Chapter Text
"I don't get it Mizuki, why can't the princess wake-up?"
It's a question that would normally have Mizuki snickering in amusement. Something in the genre where they'd retort with some cheeky comment about the subject's media literacy or impatience. Now, however, they were simply stuck for words. Len's voice was so innocent , so pure. His remark didn't come from impertinence or trepidation for the unknown pages that lay in wait, it was genuine curiosity. The mind of a whimsical child who hadn't yet discovered that the longer a book was read, the more information it revealed. His appearance wasn't helping matters either: clad in a light gray gown which gave him the appearance of a sickly Victorian child. Mizuki couldn't poke fun at him, they'd be a monster if they did.
"A curse was put on her!" Mizuki exclaimed, raising their hands ominously for added effect, "she'll never be able to wake up! Well...almost never!"
"Almost?" Len repeated, his eyes widening, "then how can she wake up? It must be awful to be asleep for so long."
"Only a true love's kiss can stir her awake from her eternal nightmare!" Mizuki explained, though to be honest, they weren't actually sure if this picture book kept up with that version of the fairy tale. With their luck, Sleeping Beauty would end up getting awakened by an apple falling on her head or something.
"Who's going to kiss her?" Len asked.
"That's what we have to find out Len!" Mizuki said, "are you finished looking at the picture on this page? We can move on when you're ready."
Len nodded and turned his attention to colorful watercolor spread in front of him. Mizuki watched as he methodically combed over the pictures, drinking in every small nuance and detail. They took the opportunity to stretch, letting loose a few pops from their compressed vertebrae as they tried to remember the series of events that led them here.
Mizuki wasn't planning on visiting Sekai today, it just sort of...happened. See, Sekai was a sort of oasis for them. A place for them to be away from any and all people - besides baffling clothed virtual singers. Mizuki liked people. Really, they did! But sometimes after a rough day, they just wanted to be alone. Sitting in their room left an opening for their beyond well-meaning parents to check in on them - which was fine - but ruined the appeal of being alone. Technically the rest of Nightcord could disrupt them while they were here, but that felt different. They all shared a deep bond by this point - a sort of shared trauma not often seen with people their age. Sure, Kanade or Mafuyu waltzing in might disrupt them, but the flavor one got from solitude was close enough to the one that formed when they were together.
Today hadn't been a necessarily bad day, but it wasn't good either. Despite the school year barely being underway, Mizuki's attendance wasn't great. That meant supplemental classes, which meant unfamiliar faces, which meant unsavory conversations. Mizuki had gotten to the point where they didn't pay too much attention to what people said about them anymore, but that didn't mean it was any more pleasant to listen to. Coupled with the fact they didn't have work, plans, or a Nightcord meeting meant Mizuki was primed to head to Sekai in an effort to wind down. Upon doing their usual saunter through the gray, empty plane, they'd run into Len, who was clutching a picture book in search of Miku; hoping she'd be able to read to him. Mizuki was no Miku, but they weren't about to leave him all alone. Cue a dramatic re-telling of Sleeping Beauty, the ending of which - again - was up in the air.
Len politely cleared his throat, snapping Mizuki back to attention. They smiled, and were about to turn the page to carry on, when the familiar sound of something akin to a set of quiet wind chimes filled the air. A sudden bright white light illuminating the surrounding area instantly made Mizuki understand they wouldn't be alone for very long. They turned to face the jingle, faintly lamenting the fact they would no longer be comfortably alone in the void. However, any semblance of grief melted away in an instant upon seeing the figure standing before them.
It wasn't fair, really. How Mizuki's heart felt the need to run circles around itself every time Ena Shinonome stepped into their field of view. Seriously, of all the people they knew, she was the one who set their brain to DEFCON 1. Her perfectly ordinary brown hair with a ribbon that Mizuki could tell she spent a non-zero amount of time uniquely tying each morning. The weird amalgamation of dark green and tweed clothing that she - by some miracle of the universe - managed to pull off in such a way that made her look fashionable and sophisticated - not to mention cute. The sharp look in her eyes which never fully went away despite her expression occasionally softening into one of the most compassionate faces that would ever walk the Earth.
What were they talking about?
It took everything in their power for Mizuki to greet their beloved friend, and everything in their power and more to color it to the normal shade of their interactions.
"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in!" Mizuki said, hoping their sly tone masked any sort of surprise they had upon seeing her.
"Ena!" Len exclaimed, his voice and face brightening upon laying eyes on her. Good, hopefully his unabashed purity would distract Ena enough from the fact that Mizuki was currently floundering.
"Len?" Ena said, "Mizuki? What are you doing here?"
"Mizuki is reading to me!" Len explained, "would you like to join us?"
"Yeah! It'll be fun! We're just about to get to the good part." Mizuki corroborated.
