Archive of Our Own

As Asahina Mafuyu awoke one morning from uneasy dreams, she found herself in a hospital bed with a woman that resembled her mother hovering above her. She was laying on her back, as if she had been tied by invisible weights against the soft mattress, and when she lifted her head she could see her body covered by a thin blanket, the IV in her arm resting above it.

What has happened to me? she thought. It was no dream. The lady continued looking at the chart in her hand, and Mafuyu caught sight of her pristine white doctor’s coat and hair tied in a low ponytail, thrown over her shoulder the same way her mother did. She hadn’t noticed Mafuyu was awake, and Mafuyu continued staring without moving.

She looked around the room. It was a room with many patients, some either silent or lowly conversing with a doctor that stood beside them. There was a window by the wall furthest from the door, letting the rays of a warm sun paint the room a warm colour, as if in a dream. Her eyes could have been blurry, too, and it could explain why her mother looked as if hidden behind a curtain she could not look past.

“Ah, miss, you’re awake!” Her mother shows her a radiant smile, a warmth Mafuyu had almost forgotten she possessed. “How are you feeling?” Her mother looks at her with worry when the silence contines. Ah, had she spoken? Mafuyu could not remember what she’d been asked, and she talks again before she can utter an apology. She asks if Mafuyu can follow the light she is moving in front of her face, to which Mafuyu agrees weakly, then asks for her name, which Mafuyu gives. She must stand up and leave, she thinks. Kanade must be worried about her. She might have a clue as to why Mafuyu is in a hospital bed. Yet her mother’s worried eyes keep her tied to the bed, unlikely to do anything but remain there and answer the questions being asked to her.

“Do you have a contact we can call?”

“Mom?”

“Oh, yes, do you remember your mother’s number? We can call her.”

Mafuyu looks down at her hands. They feel normal, each finger moving at her command and her nails are sharp against her palm when she closes her fist. Her mother continues staring at her as if she were a stranger, and Mafuyu realises that she won’t see Kanade in time for dinner.

“It’s okay.” Her smile is polite, perfectly measured for the woman in front of her. In times of absurdity, one clings to the familiar. The familiar is smiling at the woman in front of her, doing nothing to arise suspicions or questions. “My mother cannot answer for me. Can I call a friend instead?”

Kanade’s smile is tired, and even if she remains sitting by Mafuyu’s side of the bed, she lacks the familiarity they’d possess before. Her hair is still long and now in a ponytail, and her gaze is heavy by eye bags which are much more defined than Mafuyu remembers them to be, signs of a carelessness that was part of Kanade as much as music was. The patients from before had gone quiet, and Mafuyu wonders if her mother will return again. She had called for Kanade, helped hold the phone in Mafuyu’s ear and pat her head gently before telling her she would return later to check on her vitals.

“You’re… Asahina Mafuyu.” Kanade’s voice remains as unchanging as the sun that brightens the room, a constant unchanged despite all. “And you say we have created a music group together, right?”

“25:00 at Nightcord.”

“Amia and Enanan… they are part of it. We aren’t called that here, at least. We sometimes make music together.”

Mafuyu supposed such. Kanade had been, after all, the one to find Mizuki and Ena. Seeing as those two came as a package, it would make sense for the three of them to find one another. She was the only anomaly, someone aware of an online music group and the real identities behind them. As surreal as her explanation had sounded to her own ears, Kanade had heard her until the end. But she hadn’t believed her. This Kanade could have the same gentle smile, yet Mafuyu saw the emptiness behind her eyes, a never ending hollow that reflected back only Mafuyu’s own face. Kanade was just playing along, a girl uncaring of the world around her if it was not about music.

“You want to save people.” Kanade’s eyes sharpen, and Mafuyu feels sixteen again, pushing the limits of a girl cursed by her own father and genius. Kanade does not know her, yet Mafuyu knows her origins. The path Kanade has walked isn’t one Mafuyu is aware of, but all she needs to get through is that she knows where those steps began, when music became shackles instead of wings. “You blame yourself for what happened to your father.”

Kanade stands up. There is anger in her eyes, but she can work with anger. All she needs is for Kanade to listen to her, to know that she isn’t a lunatic speaking rubbish. She needs Kanade to at least be by her side, even if she cannot understand her. At least a familiar warmth is better than meeting the eyes of a mother that does not know her daughter, who has no reason to make her run away.

“We were created from your guilt–” She grabs Kanade’s hand, and the already pale skin turns paler from her grip. “And I told you you’re cursing yourself. But you still kept by my side.” Kanade, for what it’s worth, does not move away, gaze confused and scared, a girl who does not know Mafuyu. “Kanade, you have to believe me.”

She has no more strength to hold unto her, and lets go. Kanade doesn’t turn around and leave, and soon her mother comes in. She checks the IV drip and notes how livelier she looks. Mafuyu’s stomach is tight, throat parched and ready to throw up what she couldn’t even remember eating. Her eyes don’t leave Kanade, and her mother asks if she’s the friend Mafuyu called.

“Yes,” answers Kanade. Her polite warmth is gone, yet her eyes continue holding Mafuyu’s gaze. Even in this life, Kanade was unwilling to let go, staring at a girl she knows nothing about and accepting to stay by her side. “Yes, I’m her friend.”

Mafuyu had always enjoyed hospitals. It was a world ran by rules easy to follow, a place where people came in for help and received it. Ever since she was young and knew what professions were, she wanted to work in a hospital. She wanted to take care of people the same way her mother took care of her, feeding her rabbit apples and staying by her side when she had a fever.

Her mother never complained about sleeping on the floor beside Mafuyu whenever she had a fever, changing her cold cloth every half an hour. When she was younger, she had a tendency to enjoy being sick, despite hating how weak she felt. Her mother was gentler when she was sick, breaking her usual rule of letting Mafuyu sleep alone and instead being by her side the entire night, singing her lullabies and spoiling Mafuyu back to health. Things changed, she thought, as she grew up. Things could rarely last, especially something like motherly care. The nicest thing a child could do for her parent was to not be a burden, nor ask for more than is needed. 

Right now, she feels thrown back in time, still laying in a bed and with her mother by her side. She calls her mother and yet this woman isn’t her mother. She’s a doctor, for one, and the small name tag in her white coat read her mother’s maiden last name. Kanade had not known her, nor did her mother. Mafuyu supposes it might do with her lack of existence in this particular time, a world where Asahina Mafuyu had not come to be. Her mother remained by her side- at the end of the day, she might not know Mafuyu but Mafuyu knew her. So did her body, she thought, judging by how she’s ready to throw up every time her mother smiles at her.

“Kanade-chan was very nice to drop by so easily. She'd just left from visiting her father earlier, too,” says her mother. She’s in her night shift, and seemed to take pity of Mafuyu being the youngest patient for overnight care and with no family in sight. “Would you not prefer to call your parents?”

“I…” She swallows the bitter feeling in her tongue, yet cannot erase the uncomfortable weight that settles on the back of her mouth. “I don’t think my parents can come.”

“I see…” She places the board in her lap, giving Mafuyu a gentle smile. “Well, Mafuyu-chan, don’t worry. You only fainted before the hospital, and your results came clean. You’re free to go tomorrow morning.”

Mafuyu nods her head. Where would she go? For the first time in her life, she was truly and utterly alone. There wasn’t a Sekai to lock herself in until she disappeared, nor a Kanade to wait for her with open arms. There wasn’t even her mother, who Mafuyu ran away from, who at least could be there. She had nothing, now. Nothing but herself and memories of a life that wasn’t hers anymore.

“I… I have no one.” Her voice is empty, yet her words taste salty, a fear that rests so deeply in her heart it makes her brain lose any proper reaction towards the truth. “I have nowhere to go. Not even Kanade is here for me. Not even–”

Mafuyu begins crying as if she were a child. She supposes she is helpless as one. As she spent time alone staring at the sun’s path until it too, left her, she had thought of all logistics of her current predicament. She would have to get out of the hospital, find a place to stay and figure out how to return to her own life. Through the Sekai was an option, yet that was only but a weak chance, for Mafuyu doubted the Sekai even existed in this world. Even if it did, who could assure her Miku would know and allow her into it? There was also the chance of finding her father and asking for his help, though she doesn’t even know where to begin searching for him. She wasn’t aware where her father was for business half the time in her world, let alone in a life where he lacks the notion of having a daughter to be tracked through.

Her only option remained Kanade or her mother, and the bitter irony wasn't lost in her. She ran away from her mother because she could not be understood, because her love became a prison Mafuyu was suffocated by, and now her mother was the only one she could cling to.

Her mother takes pity and sits in the bed by Mafuyu’s side, grasping her hand gently. She makes a wonderful doctor, thought Mafuyu, kind and patient. In this life, her hand is warm around Mafuyu’s. In this world, she’s not ushering Mafuyu to cease her crying and not upset her, nor humming underneath her breath and holding her in a hug until Mafuyu stopped crying. Mafuyu feels horrible, for betraying her mother once again for another version of her. But she can’t betray herself, she can’t betray the only source of warmth she had.

And now that source is no more.

