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Even though they’re all in high spirits, outright rejection like that takes its toll on everyone. The next few days, practise is quieter than usual, and Lisa finds even she can’t fill the gaps like she normally can. There’s pregnant pauses in between songs and practise, and probably, there’s only one thing going through everyone’s mind.
Was it me? Was I the weak link?
Well – Lisa can only laugh, because it’s definitely her. The rest of them – they’re all prodigies on another level. Ako is so young, and yet her only real struggle in playing is her getting excited – Rinko is an award-winning protagonist, Sayo practises so much that Lisa’s sure that she can never, ever catch and up, and Yukina –
Yukina still sits on a pedestal high above the clouds. Really, it’s a miracle Lisa’s even allowed to be here. She’s no star, not like them. She’s just…the peacemaker. The one who greases the wheels and make sure practise keeps chugging steadily along. Hmm, how would Ako put it…? They put all their stat points into Music, and didn’t leave any for…? Okay, that’s a little mean. Still, it’s nice to have her place.
“Imai-san,” Sayo calls out to her one day, after practise. It’s only been a couple of days since – well. That. They’d agreed not to talk about it, but each of them was quietly ruminating on it anyway.
“Mm, Sayo?” Lisa says, casting her eyes over to where Yukina is. She’s on the other side of the room, putting away the microphone. “What’s up?”
“It wasn’t you,” Sayo says, and her eyebrows are furrowed like it’s hard to say this, but she looks Lisa in the face, and repeats, “it wasn’t you.”
“Huh?”
“The reason why we didn’t make the cut,” Sayo’s words slice through the air between them, and Lisa knows this hurts her. “It wasn’t you. I just – wanted you to know that.”
She stalks off after that, leaving Yukina staring at them in confusion, but shrugging it off. Lisa wonders what brought this on – but, hey hasn’t Sayo been doing better recently? Halfway to becoming someone a lot less stiff. Maybe this is her attempt at kindness. It makes Lisa feel that weird kind of gooey inside, like when Yukina compliments her, or when Rinko stares at her feet and smiles – aw.
“Ready to go?” Yukina says, and her voice is totally level. If it were anyone else, Lisa would assume they really were fine, but it’s the tell-tale way she chews at her lip, how she speaks just a little quicker, a little breathier than normal, that let Lisa know she’s thinking about it. They all are. It’s only been a few days, and – they were supposed to win. The audience thought they were supposed to win. They were great.
“Yeah,” Lisa says, nudging Yukina’s shoulder and leading them out of the studio. “Let’s go~”
Just not good enough, apparently.
She makes sure to avoid the topic on the way home – Yukina needs a certain amount of time to marinate on disappointment before she’s ready to process things, and pushing her before then usually just upsets her. It takes a bit of patience, but Lisa knows how to fill the spaces until Yukina’s ready to be a person again and not a sulking child.
(She’s still so cute, even when she’s sulking…)
They talk about meaningless things, like the weather, Lisa’s dance club, Yukina’s latest failed Math grade, and they stop so Yukina can coo at a little grey cat perched on a wall, staring at them. It’s one of those sort-of rare moment where she breaks out of her shell, and Lisa gets to see that soft, soft side to her that only comes out when she’s at her happiest, or when a cat’s involved.
“Mrrow,” Yukina talks back to the cat, mimicking the meows it makes, and gosh, Lisa could just look at her forever. There’s just something about her, like the way she balls her fists and bats the air like they’re little cat paws, or the way she puts so much focus into perfectly mimicking the tone of the cat on the wall. It leaps down, eventually, and rubs itself against her legs, and if Yukina were anyone else, she would have screamed into delight.
Yukina is Yukina, though, and so she just muffles a grin under her hand and looks at Lisa, like – look! It’s rubbing against me! Lisa!!!!! Lisa!!!!!!!!
At least, that’s what she used to say when they were little, and they’re not so little anymore so Yukina just keeps quiet, but her eyes say it all the same.
It’s a tearful goodbye as they have to leave the cat behind, but it’s getting dark, and they do sort of kind of need to get home before dinner, and also so they can get some homework done –
Yukina stiffens as they get to her house, and walk inside. Lisa’s been here a thousand times before, enough to know she’s always welcome – but she always lets Yukina inside first. It’s her house, after all, and – well, she’s still a little nervous, even after all this time. She just feels better standing behind her.
“We’re back,” Yukina says, lifelessly kicking off her shoes and heading immediately for the stairs. Lisa’s makes a point of saying good evening to Yukina’s parents – she just feels rude without doing so, because it’s not even her house, and even though she’s been told a hundred times to treat the house as it was her own, she just – can’t. Yukina’s parents have been good to her, and the least she can do is be polite.
“Good evening,” Lisa says, sheepishly, and offers a polite nod to Yukina’s mum and dad. “Thank you for having me.”
Yukina’s father smiles in that sort of sad way he does whenever he sees them. Lisa wonders how much that hurts Yukina, for her dad to look like that all the time.
“It’s good to see you, Lisa,” he says, and Lisa tries to mirror it back. He’s kind. She just feels sorry for him. “Oh, Yukina.”
Yukina stops on her ascent up the stairs, and turns and looks. It’s not a ‘you’re in trouble’ sort of tone, so she tilts her questioningly. Though, Lisa doubts her parents would ever really scold her. Not after – all of that.
“Your entry into Fes should have been this week. How did you do?”
It’s the wrong question. The worst one, and – Yukina clenches up her fists something awful, and she’s going her hurt her hands, oh no, oh no –
“It seems we didn’t make it,” Yukina says, turning away and offering her dad a smile as fake as anything. Her voice wilts like a sad flower, her shoulders hunch, but she tries to smile anyway.
