Archive of Our Own

Anon Chihaya was many things. 

She was talented, passionate, and beloved by her peers. She greeted each day and situation with a smile. She was determined to stand taller than all those around her. She was assertive, confident, and friendly. She was the student council president of her middle school, and she never bowed to anyone when it came to expressing her opinions. She was a force of nature, and she was proud of it. 

Anon Chihaya was many things, but an outsider was not one of them. 

Anon could not say she knew what she expected when she returned to Japan to finish out her first year of high school. She knew to put her best foot forward though, and she would not let her unorthodox circumstances hold her back. Most cliques had already formed by the time she arrived at her new high school, but Anon would find a way into the group she was meant to belong to. She would do whatever she had to in order to prove that this was where she belonged. 

And apparently, that meant joining a band. 

Anon had known about the girl band craze from her time in middle school. She had even been the star of a band made up of her middle school’s student council. Even so, nothing could have prepared her for how much popularity girl bands gained in the few months of her absence. The idea of not being in a band had turned into something almost blasphemous since Anon was last in Japan. She could make that work though. All she needed to do was find a group she could call her own. Anon could be the star of yet another band if she recruited talented girls to fill out the rest of the instruments. With her charisma, it would be easy. How could it not be?

That was what she had hoped initially. Unfortunately, Anon was right when she assumed that most of the cliques in her school had already formed by the time she arrived. That also meant most of the bands at her school had already formed too. There were very few bands searching for new members, and those that were already had a vocalist. That was fine though. Anon could figure something out. She could start a new one if she had to. There had to be a few girls who wanted to join a band. She just needed to know where to look. 

A few days after Anon began her search for other bandmates, she wandered into the wind ensemble’s practice room. She could hear someone on the piano, and they seemed to be the only person inside. If the person responsible for the song could play the piano, then they had to know how to play the keyboard too. That would knock one instrument off Anon’s list. Finally, her luck was starting to pay off. 

Anon opened the door slowly, and the dulcet melody of the piano grew ever louder. There was something almost mournful about the song, but Anon shrugged the thought off. The blue-haired girl sitting behind the piano had her eyes closed, and even without seeing her fingers, Anon could feel just how intensely she was playing. Anon felt her jaw starting to drop as she realized how perfect this was. The girl wasn’t just good at piano; she was amazing, and she would fit perfectly with the band Anon was crafting. She could feel it. 

The girl with blue hair only opened her eyes once she had finished her song. An unsettling serenity had come to rest on her shoulders, but it vanished when she heard Anon begin to clap from her place by the door. “You’re really good!” Anon chirped as she closed the distance between them with a smile. 

The blue-haired girl hid how rattled she was quickly, moving to close the key lid. “Are you in the wind ensemble?” 

“Oh, nothing like that. I just came to listen,” Anon replied. She examined the blue-haired girl a bit closer, finding that the pianist was the very picture of grace. The blue-haired girl didn’t seem to appreciate being listened to though, and she turned away as her grip on the key lid went tight. Feeling her grasp on the conversation slip, Anon tossed out all other compliments she had been brewing and smiled nervously at the girl. “Um, want to be in a band with me?” The girl’s fingers paused just before she could close the key lid, and Anon held up her hands defensively. “Sorry for bringing it up so suddenly. I’m a first-year. My name is Chihaya.”

The girl finally spoke for the first time, her eyes widening ever so slightly. “Chihaya-san?”

Right, Anon remembered with a masked wince. She was trying to start over, and that meant going by her first name instead. “Please call me Anon,” she covered as quickly as she could. “I’m looking for band members right now. I do guitar and vocals, so keyboards and stuff are–”

The girl closed her eyes and looked away. “No.”

“Are you already in a band?” Anon pressed. 

The girl finally pulled the key lid shut in full. “No.” 

The girl pulled her bag over her shoulder and started toward the door, pausing a few steps away to watch Anon over her shoulder. “It’s almost time for the wind ensemble to meet. It would be best if you left too.”