And now Mafuyu is all alone and her mother is there, obvious to her inner turmoil.

“Mafuyu-chan, what if you come live with me for a bit?” Mafuyu stares at her mother with a fearful expression. “I don’t know how to say this without scaring you, but you feel very familiar to me. I’m a doctor, so I can take care of you if something arises. I’m mostly at work, so you would be free to have your own space if you want to come with me.” Her smile is gentle, lacking quiet persuasion that erased all options but agreement from Mafuyu. Her mother could accept her no, in this world. “What do you say?”

Irony is perhaps Mafuyu’s newest normal, for the only time she wants to truly say yes to her mother, is the only time she can accept Mafuyu’s rejection.

Her mother’s apartment is as tidy as their home. She lives in a different location, which is soothing. Mafuyu does not know how she’d fare living in an illusion of her past, similar yet different. The apartment has a lot of light, the furthest wall being glass and overlooking a small park, and behind Mafuyu her mother settles her keys and bag in a small place by the door, just as she always used to. Right next to the entrance is the kitchen, a small island in the middle illuminated by an elegant overhead light, and in front of it a table with four chairs. Mafuyu continues standing right by the entrance as if her feet had taken roots in the cold floor, only moving when her mother urges her with a smile to look around.

“It’s not that much, but you're free to look around. Do you want something to drink?”

“Um…” Mafuyu swallows. “Do you have… apple juice?”

Her mother nods. “I drink it a lot, so yes. Let me grab us both a glass.”

Her mother turns towards the fridge and Mafuyu steps closer to the living room. It’s disorienting how similar to the arrangement to their home everything is. The kitchen facing the dinner table, then separated by a flower from the living room where the couches face one of the window walls and where the TV sits in a small table. Had her father even had a hand in the design of their home, thought Mafuyu, or had it all been her mother?

“Sit down, Mafuyu-chan.” She nods and sits down, looking around. It was a warm place. Mafuyu used to love her home, how it always smelt like warm food and how it rarely was empty unless her mother had groceries to do or meetings with the association she was part of. This house lacked the warmth of a family, yet it possessed a warmth Mafuyu never associated with her mother before. Her mother slouched against the couch she sat on, sighing with a smile after drinking from her glass. She was relaxed. Had she ever seen her mother relaxed before? Or had she always been strung like the string of her bow before the arrow cut through the air? 

“I have… something to say.” Mafuyu doesn’t know what to do with a mother that doesn’t urge her to talk and tell her all. She doesn’t know what to do with a mother that is staring at her as if she wouldn’t mind if Mafuyu didn’t tell her the whole truth. “I know you might not believe me, the same way Kanade didn’t, but…”

She supposes there is no way to sugarcoat this. The light in the corner creates shadows longer than Mafuyu is, and the lights of a bustling city reflect in the glasses around them. Life continued on, even in this world. Mafuyu only hoped that her mother’s love had somehow left enough claw marks to be felt even in a world where she wasn’t her mother at all.

“I’m your daughter… mom.”

They talk until the early morning. At first her mother reflects her confusion, then pity at how she’d opened her door to a lunatic, and then as Mafuyu began talking of her family and things she could only know as her child, her mother began trusting her. It wasn’t easy, and Mafuyu is sure that her mother is only one word away from calling the police, and then Mafuyu truly hoped Kanade in this world had enough of a good relationship with her grandmother to ask for money to bail her out of jail. 

“So you simply woke up in this world?” 

“I… don’t know how. Or why. Kanade isn’t aware that I exist, either, so I’m… an anomaly in this world.”

Her mother had made them move to sit by the kitchen counter. She still liked to cook, even here, and Mafuyu felt as if she was ten again, giggling as her mother pinched her cheek and raised a spoon for Mafuyu to try her food before she served it to them. Her mother nodded as she cut the cabbage.

“In that other world… we don’t have a good relationship, do we?” Mafuyu freezes. Her mother doesn’t look at her, voice is gentle as she speaks. “I first thought you were afraid of doctors, or the hospital, or simply shy of strangers. But Mafuyu-chan, did we have a fight before you came here?”

Mafuyu nods weakly. Even now, she can barely muster the courage to talk to her mother about the truth. There wasn’t any desperation to fuel her, nor desire to protect anything. By now all she had was her mother, and Mafuyu didn’t want to think too much on the implications of that.

“I see.” Her mother raises her head and smiles sadly, her eyes meeting Mafuyu’s in understanding. “You don’t have to tell me now, but try to tell me soon, okay? I can’t help you if I don’t know everything.” 

“Yes, mo- ma’am.”

“You can call me mom, it’s okay.” She turns her back to Mafuyu to throw the cabbage in a pot with the rest of the things, her voice light. “It feels weird, but I’d rather you not force yourself. You might not be my child here, but I’m still your mother to you.”

Mafuyu feels the tightening of her stomach before the bile rises to her mouth, and her mother can't catch her eye before Mafuyu is running to the bathroom and throwing up empty bile. Her throat is parched, her mouth is dry and her hands are shaking against the sink. When she looks at her reflection, she sees a scared girl, clueless as to what to do.

There’s no reaction when she comes back, but there’s a glass of cool water by her side of the table when she sits down. Her mother, despite not knowing Mafuyu, has made sure to leave a fork and spoon by her side for the ramen, just the way Mafuyu had it easier to eat. There was the same combination on her side too, and Mafuyu stared at it for far longer than her brain needed to process the information. Her mother rarely used anything other than chopsticks and a spoon for ramen. Huh.

“We can talk as we eat,” says her mother. They rarely talked in the table. Her mom always looked slightly disapproving when they’d talk on the table, one of the only chances they as a family could talk when her father would come from work, and the only reason she wouldn’t complain much when they'd talk.

They begin eating and Mafuyu talks of Kanade and the others. She explains how she found Kanade’s music, how she contacted her and how they began making music together. For the sake of not pushing the limits of  her mother’s belief in her, she leaves out the part of the Sekai, instead confessing that one day she began making music in her own, the others found out and they met and discussed all.

Mafuyu leaves out the part of wanting to disappear, and she hates how much she sees her mother in the woman in front of her. She knows she isn’t, and yet her brain continues acting as if she is, leaving out most and only showing what she knows her mother can swallow. 

“I see. Do you enjoy making music, Mafuyu-chan?”

Her mother had never asked her that, and the notion of being asked that is so surreal she forgets how to reply. She takes another bite of her food, letting its warmth soothe her throat. Mafuyu cannot taste it, but at least it washes away the taste of bile.

“It’s warm.” She looks up once and then looks down again. Her plate is a light purple colour. Her mother’s white. Her mother is using a wooden spoon and she’s using a ceramic one. Mismatched set. Proof of a life built for one person, where another was an addition that didn’t belong. “Making music. I… I can’t let go of that. Of music.”

Her mother nods and continues eating. She too, continues, until her plate is empty. She declines another plate, but remains sitting until her mother finishes.

“Did we fight because of that?” Mafuyu finds the texture of her plate beautiful, small bows carved in its corners. “Because of… music?”

How does one begin with a truth that’s an accumulation of a thousand other confessions? Mafuyu did it once, and even then she couldn’t utter all she wanted to say. She told a part of it to her mother, and another to her father. Never the full to anyone but Kanade. 

“It’s… complicated.” Mafuyu meets her mother’s eyes. “But it has to do with it, yes.”

“I’m sorry, then,” says her mother. The words return the bile in the back of her throat. “That we fought over something warm you can’t let go of.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. Blood coats her thumb, the skin against her nail scratched raw. The air is heavy with words left unsaid, and words her mother cannot understand yet truly means despite all.

“I’m sorry too, mom.” She does not know why she apologises, but nor does the woman in front of her. Just as in her life, they both look away and move on, lacking understanding of one another.

When she wakes up, her mother is gone. Mafuyu begins her daily routine, surprised to find breakfast on the table with a small note next to it. Her mother had left some money next to the food and told her to use it for anything she might need, and to call her in the phone number she wrote at the end of the note.

After tidying the guest room and leaving it as if she had never been there, Mafuyu begins with the rest of the house. She eats breakfast and washes the dishes, realising the trash were in time to be thrown. The trashcans had been next to the entrance wall, she remembered. Mafuyu grabs the trashbag, keys and leaves. 

As she waits for the elevator, another door opens in the floor and she freezes when she hears a familiar loud voice cuss out someone. Light footsteps walk towards her, and as if in slow motion, she raises her head. Shinonome Ena stands beside her, and Mafuyu wonders just what kind of luck she had to have that her mother lived in the same building as her friend. Unlike in her world, she dresses more casually, and her hair was much longer. This wasn't her Ena, but she seemed to have the same reflexes, for she turns her head and stares at her in confusion.

“Are you… okay?”

“Ena.”

“Huh? You know me?”

She does, Mafuyu thought. She knew Ena, but the girl in front of her wasn’t Ena. She didn’t know Mafuyu, either. A familiar reflection, that was all she was. But Mafuyu had already spoken and the elevator arrives when she opens her mouth. They both get in it, and Mafuyu looks at her again.

“You’re an artist, aren’t you? I’ve seen your art online.”

