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Shinonome Ena had many sleepless nights.
It came to no one’s surprise that the young illustrator of a music circle had nights where her eyes could not seem to close, instead staring with determination at the glow of her drawing tablet in hopes of seeking solace in the one thing she loved to do. In the late hours of her drawing sessions, she would hear a set of voices from her computer, checking up on her progress, or announcing a finished product that she needed to check out. The voices of her dear music circle members, giving feedback, occasionally bantering, chattering away over an upcoming release followed by a quick planning of an afterparty….
The lack of silence in her restless evenings was also her comfort. She even valued those discussions, no matter how irritated she could get. No matter how late it would get, Ena knew she would have company, seeking the same solace as she did.
Yet they came to an end recently, and Ena’s evenings were quieter.
Colder.
More haunting than comforting.
Ena still spent time on her drawings, and her beloved music circle members still talked with her, but the conversations had died down significantly. Instead, their meetings online would be filled with the soft clacks of her members’ keyboards, and nothing else.
The only conversations that occurred were the occasional progress checks from the composer K—Yoisaki Kanade, and the announcements of logging off for the evening, mostly from the lyricst Yuki—Asahina Mafuyu. No more of the banters, nor the small talk to procrastinate a little on work. Ena, who usually participated in these little conversations, could not find it in her to speak, as well.
After all, she knew the reason why everything abruptly stopped, and her safe space became less welcoming.
Eventually, she found her days merging together, and slowly she lost any drive to sleep.
As another restless night came to her, Ena blankly stared at her tablet screen, the unfinished piece glaring back at her with imperfections caused by the lack of sleep. Though, the more she stared at it, the more unfamiliar it looked to her. Any memory of drawing the piece had been lost to her, just as the days muddled together in an incoherent mess.
The rest of the circle members were not logged on for the evening, seeing as it had still been well before 25:00, yet Ena had been trying to occupy her dreary days with more work. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she picked up her tablet pen.
But nothing came to mind.
Not even a single stroke that she could reproduce onto the drawing application.
Her pen remained in the same spot, with Ena losing track of how long she had stared at her lack of progress until a voice broke through her trance.
“…Ena….”
A voice laced with worry, yet without holding the coldness of the tone back. Ena’s eyes tore away from the tablet and onto her computer screen, as Meiko stared back with her usual icy gaze. It felt so strange to have Meiko, who was known to always keep a distance to continue her observation, directly approach her, much less show this much concern. Meiko’s eyebrows merely flattened, as if she were trying to read the weariness in Ena’s eyes.
“What are you doing here?” Ena finally questioned, taking the time to place her tablet pen down. The listlessness behind her voice only made Meiko hum in unease.
“You look unwell. In fact, all three of you do,” Meiko merely pointed out, in an almost motherly way. “Kanade barely paid attention to Miku and the others when they tried to visit, focusing on nothing but her music, while Mafuyu’s been in this strange denial for a month now, wondering when things will go back to normal again. You…look like you haven’t gotten sleep.”
Ena wryly chuckled. “I haven’t,” she flatly responded. “I can’t, even if I tried to. I can’t even remember the last time I slept, to be honest with you….”
This did little to alleviate the Virtual Singer’s worries, instead only increasing them tenfold.
“Ena….” She started once more, moving herself closer within the screen. “Mizuki would not have wanted this for the three of you.”
Mizuki…?
Ena could no longer hear Meiko’s next few words, if she ever said any, as the name bounced in her head over and over again, feeling as if it were to burst out of her and into the darkness of her room. The name was one she hadn’t heard in weeks, locking it away like some forbidden treasure, never to be found by the average person.
Akiyama Mizuki.
Amia.
The fourth member of their music circle in charge of video editing…
…and the reason why Ena’s place of comfort was now in shambles.
“I killed Mizuki,” she muttered slowly, barely reaching the Virtual Singer even with her full attention on the illustrator. “It was because of me that Mizuki died. I knew they were hurting, and I tried to distract them from it, but it wasn’t enough. Never mind Kanade and Mafuyu; those two are just grieving. I killed Mizuki, and this is just…what I deserve.”
