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"What are you doing up so early?" As she spoke, Kaede stepped out onto the balcony, closing the sliding door behind her with a soft click. It was mostly protected from the rain, but the damp, fresh scent of it was thick in the morning air. Her girlfriend was sitting on the floor, despite having a chair right behind her. It sent a sympathetic shiver running down Kaede's spine, thinking of how chilly she must be getting. How long had Tsumugi been out here anyway?
"I couldn't sleep," she replied simply, turning her head to glance back at Kaede. "I was hoping inspiration might strike out here. Watching the sunrise and stuff, you know? It sets a mood. If I don't start making outlines for the season now, I'm going to be in big trouble after auditions start. I can't disappoint the team." Her voice was distant, dreamy. As if she wasn't even absorbing the early morning sights she'd apparently been so eager to see. She always got this way about Danganronpa.
Kaede watched it too, sure, but the fanaticism of those truly obsessed with it still freaked her out a little. She pushed those emotions aside for Tsumugi's sake. It wasn't like one person's thoughts could change the world, the culture that made all of this possible. Hell, she was planning on auditioning herself in a few months, just to see if she could get in. The rewards for survivors were good, and if anyone was going to sculpt a new identity for her, she'd want it to be her girlfriend. So she wasn't innocent in this whole thing either. It wasn't her place to judge.
"Well, how's it coming?" Voice scratchy with sleep, she sat down beside her, cold instantly seeping through her thin pajama pants and into her skin. Spring had come, but warm weather wasn't quite there to stay yet, especially at this time of day. "Any ideas so far?"
"I'm not sure. Kind of, but..." Tsumugi trailed off, heaving a sigh. "It's just so hard following in the footsteps of all the amazing writers from before. Critics are so eager to claim that Danganronpa's already told all the stories it can, and if I create a lackluster season, that'll only make them more convinced they're right. An entire cultural legacy is riding on my shoulders!" A discreet glance over at the notebook in her lap revealed an almost completely blank page.
"They'll criticize you no matter what," Kaede said, not bothering to soften her thoughts before saying them out loud. "They're critics. That's what they do. You're putting way too much pressure on yourself. Even if you come up with something you think is awful, there's no way it could be as bad as, say, season 43. Singlehandedly ruining Danganronpa is impossible."
Her efforts were rewarded with a wobbly smile. Tsumugi removed her glasses for a moment to wipe away a few tears, something Kaede pretended not to see. She still wasn't all that great at dealing with emotions. If she ended up one of the lucky sixteen, she thought it might be nice to be someone better at that. Someone who could comfort her friends and know just what to say when someone had a problem. She'd have a tough time admitting that desire out loud though. It sounded disgustingly sappy.
"Thanks, Kaede." A familiar arm curled around her, drawing her out of her thoughts and back to reality. The gentle rain was starting to taper off, sun still relatively low in the sky. The streets below were still quiet, not yet filled with rush hour traffic. She wasn't much of a writer herself, but she could understand why her girlfriend would think this environment could help.
"Yeah, no problem. Look, just...You've got time, y'know? It'll come together eventually. Just like all your other projects." She leaned her chin against Tsumugi's shoulder for a moment, pressing a kiss to her jaw. This close, she could smell the light, floral scent of her shampoo, blue hair tickling her cheek. "C'mon, let's go back inside. You must be freezing by now. Maybe you'll be able to get a little more sleep too."
It wasn't until she was opening the door to step back inside that she spotted the pale rainbow beginning to form in the sky. It was beautiful, the soft colors of sunrise not yet completely faded behind it. Gently, she nudged Tsumugi, nodding towards the horizon to draw her attention to it.
"Maybe it's a sign of good luck. What do you think?"
Stupid as that sentiment sounded to her own ears, the joy lighting up Tsumugi's face was more than worth it.