Ena’s expression sharpens in a way Mafuyu had forgotten was possible. Just how much had her lack of existence changed in this world? Her mother was more lax, Kanade seemed uncaring and distrustful, and Ena being recognised as an artist made her look as if Mafuyu had called her a horse and meant it.

“What the hell do you mean online? I don’t post online anymore.”

Mafuyu blinks and the moment is gone, Ena throwing her a last dirty look before the elevator doors open. It feels like if she lets her go now, she might never get her back. Kanade hadn’t replied to her text despite Mafuyu texting her at 1 am and still remembering her number, and now all Mafuyu could do was hope to find her friends and that a miracle could happen.

The trashbag makes a soft thud as it falls on the ground, her own hand reaching to grab Ena’s. Ena looks at her like she is crazy, and perhaps she is for looking for someone that doesn’t exist in someone that is essentially a stranger to her.

“You always wanted to do art because of your father.” Ena tries pulling her wrist away, yet Mafuyu holds on. “But he didn’t support you, and told you to give up. You post on social media but you hate your selfies get more attention than your art.” Perhaps it’s the desperation in her voice that has frozen Ena, or it’s the speed of how she confesses all her thoughts. “You wanted to disappear, just like me.”

Those words seem to cut through Ena, who only pushes her away. There’s a fearful look in her face, as if Mafuyu hadn’t spoken the truth but stabbed her until she was bleeding out to death. 

“I don’t know what kind of stalker are you, but leave me the fuck alone, okay? I don’t even know who the hell you are. Stay away before I call the police!”

Ena runs away and Mafuyu is left standing in the entrance of the building with the trash beside her. She’d never found an issue with how blunt she was with Ena. Ena, despite her complaining, respected that Mafuyu didn’t hold back or soften her blows. It seems the notion didn’t carry to this world.

She sighs and looks up, to the white ceiling and its warm lights. She had to think of something, or she’d be stuck living in a world that considered her an anomaly until she truly disappeared. And this time, there would be no one to make her stay.

K: what did you say to enanan? she was livid and accused me of ratting her out to a stranger.

Mafuyu turns her phone face down after she reads the message, continuing to eat dinner with her mother. The older woman had been surprised when she’d found Mafuyu making dinner, then smiled and continued to settle down for the day. She’d chastised Mafuyu for doing it all alone, and told her to not apologise as if she’d made a mistake, but that simply they could have done it together.

Mafuyu doesn’t know what to do with a mother that didn’t ask for an apology back. Kanade finally replied to her, Ena was probably on her way to ask for a restraining order and she still had no idea what to do with Mizuki. A part of her hoped Mizuki would be the one to believe her easiest, yet she remembered their empty gaze that day at the Sekai, and their pained smile as they advised Mafuyu to run away– it was a fickle hope to think they’d believe her and not think she was crazy or a stalker.

“What did you do today, Mafuyu-chan?”

“Not much,” she answers softly. Their dynamic was one she wasn’t used to, but it was easier to handle than anything else. Her mother was caring and had believed her despite how crazy everything had sounded. “I met another friend of mine, Ena.”

“Ena…” Her mother brightens up. “Do you mean Shinsei’s daughter?”

“Eh?”

“Ena-chan is such a nice girl. She’s our neighbour, did you know? She and her family live next to us.”

Mafuyu blinks. First her mother found Kanade nice, and now apparently she was neighbours and got along with Ena and her father. What was next, she thought, her mother knew Mizuki? She had already been dumbstruck at Kanade and her mother getting along, friends due to her mother being her father’s doctor. This world only continued to drive her from one sharp curve to another, thrown around like a ragdoll with its destination towards hell.

The bell rings then, and her mother stands up with a smile. She hears the door open and footsteps, two gentle voices filling the halls until–

“You!” Ena pointed a finger at her, eyes wide. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“Language,” replies her mother, as if already used to Ena’s often times foul tongue. “What did we say about using bad words here?”

“Sorry…” That was it, Mafuyu thought, the end of the world. Her mother and Ena getting along. She would laugh if the shock hadn’t frozen all receptors that connected her mouth to her brain. Her mother grabbed another plate from the counter, her hand gentle as she pushed Ena to sit at the table. “But what the hell is she doing here? She–”

“What if we sit down and eat first? Mafuyu-chan will explain her side of the story, and I’ll help her too.” Her mother still possessed the ability to make someone do as told, even if now it didn’t make her freeze as much as it soothed her. Ena seemed to respect her mother, so at least she’d hear Mafuyu out. They all sat at the table as her mother filled Ena’s plate, idly asking about her day and how her mother was. Huh. It seemed this was a regular occurrence, Ena smiling and replying with ease.

“Ena-chan often visits this poor lady to keep her company,” explains her mother. Mafuyu notices her familiar teasing tone, one that would often make Mafuyu reassure her for whatever she’d said. This time she doesn’t, nor does Ena, who only giggles as she takes a bite of her ramen, slurping loudly. That hadn’t changed at all, thought Mafuyu. “I used to help her with her studies, and I guess I’m not such bad company even after, huh?”

“You’re much better than that guy, that’s for sure,” mutters Ena. So she still didn’t have a good relationship with her father. “He saw me the other day sketching– sketching on my phone and started going all about how useless it is and–” She pauses midway, as if remembering Mafuyu was there. Her mother smiles with her eyes closed, amused at the red blush in Ena’s cheeks and how she stuffs more food into her mouth. Mafuyu gazes as she’d gaze at her aquarium, things happening outside of her control and where all she can do is watch from afar. “Why is she here again?”

Her mother settles her spoon down, dragging a hand through her ponytail and placing her hands in the table. The same pose, the same way of beginning a serious conversation. When she meets Ena’s eyes, even Mafuyu has no choice but to listen in silence, frozen as if from Medusa’s stare. 

“Mafuyu-chan is my daughter, and your friend too, Ena-chan.”

Ena does not stop pacing in front of them. They had moved to the couch, and the only reason Ena wasn’t screaming was because her mother had sounded serious enough that Ena would probably believe her even if she said she had wings and could fly. That was the convincing power of a doctor, Mafuyu thought. Or maybe just an ability her mother had no matter the world she was in.

“So you’re telling me you’re from another world, and not only in this world do we have a music group together but–” She points to her mother, who is now sipping on a warm glass of tea. Mafuyu’s had already turned cold, and Ena hadn’t accepted to drink. “- She doesn’t have a good relationship with us? She’s literally the only reason I haven’t thrown my–”

Ena cuts herself off. Mafuyu’s eyes trace her footsteps until she falls on the other couch. Despite all, Ena still stayed. Mafuyu admired that. Another world and Ena still choose to face the hard truth face on.

“Do you believe her?”

Her mother is the face of peacefulness as she nods. “Mafuyu-chan does look like a carbon copy of me, and she often…” Her smile takes a sad edge, eyes downcast to the tea in her hands. “She sometimes reminds me of the man I nearly married in the past. They both have a similar way of speaking.”

Mafuyu freezes. Oh, so she doesn’t exist in this world because… her mother didn’t marry her father? And now she was a doctor. And also apparently Ena’s support? Ena continues speaking about how unbelievable everything was as if through cotton, her voice muffled. Mafuyu only notices her hands shaking when something warm drenches her pants, and two quick hands grasp her glass and put it on the table.

Her mother instructs Ena to grab a towel, and Mafuyu only hears her footsteps before raising her head. Blue eyes meet hers, worried and soothing. How long had it been since staring into her mother’s eyes wasn’t a feat that took courage and putting on a mask? Being so close to her now blurred the lines of the self she did not know and the self she had to pretend to be until all that remained was a lost child who still clung to her mother’s hands.

“It’s okay,” her mother whispers, nodding with a smile towards Ena as she grabs the towel and wipes Mafuyu’s thighs gently from the hot tea. “It’s going to be okay.”

Mafuyu can only nod in silence, at a state of wanting to believe something she was sure her mother had no idea of knowing.

She’s putting a new pair of pants when the door of the guest room opens and Ena enters. She doesn’t meet Mafuyu’s eyes, closes the door and leans her back against it. There is a lack of light in the room beside a small bed side lamp that illuminates Ena’s shape and nothing else. Mafuyu remains silent, because she might not know this Ena but she looks just like her Ena does when she is thinking of something to say.

“I’m not an artist, in this world.” Her voice is small, quiet. “I tried desperately, but no matter what I could never draw something I was happy with. K only contacted me after I tried something with one of her songs. We don’t talk expect when she contacts Amia and I for an illustration. And even then it’s just so that her song uploads don’t look sketchy.” So that’s how it was. Mafuyu wonders if she was the only reason they all had connected, even if it felt egoistical in a way. “Your mother– huh, that feels weird to say. She’s the only reason I still can do even that. She found me one night throwing away all my paints and crying. She…” 

Ena swallows and Mafuyu remains rooted to her spot. She knew Ena didn’t want comfort, nor a kind word. She needed to be heard, and Mafuyu was more than good enough at that.