Meiko didn’t seem to buy her words, only releasing a sigh as she took a quick look around Ena’s dark, messy room. She took note of the crumpled balls of paper scattered, the paint tubes in disarray and staining her hardwood floor along with her paint brushes. The broken easel restlessly strewn across her unused bed. No doubt the mess had been done only recently, as Ena herself remained clean and without marks aside from the dark circles under her eyes.
“You didn’t kill Mizuki. As far as I can see, you’re simply pinning the blame on yourself,” Meiko sternly stated, her gaze returning to the tired artist. “Mizuki is not the type of person to put the blame on others. They are far too selfless that even if they’re hurting, they wouldn’t think about blaming everyone around them. Surely…you know about this, right?”
Ena refused to answer, as she didn’t believe Meiko.
But Meiko’s gaze softened once again, showing her sorry.
“…. I apologize, Ena. Perhaps…I’ve been the one to engrain the wrong idea to you,” Meiko continued on, apologetically looking away.
The illustrator knew what Meiko meant. During Mizuki’s last few days, Ena defied Meiko’s opinion as well as her own promises just to push forward into finding out what Mizuki worried about, only for it to lead to their death. Ena had done the very thing Meiko had said about forcing an answer out of Mizuki—that it would lead to a bad ending.
The vision of Mizuki under the rain—the very last time she saw them alive—haunted her.
Making her heart ache in such an excruciating way.
She had yet to shed a single tear, feeling as if she had no right to do so.
Ena turned away from Meiko, biting her bottom lip to subdue the pain. “…please, Meiko…. Please just leave….”
The woman sighed. “Then…please rest if I do. Please. Miku and the others are working on getting Kanade to rest, as well. Luka…is going to also talk to Mafuyu about this.”
With a dejected look, Meiko finally disappeared from her monitor, leaving her staring at an unmoving Nightcord chat log that reappeared. The last few messages had been nothing but files, most of which without context and coming from an overworked Kanade. Ena’s chocolate brown eyes darted back to her tablet, finding herself stuck on how to progress once more.
Maybe Meiko was right. She did need sleep.
Ena shut off her monitors, leaving her in a pitch black room. She begrudgingly shoved her broken easel away from her bed, clearing it enough for her to lie down on. “Just a few minutes,” she mumbled to herself. “Before the Nightcord meeting starts…”
With her arbitrary alarm set in her mind, Ena closed her eyes, hoping to drift off to sleep for at least 30 minutes.
A yawn escaped her lips as her eyes fluttered open.
Ena’s vision took a few moments to focus, helping her slowly realize that her 30 minute nap had become three hours instead. Groggily, she sat up, looking around her dark, unchanging room, with the only light coming from the blinking of her digital clock, marking the time past 3 am.
She had completely missed the Nightcord meeting, though Ena had no sense of urgency in her as she begrudgingly got up and made her way to her chair. “I should…apologize to Kanade and Mafuyu for being late,” she reminded herself, yet before she could even wake her monitor up from Sleep mode, she heard a strange noise at a rather late hour.
The sound of a doorbell.
“Huh? At this time…?” Ena pointed out, half expecting one of her parents or even Akito to answer. But after a few moments, the bell rang once more, followed by a well-timed notification on her phone.
Amia - 03:23
「Enanan~ I’m freezing out here, so can you please open the door? _(:3」z)_ 」
The sender had been one that she never expected to show up any longer, making Ena almost drop her phone in shock. “Mizuki…? B-But…how…?” she questioned, turning her phone off, then back on, just to double check.
Surely enough, Mizuki’s pseudo had been clearly printed on top of the very casual message. Ena shakily opened the notification, and in an instant, her barren Nightcord DMs with Mizuki showed up with the recent message.
“H-how…?” She repeated, and slowly, she grabbed whatever was closest to a weapon that she had—her painting knife—before heading out of her room. With one hand gripping her phone tightly, the message still open and illuminating the dark hallways of her house, and the other shakily holding her painting knife out in defense, Ena made it to her front door.
Ena took a deep breath.
She slipped her phone in her pocket, and cautiously opened the door.
A pair of bright ametrine eyes looked back at her.
There Mizuki was, alive as they could be. They wore their favourite blue and white dress, hair that’s as fluffy as cotton candy neatly tied into their signature side ponytail and held together by a ribbon matching their clothes. Their smile faded into that of slight fear at the sight of the paint tool aimed at them like a weapon, however they showed no signs of aggression back. “Please put that thing down! Do you always treat visitors like that, Ena?”