Anon watched the blue-haired girl until after she rounded the corner and left her line of sight. “‘It would be best?’” Anon found herself echoing. That girl was definitely too formal to go to a school like this. 

But Anon had tried to recruit her if nothing else. She wished it could have taken her somewhere better, but at least she had put in the effort. It just meant she would have to look somewhere else. There had to be other girls who were interested in forming a band with her. Anon just needed to find them. 

~~~~~

As it turned out, there were other girls who were interested in forming a band with her. 

Anon hadn’t expected her saving grace would be the strange rock collecting girl who sat in front of her in class. In the end though, Tomori had been the one to give Anon her path to a girl band. She had two other friends named Soyo and Taki, and together, they started to form a band. 

Anon couldn’t say she was entirely satisfied with the arrangement though. Soyo and Taki would only do the band if Tomori was allowed to be the main vocalist, so Anon would be shoved off to the side. She wasn’t giving up though. There had to be a way for her to get what she wanted out of this, and Anon was going to find it. 

The other major catch was Tomori’s deal for staying in the band: they needed to do it for their entire lives. She would not stick around unless she was confident they would never split up. Anon, on the other hand, had never been planning on making this a long-term arrangement. She was not an outsider, and if joining a band was what it took to stay ahead of the curve of trends, then she would do it. That did not mean she wanted to do this forever, but if it was the only way she could be in a band at all… She could find a way to make that work too. Anon couldn’t say she liked how much she was having to work around already, but she would find a way to resolve it. She had to.

During the process of planning out this new band, Anon learned about the doomed tale of CRYCHIC. It was a middle-school band that Tomori, Soyo, and Taki had been in together, but it was broken up after Sakiko–the one who had brought them together in the first place–announced she was leaving. Sakiko was also the pianist Anon had met when she was trying to plan out who would be in her band. Somehow, that only opened more questions in Anon’s mind than it answered, but she did her best to ignore it. Sakiko had turned her down, and Anon had a new band now. Whatever Sakiko chose to do with her time was none of Anon’s business. All Anon could afford to think of was how to find a way to stand center stage with her newest unnamed project. 

Anon didn’t think much about Sakiko during classes the following day. Now that she knew about CRYCHIC, Anon had a better idea of what she was working with, and it seemed like she would be able to make all of this come together. Tomori had said she didn’t want to be in a band, but Anon could feel the truth. Tomori wanted this more than she was willing to admit, and Anon was more than happy to give her the extra bit of encouragement she needed to join the new band. Tomori would be a bit harder to persuade than Anon’s old friends from student council in middle school, but she knew she could do it. 

Beyond that, Soyo had agreed to start a band with her. Tomori would probably follow her heart and join in too after she realized what she wanted to do. That would make for three band members. Tomori could play some other instrument, and Anon could handle the lead guitar and vocals. The band of Anon’s dreams was closer than ever before, and she couldn’t tear her mind away from it no matter how hard she tried… Though she didn’t try too hard to stop thinking about it. Anon spent much of her time at school daydreaming about what she wanted to name the new band. She knew others could accuse her of getting too far ahead of herself, but Anon couldn’t bring herself to care. This was what she wanted, and she was going to reach for it no matter what it took. 

Tomori left their shared classroom early that afternoon, and Anon hastily gathered her things to trail after her. She didn’t know what Tomori was thinking, but Anon was determined to convince her to join a band with her. Anon refused to let her dreams be shattered so soon after they had formed, and so, she ran after Tomori as quickly as she could. 

“Anon-san?”

Anon stopped in her tracks at the sound of Sakiko’s voice, and she turned to see the blue-haired girl standing at the top of the stairs Anon had been dashing down. Sakiko seemed to be in a much better mood today, smiling as she held her bag against her chest. With her curt dismissal of Anon’s request previously, Anon had expected Sakiko to want little to do with her going forward, and she was strangely glad to see she had been wrong. 

But at the same time, Anon couldn’t help but see Sakiko in a slightly different light. She didn’t know what to make of Sakiko’s decision to abruptly leave and disband CRYCHIC, and Anon understood even less of it as she saw Sakiko smiling down at her. Soyo had said firmly that what happened to CRYCHIC wasn’t Sakiko’s fault, but Anon couldn’t help but feel otherwise. How else was she meant to define Sakiko’s sudden departure? It certainly felt like Sakiko’s fault to Anon even as the other girl continued to smile at her with something like excitement in her eyes. Sakiko didn’t know that Anon knew what she had done to CRYCHIC, and Anon didn’t know what she was meant to think of Sakiko in return. 

“Have you found any band members?” Sakiko asked, her golden eyes glittering in the afternoon sunlight. 

Anon considered the question for only a moment. “Yes.” The arrangements were hardly set in stone, but she knew she was making progress. She would be able to make it all work when she arrived at RiNG that afternoon. “Nagasaki… Nagasaki Soyo-chan.” Anon didn’t know why she hesitated when speaking Soyo’s name, but it seemed to bring with it an unexpected suffocating weight. 

Sakiko seemed to feel the same way, and something unidentifiable flashed through her eyes as she gasped softly. She recovered from her shock quickly, and she clutched tighter at her bag. Sakiko’s eyes narrowed with something like distaste, and Anon felt as if the very air was trying to kill her at Sakiko’s command. “I see,” was all Sakiko said at first. She turned to walk away, but she paused after a few steps. Sakiko glanced back at Anon with something dark and impossible in her gaze. “I would be careful around her if I were you.”

“What do you mean?” Anon asked, her throat strangely tight. 

Sakiko’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Take care to not place too much trust in those who do not deserve it.”

Anon’s eyes widened, and she stared numbly as Sakiko disappeared around the nearby corner and vanished from view entirely. What in the world did that mean? Even if Sakiko and Soyo were no longer friends, Anon didn’t understand why Sakiko would caution her to keep her guard up around Soyo. If something else had happened the day CRYCHIC broke up, surely Soyo or Tomori would have mentioned it… So what was Sakiko talking about?

Anon shook the thought off as quickly as she could. She needed to find Tomori. Everything else could wait. 

Even if Sakiko’s words echoed through her head relentlessly, Anon did her best to ignore it. She had a plan, and she was going to bring it to life no matter what it took. 