“She said she would hold unto them, because she said I shouldn’t run away from what’s painful.” Mafuyu feels her throat tighten. Hadn’t she said that to– “That I’d regret it if I did. So she would hold unto my paints until I was ready to face my art again.”

The same words she’d thrown at Mafuyu through tears had been the same words that had saved Ena that day. Mafuyu sits on the bed, staring at the carpet. That explained the rolls of paint and canvas in the corner of the guest room. Her mother hadn’t had a secret passion– she was holding unto Ena’s things for her.

“I don’t know why she’s… I can see she probably hurt you, in your world. But she’s not like that here, at least.” Ena walks towards the corner where her things are. “She was there for me when no one else was. She knew I wasn’t that good at art, but still trusted that I would return to it.” A laugh escapes her lips, her hand tracing the empty canvas. “I guess that’s what you did for me in that world, huh?”

“K did,” she manages to say out loud, voice breaking and she coughs to steady it. “K and Amia. K found you and Amia did a video of your art.”

“Same as in this world, I suppose.” Ena doesn’t look at her, continues speaking to the canvas. “But in that world we are friends, and in this world we know nothing much of each other. The only difference is your existence. Which means it was you that helped me not give up.”

“I told you I… wanted to disappear,” she confesses. Ena’s hand freezes. “That you did too, and it was stupid for you to try and stop me. But… you couldn’t let go of me, that day. Even if you hated me, even if I pushed you away, you… came back.” A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips, staring at her hands and counting silently by tapping her thumb to each finger. “We had a big fight. But I suppose it… brought us all together. You all wanted to save me, even if you were just as lost as I was.”

Silence hovers over them. Ena’s hand falls by her side but she doesn’t turn to her yet. Mafuyu gives her time, sitting on the bed. 

“Am I… happy? In that other world?”

Flashes pass through her mind. Ena’s gentle smile as she painted, how she’d teach Rin and the others how to draw. Ena’s smile when she and Mizuki would discuss the latest trends, Ena’s shy giggle whenever Kanade would praise her art, how she’d huff and puff but still send her a warm smile when Mafuyu would be blunt with her opinions. She remembers Ena’s long shadow, her steely gaze as she’d stare at her father’s paintings, unyielding before what used to scare her. 

Perhaps she’d gone through more hardship than in this life. Perhaps now she was enjoying a life that didn’t possess the stress of her other one. Mafuyu looks at her back, curled in itself and as if afraid to look into Mafuyu’s eyes to hear the answer. Ena was afraid as much as she wanted to know the truth, as if it would change her the same way it had in that life. What worth was a life lived in fear of the what ifs?

“You’re… living a life that suits you. A path you chose yourself.” She doesn’t know what else to tell her but the truth. “You decided to become an artist worthy of portraying our songs despite everything.”

“I see.” Mafuyu only realises then that it wasn’t that Ena was curling in herself– she was shaking. Ah. She was crying, gently and silently, a weakness she could not show Mafuyu. 

"At least I'm truly happy in one life at least."

Ena leaves after that. Mafuyu and her mother stand in the corridor after, both thoughtful and clueless as to what to do. It’s her mother that moves first, smiling and saying she’d wash the dishes and Mafuyu could rest for a bit. Mafuyu walks by the window wall until her mother joins her side again.

“Do we live in a similar place in that world?”

“Not really.” A safe and well-developed neighbourhood, but nothing like this, Mafuyu wanted to say. “We live in a quieter neighbourhood. Less windows. Though you always make sure to let the light in with curtains open when it’s morning.”

“Some things never change,” replies her mother. She’s staring at the view, giving Mafuyu the privilege of privacy. The city of Tokyo continues beyond their sights, lives that continue and perhaps remain unchanged whether or not Mafuyu exists. Mafuyu wondered if she could go back to the way things were, if perhaps she would wake up and all would be normal again. "It's good for fresh air to fill the house."

Her mother doesn’t speak much in this world. Mafuyu would miss this, she selfishly thinks. Her mother who doesn’t make coldness seep into her heart, who isn’t denying Mafuyu the only thing that makes her happy, who stays by her side in silence and watches the view with her. It was the warmth of a mother that she felt only in the past doused by the red of nostalgia.

“You… you told me I can’t do music.” Her mother looks at her, but Mafuyu focuses on their reflections. It almost feels like she’s back home, yet there is no fear of her mother bursting into tears at Mafuyu’s truth. “That you knew what’s best for me, and that it wasn’t music. And you–” The words stick to her mouth like gum, barely finding the strength to be uttered out loud. Even now, she has no courage to say what truly happened. “I ran away from home. And… And I’m living with Kanade, in that world. Dad comes to visit me sometimes.”

Silence falls over them. Her nails dig in the skin of her palm, shaking to do anything but look away from the glass. She can’t tell what her mother is thinking, nor can she predict what she will say. 

“I suppose we haven’t talked since that day?”

Her voice is gentle, as if talking to a wounded animal. Mafuyu nods. Her mother hums and continues staring outside. When she dares look up, she finds the profile of her mother striking in the shadows and lights created by the view outside. She doesn’t look sad, but nor does she look surprised at what Mafuyu had told her.

“It doesn’t seem easy to be you now, does it? Talking to a mother that you hate.”

“I don’t hate you!” It’s almost instinct, and her own mother is shocked by how Mafuyu turns around, grasping at her arm. She doesn’t know the look in her face, though she can see the fear in her reflection. “Mom, I don’t hate you, I–”

“But do you love me, Mafuyu-chan?”

She tries saying the words, and yet they are stuck to the back of her teeth. Her tongue flaps aimlessly, an instrument that doesn’t know how to be played. There’s something her mother must see in her eyes, for her smile tightens in sadness and gentle arms wrap around her. Just how long had Mafuyu gone without hugging her mother and not feeling the shackles of guilt, of fear? When was the last time she’d heard her mother’s heartbeat and felt ease and not a lack of ability to breathe?

Her mother is warm and her hug is loose, easy for Mafuyu to push her away and leave. But Mafuyu cannot push her away and she hugs her slowly, arms settling behind her back. Even in this world, her mother still has the same scent, the same warmth to her body.

“A mother isn’t supposed to hurt her child,” murmurs her mother. “And when she does, she should apologise. Mothers are human, Mafuyu-chan, but it doesn’t mean you should forgive and soothe all of the repercussions of their mistakes.” Mafuyu cannot breathe. It's the same lack of breathing as that day when Ena painted her, the same lack of breath as when Kanade hugged her in the rain. “It’s okay that you can’t say you love your mom. You’re hurt, and you need time to heal. I don’t want you to love me because I’m your mother, but because I’m someone that you want to love.”

Her mother’s words are a lullaby that make Mafuyu tear up, and she rests her forehead against her mother ‘s shoulders, hands clinging to the loose shirt on her back. “I cannot talk of what the me in that world is thinking, and I haven’t gone through what she may have, but I know that even if I were your mother, I’d never want you to love me simply because you feel that you must. Okay?”

Maybe it’s all she’s gone through the past two days, or maybe it’s the soothing tone of her mother’s voice which make Mafuyu nod her head. She bites her lip until the salt of her tears make her bloody lip ache. Mafuyu urges herself to not make much noise as she cries, and her mother holds her through the tears.

The next morning, she wakes up to a dry mouth and the sun shining through her closed blinds. She begins her daily process, and soon ends up standing in the middle of the living room with nothing to do. She’d replied to Kanade and had gotten no reply yet, but she knew her message had been seen. There was no way to contact Ena without going to knock at her door, and Mizuki’s Amia account didn’t have the same name as in her world, so there was little she could do but sit down on the couch and wait for her mother to be back.

Her phone rings then, an unfamiliar number, and she opens it.

“Hello…?”

“Ya-ho! Are you Asahina Mafuyu?” Mafuyu freezes. “I had to force K to give me your number since Enanan didn’t have it, and I thought I’d contact you myself first. So, you apparently know all about us, huh?”

Akiyama Mizuki. The fourth piece of the puzzle, finally entering the stage.

There are scarce people around the lake when she arrives. The sun shines brightly high in the sky, letting the grass be dry and easy to tread through the trees and branches fallen on the ground. It doesn’t take much to find Mizuki, who sits by the lake. The first thing she notices is their short hair and the way their clothes lack the usual hot pink, settling upon a white, long jacket and wide, light pink pants. They stare at the lake without paying much mind to the world around them, a fishing rod in their hands. It feels as if she has the wrong person, but a branch breaks loudly under her feet and familiar pink orbs turn to her, a smile appearing in their lips as Mizuki finds her.

“Mafuyu, right?” Their voice is friendly. Mafuyu nods her head, half bowing. “Come, sit, sit! I found us two chairs and got you an extra rod.”

Mafuyu, thankfully, has seen enough documentaries to know how fishing works. She sits next to Mizuki and finds there’s already a small fish by the hook. One, two, three, she counts in her head, the hook soaring through the sky and falling beside Mizuki’s. It’s silent again after that. She’s not used to such awkward silences with Mizuki. More often than not they're acting as a podcast for her as she does her homework or works in the songs of their group, and to have a Mizuki that’s so silent is… 

“First time fishing?”