Even their teasing voice sounded so normal, so Mizuki.
“…. M-Mizuki…. It…really is you….” Ena muttered, dropping the tool as she slowly reached out to them. Mizuki only responded with a laugh.
“Aw, did you really miss me that much? I’m flattered, Enanan~” They chimed, though they didn’t hesitate in taking Ena’s extended hand. “Come on, Miss Nocturnal. I have some special places to take you, so you can de-stress from work!”
“W-Wai— Mizuki…!”
Mizuki pulled Ena out of the house, without care for the fact that the girl had been in her pyjamas and in house slippers. Hand in hand, the two friends ran through the empty streets at three in the morning, with only the light of the moon and the street lights illuminating their path.
As they made their way out of the residential areas and into the skyscraper-filled Scramble Crossing, they slowed down into a walk. Mizuki looked around the increase in lights, the bright signs causing their eyes to shine with childlike wonder.
“M-Mizuki…? H-how are you here…? You’re…dead, aren’t you?” Ena stuttered, finding no reason to look at the shining illumination surrounding them. She recognized the path they were taking, opposite to Centre Street and diverging from the shopping mall they usually frequented.
The illustrator had too many questions running in her mind, unable to make sense as to why Mizuki, someone who had passed away over a month ago, had been right in front of her. Were they a ghost? A hallucination that her mind conjured up from the lack of sleep? Or someone that just looked and acted exactly like Mizuki to try and play games with her? Whoever, or whatever it was in front of her, had just been effortlessly taking Ena around the empty Shibuya, with a bright, childish smile upon their face.
Ena knew this was wrong, and downright scary, but she couldn’t seem to turn Mizuki’s actions away despite her many inquiries.
Her questions fell into deaf ears, as Mizuki started to hum a little tune while whisking her away into a rather familiar alleyway.
Kamiyama Street.
“Mizuki….” Ena started once more, finally catching the attention of the younger individual who only turned back with their usual welcoming smile. “What are you doing…?”
“Like I said! I’m taking you to some special places so you can de-stress!” They repeated with a playful, dramatic scoff, as if to tease Ena for not getting it the first time. Ena, however, didn’t mean it that way, and surely trying to explain it to this rather adamant Mizuki would be pointless.
They soon reached an art gallery. Of course, with it being so late at night, the doors and lights were shut, but that did not stop Mizuki from briefly letting Ena’s hand go to dig through their pockets for a set of keys.
“H-hey, wait…! Is that even legal?” Ena exclaimed, but Mizuki merely gave a hearty laugh as the doors clicked open.
“It can’t be illegal if I have the keys, Enanan~” they whispered in a sing-song tone, dangling the keys proudly with their index finger before leading Ena into the gallery. Ena could not hold her wonder back, being the artist that she aspired to be, and waited patiently as Mizuki reached the light switches to flick them on.
And to Ena’s surprise, the art gallery held nothing but her paintings up on display.
“W-what…?”
Ena was left in complete shock, barely registering Mizuki’s proud smile as if the works belonged to them rather than hers.
All of Ena’s works, right from the beginning of her art journey. Everything she worked on at school, in her free time, in Yukihira’s art classes…
…yet the most prominent out of the art displayed had been the ones she worked on as a Niigo member, which Mizuki took great interest in.
“Isn’t it amazing, Ena?” Mizuki said, their tone holding a sense of calm that Ena has never heard of before. They took a look at one of the pieces which Ena instantly recognized; the painting of the lost girl crying in the forest. It was the piece Ena crafted upon first hearing Kanade’s song, which Mizuki took and created an MV out of without her initial permission. “This one is one of my favourites. You captured the feeling of Kanade’s song so perfectly well, and I thought it was a shame that no one else seemed to give it interactions on social media.”
As Mizuki spoke, Ena observed every detail of the painting. She could see the imperfections in techniques that she knew she could now improve on, yet the more she stared at the illustration finding those imperfections, the more she saw the memories that were held with the piece.
Having failed her art school entrance exam, and realizing that the one way she could get the attention she wanted hadn’t been through her art. Ena grew tired of it all, thinking that pursuing the one dream she had since childhood might’ve been useless after all.
