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Back when Minoru first started out with Vocaloid, when he was still doing covers of Naruto openings with a homemade UTAUoid, [1] he'd been on a beginner’s forum run by another fan. And then the forum owner had run out of money to keep up the site and they’d had to move to another site, which promptly imploded due to a particularly nasty Crypton vs. 1st [2] argument, and in the end, the few survivors of that forum who hadn’t quit the community had ended up making a LINE chat[3]
It was a bit of a motley group. A few of them had given up actually creating and were just dedicated fans. One of them had shifted from producing to animating PVs; another was mostly an utaite4 now. Still, the majority were producers, of varying skill levels. And the one thing they had in common was that all of them had been in the Vocaloid community since back when “Melt” was a new and surprising thing.
All of them had been in the Vocaloid community long enough to put down roots. Long enough to have some grudges, too--there were some things he couldn’t bring up when both Makoto and ♡MikuGirl♡ were in the chat, but either way, all that history meant that someone had to know someone who could help.
The thing was, Minoru was, by all accounts, a pretty successful producer. Like, he wasn’t Deco*27, but he made the NicoNico Rankings5 on the regular. His music sold well enough that he could buy a new voicebank without really worrying much about it. And he was grateful, he really was, but he was thinking of retiring.
He wasn’t one of the people who’d come to Vocaloid because he’d loved how they sounded. He’d just wanted to make music without having to sing it himself or find someone to sing it for him. But he wasn’t actually that good at tuning, even after a solid decade of practice. He still traded other producers help with lyrics or composition in exchange for their help with smoothing out the edges of his songs before he uploaded. And he knew it wasn’t sustainable. As he got more popular, people would notice more, and mind more.
Minoru’s talent was always composing. Maybe his technical skills weren’t great but he wrote great songs, and then the utaites and the cover musicians went and had a ball with them.
So, he was finally at the point where he wanted to cut out the middleman, and just get a utaite and cover musicians of his own. Or, in layman’s terms, he wanted to start a band.
And the LINE chat was the perfect place to find out if anyone else in the Vocaloid community might be interested in forming up with him. Sure, Minoru was popular as a producer, and he could’ve probably used that to get some small-time professionals to join up with him, if he’d had any social skills. But he didn’t, and he didn’t have any connections in Tokyo’s entertainment industry, either.
Or, so he’d thought.
A few minutes after he’d asked the question in LINE, Soda, of all people, had interrupted the stream of “We’ll miss you!” messages to ask him if he would mind working with a former idol singer.
Soda was...well, honestly, Soda was just kind of sad. He was a brilliant composer, and pretty good at tuning when he was actually productive, but he hadn’t made anything in years. He’d just...lurked, mentioning occasionally that he’d worked on lyrics. Mostly, he complained about other producers but never actually produced anything himself, all while proudly proclaiming himself to be a NEET. Reading his messages gave Minoru a special kind of secondhand embarrassment. It was... really obvious that Soda had some personal issues to work through, but no one was quite brave enough to tell him that and they all felt terrible about it. Or at least Minoru did and he imagined the others did too; none of them had actually been low enough to talk about the guy behind his back.
Anyhow, Soda, who hadn’t even published a full song in the time Minoru had known him, was not exactly the kind of person Minoru expected to have industry connections. But he hadn’t wanted to accuse the guy of lying. So he heard Soda out, instead.
I know an idol singer who wants to change careers, Soda’s messages said. She was pretty young when she signed and they trapped her into a bad contract. She still enjoys singing, though. Also, her career ruined her grades so it would be hard for her to get into a good college and change careers now. But if she joined a band with you I think it would be okay.
Minoru had asked for contact information, of course. Unsurprisingly, Soda hadn’t wanted to put it in the open group. In the end, Minoru suggested that Soda give the idol Minoru’s information instead.
Soda had agreed, and Minoru had pretty much expected that to be the end of that.
There was no way he was telling the truth.