She nods. Mizuki whistles, impressed. “And that good too, huh? Interesting, interesting!”

Both fall in silence again. This time, it’s Mafuyu that breaks it.

“Your hair…” She doesn’t need to have glasses to see the way Mizuki flinches, hands tightening in their rod. “It’s… short.”

“Shouldn’t it be?” 

“It’s been long for as long as I’ve known you. In person, at least.”

Mizuki hums lightly, continuing to look towards the lake. The reflection is brilliant, nearly blinding her. Mafuyu wishes she had some dark glasses. The view must be mesmerising and all she can do is look in the ground, at how close their feet are and how the distance seems much wider than it is. In a way, that’s the only thing she wishes to see. Maybe Mizuki might understand her the same way they did back then, eyes warm like the sun behind them, giving her a chance that she’d never had as an option.

“What are we like, back in your world?”

“Friends.” It’s a simple answer, one word, but it carries all the weight Mafuyu wants it to. She’s their lyricist, and she knows the value of simple words carrying a message not a thousand words could carry. “We’re good friends.”

“Do you know the truth, then? My secret?”

Mafuyu looks up. Mizuki is staring at her, eyes sharp and smile placid, a person Mafuyu cannot read. They don’t have a body language that reveals all like Ena, nor Kanade’s mirror of the soul eyes. They’re the biggest mystery in their group, big laughter hiding a soft inner self that only came from a pain experienced deep in the soul. If she was hard to read because she had yet to learn the words that made up Asahina Mafuyu, Akiyama Mizuki wrote themselves in a secret code, easy to read if only the chance was given. They kept that chance hidden like a key, a two way mirror where you rarely got glimpses of the other side.

“I don’t.” Mizuki chuckles and looks away. “But…”

She thinks of the smile in their face as they’d walk side by side, making Mafuyu try ten different hair ties before settling with her current one. Mafuyu can almost draw the gentleness in their eyes when Ena would fall asleep in the Sekai, how they’d bring a blanket and then not say it was them that covered her. How they made sure Kanade could come out for a walk from time to time with the excuse of meeting up for eating out. There was something that they hid, a secret that made them radiate warmth from afar, but–

“But I know who you are.” Mizuki stills, hand pulling the rod pausing its movement. “You’re my friend. Akiyama Mizuki was the one to reached out to me and told me it was okay to run away- that I’d be okay as long as I did it for the sake of protecting my true self. You told me that. I… I might not know what you’re hiding, but that doesn’t change what we are. That you’re my friend.”

“Friend, huh?” There’s a slight breaking in Mizuki’s voice, and Mafuyu looks away before she notices the shiny glint in their eyes. “I was the one that told you all that?”

“You were.”

“Wasn’t I… afraid?”

“I don’t know. But your words saved me. And I…” She swallows, licking her dry lips. “I never thanked you for that. I will when we meet again, but…” 

Before them, Mount Fuji stands tall and proud, a view thousands before them have seen and thousands after them will see. They are fickle creatures who will probably be forgotten in three generations. Yet they sit there side by side, two strangers bearing their hearts open to one another. They might be a grain in the universe, but this grain is their universe, all they will ever know. This was all they had. This one chance to make things right and true.

“I want you to know that I wish you can protect who you are the same way. I’ll…” She smiles, a small smile that held all the warmth of her heart. “We’ll always be here for you. That we will be the people by your side.”

This time, she does not look away. Mizuki’s tears fall slowly, silently. They don’t sob like Ena, but they seem to have the same lightness to them as she did. She lets them cry, staring at the lake that shone as bright as their smile.

“You know, Mafuyu,” they begin. Their voice is happy, relieved. “I’m sure there’s not much I can do to help you return. But I hope you get to tell the me that’s your friend these things soon. Who knows–” they continue with a smile. “Maybe it’s all they need to hear to be able to consider themselves as if they belong by your side.”

When she returns that night, her mother is already home, the sound of cooking echoing through the house. It’s familiar, and her greeting escapes from her lips before she can process it.

“Ah, Mafuyu-chan, welcome back!” Her mother is smiling when she enters the kitchen. The aroma of warm food fills the house, and Mafuyu stands there with a polite smile. “Dinner will be ready soon!”

“I’ll set the table, mom,” she says, reaching for the plates and utensils as if second nature. “Thank you for cooking tonight.” 

“How was your time with your friend? Akiyama-san, right?” The question holds no malice, nor a silent request for all information about it. The security in that fact surprise her, slowing down her movements until she remains standing by the table clutching at the spoons.

“Mizuki was the one who told me to run away. From home.” Her admission is soft, and she almost thinks her mother hasn’t heard her before gentle footsteps come behind her. Her mother holds a plate filled with red meat, cut thinly and doused in spices and oils. A meal that was good for people with low iron. Had her mother paid that much attention to her analysis results?

“I… I felt lost.” She doesn’t look away from her reflection in the spoon, despite her mother continuing to put their dinner on the table. “They suggested I… I protect what’s important to me.”

Her mother settles down, and she does too. They remain silent, staring at the food until the sigh of her mother cuts through the silence like a knife.

“I ran away, too.” Mafuyu’s head snaps to her mother, eyes wide. There’s a small smile in her face. Was her mother… nervous? “I didn’t tell you the whole truth, and I’m sorry. Your father in your world was the man I was set to marry. I loved him but…”

Her mother can’t seem to speak with ease. She can’t look at Mafuyu in the eye, and even her hair is down. It feels almost like most dinners before she ran away, when her dad would be at work again and her mother tried smiling as they ate together, a third plate going cold. It’s disorienting and frustrating, two different people merged in one where it was impossible to tell who was the true one.

Was this woman the true person her mother was inside, or was her own mother the true woman in front of her?

“My parents didn’t want me to go to medical school,” her mother says. “They thought that it was too hard, considering how long it would take to finish it. They loved me as any parent does but…” Her voice lowers, as if she too was still a kid afraid to speak against their parent. “There wasn’t much support to chase after my dream, or grow my ambitions. For them, a good life was a simple one. And then I met the man that seems to be your father and he…”

“Did he… do something?”

“He was kind. I knew that if I married him I’d live a good life and have a daughter as beautiful as you. But I’d sacrifice who I was, and what I truly wanted.” Her mother is gentle, despite the painful topic. “I’ll give you an advice as your mother. When there are two paths to take, always pick the one you want. It might be hard, and it might hurt, but at least it would have been you who chose it. You won’t live with regrets.”

Mafuyu has nothing to say at her mother. Her mother takes the first bite of dinner and doesn’t speak after that. The shadows are long in their house, reaching their table. For a moment, all felt peaceful, frozen in time and a memory that could live beyond them. She raises the spoon up to her lips and watches as it falls to the plate, sauce splattering and meat falling on the ground. Her mother isn’t mad, asking if Mafuyu is okay as she stands up to help her clean up. Mafuyu can only stare at her plate, at the red meat cooked with care and ready to be eaten. Meat bought by a woman who was her mother and yet wasn’t, a woman who was living a life by herself, who knew what she wanted and went for it.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” she mutters weakly, repeating it as a mantra as she stands up. Her mother looks up, confused, grasping her spoon and cleaning the sauce on the floor. Mafuyu cannot look at her for much longer, blue eyes warm and filled with worry. She turns around, unresponsive to her mother calling her name and goes to the hallway.

There are three pairs of shoes out. Her mother’s work shoes and the one she wore when she’d go out for anything outside of work time. Her own pair remained tucked to the side, separated by a thin invisible line.

This wasn’t her life. She was an anomaly here.

“Mafuyu?” 

Her mother’s voice is weak, confused. Mafuyu cannot turn around. She knows if she turns around all will be lost. Reality will come crashing down and there won’t be anything left to fix it. If she turns around, she will realise the truth hanging above her as an anvil, ready to fall in her head at any moment. This wasn’t her life. She was an extra, someone that didn’t belong. This woman wasn’t her mother, and that’s not what scares Mafuyu.

“I’m sorry.” 

She puts her shoes on slowly. Her mother doesn’t reach out, doesn’t beg with tears for her not to go, doesn’t scream her name. She only stands there. Mafuyu cannot turn around. If she does, her mother won’t be the only person she loses.

“I’m sorry.”

The door opens easily, and that’s when she breaks in a run, ignoring the faint calling of her name. This wasn’t her life. She was just an extra weight, someone that did not belong. Her mother– no, that woman, had made her choices, had chosen to not become her mother and live a life she was proud of. A life that was hers, that she had chosen and had stood by despite going against what was easiest. The potential of such a life scared her, that there was a part of her mother that could want a life where Mafuyu hadn't existed. 

In this life, Mafuyu did not belong. In this life, her mother was happier.

In this life, thought Mafuyu as her calves burned and her eyes ached from unshed tears, her mother was living the life Mafuyu was too much of a clueless coward to know how to live. 

And it was all, at its core, because of Mafuyu's very own existence.

“Mafuyu…?”

Kanade’s voice is laced with confusion, unaware as to why Mafuyu was standing at her doorstep, panting and wet with tears and sweat. She doesn’t open the door for Mafuyu to walk in, nor does her smile widen and soften at the sight of her. This Kanade isn’t the one she knows, just as that woman isn’t her mother. For the first time in a long while, Mafuyu is utterly alone.