Then she heard Kanade’s song, and before she knew it, her brush moved as tears flowed from her eyes.
Yet what made it truly special was when she received a sudden DM from Amia—Mizuki—stating that they made an MV out of her art.
It was one of the reasons why Ena was able to push forward with her art, no matter how much it hurt her to do so.
“Ah, but I also like this one, Ena,” she heard Mizuki say, as they pointed at another piece displayed next to it. “Remember this one? This is the one we worked on together for the very first time Kanade and Mafuyu asked us to make an MV together!” They went on, even going as far as leaning close to the point where their fingers could barely graze the unbalanced lines of the girl holding onto a box.
Ena saw this as another imperfect piece, but this time, she couldn’t bring herself to critique it as the memories once again washed over her.
Their very first MV together. While the process wasn’t as smooth-sailing as they expected in the beginning, the two of them worked out their differences. Ena learned that there were other people out there who felt the same pain she did, but only dealt with it differently. The reason for Mizuki’s hurt was not identical to hers, but it was thanks to their mindset that she was able to see a different angle than her own.
It was thanks to them that she learned how others took being hurt. She would scream to the top of her lungs, while someone like Mizuki would remain silent and force a smile, no matter how much their problems weighed them down.
Mizuki’s problems….
Come to think of it, Ena…had yet to hear what really bothered Mizuki.
The pain that ultimately led to their death.
“…Mizuki,” she began, only receiving a hum from the younger individual who kept their attention fixated upon the drawings. They began to walk, observing every single piece that Ena drew for Niigo, prompting the illustrator to follow them. “…. Why did you do it…? Why did you…leave…?”
Mizuki said nothing, smile still remaining intact.
“…Hey, Mizuki…?”
Nothing.
They only gave a variety of reactions to each piece, as if reminiscing on their own. Ones of amazement, nostalgia, and slight bitterness. However, none of the pieces received an overly negative reaction, much to Ena’s surprise. She thought about trying to ask them once again, but the small, gentle smile on Mizuki’s face forced her not to.
But they stopped dead in their tracks upon the painting at the very end of the gallery.
“Ena…. This one’s blank,” Mizuki stated, turning towards Ena and tugging on her sleeve like a little child.
Ena did not see a blank canvas, however. Instead it had been a completed piece staring back at her. The very piece she tried to complete before her slumber, now hanging up on display.
A person, who looked similar to Mizuki, had been breaking out of a cocoon, and into a new world accompanied by glass butterflies. The translucent watercolour effect especially jumped out to her, which had been the intent she had been hoping to accomplish.
She wanted to capture the essence of being set free, and her vision had been perfectly captured by the canvas hanging on the wall.
What had been bizarre to her, amongst all the other strange occurrences, had been the fact that Mizuki could not see what she saw.
“What are you talking about, Mizuki? I could see it clearly,” Ena remarked, finger tracing the framed cocoon that the subject of the painting burst out from. Mizuki, however, only gave it a puzzled look, only silently telling Ena that they had no idea what she was talking about.
But in that moment, a single glance towards Mizuki’s confused look told Ena the answer, and it had been quite a simple one as well. Reminding Ena that the Mizuki before her could merely be a figment of her imagination.
The painting that Mizuki could not see had been the very first painting Ena did after their death.
Mizuki had remained silent as they exited the art gallery and made their way back into Kamiyama Street, only holding onto Ena’s hand once more as if to keep her from getting lost.
In turn, Ena said nothing as well, despite the swirling thoughts in her mind echoing. She still had no clear answer as to why she was outside, why Shibuya had been so barren of people, and why Mizuki was right in front of her, alive and well, when she saw their demise a month ago. She stopped voicing out her inquiries, knowing that she would not get a straight answer out of Mizuki no matter what.
But admittedly, Ena has already grown fond of this short time. Perhaps it had been the longing in her heart. The desire to once again see Mizuki. She clung onto this opportunity, even as she still remained confused. For the time being, she would stop trying to make sense of the strange… phenomenon before her.
Because if she let go of this moment, she may never see Mizuki again.
The two of them neared Kamiyama High School, with the path being more clear and familiar to Ena as it’s one she’s taken dozens of times. To her surprise, however, the doors and gates to the school grounds had been completely open, as if welcoming the two friends in.
