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Kita Ikuyo is a trailblazer, Nijika muses.
The warmth under the stage lights emanates flickers of glowing star-like twinkles, creating a beautiful mirage in the shadows. The audience murmurs as their phone lights flash, cheers resounding for Kessoku Band.
There's no doubt that all eyes are on the red-haired singer. Their shining star, a fiery gaze burns intensely in her eyes.
Bright. So unbelievably radiant.
"We're Kessoku Band! Please listen to our song...!"
A loud roar erupts from the crowd as Nijika taps her drumsticks four times, signaling the rest to get ready.
"One, two, three, four!"
Nijika can't take her eyes off Kita, who seems unaware of how stunning she looks. She's got that beaming smile that lights up the entire venue.
No, the compliments she conjured in her head doesn't seem to cover the full extent at all. Not a single bit; Nijika's thoughts are all jumbled up, unable to find a single expression for how deeply she's immersed in her own world.
Nijika doesn't exactly know when she started feeling this way. It just clicked, as swiftly as a lightning strike.
It all makes sense.
The way her heartbeat accelerates when she meets Kita's eyes, and the slight tremor in her chest when she laughs. It's all so clear.
It's... a strange sensation that overflows Nijika with the warmth of a summer sun, making her chest tight and her stomach flutter.
Nijika's mind is racing, but her heart is beating calmly in her chest, creating a steady rhythm that helps her focus and center herself. Her lips curl up as she slams her drumsticks onto the cymbal, trying not to stare too much at Kita's back.
The quartet's symphony goes on.
Nijika craves Kita's warm fingers holding her hand, desires Kita's beaming grin directed at her, and needs the positivity Kita always seems to have—especially when the situation calls for it.
She's greedy, wanting more of those fleeting moments with her. Greedy for the warmth that emits from their hands when they brush, or the heat of their bodies pressing against each other.
Hot. It's so hot. The red flush on her cheeks grows as she starts to pant from exertion. Even though her mind is telling her to stop, she cannot suppress the deep yearning of her heart.
Stop thinking. Just listen.
That's how Nijika discovered the drums. The constant rumbles and beats against her eardrums help to drown out the screams of her thoughts. It's so easy to just sit in the shadows, and distract her heart from the overwhelming impulses.
Sometimes it doesn't work. Nijika struggles to control her impulses at times, but she's working on it.
(A work in progress.)
But she's afraid of what might happen if she takes one step further, or of ruining everything they've worked hard to build.
But she wants more.
(More, more, and even more.)
And maybe—just maybe—Kita would feel the same way. She hopes.
It feels like an endless dream, a fanciful dream she doesn't want to wake up from. Nijika desperately clings to a beautiful illusion where her feelings are reciprocated, a fantasy she holds onto.
She's scared. So scared to take the final leap and risk everything she has. But if it were Kita who was there to pull her into her arms and tell her it will be alright—maybe then, just once, she'd let herself believe in the hope blossoming inside of her.
Nijika notices the way Kita looked at her when they woke up, tangled in a mess of limbs after an impromptu sleepover.
Or perhaps Kita thinks the same. That she's not misinterpreting the unsaid words, and unspoken thoughts flooding their minds.
Nijika closes her eyes, letting the music guide her as her hands hit the snare and the ride cymbals in quick succession.
More...?
It's the first time Nijika has allowed herself to entertain this thought or have something she really wants. It's something that frightens her, but also excites her at the same time.
It's okay to be selfish sometimes.
(Just not too often, her sister would say.)
"I'll be your wings..." the words flowed naturally from Nijika's lips as she gazed at Kita's figure, who was standing right in front of her.
Nijika's heart is pounding in her ears, but she can't stop. The emotions flow freely from within, like a river that has been dammed. The urge to take the leap is strong. Those special moments they shared couldn't be brushed off, no matter how much she tried.
No, she couldn't. She never could bring herself to do it.
It's just too precious for her.
She wants Kita. She needs her. Her ears buzz with the atmosphere as the crowd cheers, only to be drowned out by Kita's vocals.
Nijika never gets tired of hearing her sing; she never does. If she could listen to Kita sing for days, she would.
A crossroad.
A line.
The line connects to a door.
Nijika teeters on the edge, feeling hesitant yet cautiously optimistic.
"Where am I...?" Nijika hesitates, exhaling shakily. She feels herself reel back a step but forces herself to move forward.
In this peculiar space, there seems to be nothing else. No walls, no ceiling. There is only a floor and a single door.