Ena smiled - kind of - but shook her head, "sorry, I'm not going to be here for long, I just needed to drop something off."
"Aw, okay," Len said, his downtrodden expression no doubt making Ena feel a pang of guilt.
"It's okay Len, she'd just slow us down!" Mizuki joked, trying to lighten the mood, "in fact, I'm sure you're a faster reader then she is! Isn't that right, Ena?"
Mizuki looked up toward her, their eyes closed and their face beaming as they awaited the return fire. Something akin to 'you're one to talk' or the classic, snappy, 'shut up.' It was the game the two of them played every time they were together, the cadence of conversation held between them. Mizuki would serve, Ena would return, and the theory of what happened afterwards was still up in the air. The two of them had gotten it down to a T at this point, so much so that Mizuki was hard-pressed to remember a time where they didn't start their conversation with that familiar rhythm. That's why it caught them so off guard when their teasing jabs were met with silence.
They opened their eyes, doing their best to not let a frown reach their face. Len was looking at them confusingly now - Mizuki's comment sort of just came across as mean without a retort from Ena. Ena herself didn't seem to be paying them much attention, fiddling around in a small bag they had brought. She must have recognized at some point that Mizuki had said something to her, because she looked up from what she was doing to address them.
"Sorry, did you say something Mizuki?"
"Uh, no! Nothing!" Mizuki laughed nervously. The brown hair girl nodded, and she turned her attention back to bag in front of her which by all accounts looked to be as deep as the Mariana Trench.
Something was off, Mizuki recognized now that they had the chance to look at her. Most notably, the characteristic sharp look in her eye was vacant, and her usual uptight posture was slouching more than usual. Mizuki might not have thought much of it, but her also not responding to their ribbing was enough to get their mind running more wild than it already was. Was she tired? Doubtful, even when that was the case she always managed to work up enough energy to tell Mizuki off. A fight with her dad? More likely, but she was pretty good about letting Mizuki know about those. It had been a while since it last happened, but Mizuki chalked that up to Ena being busier than normal, with what all that was going on in their group. Lord knows it was keeping Mizuki busy enough, and Ena was much more diligent about going to school than they were.
They were about to open their mouth to speak, to temporarily lower the ever-present caustic barrier around them to ask if everything was okay, when Len beat them to the punch.
"Ena, are you okay?" He asked.
Mizuki mentally sighed. It wasn't his fault. It certainly wasn't his fault, he had no way of knowing. No way of knowing that, at this specific moment, this particular social cue called for subtlety and nuance. It called for targeted questions, and saying unsaid things in such a way that might get Ena to open up. She wasn't the type to dump her problems on people, even at her "worst." It took heavy convincing to even get her to ask for help with something. Maybe Mizuki could have broken down the barrier, or persuaded her to at least stay a bit so they could cheer her up, but now it appeared that ship had sailed.
As if on cue, Ena's face lit up with a smile that the both of them knew wasn't convincing in the slightest.
"Of course, Len, don't worry!" She said, "I'm just tired today. Art class went long so my brain's a little scattered. Silly me, I even forgot to bring the thing I came here to drop off in the first place!"
Mizuki smiled, not letting it reach their eyes. This was usually the point where they'd poke fun at her forgetfulness, but it didn't seem appropriate at the moment. Something was definitely up, they just couldn't tell what.
Yet.
"This is probably a sign I should get to bed," Ena yawned, "I'll see you two soon!"
"Bye Ena," Len said, "I hope you sleep well. But not forever. That would be scary."
Ena raised an eyebrow in curiosity, shooting Mizuki a quick glance at the same time. The sharp look in her eyes returned for a moment, and Mizuki was about to question whether or not they were seeing ghosts, but it was gone as fast as it came, leaving them staring at a pair of eyes both unfamiliar and cold.
"Bye Mizuki," Ena said again as she began to take her phone out of her pocket.
"Hey," Mizuki called before she could press Untitled, "remind me to text you tonight. There's a limited release movie that's out for a few days I want to see. We should go together. I'll buy the popcorn."
An offer, or perhaps an olive branch. Something for Ena to grasp onto if she truly needed it. Ena was probably the most direct person Mizuki knew, but not when it came to her own emotions.
Ena grabbed the back of her head, fiddling with her braid as she searched for the right words to say.
"Yeah, sure. Just let me know when," she said, before adding, "you're not allowed to put the butter on it though, you always put a lake of it on top. Do you know how many calories that is?"
"Ha, leave it to Ena to be counting her calories.~"
"Whatever. Bye Mizuki," she said again. A curt goodbye, but a bit more characteristic. Progress, maybe.
Mizuki watched as she left, enveloped in the same curtain of white light she arrived in. The already empty Sekai somehow felt more barren as Mizuki was now left alone with Len, who nervously fidgeted with the ribbon around his neck.