Mizuki turned to her with a grin. “I’ve always wanted to explore the school when no one’s around, you know?” They chimed, pulling Ena further in. “Don’t get scared now, Enanan~”
While Mizuki’s teasing had some sense, as Ena was easily frightened by dark, nearly abandoned places, she couldn’t find it in her to be scared this time around. Nor did she think of this as an adventure like the younger individual did.
She steeled herself, and let Mizuki lead her straight to the rooftop.
All at once, she felt the terror attack her as she started fearing for the worst.
The rooftop…. The last place Ena saw Mizuki alive.
Now the two of them were back there again, as dusk slowly disappeared before them.
“Mizuki…? Why are we here…?” She questioned, wanting to back away.
However, Mizuki let Ena’s hand go, approaching the fence. “Ena,” they began, attention towards the slowly fading night sky. “The night’s almost about to end, huh? It almost makes me feel lonely to think about.”
Ena could not take another step forward, but her silence was taken as a cue for Mizuki to keep speaking. “I’m sorry, Ena…. I guess our time together is about to come to an end. All of this will go away soon, when the sun rises.”
“You’re…going…?” Ena blurted out, the rest of the words getting stuck in her throat. In the short time she’s spent with this bizarre phenomenon, a month after Mizuki disappeared from her life, Ena had come to hold it dear. To know that the person she regrettably pushed into death had given her this one last opportunity to see them, and for it to come to a close in a few short minutes, it pained Ena.
She didn’t want to let go, after all.
She didn’t want Mizuki to go.
But Mizuki turned back to look at her, a gentle smile painted on their fair face. The slow rise of the sun illuminated their ethereal figure, causing Ena to let out a clipped gasp. “You’ll be fine, Ena. Because I know you’re strong, and even if you fall and cry, you’ll bounce right back up.”
Ena could only shake her head, reaching out, but her limbs could no longer move.
Mizuki chuckled one last time.
“Because you’re Ena. The strong-willed, tsundere, kind girl that only wanted to help me. You’ll get up from this, and you’ll also be the one to help Kanade and Mafuyu.”
“W-wait, Mizuki…!”
The illustrator dropped to her knees, only pitifully watching as the figure before her began to disappear along with the night sky. She refused to let this moment go, not when she knew that she would never see Mizuki again.
“Y-you can’t go yet…! Please….”
The smile that Mizuki gave had been the brightest one yet.
“Ena, thank you…. Goodbye.”
As the sun rose, Mizuki vanished.
But before Ena could shed a tear, her vision blackened.
The bright, unfamiliar light filtered through the curtains as the young woman stirred from her slumber, a soft groan escaping her lips.
Morning had come, and Ena’s eyes fluttered open to the sight of her messy room. As she sat up, rubbing the tiredness from her eyes, her mind processed the dream that she viewed during her surprisingly long rest.
Oh. A dream…. It was just…a dream….
It had been the first time in a month that Ena had gotten decent sleep, and for once, she felt rather well rested. She recalled the dream, everything that she saw, as well as the refusal to let go of the scenery before her. Despite her disappointment, Ena felt none of it.
Instead, she felt the slight pang of pain, being soothed the more she remembered the little journey that she and Mizuki took in her dream. Their words echoed in her mind. The reassurance that they gave Ena, and their final goodbye.
Before she knew it, her vision blurred with tears, trickling down faster than she could stop them.
For the first time in a month, Ena cried.
Ena let herself weep.
Her tears showed no signs of stopping, instead only falling faster as she tried to wipe them with her sleeves. Ena’s voice escaped her, turning from soft hiccups to loud sobs.
“M-Mizuki…. Mizuki…!” She cried out, unable to hold back anymore. It cut her deeply to know that she would never see her friend once again, but it hurt her more to know that Mizuki would’ve never wanted her to become stuck. She didn’t want to move on quite yet, and perhaps she wasn’t ready, but Ena knew what Mizuki meant.
She had to move forward.
As the illustrator cried her heart out, she drowned out her surroundings, failing to notice the holographic illumination coming from her phone.
The projection of the brown-haired woman merely lasted a few seconds, but a small, bitter smile graced her face before she uttered a few words that surely went unheard.
“I hope you can find it in your heart to move forward, Ena…. For Mizuki’s sake.”