Two weeks later, Minoru woke up at 7 a.m. on a Saturday to his phone buzzing. He opened his LINE app to find...a little cartoon moon with a smiley face on it, then three peach emoji,6 followed by a picture of Kisaragi Momo.
It wasn’t the weirdest set of decontextualized pictures he’d ever been sent, but it was up there.
A set of dots appeared on the screen, animated, bouncing, announcing that whoever was on the other end was typing.
Who... was on the other end? The chat had been started by a person whose LINE name was ✧・ﾟ: *✧MOMO, who Minoru did not remember adding, and was titled “Hello Tokei-P-san!”
So this was, in some way, about Vocaloid. He didn’t understand why anyone he knew through Vocaloid was awake at this ungodly hour--even the foreign producers he knew were usually pretty good about respecting his sleep schedule--but clearly there were things he just wasn’t meant to understand.
The ellipsis resolved itself into a question: Can you talk?
Who is this? Minoru replied.
I sent you a picture, didn’t I? ✧・ﾟ: *✧MOMO sent.
Minoru was about to send a brusque reply. Then, he made a few connections--between that LINE name, the picture, and his weird conversation with Soda a few weeks back.
I can talk, Minoru sent, before he lost his nerve.
The phone rang, and Minoru answered halfway on autopilot.
“I can’t talk long, I’m hiding in a utility closet so my manager doesn’t hear,” said the voice from the Clearasil commercials.7
Minoru was in shock for a few seconds and then what she’d said registered. “Wait...are you okay?”
“Oh, no, I’m not in trouble, it’s just...if he knows I’m trying to leave, he could fire me,” Momo said.
“But you want to leave,” Minoru said.
“Yes, to another job,” Momo said. “You’re a successful producer, right? So you’ll be able to pay me, too.”
Caught flat-footed, Minoru stammered, “Yes, of course, I mean, if you’re doing part of the work you’ll get part of the profits; we’ll have to make a contract but--”
“Good,” Momo said. “That’s important. This is my job, Tokei- P-san. It’s not that I don’t love singing, but modern life is expensive!”
“But...you’d do it?” Minoru asked. “You’d join my band?”
“I’d want a contract,” Momo said. “A good, solid one, that I’m allowed to look over as much as I want. And I won’t come until you’re sure you have a job for me. Also...could I maybe dress how I want?”
“I’m not even sure we’re going to do live videos,” Minoru said. “I’ve never shown my face before. And for recording, you can wear whatever you want.”
“You should do at least one live video,” Momo said. “I sound better when people can see me.” She paused, then said. “I think I hear my manager. Call me once you’ve found a band.”
Next time you give Kisaragi FJ%&ING Momo my contact information, warn me first, Minoru messaged Soda.
I can’t, Soda replied immediately. I already gave it to her, she has it now, I can’t do it again. Also, why are you messaging me so early in the morning?
Somehow, Minoru had forgotten how much of a jerk Soda was. BECAUSE SHE JUST TEXTED ME OUT OF THE BLUE AND THEN CALLED ME, Minoru replied.
Oh, good.
That’s all you have to say?? Minoru demanded.
You’re such an ass, Minoru replied.
Please don’t curse this much around her, she’s still a kid, Soda replied.
I’m only cursing because I’m freaking out! When you said you knew an idol I thought you meant--I don’t know what I thought you meant but definitely not Kisaragi Momo!
Are you planning to work with her?
Minoru paused. Was he? He wanted to, but it was a lot of pressure, and there was the risk of Kisaragi eclipsing him as the band’s main draw if his work wasn’t up to par. After a moment, he replied. I’m pretty sure I want to. She wants me to get a band before she commits to anything, though.
Better get on it then.
Thank you, oh Great Sage, for your wisdom, Minoru replied.
Soda sent him an emoji of a hand with the middle finger raised and then went offline.