No, she's already here. It's not the time to hesitate.
It was just too fast. It's still difficult for Nijika to comprehend or accept, even though it was obvious from the start. It's like a puzzle laid out in front of her, but without instructions on how to assemble it.
Or how it's right under her nose the whole time.
It kept staring her straight in the face, but it took Nijika until the end to put the last pieces together.
Please don't disappear on me, was what she wanted to say. Stay, was what she wanted to whisper.
Don't go anywhere without me.
Nijika extends a hand, her fingertips trembling slightly, and her breath coming in short gasps.
She just needs to muster the strength to turn the doorknob, even if she's frightened. And if she's lucky, she hopes Kita will be by her side when she finally does.
And so, Nijika prays.
Praying for a miracle. For the universe to align. She prays for something, anything, that will help her take that final step towards the door.
The stage fades into darkness.
Nijika's eyes open, and she stares at Kita's face—so close, yet so far. She's smiling at her—the kind of smile that reaches all the way to her eyes. It makes her heart flutter, with butterflies in her stomach. It's overwhelming, really.
Kita's smile is contagious, and Nijika smiles too. It's the best sight. Her resolve strengthens, bringing forth the final piece of the puzzle.
She doesn't want this to end. She doesn't.
Nijika's fingers twitch, her body moving involuntarily as she reaches for Kita from afar.
She wants more, she wants...
The world stops spinning. Everything freezes in time. Nijika's eyes meet Kita's, and the moment their gazes lock—everything is set in motion once again.
Nijika's heart pounds in her ears, but it's not the same as it was before. The warmth spreads across her face, causing the tips of her ears to redden.
The fragmented moment ends. Nijika's hand retracts. She surrenders to the rhythm once more, letting it drown out everything else as she plays through the final chorus of the song, with Kita's voice echoing in her mind.
Nijika's head is spinning, and it feels like her heart is about to burst.
With each intensifying measure that passes, Nijika couldn't help but get lost in her own thoughts. The steady beat of the drums, the rhythmic strumming of the guitar strings, and the resonating plucking of the bass strings sent shivers down her arms. Amidst all the noise and chaos, she could still hear Kita's voice, cutting through the clamor with its strength and clarity.
She's so engrossed in the performance that she doesn't expect Kita to look over her shoulder, a brief eye-contact as their gazes meet. It's only a second, but it feels like time stands still.
Nijika shudders as Kita hits the high notes, her voice carrying a raw emotion that makes her heart skip a beat. It was as if Kita was singing directly to her, expressing every emotion and thought she had bottled up inside.
Her cheeks are flushed. Her palms are sweaty. She can't tear her eyes away from Kita, and she can't stop thinking about kissing her.
She wants it so badly that it's almost painful. She has reached a point where she can no longer concentrate.
Is this a normal feeling?
Nijika's emotions are in turmoil, but her body is moving on its own.
The stage lights seems to dim, focusing all attention on Kita as she closes her eyes and sways to the music. Her every movement was graceful, and her whole presence captivating. Nijika couldn't take her eyes off of her, feeling herself drawn in like a moth to a flame.
As the song reaches its climax, the crowd erupts into premature applause. Nijika barely registers it. All she could think about was Kita, and how desperately she wanted to be near her.
But just for now, in this pocket of time, where Nijika can truly play her drums with her beloved band.
Nijika closes her eyes and basks in the glow of it all—the music, the cheers, and the excitement. Her eyes flutter open, taking in the sight of the stage.
It's bright, almost blinding. But there's also an underlying warmth that radiates from it—something she's grown familiar with. This is something she knows all too well.
She's on fire. Burning. Alive and thriving. The fiery passion courses through her veins and swallows her whole.
But at the same time, she's melting. Burning from within. Her heart feels heavy, like a lead weight in her chest. And yet, it still manages to soar.
It's like a dance of fire and ice, and Kita is her anchor, the sole force behind the storm of her emotions.
Nijika is burning; her fingers on fire, and her heart feels like it's about to explode. She allows it. She lets her body succumb to the ignited flames, reveling in the way they consume her.
Her heart races, pumping blood as her body thrums with energy.
She feels powerful.
The stage is bright—too bright. But she's drawn to the heat of the lights and the roar of the crowd.
Nijika's a performer. She lives for this.
She closes her eyes once more, allowing the sounds to wash over her in waves.
Nijika feels the music resonating in her bones as it pulses through her veins. This is what it means to truly live, isn't it? To lose yourself in the music, in the moment.
