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as much as it seems like you own my heart

Summary:

Emu knew that WxS was going to disband one day - that her partners and her would go separate ways one day. It was inevitable. Nene wanted to sing all around the world. Tsukasa wanted to be the world’s biggest star with the ability to make people all over the world smile. Rui wanted to direct big shows with crazy effects and staging. Her partners were off to bigger, better things.

And Emu?
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in which the future comes

day 2: future

Notes:

hi hi ! welcome back

today's song is astronomy by conan gray ! please make sure to listen to it either before or during reading <33

enjoy >:3c

Work Text:

Emu knew that WxS was going to disband one day - that her partners and her would go separate ways one day. It was inevitable. Nene wanted to sing all around the world. Tsukasa wanted to be the world’s biggest star with the ability to make people all over the world smile. Rui wanted to direct big shows with crazy effects and staging. Her partners were off to bigger, better things. 

 

And Emu?

 

Emu stayed stationary. Someone had to look after her grandfather’s park, right? 

 

There were often times when Emu would pass the Wonder Stage and see young high schoolers perform, grins as bright as her’s used to be and intricate stories and shows that reminded her of WxS. It reminded her of the days where they traveled all over for shows, from local to international, bringing smiles with them wherever they went. 

 

(We’ve traveled the seas, we’ve ridden the stars)

 

They promised to stay in touch. Through all the tears and hugs and sobs, they all promised to stay in touch. It worked out at first - Tsukasa would tell them of his endeavors internationally, the shows he was doing, the songs he was singing. Nene would tell them about her costumes and stories, describing the plays she was doing in detail. Rui would send them photos of his sets and videos of his special effects every day. Emu would tell them little tidbits about the park, excitedly showing them the progress on visitors. 

 

It was inevitable, Emu knew. 

 

It didn’t hurt any less when Tsukasa slowly stopped sending them long paragraphs and couple word answers. It didn’t hurt any less when Nene stopped speaking of the songs she loved so much. It didn’t hurt any less when Rui stopped rambling about the creations he loved so much.

 

The visits stopped, too. At first, they would coordinate - find a couple of days off to come back to Phoenix Wonderland and catch up, doing things around town that were familiar and fun to them. Emu would relish in these moments, her partners giving her the courage to keep moving, even when they weren’t physically by her side.

 

The visits started dwindling, though, as they couldn't find time that aligned with each other’s schedules. That’s okay! Emu knew this would happen, too. She went to them, sometimes, happy to sit in the theater and watch them rehearse and work. They would come to her at different times, staying for a day or two before leaving. 

 

But then they began to stop all together, and Emu found herself standing in the middle of her amusement park, watching the kids laughing and smiling and running around -

 

But she struggled to smile herself.

 

 But…

 

Emu remembered that before they left, they had a big group hug, and told her that nothing was going to change. That everything was going to be okay. That they would always make time to visit. That they would keep in touch, no matter how far, no matter the time difference - they were bound together, after all. Their bond was too strong to be broken by things like distance.

 

(You said “distance brings fondness”, but guess not with us.)

 

The last time Rui visited (how long ago was it?), they held hands and walked around, under the endless sky with stars shimmering. He spoke of the planets and how they each meant different things, how stars burned brightly not only for others, but for themselves. He gave her hand a kiss and told her not to worry, that if she ever got lonely, she could look up at the endless space and remember that they were all under the same sky - that they would always be connected. 

 

The next day, she said goodbye to Rui at the airport, then didn’t hear from him for three weeks. 

 

The last time Nene visited, they sat in Emu’s office together, looking at how bright the moon was, curled against one another. Nene wrapped an arm around Emu and told her that whenever they missed each other, they could always look at the moon and remember that they would always see the same moon, no matter what.

 

The next day, she said goodbye to Nene at the airport, then didn’t hear from her for two weeks.

 

The last time Tsukasa visited, they rode the ferris wheel, holding hands and making up constellations in the sky. Tsukasa made a constellation of stars that were all far apart, but connected at the same time. “We’re not always going to be together,” Tsukasa said. “But we’ll always be together , no matter what.”

 

The next day, she said goodbye to Tsukasa at the airport, then didn’t hear from him for a month. 

 

Emu tried - she really did. She cradled her hope, cradled the stars, the moon, the light that she so desperately wanted to keep flickering and burning, please please-

 

(Stop tryna keep us alive / You’re pointing at stars in the sky that already died)

 

“Stars burn brightly for not only others, but for themselves.” Rui said it with a soft smile, illuminated by the moonlight.

 

…stars also had a tendency to burn bright, then burn out.

 

Emu felt like she was holding a dying star, clutching it desperately to keep it alive. Keep burning, just for a little bit more, she begged. If I can do that, and they can come back, the fire will be ignited again. Please. Just a little more.

 

(You can’t force the stars to align - when they’ve already died.)

 

When Emu finally came to the conclusion that the star had burned out, she was inconsolable.

 

(Oh we’ve died. )

 

Emu knew this was coming. She didn’t blame any of them in the slightest. Her friends were off to bigger, better things. They didn’t have the time to reminisce on times long gone. She had no right to cry. No right to lament or feel upset.

 

Cradling the dim, dead star in her arms, Emu moved forward.

 

(It’s astronomy - we’re two worlds apart.)

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