“I…” She licks her lips, throat parched. “I had nowhere else to go.”

Kanade doesn’t ask what she mean but she does opens the door wider to let Mafuyu in. She steps inside, her feet doused in the darkness of the hallway. Kanade leads her towards the kitchen, a single light turned on, enough for Kanade to navigate towards the fridge and pull out a small water bottle. Mafuyu drinks greedily when she takes it, almost forgetting to breathe. When she focuses, she finds Kanade by the other corner of the room, gazing at her calmly.

“How did you know where I lived?”

“We live together,” she replies. Kanade’s eyes widen. “You… you let me live here. When I ran away from home.”

Silence falls on them like a heavy blanket, making the air stuffy and hard to breathe. Mafuyu doesn’t know what to say, her mind and heart empty, and Kanade doesn’t do any better, clueless on where to begin. It was easier to talk to Ena and despite Mizuki’s aloofness, they had heard her through all she shared with them. Kanade was a wild card Mafuyu had no idea what to do. Even in her world, there were times she didn't understand why Kanade was the way she was. She was bright and warm like the sun, and just like at the lake, Mafuyu has trouble seeing eye to eye with her.

In this world it’s much worse, Kanade looking like a hollow shadow of her self, a sharpness to her which Mafuyu hadn’t been the recipient of before. Had her lack of existence had this much effect on Kanade? Had her existence have had such an effect on everyone around her?

“Have I saved anyone?” Her question lacks Ena’s fear, nor Mizuki’s confidence at expecting the answer they think she will give. Kanade is blunt, curious in a wary way. Mafuyu finds she cannot lie to her.

Had Kanade saved her? Ena had said she had, and Mizuki once admitted the same. What about Mafuyu? Could she call what Kanade did for her saving? Kanade said she would not stop until Mafuyu could truly find the self she had lost. She had yet to find that. Mafuyu remained lost, even if there was now something she wanted to protect and wanted to do. Could that be called being saved?

“Amia and Enanan,” she settles upon saying voice closer to a whisper than not.  “Both have said you saved them. Your music reached their hearts.”

“And others?”

“We have consistent fans. Most of them would agree.”

“I see.” Kanade smiles, even if there’s not much strength to it. “Similar to how it is now, then. Beside Amia and Enanan.”

She's disappointed, thought Mafuyu. Kanade doesn’t meet her eyes, staring at the half empty bottle Mafuyu placed at the table. She wasn’t happy despite knowing she had made an impact in people’s lives. Mafuyu paused. Ena had said the only difference between these two worlds was her existence. Had Kanade expected her to say something else?

“Kanade.” The girl looks up again, waiting. Mafuyu is the one to look away then, hand resting against her bottle. There was still half left for her to drink. There was still Kanade before her, even if different. As long as Mafuyu continued holding to the hand Kanade gave her, Kanade would never be gone. “You know what a brace is in music, right?”

“The tie between two notes that should be played together.” Kanade answers but doesn’t question why. Her Kanade would ask why, would show genuine curiosity towards what seemed to be Mafuyu’s thoughts. Kanade here is more patient, or perhaps uncaring to ask for more than she receives. 

“I wanted to disappear. That’s the difference between this world and mine.” The statement is confusing even to her, let alone a girl that has no idea what Mafuyu is saying. “In this world, I don’t exist. You're cursed by a father that loved you, but no one to share that curse with. Wanting to save me… that’s your brace.” Kanade’s gaze is unyielding, frozen in Mafuyu’s. “I am the note that’s missing. You tied yourself to me the day you promised to never stop making music until you saved me.”

Kanade remains silent. When she moves, Mafuyu follows her. Kanade doesn’t question it, nor when Mafuyu grabs a chair and throws the ramen cups on it on the floor, rolling it to sit by Kanade’s side before the synthesizer. No one makes to raise their hands first.

“From what did I want to save you?”

From the same fate that has fallen my mother, Mafuyu thought. The path where her mother doesn't run away and ends up having Mafuyu. From lacking a path to fight for, something to want to protect. From–

“From the cold,” she says. “From the coldness of disappearing.”

This time, she makes the first move. It’s not Kanade asking her if she wants to play the piano with her, nor Kanade’s warm smile urging her to. This time, Mafuyu raises the heavy weight of her hands and places them against the white and black keys before them. The first note is familiar, and hardest. Then she plays another, and another.

“Just like this, you reached your hand out to me.” Kanade doesn’t reach out yet, letting Mafuyu play. There are notes she can’t play alone, a side she cannot reach unless Kanade joins her. The song is incomplete unless Kanade decides to grasp at her hand. “I… I’m not saved yet. I still don’t know who I truly am, or what I want to do for my future.”

She remembers the first time she heard this song, how it felt as if the world paused for a moment. Caesura . A pause where time cannot be counted. That’s what Kanade was for her. What Kanade still is. A pause where the world can stop spinning Mafuyu in it, a pause where she can feel as if her life isn’t running away from her. A pause where she's safe.

“But I know that I can’t let go of music. That I can’t let go of Ena, or Mizuki, or even the group. I used to think I had nothing and no one left. It’s not the same anymore.” Mafuyu pauses. Maybe she’s pushing the limits of the space Kanade is granting her, and maybe she will end up ruining more than she is helping, yet she reaches out to Kanade.

Her hand is still warm in her grasp. Kanade meets her eyes, and suddenly it doesn’t matter where she is. Kanade’s warmth will always remain the same.

“I told you we were created because of your guilt.That’s not the full truth. We came together because of hope. We cling to it like fools–” She moves their hands, rests them intertwined against the keys. “But that’s our choice. The path we all choose. You made that possible for us, Kanade. For me. You inspired me to hold unto hope.”

Something shines in Kanade’s eyes. Mafuyu cannot look away. She presses some keys with her other hand, as if in a daze, Kanade raises her other and begins playing. Mafuyu had heard all of the songs K had posted in this world– this was the song that had no reason to exist. This was the song that found a lost soul and saved her when all else had forsaken her. This was the song that Asahina Mafuyu and Yoisaki Kanade composed together before they even held hands and promised to one another a path whose end wasn’t apparent.

Mafuyu still had no idea what she wanted to do with her future. She had no idea what she liked and didn’t like, nor had she made any real progress with her mother. None of that mattered now. Kanade played the piano with her, two hands in harmony and to others laced until their fingers turned white. They’d found each other, despite all odds and all that was different.

Mafuyu could learn to live with that.

When she and Kanade exit her building side by side, Mafuyu meets the eyes of the woman that could have been her mother. She’s sweating, yet she stands tall and proud, hiding any trace of nervousness or disapproval at her escape. 

“I told her you were here, before.” Kanade smiles apologetically. “She seemed worried in text. I hope that wasn’t an issue. You two seemed…”

She doesn’t need to finish her words for Mafuyu to understand what she means. Mafuyu nods her head and Kanade sighs, relieved. “I will go now. Mafuyu?”

“Mhm?”

A warm hand clasps hers. Mafuyu doesn’t miss the woman’s eyes trained on the handhold, Kanade’s fingers gentle against Mafuyu’s palm.

“I hope that your Kanade knows that… I’m glad you exist.” Mafuyu blinks twice, surprised at the words. “I hope that you two get to reunite soon and you…” She shakes her head, smiling, as if saying something foolish. “No, I’m sure you already have changed her life the same way you did mine. So, thank you.”

Kanade lets go of her hand and turns to leave. But there’s something Mafuyu wants to tell her, something that she hopes this Kanade will hold unto even after she’s gone.

“Kanade!” Kanade turns around. She knows that Mafuyu doesn’t belong here despite Mafuyu finding her and leading her out of her own hopeless Hell. She’s made peace with it, smiling gently as one does before they part ways with the one they know does not belong by their side, yet loves them enough to still walk the journey even for just one last look. “I… Please save yourself. In this life.”

Kanade’s eyes widen before her smile does. She nods and Mafuyu doesn’t look away until she disappears inside. That was it, she supposes. The story of a life that did not come to be. Despite her doubts, thought Mafuyu, at least her influence, no matter how small, had changed something in all of their lives.

Behind her, no noise or word is heard. She turns to look at the woman and only sees patience and understanding reflecting in her eyes.

“Mafuyu, let’s talk, okay?”

The first time she spoke to her mother truthfully, Mafuyu thought it was similar to how she imagines drowning to be. Your ears feel muffled, your breathing more of a struggle the longer you remain there and soon all you try to do is grasp for the surface, for some oxygen to fill your lungs. She managed to breathe once, pushed by Mizuki’s words and Kaito’s brutal honesty. Now, she sat side by side with her mother’s parallel self in a park close to Kanade’s place, silent and drinking a cold can of soda from a nearby vending machine.

“Did you talk things with Kanade?”

“Yes, we did,” she replies softly, moving past the lack of honorifics. Mafuyu won’t meet her eyes, focusing on the path a condensed droplet of water takes in the can in her hands. “I… Why did you come here..?”