Finding a band took time. He found the pianist through his mother, who mentioned that one of the medical students working in her department was a trained pianist and was looking for a second job. As for the guitarist and bassist, he just got lucky--they were on their way out of a recording studio while he was there checking how much it cost to rent a room, and when he mentioned that he was putting together a band, they gave him their contact information. As for the drummer, the lawyer he was working with to draw up contracts for Momo and the rest was the one who suggested that Minoru reach out to a member of a recently-disbanded rock group.To Minoru’s surprise, the man accepted his offer.
Finally, with a contract prepared and a band ready, Minoru felt prepared to message Kisaragi again.
He typed and retyped the message a dozen times before settling on, I have a band and contracts drawn up, if you’re still interested?
Minoru spent 3 hours trying to pretend he wasn’t constantly checking his phone before she replied, YES!!!
She then sent a string of emoji and LINE stickers that Minoru frankly did not understand, but most of it was just endless variations of music notes, microphones, and stars, so he was pretty sure it was just meant to convey excitement.
He replied with a time and place for the meeting and got a thumbs-up emoji in return.
Minoru was really beginning to wonder how Kisaragi and Soda knew each other.
Kisaragi hit their recording session with all the force of a tropical storm, immediately running up to the guitarist and screeching, “Ohmigosh, we match,” while grabbing ahold of his arm.
Minoru had only told the rest of the band that he’d recruited an idol singer, not which one, since Kisaragi had not formally quit yet and he didn’t really know his new musicians well enough to trust them with sensitive information.
Only now was he considering that perhaps a little warning would have been polite.
“Uh, how do we match, exactly?” Tohru, the poor guitarist, asked. He was trying to extricate himself from Kisaragi’s hold without being obvious about it, and it was not working.
“I think she means your hair,” the bassist, Hiromitsu, managed, while poorly hiding his amusement.
Minoru noted that he was correct—both Kisaragi and Tohru had dyed their hair blond, although Tohru’s was paler and Kisaragi’s was done in such a way that some parts remained black.
Kisaragi nodded enthusiastically. “ And you’re much prettier than me! Ah, this is such a relief! You can be the popular bishounen guitarist, and everyone can just ignore me!”
Now, Tohru pulled away from her with more force. “What?”
A bit more tactfully, Hiromitsu asked, “Don’t you like being popular?”
“You’ve never been chased down by fans while you were just trying to buy groceries, huh?” Kisaragi asked.
“Chased? Seriously?” Tohru asked.
Katsumi, the drummer, glanced up from setting up his drums. “That’s gotta suck, especially at your age. We were lucky enough not to hit it big until a little later.”
“We?” Narumi, the keyboard player, asked, speaking up for the first time.
“My old band,” Katsumi said. “It, uh, ended badly. I’d rather not talk about it.”
Tohru looked like he was ready to ask a question anyway. Kisaragi—no, Momo, if he was going to work with her, he was going to have to get used to using her idol name—physically put a hand over his mouth even as Hiromitsu gave him a sharp look.
The situation was devolving. Sighing, Minoru clapped his hands to get everyone else’s attention, then said, “Okay, why don’t we all introduce ourselves? I’ll start, I’m Yakushi Minoru, also known as Tokei-P, and I’m a Vocaloid producer. I’ll be composing and writing songs for this band.”
Katsumi stood. “Yamada Katsumi.8 I play drums.”
“Weren’t you a member of Lex before—” Tohru started.
Hiromitsu cut him off. “I’m Hiromitsu;9 I have my own reasons for leaving my family name out of this. I’ll be playing bass. This is Amuro Tohru,10 or at least that’s his stage name. He plays guitar and has a hobby of getting under other peoples’ skin. Please don’t mind him.”
“Sorry, but I can’t promise that,” Katsumi said.
“Understandable,” Hiromitsu replied.
“If you guys want to fight, I don’t mind, just keep it offstage and out of sight of reporters,” Minoru said.
Amuro nodded seriously, then sneered at Katsumi.
Narumi took a deep breath. “I’m Asai Narumi.11 I’m a pianist, but I can play keyboard as well.” She gave Amuro and Katsumi a firm look. “I’m also a medical student, so I’ll ask you not to injure one another.”