~~~~~

Anon was right about Tomori just as she had known she would be. All it took was a bit of pushing for Tomori to agree to try being in a band again. Anon facilitated a conversation between Soyo, Taki, and Tomori, and by the time it was over, Anon had everything she wanted. 

Well, she was getting closer if nothing else. Anon couldn’t say it was perfect as long as Taki and Soyo were so insistent on Tomori singing for the band. Anon would only be playing guitar since it was the only way to keep Taki and Soyo tied to the band. If nothing else, it was a start, and that was more than Anon could say about her last few days spent trying to pull a band together. 

Anon wasn’t going to give up on her perfect band so easily though. If she could push the operation in the right direction, then she would be able to do what she wanted. All of her daydreaming about a perfect band would culminate in something glorious. Anon was sure of it. All she needed to do was try a little bit harder. 

And yet, she couldn’t seem to escape the nagging echo of Sakiko’s voice in the back of her head. Anon had been largely distracted with her new band, so she hadn’t been able to think much about what Sakiko had told her… But when the chaos stilled, it was all Anon could focus on. What had Sakiko meant when she told Anon to not trust people who didn’t deserve it? Even if Sakiko and Soyo didn’t talk anymore, Anon thought Sakiko would have thought better of someone she had once considered a friend. 

Besides, what was there to not trust about Soyo? She had been the nicest person to Anon throughout this entire fiasco. If not for Soyo, Anon wouldn’t have made any progress in this band of hers at all. Anon owed a lot to Soyo, and she wasn’t going to let Sakiko ruin that. Sakiko was the one who had ruined CRYCHIC whether Soyo wanted Anon to say it out loud or not. Why would Anon trust Sakiko more than Soyo? 

