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Music seemed to follow her no matter where she went.
The literature assigned for reading flowed into new lyric ideas, the ticking of the clock reminded her of the rhythm to one of Kanade’s compositions…
Mafuyu’s chest ached at the thought. It was a peculiar feeling, between the long periods of numbness that dictated her days, but she’s sure the others would rouse at the mention of such a fact, asking her to describe in more clarity exactly what she was feeling.
She felt…
She saw Ena’s own artwork within textbook illustrations, Mizuki’s style within a video presented to the rest of the class, and she heard Kanade’s music within the slightest noise breaking the classroom’s quiet.
Her pencil hovered over her paper, as if trying to will itself to stop thinking of Nightcord and focus on the math on the page. This was her future, not music. So why did her heart feel so heavy at the idea?
“Mafuyu, is everything alright?”
She turned to her side, seeing the concerned expression of a classmate.
“Ah, yes,” She said, instinctually slipping into the persona she presented amongst her classmates, “I’m just trying to figure out this problem, that’s all.”
“Well I’m sure you’ll have no trouble, you’re the best student in this class,” the classmate replied, before turning back to her own work.
The best in the class… That’s what her mom acted in the interest of. Shelves upon shelves of study guides, cram school and extracurriculars and studying filling every waking hour—to become a doctor and do her family proud. Her mom was attentive, making sure she had every resource she needed to reach her goal, and all she asked was for Mafuyu to focus on her studies. If she couldn’t fulfill such a small request, then what was it all for?
She absentmindedly scratched answers onto the paper, body feeling as though it was on autopilot, while her mind was elsewhere. Every attempt to find reconnection only left more of a dull pain, thinking of the Sekai or Nightcord.
The teacher called upon her and she answered, painfully aware this time of how different she truly feels the moment another person lays eyes on her. She felt her voice rise an octave and it felt so unnatural, so fake, so hollow. For the first time in many years, it didn’t feel like her one claim to normalcy, but an ill fitting mask she’d long since outgrown. The only place she knew would ease that feeling was Nightcord. Even despite Ena’s annoyance (her more frequent occurrences of warmness still felt out of place), she, Mizuki, and Kanade all supported her even after she dropped the persona. Her comments delivered in monotone were taken just as seriously, “I don’t know”s understood perfectly, all of it to waste because a good girl doesn’t spend the late hours of the night working on music. A good girl studies for her medical exam, then for university, and then spends the rest of her days pursuing a good, honorable career.
Mafuyu can’t imagine living so long. She tried to picture her future as a doctor, tried to imagine the later years of using a well earned salary to take care of her mom and dad in their old age, even just to imagine a year from now. But try as she might, it comes up blank. She just can’t. So much time spent a moment away from deciding to disappear that even now, when she believes she’s found something she can hang onto, she can’t imagine what it means to decide to continue going on.
She looked up from her paper and scanned the classroom. All completely unaware of all she’d been thinking. To them, she was just quiet, good girl Asahina.
The rest of the day felt like a blur, going through the motions as always. She greeted her mother as she came home, answered with one of the many trained excuses by now of what she’d be studying upstairs, and as she went, shut the door behind her. It wasn’t until she pulled the chair and sat at her desk she was finally able to think straight.
In the past she would’ve logged onto Nightcord to see if she’d missed anything, even if she wouldn’t be able to get much work done on the song until her parents were asleep. But with her mother checking her computer she knew it wasn’t an option. She should study, but it rarely came easy to her in the past days as her mind kept drifting back to her friends. New song lyrics would come to mind and she’d think of sending it to them, an impulse that couldn’t be followed through on. She’d wonder about Kanade’s next demo track, Ena’s latest works, or Mizuki’s progress on a new video, and she’d steel herself, reminding herself it’s for the best. They weren’t gone forever, the many times she’d seen one of them whilst walking home proved such a fact, but it wasn’t the same.
Her mom wanted what was best for her. Even if she wasn’t being fair, didn’t understand what she was really saying, it wasn’t out of ill intent. So why couldn’t she find it in her heart to understand her motivations and get over this?
“She’s trying to kill your own feelings”
That’s what KAITO had said to her in the Sekai.
She’d recoiled against his harsh words, angered at the insinuation she hadn’t tried hard enough, her resolve was weak, and that her mom was…
But there was some clarity she could find now, no longer being clouded by how raw the emotions were.
Her mom wanted what was best for her, that was all…
So why did she feel an undercurrent of dread talking to her, even when she’d done nothing wrong? Why did she try to express her dreams, first in nursing, then in music, only to be continually shot down by the person who should support her? Why did the others in Nightcord act strangely the few times they overheard her and her mom speaking?
Was it possible for someone to kill your feelings without ever meaning to?
The line of thinking came like a river of ideas. Mafuyu shuffled through her things for an empty notebook. In case she could continue music again, one day, she thought. Lyric writing was the one thing that could put her feelings into clarity—Nightcord taught her that much. So, as she continued on the train of thought, she wrote.
Because did it matter if her mom was well intentioned? And she was, she had to be. But it didn’t change the fact she felt suffocated. Every day trying to perform and reason with her, to justify doing anything that wasn’t on the pre-established path for her. For her own sake, she knew, but never quite. Doctor instead of nurse, music therapy instead of lyricism, everything had to be compromised to be considered. Ena and KAITO told her to fight back, to express how she really felt, and she did. But it didn’t work. Nothing she did worked. Her best moments to others came at the worst for herself, so close to deciding to disappear completely. She wanted to appease her mom, but it so often came at the price of her own stability.
Maybe this is what he meant by killing her feelings.
Everything her mom fought against was what helped Mafuyu find herself again. Music gave her an outlet, her friends gave her a space to discover herself. She still couldn’t figure out who she was, necessarily, but it felt closer to a sense of identity than she’d ever felt otherwise. Without Kanade, Mizuki, and Ena, would she even still be around?
Even if her mom didn’t mean to, she knew she was hurting. Worse still, she’d come so close to feeling better, only to have it come crashing down anyways.
She didn’t know many things. How she felt, what she liked, what she didn’t—but the clarity these few thoughts came from gave her a sense of certainty:
She wanted to make music.
She wanted to do it with Kanade, Ena, and Mizuki.
It pained her to hurt her mom like this, but the confidence she held made it seem a necessary sacrifice. She hoped her mom would come around one day and see the great work the group does, see there’s success to be found in music, that it isn’t either or. Then things will be okay. She won’t have to choose anymore.
For now, though, she knew what she wanted. For once, it wasn't a reluctant resignation, but a hope.
She looked down at the flow of thoughts, messy, incomplete, but unfiltered. It was a start though. It could be edited, made into something tangible and usable. She’ll give it to Kanade, and maybe it will be what saves them both.
Mafuyu can wait until then. For once she has something to hold onto.