“And I’m Kisaragi Momo,” Momo said. “I’m an idol singer, so I’m planning to do my best as your vocalist.” She bowed. “Please regard me kindly.”
“How come you’re quitting the idol singer gig?” Tohru asked.
“I’d like a job I can’t graduate out of,” Momo said. “So today, I’d like to practice with you all, to make sure that we are all a good fit for one another. Is that okay?”
She got a series of cautious nods of agreement in reply.
Minoru retrieved the sheet music he’d brought along in anticipation of something like this happening.
“I brought a few of my songs, but also some other, more popular songs that everyone should know so the band can just practice working together,” he said.
Momo lit up. “You’re very prepared. I like that in a boss.”
“Enough to sign on with me?” Minoru prodded.
“Let’s see how practice goes,” Momo said.
It was by no means the best band practice that Minoru had attended, which was not a great sign, since his main bases for comparison were high school concert band and sitting in on his cousin’s brief and ill-fated attempt at a metal band. Still, he could see promise. There were issues to work out, but they were solvable ones, things like Narumi’s difficulty with adapting to her bandmate’s paces and Tohru’s occasional fumbles on particularly complex chords. Momo’s magnetic stage presence covered for a lot, even the issues in her own vocal performance. Minoru could absolutely work with this.
As the musicians packed up their instruments, Minoru pulled them aside, one by one, starting with Momo.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“Let me and my people look over that contract,” Momo said.
Minoru smiled, and handed it over.
IDOL KISARAGI MOMO: GET, Minoru sent to Soda
She hasn’t signed the contract yet, idiot, Soda replied.
Why are you like this? Minoru replied absently.
You do not fckin want to know, Soda snapped, and went offline abruptly.
This was weird. This was so weird. Minoru couldn’t believe he was about to message a celebrity about some depressed weirdo he barely knew from the internet.
Hey, uh, Kisaragi-san, can I ask you a favor?
The reply was instant this time. Pls call me Momo. What is it?
Minoru was still working on thinking of her as Momo, so, uh, he’d table that for now. He retyped the next message a few times before finally sending it. You know Soda-san, right? I think I might have gotten him angry.
Ohmigosh of course his nickname would be Soda XD, Momo replied immediately, followed by, He probably isn’t angry at you. He just hasn’t slept well in, idk, weeks? It’s making him grouchy.
She emphasized her point with a frowny-face emoji.
Well now, Minoru was concerned. Or more concerned. Every worried thought he’d ever had about Soda was suddenly coming back, full-force. Uh, I don’t wanna go behind his back or anything, but is he ok?
He watched the bouncing ellipsis that signaled that Momo was typing disappear, reappear, and disappear again. Finally, the reply came.
Honestly, no, but we’re making sure he gets help, I promise, she said. He’s gonna be ok. I’ll make sure of it!
It was like a burden was being lifted off of him. Soda almost never mentioned anyone else in his life, and sometimes…well, sometimes he just posted links to a dozen depressing songs in a row with no context and then went inactive for a month and…maybe Minoru had been more worried than he’d let himself admit.
Thank you.
Thank you for being concerned about him, Momo replied. I’ll let him know you want to apologize.
Thanks, Minoru replied, and added an emoji of a person bowing for good measure.
You DO know how to use emoji!!! Momo messaged immediately and flooded the chat with images.
Two days later, Minoru woke up to find that Soda had messaged him around 1 am.
Momo showed me your message, he’d said. Didn’t mean to blow up on you or make you worry about me or whatever. You don’t need to apologize.
Still, sorry, he replied.
I should be apologizing for letting Momo’s emoji addiction get to this point, Soda replied. Apparently, he was not interested in having a serious conversation right now.
I don’t mind that much, as long as she still uses words sometimes, Minoru replied, deciding to go along with it.
For us she does. I have another friend that she only texts in emoji, LINE stickers, and gifs, Soda said. He understands it, too. They’re scary.
She’s a lot more intimidating in person, and not in the way I expected, Minoru said.
Really? Soda asked.