"I hope Ena isn't overworking herself, she seemed tired," he said.
"Yeah, let's hope she gets some sleep." Mizuki responded.
Mizuki tried to put Ena out of their mind as they continued where they left off in the book. But as they chronicled the brave prince's harrowing journey and the long awaited kiss, Mizuki couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong and there was in fact something eating away at Ena. But what could it be? What could have her so rattled? And if there was something wrong, why wasn't she telling them about it?
What Mizuki didn't know is they weren't alone with their worries. Somewhere atop the endless stretch of gray void, a solitary figure stood watching. Watching was what they did. Watching was all they'd ever do. She resigned herself to that fate long ago. Watch. Observe. Extrapolate. Repeat. It was the best way to ensure these four kids wouldn't hurt themselves or each other. Regardless, even The Watcher can't rationalize the tell-tale signs of crisis beginning to seep into the Sekai. It's why when another figure joins her - one much more equipped to meddle - their usual reaction of disgust is suppressed to indifference.
'You feel it too," Luka said, not bothering to look at the conflicted Meiko.
"Yes."
"This could get ugly."
"Yes."
"I don't suppose you're going to interfere, are you?"
"No," Meiko reiterated, their words meant for more than just Luka, "it is not out place to."
"Mhm, we'll see!" Luka said with a laugh of undiscernible emotion, "I might join you for now. This could get interesting!"
Meiko glared at Luka, her contempt for the pink haired schemer fully re-emulsifying in her expression. She kept herself from saying anything, though, as it would have been impossible to not come across as a hypocrite.
"Don't tell Rin," Meiko said, "Miku will figure it out, but spare Rin the pain, for now." She paused, "He already knows, I'm sure."
"Hmph, it's rare for you to give directions," Luka said, "fine! In the spirit of that particular novelty, I shall keep this information from Rin. Though I have to ask, you do see it too, right?"
Meiko nodded, "It's undeniable. It's what I saw at the beginning of all of this. Ena..."
She looked back in the direction of Mizuki and Len, who were both doing their best to focus on the picture book laid out in front of them.
"...her light is gone."
The day Ena's light went out was anything but abnormal.
She woke up at a reasonable time, ate a standard breakfast, and completed the first draft of a sketch she'd been wanting to do for a while. Her Dad wasn't home, Her brother didn't give her any trouble, hell, even Yukihara's criticisms weren't as pungent as they normally were, she even managed to score a compliment on her shading technique. By all accounts, it was an uneventful, pleasant day.
The moment she closed her bedroom door, however, she began to feel it. It was subtle at first, not unlike the feeling she'd get after a particularly frustrating art session or an unruly fight with Akito or her father. A heavy, dull feeling in her chest that buried itself deeper and deeper into her body until she relieved it with sleep or tears. Why it was popping up now of all times was confusing, but she didn't think much of it. Ena knew more than anyone that brains were subject to doing stupid things at stupid times. She tried to put the feeling out of her mind as she got some homework done. It remained when she finished her math homework, and still after her History essay. The homecooked meal from her mom did little to alleviate the feeling, nor her nightly scroll of social media - though she knew that would be the case going in. Even then, Ena was doing her best not to acknowledge it. She didn't want to, doing so would make it real.
What ultimately caused her to realize something was wrong was when a scheduled alarm went off on her phone. She was sketching when it happened, but her sketchbook was replaced with a thinly lined composition notebook within seconds of the alarm ringing. Moving automatically, she flipped through the pages until she came across a neatly kept organizer she hand-drew months ago. She silenced the alarm on her phone, and carefully navigated to the far column of the table, where it said Sunday. She traced her finger to the top most row, which read Kanade.
"Sunday," she mumbled to herself, "Honami comes over Sundays, that means Kanade will eat something nutritious tonight."
Good, she wouldn't have to worry about Kanade accidently forgetting to eat again - especially since she wouldn't be able to verbally berate her in Nightcord tonight. By extension, that also meant Mafuyu would be okay, as no doubt Honami would prepare enough food for her as well. She was accounted for as well.
She moved her finger down to the last row - Amia. The box attributed to that cross-section was different then Kanade or Mafuyu, reading 'Supplemental classes day, they usually feel a bit down. Check in if you can." Despite her excellent sense of taste, Ena didn't consider herself a very good cook - she wouldn't be much help in feeding Kanade or Mafuyu. She could however, at least make sure Mizuki wasn't too bad. Satisfied, she closed the notebook and hid it in the depths of her desk. She'd be done for if Akito ever found this. She could almost hear him now, calling her a creep for tracking her friends behavior. That was untrue! Technically.
It was only after she opened Mizuki's contact that Ena stopped ignoring the nagging sensation inside her. Opening Mizuki's messages always sent a jolt of warmth through her body, even when she was in the depths. Every other message in the chat seemed to be her getting teased, but that didn't matter. Texting or talking to Mizuki always put Ena in a good mood, as did the mere thought of doing so.