“Perhaps next time,” her father says, and Yukina is already turning around again. Lisa follows quickly behind her, tossing an apologetic glance at Yukina’s father.
“Hey,” Lisa says, softening her voice as soon as they get into her room, “are you okay?”
Yukina doesn’t respond; dumps her bag on the floor and pulls out her homework, sitting down on the bed with a huff and flicking through it. Lisa takes a seat beside her, concerned but not sure whether to push because – she might be fine, she’s probably fine.
“What homework do you need help?” Lisa says, trying to smooth things over in the easiest way she can, because if Yukina doesn’t want to talk about it, that’s fine – they don’t have to. They can just move past it, and, and –
Oh no, oh no no, she’s crying.
Pangs stab at Lisa’s chest as she sees Yukina’s figure crumple, and her body shakes, just a little bit, just enough, and Lisa knows it’s gotten to her, like it’s gotten to all of them but it’s worse, because it’s so much more personal for Yukina. This was her everything, her dream, and how is she meant to react when it’s been shattered into pieces?
Lisa shifts a little closer, wraps her arms around Yukina’s stomach as she convulses, sniffs something awful, and wipes away the girl’s tears with her sleeve. Yukina’s breathing is laboured, shaky as she gasps for breath and cries a little harder, so Lisa holds her just a little bit tighter.
“Sssh,” Lisa mumbles into her hair, rubbing circles on Yukina’s back with her free hand, “It’ll be okay, Yukina.”
“What did I do wrong?” Yukina croaks, and it’s not really her voice but it is, broken in places and filled with hurt and nothing like the strong, untouchable girl she is on stage but still the girl Lisa loves more than anything – “I did everything right. I made sure of it, and yet – and still – “
She doesn’t finish her sentence; sobs again and it wracks her body, so Lisa keeps up with her ssshhing and soothing circles and hopes it’s saying all she wants it to. ‘I’m here.’ ‘It’ll be okay.’ ‘I won’t let go until you’re okay.’
She hates seeing Yukina cry. She really does.
“I made sure things were perfect,” Yukina continues, stopped mid-sentence as her body convulses with another sob, sniffs again, “I felt so ready, like everything was going to go right – my voice was clear, and everyone was ready, and I had your bass behind me, and because of all that I thought we could do it for sure – so why – “
“I don’t know,” Lisa says, squeezing Yukina just a little. Her body isn’t shaking so much, the worst is over, but her voice still quavers and she’s still sniffing, her eyes are still watering. Lisa doesn’t know what else to do but hold her. Yukina doesn’t resist; if anything, she presses further into Lisa’s embrace. “I’m sorry, Yukina.”
“I don’t know what else I can do,” Yukina says, and instead of broken, it’s no longer sharp nor grating but dulled, softer, quieter – resigned, “I don’t know how to be better. I don’t understand.”
She stops, for a moment, rotates to look at Lisa’s and her eyes widen something awful, and –
“Lisa – you’re crying! What’s wrong,” with her shaky voice, but why is she worried about Lisa, Lisa’s not –
Ah. Maybe her cheeks are a little wet, she supposes, but that’s just –
“It wasn’t you,” Yukina says, almost desperately, wiping Lisa’s cheeks with her thumbs as she cups Lisa’s face in her hands, “I promise it wasn’t you. You played so well, I – I couldn’t have sung without you by my side, Lisa, I told you before, it’s your bass that gives me the confidence to sing, I – “
Lisa laughs, softly, and brings Yukina close for a real hug. Yukina mumbles noises of confusion into her hair. Yukina can be really sweet when she wants to be, huh?
“I’m not crying because of that,” Lisa says, and Yukina pauses in her fluster, makes another cute confused noise as Lisa releases her a little, smiling despite the tears, “I just…hate it when you cry. I get all worried and upset, and…. I guess I cried because you were crying.”
It’s – the truth, embarrassing as it is, but it’s honesty hour and that’s rare enough between the two of them. Maybe Lisa can be a little selfish, and be as sappy as she wants.
Yukina gives her this soft look, tilts her head, and wipes her eyes for good this time.
“You are so,” she struggles for words, “sentimental. You used to do that when we were kids.”
Lisa wipes her own eyes, puts her hand over Yukina’s on the bed and squeezes, “Yeah, ‘cause I couldn’t bear to see you cry. Still can’t.”
She leans a little further forward, rests her chin on Yukina’s shoulder, as the other girl’s arm gently come around her. A rare moment of intimacy, as the sun sets in autumn hues through the window. It’s already that late, huh?
“Don’t cry, Yukina,” Lisa mumbles, and it’s this pallid kind of honesty that she never gets to be, not when she’s dancing around feelings because Roselia is, more often than not, a ship ready to sink.
“I’m not crying,” Yukina says, and Lisa can’t see her smile but she can hear it in her voice, and that gooey feeling comes back and melts in her chest like molten caramel, like kitten’s little toe beans, like – “You are.”
Lisa laughs a little at that one, and Yukina doesn’t quite laugh but hums to herself, pleased. They’re still interlocked, with chins on each other’s shoulders, when Yukina says it, soft and quiet and meek.
“Thank you.”
“Sometimes a good cry is necessary,” Lisa says, deflecting, because gosh, any more and she’s going to melt into a puddle, “it gets all your ugly feelings out and you can think about the future a little more clearly.”
“Yukina! Lisa! Dinner’s on the table!”
“Okay!” Yukina yells back, and she’s the one to unpeel herself and stand up, eyes dry, before offering her hand to Lisa. “Ready to go?”
Lisa wipes her eyes one last time.
“Yeah. Let’s go~”