She’s not like, famous-person-intimidating—or, well, I guess she is a little, but she doesn’t act like I expected a famous person to act, Minoru replied. But she does act like she has expectations of everyone and they’d better live up to them or else.
That’s accurate.
Do I want to know what happens if I don’t live up to her expectations?
Minor expectations, you’ll be fine, Soda said. She’s been disappointed before, she’ll just punish you passive-aggressively til she feels justice has been done. You ever disappoint her on a large scale, though? You should probably watch your back.
Minoru blinked at the phone. Is that, like, a threat?
No, I’m warning you about what she’s like. Don’t actually piss her off for real and you’re golden. If I wanted to threaten you I’d have to be confident that I’m a bigger threat than her, and I definitely am not.
Minoru felt so reassured.
The signed copy of Momo’s contract that arrived in Minoru’s mailbox did not really help with the feeling of being threatened, since Minoru had never given her his home address.
The band was an adjustment for everyone. Minoru had never worked with so many people before. Hiromitsu and Tohru were clearly used to working with one another, and no one else, and had formed a miniature clique. Katsumi kept falling into patterns he must have established with his former bandmates, and on one memorable occasion, called Momo “Tatsuya,” paled drastically, then excused himself from practice for twenty minutes. For Narumi, practice was often after a shift at the hospital, and she kept either spending entire practices with a frozen smile on her face or nearly falling asleep at the keyboard. Momo, meanwhile, was far clumsier than any of her interviews or behind-the-scenes segments had revealed, and actually managed to break a mic stand during one practice. Also, she refused to silence her phone completely during practice.
“I’m sorry, but it’s in case of emergency,” she said firmly.
“What’s going to happen in three hours?” Tohru asked.
Momo opened her mouth, shut it, then glared bloody murder at him.
Momo’s experience as an idol had at least given her an admirable work ethic. Actually, more like a terrifying one. Even a month into membership in the band, she was still slightly confused by the idea of taking breaks during a practice because people were tired and unhappy rather than because they were too physically exhausted to continue.
On top of her work with the band, she was still attending school, and maintaining personal channels on both NicoNico and Youtube. Minoru had absolutely no idea how she did it and said as much near the end of one of their practices.
“It’s not like I have a choice,” Momo said briskly, pulling on her jacket in preparation to go outside.
“I don’t understand,” Narumi said.
“None of that was in your contract,” Minoru said.
“No, but Youtube gives me ad revenue and NicoNico maintains my fanbase, and I need school so I can get a good job in the future,” Momo said. She glanced from face to face, taking in the confusion. “Didn’t I ever explain it to you guys? I’m the person who earns most of the money for my household.”
Katsumi dropped one of his cymbals, and the sound seemed to echo in the sudden quiet.
Momo held up three fingers, counting them off one by one. “So, my dad died when I was a kid, and then Mom got sick a few years ago, so she’s in the hospital pretty much permanently now. I have an older brother, but, uh, he’s a… higikomori ?”
“Do you mean hikikomori ?”12 Narumi suggested.
“Yeahhh that,” Momo said. “There was—uh—some stuff happened, when he was in high school, and he got pretty depressed and dropped out and then just…never came out of his room, really. So sometimes he would, like, kinda remember that the electricity doesn’t pay for itself and go item-farm on some MMO so he could chip in, but mostly, what’s left of Mom’s benefits and my salary is paying for everything.”
“That’s screwed up,” Tohru said.
“Yeah, but it’s how things are,” Momo said. “Mom didn’t get sick on purpose, and neither did my brother. Besides, things are a lot better now than they were. I have some friends who are kind of in the same boat, and we’ve been putting together a shared disaster fund in case something goes wrong for any of us. We’ve even been talking about moving in together to cut costs. Well, and, because it would be nice.”
“Is there enough room for all of you wherever you’re planning to move in, or is this one of those eight people in one apartment situations?” Hiromitsu asked.
“It’s a real full-sized house,” Momo said. “Technically there’s two houses, but one’s out in the woods and getting new furniture into it is gonna be a pain, so we’re mostly thinking about the one that’s in town.”