“I was worried.” The woman laughs, a short and curt laughter that seemed cut in the middle. Awkward, Mafuyu thought, that’s what emotion it conveyed. “I couldn’t let you… I just… I felt I had to follow after you this time.”

How many things could have changed if certain words between two people were never shared? Mafuyu remembers Ena’s pain, her lack of strength to look at Mafuyu in the eye. Mizuki’s short hair flew with the cherry blossom petals nearby, smile like that of a dying man hearing his wish come true right when his end came. She stares at her hand, and knows that it’s impossible, yet she feels Kanade’s warmth against it.

To live in a world where the Sekai had not existed, where their fates were not intertwined– all it took was Mafuyu to not exist, to not call them out on their hypocrisy that one fateful day. And all it took for that was her mother deciding to not be her mother, to live a life that felt too far away from Mafuyu’s grasp.

“I haven’t… talked with anyone. About why we fought that day.” Mafuyu caresses the can with her thumb, the movement rhythmic and soothing. “Only with Kanade. Even dad doesn’t know the full story yet.”

“Why haven’t you told him?”

“I… I can’t find the words. To say what happened.” She remembers the cries of her mother, the desperation in her tone, how she felt as if there was no way to make her mother listen to her, that running away was the only thing to protect the warmth that could be taken away from her. How can a moment like that ever be put in words? Her heart remembers the coldness of the moment, the rush of blood through her veins and how her heart beat so loudly it felt as if everything was happening in slow motion and moving too fast for her brain to perceive at the same time. Words fail to truly capture the feeling of that moment, the full truth of it. She’s a lyricist and she knows best the limit of words. “You… I…”

“Before you tell me that, do you mind if I say something first?” The woman beside her surprises Mafuyu with her question. She nods. She could do with some more time to gather her wits. “Ah, thank you.” She takes a deep breath. “I… I always feared I wouldn't be a good enough mother.”

Oh. She was diving right in the deep end. Mafuyu doesn’t look at her, lets her continue. The birds continue their song around them, leaves swishing by the light wind blowing by. It was late afternoon, and the sky was starting to show the first signs of the coming sunset. Life went on. All she could do was gaze at the world.

“I was close to your age when I was set to marry your dad. If my calculations are correct, I probably had you in my early twenties, right?” Mafuyu takes a moment to think before nodding. The woman smiles sadly. “My parents weren't the kind of parents that wanted you to do your best, and they'd rarely support my ambitions.” She picks at her fingers as she talks, can forgotten by her side of the bench. “The only reason I decided to run away was because I couldn’t see myself living the life they’d let me live. I can imagine it now like a dream– I’d do a simple university, marry your father and continue my life as a housewife. I’d live my entire life living a good life, yet always with my head turned back wondering what could have happened if I had had more support to break through my fears and chase what I wanted.”

She pauses. Mafuyu places the can beside her before she crushes it. The skin of her hand turns white where her fingers rest. 

“We haven’t spent much time together these days, Mafuyu, but…” The smile is evident in her tone as she continues talking. “But I look at the life I’ve built, and sometimes there were moments where I wondered if things had been different. If I’d have married your father and had you. I’m sure that even the me that is your mother wonders of these what ifs.”

Mafuyu is sure her mother does. Wonders if she never had Mafuyu, if there was never a chance for her to have a child that abandoned her, that ran away from her, a child that couldn’t accept her love.

“I… I realise now that looking back is the act one does as much as loving. That no matter what choice I made that day, I’d always think about if I had chosen differently. I’m sure you have a moment like that too in your life, Mafuyu, that you think about how differently it could have gone.”

Kanade’s warm smile flashes in her mind, her hand out for Mafuyu to grasp and promise eternity to. Mizuki with the sun behind them, urging Mafuyu to protect her warmth by running away. Ena’s steady voice as she’d lied to her mother, kept her there and drew her as she wrote lyrics. Lastly, she remembers her mother’s tears, her crying for Mafuyu to just understand her, even if she wouldn’t give Mafuyu the same grace.

“My parents weren’t good parents. Even now, I couldn’t be a good mother to you.” When she makes to talk, Mafuyu meets her eyes. There’s no self pity in them, only acceptance of the truth. “You were thrown in a world you had no idea of, and I left you to fend for yourself most of the time. I’d rather think of what was best for you according to me than ask what you truly might need. I’m sure that I made a similar mistake that made you run away. Haven’t I?”

There’s no words she can say in reply. She nods. The woman looks away, blinking away unshed tears. “I don’t regret the choice I made that day, despite thinking of the what if. It was the path that I truly wanted, and I don’t think I’d be happy if I hadn’t chosen it.” Mafuyu bites at her lip until she tastes blood. She’d rather have her mother yell at her, cry and beg for Mafuyu’s comfort than this. Why couldn’t she– “But I’m sure your mother thinks the same as I do about her choice.”

“Eh?”

The woman beside her rests her hand in the bench between them. Palm facing upwards, fingers open. Mafuyu can’t reach out. She can’t. Her body won’t respond to her.

“This was the life I chose, but your mother's life is the one she chose too. We both chose what we thought was best in that one moment. In that world, I'm sure I'd never regret giving birth to a girl like you, Mafuyu. I’d live through my pregnancy a thousand times if it meant I’d watch you grow and be happy.” Mafuyu’s eyes burn, and now she can taste the blood from her lip easier, sucking to hold back tears. “I’d never regret choosing to begin a life with your father and have you, despite the hurdles and despite this life I could have lead instead. Mafuyu, look at me please.”

She can’t. She wants to but she can’t. She understands Ena, then. There’s a certain courage needed to face a parent that is like a god to you. A warm hand meets her cheek, and her face is raised. Her mother is looking back at her, eyes wide and sure, wet with tears. Despite that, despite the path tears have already taken down her cheeks, she remains smiling. 

“Mafuyu. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you, but you must know that I’m just human. I wasn’t born knowing how to be a mother, just like you weren’t born knowing how to be a daughter.” A sob is heard, and Mafuyu realises too late it came from her own lips. “I lived a life with parents that wouldn’t care much for what my future held as long as I didn’t cause trouble. I can only assume how that reflected on you. But no matter what I can say, remember this–”

Her other hand joins her other cheek. Mafuyu feels like she’s six and lost in the park, her mother grasping her cheeks to make sure Mafuyu was truly looking at her. This time, she doesn’t feel guilt. She just wants her mother to continue looking at her like this.

“No matter what, all I want is for you to live the life that’s best for you. That’s where everything I do comes from.”

“I just want you to understand me, mom,” sobs Mafuyu. She’s crying, and she can barely speaking through her tears. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I just want– I want you to understand me. I love you, mom, and I always wanted to make you happy–”

She remembers the times she would wait for her mother at her kindergarten, smiling widely when her mother would appear with a smile, arms open for Mafuyu to run in them. When she’d ask for her dad, her mother would smile sadly and apologise, and then Mafuyu would pull out a paper with a star and show it to her. Her mother was always warmest when she’d smile proudly at Mafuyu, when she’d pat her head and tell her Mafuyu was doing well. All Mafuyu wanted was to erase that sadness from her mother’s face, to make her mother continue smiling at her. 

“I can’t let go of music, I just can’t. And you just won’t listen to me and understand that. Why can't you listen to me, mom? I just want you to understand– I’m so sorry, mom–”

“Oh, Mafuyu.” Her mother pulls her in her arms, and Mafuyu clings to her as she never has before. She’s desperate to run away and desperate to continue being in her mother’s arms. “Oh, what have I done to you? Mom is so sorry, Mafuyu, your mom is so sorry.”

Her mother doesn’t let go and Mafuyu doesn’t either. Her hug is warm and suffocating, but it doesn’t hurt. She can’t forgive her mother, but she loves her. She loves the mother who stayed by her side as a kid, who attended every single event and made sure every medal and certificate Mafuyu had was hanging right at centre of their home. Her mother who doesn't regret her existence, who did all she could to be two parents at the same time just to see Mafuyu be well.

She loves her mother despite everything, but she doesn’t love her enough to give up the only thing that’s given her warmth. She loves her mother but she also loves the warmth that she feels when she’s with her group, the way that music is the one thing she can’t afford to lose. If she betrays music, she betrays herself. Mafuyu nearly lost herself the moment she had nothing left but the desire to keep her mother happy. Why couldn't both things co-exist? Why couldn't she have her mother and her music? 

“Mafuyu,” whispers her mother. She doesn’t move to look at Mafuyu, holds a hand against her head and another around her shoulders. Her voice is gentle but sure, steadfast in her words. “Don't come back home, okay?” She freezes. Huh? Her mother’s grip is tight, face hidden in her hair. “Don’t come back until you want to. Mom loves you with all I have, and I’d rather you come back when you want to. I hurt you too much, and I’m sorry.” A sob escapes her mother, and she can’t find it in herself to speak to soothe her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a good enough mother for you. Please understand I didn’t want you to repeat my mistakes. So please, don’t come back. Don’t do something just because you feel like you have to for me. You’ve done enough.”