So when opening up the contact made Ena feel absolutely nothing, it finally clicked in her mind.
This is not normal.
She inhaled sharply and threw the phone onto her bed with enough force such it bounced against the wall with a small thud. Wordlessly, she lifted her knees to her chest, tightly clutching them as she rocked back and forth on her desk chair. Her eyes widened and her breaths began to increase in pace. Thin beads of sweat started to form on her brow, tickling her temple as they fell. A hot burning sensation arose behind her nose, sending signals through deeply rooted neurological pathways which told her brain to do one thing. Cry.
But she couldn't.
She couldn't do anything.
"No," she managed to mumble to herself, afraid her voice would vanish after her feelings if she didn't use it, "this is all wrong."
This wasn't supposed to happen. Not anymore. She'd gotten past this after she joined Nightcord. It wasn't supposed to come back. She shouldn't feel this way. She couldn't feel this way. She was doing art again, she was enjoying art again.
Wasn't she?
Ena couldn't put the feeling into words, not really. She thought it might have been similar to what Mafuyu had been going through, but she dropped that theory pretty fast. She could still feel, and still had a desire to feel, but any and all sense of drive was gone. Without it, the rest of her body seemed to shut down, leaving behind an empty husk of a person. A listless, useless being floating through space, desperately trying to cling onto any sense of purpose or meaning. Her only solace was she'd felt like this before, way back when decided to quit art in Middle school. Not that it did much to calm her increasingly frazzled nerves.
She jolted herself back to the present. Now wasn't the time to dwell. She needed to move, to at least attempt to nullify the Feeling. She couldn't falter, not with everything going on in her life. She rummaged around her bedsheets for her phone, instinctually navigating to the folder where she kept Untitled. Within a matter of seconds she found herself surrounded by white, and then gray, as the neutral, vacant feeling of the Empty Sekai reached her body. Maybe being here would be what her brain needed to reset itself. Maybe it would leech the bad energy from her body and expel it all into the vast unknown. All Ena needed to do was sit here and let the gray void wash over her.
Unfortunately, the gray void had company, in the form of a pink-haired gremlin.
How Ena managed to conceive a lie so quickly, she'd never know. Her unconscious and conscious worked together in perfect harmony, simultaneously making her realize how uncomfortable she felt and creating a way for her to get out of it. She didn't like lying to Mizuki, it made her feel like a hypocrite given what she was asking of them, but she couldn't let them see her like this. She just couldn't. Ena didn't want them to worry about her; they had enough on their plate and there was a good chance they were already feeling down to begin with. Besides, that's not how their relationship worked. Ena worried about Mizuki, not the other way around.
What was her purpose otherwise?
She mumbled some half-baked excuse about needing to leave, and did her best to act like her normal self before she did so. She vaguely agreed to plans proposed by Mizuki, not knowing if she'd even be capable of getting out of bed when they came around. Her head was pounding at this point, and a high pitched ringing made hearing anything other than her own heartbeat a monumental task. It was almost funny, seeing Mizuki face-to-face actually did make her feel something. But it wasn't the warmth and pleasant nervousness she normally felt when she laid eyes on them, it had been replaced by a sense of dread and nausea. Not good emotions, not right now.
Before long, Ena was back in her room. It was dark out by this point, even more so by the way of thick clouds blocking the moon. The purposelessness still remained, not that she expected it to already dissipate. She was running out of options. In fact, only one really remained. She hastily scavenged up her toiletries and headed for the bathroom, refusing to let this newfound lack of motivation disrupt her nighttime hygienic habits.
Of course, she had to pass Akito in the hallway. Negating Mizuki, he was the person she was least inclined to see right now. Even her father might have been preferable, as at the very least he ignored her if she wasn't doing anything artistic. He raised and eyebrow at her as she passed, and she did her best to dodge his gaze.
"You're going to bed now?" He asked. It's a question, but also an expression in bewilderment.
"I'm tired," Ena mumbled, "get out of the way."
"Tck, I'm not in your way," he complained as she briskly passed by him. He made a sound, like he was going to continue, but no words ever came out. Ena still felt his eyes on her back as she shut the bathroom door. He's gone by the time it opens again.
She's in bed before long. Tucked under a mountain of covers which provide little solace to her cold heart. She tightly clutched a plushie to her body - the yellow cat she'd gotten years ago with Airi - and attempted to let the call of the unconsciousness wash over her.
"I'll be fine," Ena whispered, "I just need sleep."
A part of that was true. After all, even when she was feeling good, she always needed some form of sleep. However, as she began to doze off for the night, a pit in depths of her stomach made one thing abundantly clear. There was no mistaking it. It had happened again.
Her light was gone.