“How do a bunch of kids with limited resources end up with two houses?” Tohru asked.
“Their parents die,” Momo said flatly.
“You asked,” Hiromitsu said.
“I did,” Tohru conceded. After a few beats of silence, he added, “My parents died and I just ended up in a crap orphanage.”
“Technically, that’s also true for some of my friends, but then their adoptive parents also died,” Momo said.
“Okay, I for one am done envying them,” Hiromitsu said.
“You know what, me too,” Tohru agreed. “Yikes.”
“Listen, Momo-san, if you ever get into a real bad financial bind, let me know,” Katsumi said urgently. “I’m not a millionaire, but Lex was pretty big and we made enough money that helping you out if you need it isn’t gonna hurt me one bit.”
“Thanks, Katsumi-san, ” Momo said.
Minoru took a deep breath, then added, “Also let me know if you need a little bit of advance on some of the money you’ve earned. Obviously, I can’t do it all the time, but if you need a little extra money on a specific date so you can pay a bill, I’m sure we can work something out.”
Momo beamed at him. “That would be really helpful.”
“Good,” he said. “We don’t have to be friends to be a good band, but I’d like it if we could get along. That includes communicating with each other when we need help, especially if it’s something the rest of us can help with. I guess I’m saying this to all of you now-- please let me know if there’s something specific I can do to make working with the band easier.”
That incident with Momo was a breakthrough. A few days later, Katsumi sought him out after practice and gave him an abbreviated summary of why, exactly, Lex had broken up. The story bordered on sordid—their manager had murdered the lead singer, Katsumi’s best friend, over a long-running misunderstanding even though he was still in love with her—but it contextualized a lot of Katsumi’s odd behavior. The next to come to him were Tohru and Hiromitsu, who quietly explained that they had another job that they couldn’t talk about much, but that might occasionally interfere with their ability to attend practice and tour. Narumi never actually talked to Minoru, but he ended up having to pretend that she didn’t hear her sobbing in the studio’s women’s bathroom while Momo comforted her. She was a lot calmer and more collected during the next practice, and a few weeks later, when he emailed her a prospective recording time, she replied with, That conflicts with my therapist appointment :(.
And then, when her final exams came around, she finally made a direct request.
“Do you think maybe next week you could let Momo and I use the practice room to study while you work on lyrics?” she asked.
“I definitely wouldn’t mind, but that leaves Katsumi, Hiromitsu, and Tohru without much of anything to do,” Minoru replied.
“Actually, would you mind if Tohru and I helped with lyrics, or at least watched?” Hiromitsu asked. “I think we’ve both been wanting to learn more about that end of the music industry.”
“Sure,” Minoru said. “Katsumi-san?"
"“Actually, Narumi-san, would you mind if I studied with you?” Katsumi asked. “I’ve been trying to get a first aid certification.”
Narumi lit up. “Oh, of course! We can quiz each other!”
Momo was frowning thoughtfully.
“Isn’t the studio a good enough study environment?” Tohru asked.
“Well, it’ll be quieter than home for certain, but it would be nice if my tutor could come,” Momo said.
“It’s not like we’re going to turn him away,” Minoru said.
“It’s not that,” Momo said. “I don’t think he can get in here.”
“Huh?” Katsumi asked.
“He uses a wheelchair, and I don’t think there’s a ramp that goes up to the front door,” Momo explained.
“He could probably use the back entrance,” Katsumi said. “It’s the one I use when I bring my drums in on a dolly.”
“Oh!” Momo exclaimed. “That should work!”
Sure enough, while Tohru and Hiromitsu arrived to their next meeting at the studio with blank sheet music and Katsumi showed up with a packet labeled “FIRST AID CERTIFICATION STUDY GUIDE,” Momo arrived with a stuffed backpack, pushing a young man with pale brown hair in a wheelchair.
“Hi, Momo’s band!” The man said cheerily.