When her mother pulls back, Mafuyu gasps. Her hair is down, and she’s wearing the same clothes as the last time she saw her. She’s crying, but there’s a smile in her face that Mafuyu had never seen before. She was in pain, but she never had smiled so brightly. “Do what your heart tells you, okay? Even if you don’t know, don’t take a step just to feel like you took one. Stay with Kanade. I… She cares for you, that girl. So I’m not worried about you.”

“Mom…” The sun is setting, and the blue of her mother’s eyes has never been that clear to her. “Mom… Mom!”

But her mother only hugs Mafuyu again and Mafuyu lets her eyes fall closed to her mother’s warmth.  

“I love you, Mafuyu. Your mom will love you no matter what, even if it feels like she doesn’t. So don’t betray yourself for me. Promise me that.”

Mafuyu wants to promise her. When she tries to speak, no words come out of her mouth. She clings to her mother, struggling to breathe in her warmth and this time, it’s something she doesn’t want to let go of. Her warmth loosens slowly, yet it remains all around Mafuyu, an ode to a forgotten motherly love.

As Asahina Mafuyu awoke from uneasy dreams, she found herself staring at the face of her friend. She was laying on her back in what she assume was grass, and when she blinked, Ena’s face was hovering above hers. Her movements felt heavy, as if weightened by a life never lived.

What has happened to me? she thought. It was no dream. Mizuki’s face appeared next, and as she turned her head, Kanade caught her eyes, smiling gently from beside them. They were in a clearing, a cherry tree gently swishing from the wind above them. She was laying her head in Ena’s lap, and Ena had frozen with her hand against her cheek, the other resting against Mafuyu’s stomach.

“I– uh, you were… crying.” She blinks as she stares at Ena. “Are you okay? You were in a heavy sleep.”

“Sleep…?”

“Yeah!” It’s Mizuki that talks next, plopping on the ground beside her. Their ponytail falls on their shoulder, soft against Mafuyu’s hand. “We were talking about our song, and then you were replying slowly and next thing we know Enanan has to be a ninja to make sure you don’t hit your head on the ground!”

“Did you have a good nap, Mafuyu?”

Mafuyu stares at them. Ena is smiling gently, her back resting against the tree and the hand on Mafuyu’s face moving to rest on the ground. She can feel Mizuki’s warm breath against her face, their teeth showing from their smile. Kanade sits further beside them, gaze warm and steady. They are all happy. They are all there. The sun is shining brightly in the sky, and Mafuyu realises that life continues and she’s not alone.

“I…” Her throat feels dry. “Thank you, all of you. For being here with me.”

Ena and Mizuki blink, but Mafuyu continues staring to Kanade. They don’t need to talk. Whatever Kanade sees in her gaze, it makes her smile, nodding in approval at a silent message even Mafuyu is unaware about. Kanade understands her, lacking surprise at her words. Around her, Ena and Mizuki have begun bickering about her sudden words, Ena reaching over her face to pinch their cheek and Mafuyu doesn’t complain when she gets elbowed by Mizuki trying to pinch Ena’s side. 

Her friends were smiling around her. Perhaps it is the things they went through that got them to this moment, and maybe she was the cataclyst of giving them a chance to shine this bright. Mafuyu doesn't know. Ena has a sketchpad by her side and Mizuki's hair is being braided by Kanade, albeit poorly even if both of them are smiling widely.

They exist by each other's side. That’s enough for now. It will be enough for later, too. The birds will continue to sing, and the cherry blossoms will fill the air with their colour. Pink will douse her heart and mind, and the four of them will walk through the falling petals towards their unknown paths with a heart lacking regret.

Her mother wrote today. Or yesterday, she does not know.

A letter rests in her hands, hidden inside a white envelope. When he came to visit earlier, her father had placed it on the table, hesitant in his action. She’d frozen, at first, but she was the one to raise her hand and grasp the envelope in her hold, standing and leaving to her room. 

Her dream remains half forgotten and half not. Her mother’s image does not bring fear to her heart anymore. She still cannot find it in herself to go home, but at least the guilt of not doing so is easier to handle, a weight placated by the workings of her unconsciousness. It was silly, but Ena had told her how dreams could affect the way you handled your life- it wasn't that out of pocket to find peace from them.

Her mother had written her a letter. She was afraid to open it. But there was only now, and she’d rather do this now than let it linger. She tears the envelope open. The letter is much shorter than she thinks it would be, barely passing half of the page.

Her mother’s handwriting is still the same as it has always been. She reads through slowly. She feels something soft with her thumb as a tear rolls down her cheek. Had her mother been crying too, as she wrote this? It comforts Mafuyu, even if her heart is racing the same way it always had. Her body couldn’t forget guilt that easily, and her heart felt just as lost as it had before she finishes the letter. Yet-

She stands up and places the letter by her bedside. Kanade is fiddling with the synthesizer when Mafuyu reaches her side. There’s warmth in her eyes when they meet Mafuyu's, in the hand that grasps Mafuyu’s. As if in a dream, Mafuyu curls her fingers around hers, slightly longer and colder. She had done this before, though she cannot remember when.

“Can we… play the piano together?”

“Of course, Mafuyu. Sit with me.”

There are no questions. Mafuyu sits by Kanade’s side, the room soon filled with their light notes. Kanade joins her dance without asking why, without putting Mafuyu in a position where she has to explain the letter or the dried tears in her cheeks. Her hands fall in a familiar dance next to Mafuyu’s. These hands are the ones Mafuyu trusts the most, whose warmth protected her from all the harsh winters of her life. 

“Kanade?”

“Mhm?”

“I… I’m glad we can make music together.” Her admission is as soft as a leaf against the still water surface. “I want to continue doing this with you for as long as we can. That's... That's what I truly want.”

“Mafuyu…” Kanade sighs, and Mafuyu doesn’t need to look at her to know she’s smiling. “Yes, let’s continue making music together.”

In the other side of Tokyo, her mother waits for her father to come home. She does not wait for Mafuyu to join him. She does not haunt Mafuyu, nor is her silence a noose around her throat. For now, she has some more time. More time to learn how to forgive her mother, more time to learn how to move forward. More time to–

Mafuyu smiles, sincerely and warmly. She has time. She’s still lost, but at least there’s one less shackle hanging around her ankle. All she must do is move forward, explore the unknown before her. She does not have to be good, nor repent through the desert for a thousand miles for choosing something that goes against her mother. All she has to do is stay there, by the warmth of the song that fills her ears. The world won’t leave her behind, leaves itself open for her to grasp it. 

Their song continues playing, and just like wild geese, hope soars free in her heart.

Mafuyu,

I hope that you decide to read this letter. I don’t expect you to listen to your mother’s words, considering what happened. But you have always been a girl with the kindest heart. I hope you granted your poor mother another chance at least.

I haven’t fully spoken to your father yet. Judging by his confusion at the situation, you haven’t either. Please, if you can, talk to him. I feel myself lacking the right words. Maybe the girl you’re staying with can help you with finding them.

You appeared on my dream last night. You were young, and standing under a cherry tree. You cried for me and even as I hugged you, I could not get you to stop crying. I felt weak in a way only a mother can, powerless to stop you. No matter my words, you would continue crying and I could not help you. 

Then you were older, begging for forgiveness. Why were you, Mafuyu? I still can’t remember well. You begged me to forgive you, that you just wanted to be understood. I don’t understand you, Mafuyu, all of the choices you made and the secrets you kept. But after that dream and all the days I haven't had you tell me good morning, I think that’s alright. I’m your mother, but I’m also just human. You are my only child. I suppose I’ll have to accept that there will be times I won’t understand you just as you won’t understand me, despite all my love.

My parents lacked understanding of my heart, too. I’m as clueless as you are on how to be your mother, Mafuyu. All I wanted was to make you understand that all I wanted was for you to live the life I never could, to know I’d always be there to make sure you could be at your best. It seems I did you more hurt than good. 

I love you, Mafuyu. You have always followed my advice, and done everything to be the best daughter a mother can dream of. Please know that I see that now, that I won’t take it for granted. Thank you for doing all you could to keep my heart happy, even when it wasn’t your responsibility to. Your mother is incredibly proud of you.

Don’t come home yet, if you aren’t ready. Your father assured me you were well. Make sure to rest and take care of yourself. Mom will wait for you. I bought you a new synth, and I’m keeping your room tidy until you come back. I don’t understand why you want to do what you want, nor the friendship with that girl, but you shared her desire to be by each other’s side. I’ll be waiting until the day you can share this part of your life with me. I promise I will try to understand you, even if I don’t know how to yet.

I don’t know many things in this life. How to be a good mother, how to fill the gap your father’s lack of presence left in you, how to bring back the smile you used to show me when you were younger, how to forget the desperation in your face. I don’t know many things, Mafuyu, but I love you more than my ignorance.

When you’re ready, your mother is waiting to try again. Until then, please follow my advice one last time. Please stand by yourself, by the truth you ran away to protect. It’s painful, but it’s what your heart truly wants. You won’t regret anything if you do so. I realise that this was your true path I was afraid you'd lose track of if you kept going with music. 

Take care of yourself until I can do my part in caring for you again. 

With love,

Mom.