She loses track of time completely. She is floating. Her body feels weightless, and the world around her is nothing but a blur.
She's flying as she soars above the clouds.
Free.
And when the last note fades away as the ending approaches, she comes crashing back down to earth.
The high has faded. She has been grounded again. But she still feels it—the lingering echoes in the air.
Nijika takes a deep breath and tries to steady herself. She's shaking as her body buzzes with energy.
She opens her eyes and sees the faces in front of her, blending together into a sea of indistinguishable shapes.
Nijika yearns for Kita like the sun on a frigid day. She's drawn to her warmth, her light, and her presence. It's a profound ache that settles in her chest and never dissipates.
(It's a constant longing, an endless desire for what she couldn't possibly attain.)
It's a bit like chasing a dream, Nijika realizes. You can chase after it forever but never quite catch it.
But... she has noticed the way Kita looks at her when she thinks she's not looking. Sunkissed cheeks, flushed and rosy, and a smile that illuminates a room like a thousand fireflies in the night sky.
She can't believe she's so sentimental and hopelessly smitten with another person, especially someone as close to her as Kita.
It's like a chapter ripped from the pages of a fairytale interlude, but Nijika knows it's real, and so does she.
It's not a storybook, but a song; the melody plays an endless tune. An ode to the very cause of her heart's current predicament as it shatters into a million pieces, only to be stitched back together.
Nijika's fingers press down on the cymbals in a flurry as she hits the bass pedal, allowing her legs to apply all her weight onto the kick drum.
Ridiculous. This—them—it's just... it's just a passing thing, she tells herself. It will fade away soon, like a flower in the spring, blooming bright and vivid one season before wilting away in the next.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
But she can't continue deceiving herself; she's been pining over Kita for longer than she's willing to admit.
And maybe Kita feels the same way. Nothing was said outright, but there are moments—those times when their eyes meet and the world stops spinning—that give Nijika pause.
(This play in her head—it's all hypothetical, of course. But still.)
It doesn't mean it will ever come true—this fantasy she keeps replaying in her mind.
Endlessly.
(Over and over.)
Nijika breathes out, her cheeks tinged with a pinkish hue, hidden by the shadows of the stage.
This is her home. It's exactly where she wants to be.
Behind the scenes, there is a strong pillar of support with the solid beats of the drums. Bocchi's guitar cries out with a thunderous atmosphere, while Ryo's unwavering bass resonates from her heart, and—
Kita-chan...
Breaking out of the internal soliloquy she's caught in, her heart skips a beat once, and then again after a few seconds. It's quite amusing, actually. How deep she has fallen into the tempest, overtaking her mind and being. It's as though she’s on a tumultuous sinking ship, and Kita's the one who pulls her away from it.
But even so, Kita is a trailblazer.
A trail blaze, a spark—a light that illuminates her path in the darkness.
She is the guiding sun in her own sky—her moon, stars, and everything else in between. She is the fire that burns within.
The warmth spreads from her heart to the tips of her fingertips. She wants to stay like this a little longer, a little more. She wants to see Kita sparkle brighter than any star in the night sky, and she'll do whatever it takes to make it happen.
She'll be her wings, soaring through the skies together.
She'll be their guide, mapping out the routes if they ever get lost.
They'll blaze a trail on the roads ahead with their band.
Her band.
And with everyone together, they're going to soar.
The finale ends with a hard crash of Nijika's cymbals, followed by silence...
A shuddering gasp, and—
—until the crowd cheers the loudest they’ve ever been. This is the sight Nijika wants to see every time, or every day if she could.
Nijika can't get enough of this view. It's electrifying, almost like being infused with some kind of adrenaline shot. The cheers, the applause, the chants of their names... they all fuel her, motivating her to play with greater intensity, skill, and strength.
And the one person she's looking at is Kita —with her eyes wide, mouth slightly agape—as if this were the first time she had ever experienced it.
Nijika's chest heaves as she catches her breath, her body covered in a thin layer of sweat. She's exhausted, yet her mind is still reeling from the performance. Her face flushed red from the heat of the lights, her hands sore from playing for so long, but the adrenaline rush is worth every second of it. It makes her feel alive.
This is where she wants to be, now and always. She won't trade this for anything else.
Her beating heart's on fire.
And it's all because of Kita Ikuyo.
...
Everything always comes back to her, doesn't it?
(In the midst of a roaring crowd and colorful stage lighting, Ijichi Nijika falls in love with a star.)