“Everyone, this is Haruka,” Momo said. “He’s a genius with absolutely no common sense. If you leave unattended food near him, he will eat it.”
“Momo!” Haruka groaned.
“It’s true!” Momo said cheerily.
“Haruka, these are Minoru, Tohru, Hiromitsu, Katsumi, and Narumi,” Momo said, pointing out each bandmate in turn. “Minoru is the one Shintarou knows from the Internet, Hiromitsu is Tohru’s self-control, Katsumi is the one with the most experience in the music industry so he’s like the dad, and Narumi is going to be a doctor someday, but, like, the good kind.”
“As opposed to?” Narumi asked, sounding curious.
“As opposed to the kind that sees Haruka for five minutes, pronounces him a medical marvel, refers him to a different specialist, and dooms themselves to being pranked by our friends for at least a month,” Momo explained.
“Ah,” Narumi said.
“I’ve got a heart condition,” Haruka explained. “I’ve seen a lot of doctors.”
“And there’s also something wrong with your—” Tohru started.
Hiromitsu elbowed Tohru in the side so hard that the pain registered on his face.
“Just like Kano and Kido,” Haruka said, almost reverently. He looked at Tohru for a second, then added. “There’s nothing wrong with my legs, it’s just that I might have a heart attack if I walk too much. It would be kinda funny to watch you panic over that, but also I might die, so I don’t really think it’s worth it.”
“Are all your friends as weird as you?” Tohru asked Momo.
“Most of them are weirder, if you can believe it,” Momo said.
“I really cannot,” Tohru said.
“I can, but I don’t want to think about it,” Hiromitsu said.
“I’ve always thought you were the smarter one,” Momo said. “Hey, Haruka-san, let’s get to work!”
Minoru got out his lyric notebook, listening absently to Momo confidently giving incorrect answers to every question Haruka posed. It really was hard to imagine Momo’s friends being much weirder.
Then again, Soda existed.
Although, come to think, Momo had identified him to Haruka as the one that someone named “Shintarou” knew from the internet. That almost had to be Soda. So, Haruka knew Soda as well?
At the beginning of practice, he was curious enough about the whole thing to plan to sidetrack Haruka before he left and try to ask him about it. Several hours of dealing with Tohru and Hiromitsu’s two-man comedy act while simultaneously trying to actually write lyrics and maybe even teach them something too made him forget completely and prioritize the idea of going home and getting some sleep.
Nothing really came of Minoru’s possible discovery of Soda’s real name until several weeks later, when his phone, rather than Momo’s, was the one to go off in the middle of a recording session.
He swore a blue streak and dove for his bag, fumbling to unlock his phone and hang up on whoever was calling, but his thumb went the wrong way and he answered the call instead. Normally this would not have been a problem, except that the person on the other side of the phone immediately started yelling, loud enough that the rest of the band could definitely hear.
“PLEASE TELL ME YOU KNOW WHERE MOMO IS!”
The voice was male, completely unfamiliar, and slightly desperate. They didn’t sound like a stalker. That said, he’d barely had time to process the fact that somebody was screaming for his vocalist over his phone when Momo grabbed it out of his hand.
“I’m here; I’m fine,” she said. “Calm down, brother.”
“Oh thank god,” the caller replied, voice now at a normal volume.
“I left my phone at home,” Momo said. “I was hoping—”
“I was doing fine, but Haruka fell asleep with the news on and there was some sort of special report on gun violence and I just-- I had to know where everybody was,” the caller said, sounding exhausted.
Momo just nodded and closed her eyes for a second. “Do you need me to come home?”
“No, I’m—I’m good,” the caller said. “Just…stay safe, ok?”
“I will.”
“You owe Minoru-san an explanation, now.”
“Who the heck’s Minoru?”
“Tokei-P-san.”
“Oh, yeah, right, probably.”
“You know what I’m gonna tell you next?”
“Breathing exercises?”
“Breathing exercises.”
“Good man.”
“Thanks for putting up with…all this.”
“You’re my brother, what else would I do?”
