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Minori grows up reaching forward, to a ghost of a girl, the illusion of an ideal.
The first time Minori meets Haruka, it’s at a handshake event, the lines of fans winding and colour coded, overlapping and crisscrossing until they reach each idol. Minori rocked back and forth on her heels, stepping forward a centimetre a minute, excitement overwhelming. Her heart got caught in her throat when she finally stepped up to see Haruka in person, the girl she’d admired from afar for so long.
She stammers wildly as Haruka takes her hands in her own with a rehearsed smile. They’re warm.
(The worst part is that Minori knows it’s all produced, that Haruka is more than a person now. She’s a brand, a product, an ideal image to sell. She’s not sure if knowing that, if loving Haruka still, makes her wise or foolish.)
Minori stands in the audience, brushing up against others, breath out in front of her. It’s exhausting, jumping and yelling and waving and fun, incredibly so. It’s her responsibility to give her all as an audience member after all, everyone on stage is working ten times harder. It feels like traffic almost, like a free way of lights in all directions, the rush and rumble surrounding.
But when Haruka is on stage… it’s different.
Minori blames the lights for it, the feeling of water around her. Haruka stands above them all, a tumultuous sea of blue, an ocean Minori is willing to drown in if she gets to see Haruka smile like that again. She’s tossed around by the waves, by the bodies of everyone around her, but Haruka leads them all.
She’s like a spirit, something mythical in Minori’s eye, guiding the water and waves with her energy.
And a guilty feeling washes over Minori for holding Haruka to that standard.
Idols are, to everyone’s dismay, human.
It’s not like Haruka doesn’t want to give everything she has to always being an idol, it’s that she can’t.
Her management would probably love it if that wasn’t the case.
Minori is conflicted, tossed around by those waves.
There is a reason she enjoys virtual singers after all. There is a reason she holds Miku so dear to her heart.
There’s a sense of relief in them, a lack of responsibility. Miku can never be hurt. She’ll never strain herself pushing too hard, she’ll never be threatened or attacked, she’ll never die.
But Minori can’t find warmth in Miku’s hands.
When Miku performs, it’s exactly as she’s supposed to. Every motion, every smile and wave is exactly as it’s supposed to be.
Human idols are meant to live up to those same standards. They’re the standards Minori holds herself to everyday, pushes herself to fulfil without stopping.
However she can’t help but admit to herself that her favourite moment’s of Haruka are when she can see her real smile peaking through the rehearsed one, washed away by the penlights.
Haruka is real, interwoven with rehearsal.
Minori lies on her bed, watching the same recording of idol interviews, Haruka laughing on screen, discussing a new melon soda with her group members. The label of the bottle points out towards the camera conspicuously.
The same soda bottle sits on Minori’s table, only a small sip emptied from it. The bubbles have long since dissipated, the drink has gone flat.
The light fades from Minori’s room, and dark blue shadows creep along her wall as she sleeps.
And then they met.
This ghost of a girl is right in front of her. Minori reinforces her ideas, repeats them to herself under her breath. Haruka’s support as an idol has meant so much to her all this time, if she wants to quit it’s the least Minori can do to support her.
But then Haruka doesn’t really want to quit, and Minori falls into a world of truly perfect idols just as Haruka proves to her face that no real idol is a doll.
It confuses Minori, truly. Miku and Rin are here. Tangible, in front of her. Their hair combed perfectly, pinned into place, nothing out of place. They jump and sing exactly in sync, voices never wavering or strained. They don’t tire, they always practice as they’re meant to.
They’re perfect mentors, perfect ideals, perfect idols.
She holds Miku’s hand, cold in her own, as they watch Rin twirl around on stage to the delight of a faceless audience.
Minori still finds herself drawn to the flawed Haruka more than anymore.
She still feels guilty.
The out of place strands of Haruka’s hair drift away from her head, bobbing back and forth in the evening breeze. Dark, shimmering blue backlight by vibrant oranges, the sun’s farewell.
Minori sits beside her quietly, watching the light bounce off the tops of the buildings, Shibuya’s skyline glowing at the edges.
She toys with the cap on her soda.
“It’s lovely.” Haruka breathes out, not looking at Minori. Idols should always greet their fans with a smile. Right now, Minori is sitting with her friend, Haruka.
“It really is. It’s one of my favourite sights in the world.”
Haruka giggles at that.
“That makes sense. I’d tell you what mine is, but you already know.”
There are a lot of things Minori knows about Haruka that she doesn’t know in verse.
“Haruka…” Minori begins, the words resting on her tongue. They stick to the sickeningly sweet soda flavour that hasn’t fully dissolved yet. “Do you think I’m weird?”
Haruka pauses, doesn’t move.
“In what way?”
Minori drums her nails against the concrete. They chip just slightly.
“I’ve been your fan since we were kids. I’ve followed your music and career, I know all these things about you, but I don’t really know you, not yet anyway. I’d like to.”
Haruka hums lightly in response, but by now Minori’s already rambling, thoughts spilling out.
“Wh-when I first fell into Sekai, the words I said… that Miku and Rin called my true feelings… I wanted to stand on that stage, and I wanted to stand on it with you, who I didn’t even really know. And it’s selfish of me, I wanted you to be an idol again for my own selfish dream.”
Haruka takes a breath in.
“All dreams are a little bit selfish, by design. Great desires, wishes and thoughts. Regardless of the reason, Minori, it’s because of you that I got to see the sight I loved so much again. No matter the reason, you’ve brought me so much happiness.”
“Not nearly as much as you’ve brought me. I can never ever pay all that back.”
Haruka turns, the light obscuring her expression.
“Who ever said you had to?”
Minori can’t reply, only stammering.
“I-uh-um.”
“If anything, promise me you’ll pay it forward. Isn’t your dream to inspire others, like I inspired you?”
Minori nods so hard that Haruka fears she might injure her neck.
“Minori… You brought my love of being an idol back to me. You reminded me that the best part of being an idol is spreading love and joy, how much fun it is to give love.”
“But that’s what you did to me, Haruka! Just getting to love you- you as an idol, and now you as a person, brought me so much happiness! You’re the one who taught me that to love is an act of joy unto itself!”
Haruka’s smile deepens, becoming richer. Her hand sneaks over to Minori’s left, letting the tips brush against each other. It’s warm.
“Then don’t forget that yourself. Let performing be a gift, not a dues.”
Minori lets her fingers creep forward, lacing them in with Haruka’s.
“I will, Haruka, I promise.”
“Good.”
A breeze sweeps through, warm and even.
“And for the record,” Haruka adds, “I would like to get to know more about you, too. Like for starters… what soda flavour is that?”
Minori smiles.
“Strawberry!”
The light sparkles in Haruka’s eyes just right. She doesn’t say a word, but Minori already knows what she’s thinking, or would like to hope so.
“Wanna try it?” Minori offers before thinking about it. The half full bottle sparkles in vibrant pink as she swirls the drink around, picking it up to hand to Haruka.
“I suppose a little bit wouldn’t hurt…”
Her lips purse as she brings the bottle to her mouth, taking a small sip. A blush to match the beverage’s hue spreads across her cheeks.
“It’s sweet.”
“Ahaha, yeah…”
“I love it.”
And Minori is content to truly believe her.