“Right. I, uh…”
“You love me but you’re too emotionally constipated to say it?”
“Yes, that.”
“I also love you. Bye!”
Momo hung up the phone and handed it back to Minoru, who tried in vain to pretend he hadn’t been listening in.
“Uh, yeah,” Momo said awkwardly. “So, remember how I said my older brother had some issues?”
“No, you said your older brother was a hikikomori,” Tohru clarified.
“Well, uh, it’s more like he’s a hikikomori but also he’s got some, uh, psychological stuff he’s working through,” Momo said.
“You wanna add any more qualifiers to that sentence?” Tohru asked.
“Look, around the end of last summer, some really bad stuff went down, and Shintarou hasn’t really bounced back that well,” Momo said. “He’s trying. He leaves the house now. But trauma doesn’t just go away because you don’t want to have it.”
“She’s got a point there,” Hiromitsu said.
Katsumi was looking at Momo with an expression of deep empathy.
“How’d he get my phone number?” Minoru asked.
“That was probably Ene, er, Enomoto-chan,” Momo said. “She’s one of my brother’s friends. She’s really, really good with computers.”
“Ok,” Minoru said. “You know, you could’ve asked.”
“Huh?”
“For my phone number, if you thought your brother might want it,” he clarified. “I don’t mind him having it, but you keep getting my personal information without asking me and it’s, uh, kinda unsettling.”
“Ohhh,” Momo said. “Yeah, okay, we probably could’ve handled the contract thing better too, huh?”
Minoru nodded.
“Right, we’ll ask next time,” Momo said. “And, uh, my brother will call and apologize later.”
Minoru tried not to gulp.
Minoru got a LINE message from Soda the next day, around lunchtime.
So, uh, sorry about calling your cell phone in the middle of rehearsal and screaming at you because the news made me panic and decide that if I didn’t know exactly where my sister was then she must be dead. You see, if I write it down like that it looks really dumb, but yesterday, it seemed really logical.
Minoru stared at the message for a few seconds, and then a few more seconds, but it didn’t change.
He tried to process the idea that his jerky, unproductive Vocaloid forum friend with occasional worrying tendencies and Momo’s traumatized hikikomori brother were the same person. He could almost manage it. The way the voice on the phone talked wasn’t completely unlike Soda. But, seriously?
Dude, I am not going to blame you for having a freakout. According to Momo, you have reasons. But when the HECK were you going to tell me that you’re her BROTHER ?!?
IDK, maybe never, depended on if you were a jerk irl, Soda answered, showing his typical level of tact.
Thanks for the vote of confidence, Minoru replied.
Look, I have some trust issues, ok, Soda said. That’s all I’m gonna say about that.
Okay, right, the trauma. You never told anyone in the LINE chat that you were a hikiNEET, he said.
I told the other hikiNEETs, Soda replied.
??? Minoru sent.
There’s a couple of us; I’m not telling you about the others, Soda sent. Amazingly, people who withdrew from society bcuz of the pressure don’t want more pressure bcuz they withdrew.
Momo said you dropped out because something happened, Minoru sent.
Before he finished his followup message, Soda replied, I left school because one of my friends attempted suicide and then the other two went missing. On the same day.
Holy sh1t, Minoru sent.
But the others in our LINE became hikikomori because of social and academic pressure, Soda continued, undaunted. Don’t worry, my friends were found—actually, you even met Haruka, didn’t you? The person who attempted suicide is ok now, too.
Ok like physically or… Minoru asked.
She’s alive, Soda replied. We can figure out the rest.
Is all of that why you stopped really trying to compose? Minoru asked, after a few seconds.
I think it’s part of it, Soda wrote back. I think I was also just having trouble believing in myself and in my own ideas. I’m trying to move past that now. The song I started all that time ago is almost ready to post.
I’ll look forward to it, Minoru replied.
For the record, my real name is Kisaragi Shintarou, Soda sent. You can call me now, or text, since you have my phone number anyway.
Yakushi Minoru, but you should already know that from Momo, Minoru replied. Nice to meet you.