If only that was enough to convince Anon to stop repeating Sakiko’s words in her head over and over again. In the middle of the night when Anon couldn’t stop tossing and turning, she found herself drifting back to Sakiko and what she had said. Anon didn’t know if Sakiko had meant to instill such deep doubt in her, but if that was her plan, then she had certainly succeeded. Anon didn’t know why Sakiko would want that, but she didn’t understand much of anything about Sakiko. Why start trying now?

If nothing else, ignoring Sakiko had been Anon’s plan, and she thought it was a good one. She had too much else to focus on aside from Sakiko’s bizarre behavior. Anon needed to figure out how she was going to get this new band of hers back on track so she got what she wanted from it. Anon was determined to find a way to sing in the band somehow. All she needed to do was do a bit more brainstorming to figure out how she was going to do it. If she was lucky, maybe she would even be able to get Soyo and Taki to agree to letting her name the band. They hadn’t given her much of a chance yet, but Anon could still tie everything together with the pretty bow she imagined. She knew she could. 

Anon’s plans were shattered as soon as RiNG’s stray cat showed up at the band’s rehearsal. Apparently, Raana had been listening in on the conversation Anon facilitated between Tomori, Soyo, and Taki, and she thought the others in the band were interesting enough for her to join. Raana barely seemed to care what the rest of the band was planning so long as she could play the guitar with them, and Anon wondered how Raana could mind the opinions of others so little. 

Something burning rose up in Anon’s stomach when Raana began to play “Spring Sunlight,” and it refused to be quelled even once she was out of the room. Anon knew she wasn’t the best guitar player, but she was willing to learn for the sake of the band. Raana was so much better than her without even trying though, and she was a year younger than Anon too. How could Anon measure up to someone who was so effortlessly talented? 

All Anon wanted to do was run away from it all. Raana wasn’t even supposed to be there. First, Anon hadn’t been allowed to sing for the band, and now, it was starting to look like she wouldn’t be able to play guitar for it either. Why would they need Anon as long as Raana was around? She was much better, and anyone with ears could see it. Was there even a point in staying in the band if Raana was always going to upstage her? 

If Anon was being honest, Raana wasn’t the only reason she was starting to doubt this was a good idea. Taki’s open aggression was beyond frustrating, and it seemed like the only person Taki liked less than Raana was her. Tomori, Taki, and Soyo had so much history with one another, and Anon was just walking in on it. Raana may have been fine with inserting herself where she was not wanted, but Anon knew for a fact that she was not. She had tried it in London, and all Anon had learned from that experience was that she despised not feeling like she belonged. 

Taki kept pushing her too. According to Taki, Anon wasn’t doing anywhere near enough for the band, and Anon was beginning to doubt she would ever be able to fill the massive gap of Taki’s expectations. Anon was trying to learn the guitar as quickly as she could, but it was hard to find any of it worthwhile when each time she picked up her guitar, she thought about Raana. She stood no chance as long as Raana was around. Anon would never be good enough for Taki, never be good enough to surpass Raana, and never be good enough to justify running away. 

Taki was right when she said all Anon did was run away. Maybe that was why everything Taki said grated on her nerves so much. Taki barely even acknowledged Anon half the time, always talking around her in a way that felt beyond simple passive aggression. Taki kept redoing the music too, and each time, Anon was left to fumble and catch up in a whole new way. Anon barely knew what she was doing without Taki’s constantly fluctuating sheet music, and the daily changes only made it worse. 

Anon couldn’t put a finger on everything that raced through her mind as she took off on shaking legs. She was tired of feeling left behind. She was tired of being left out. She was tired of never being good enough for anyone. Anon was exhausted, and she couldn’t help but feel like the bone-deep weariness was far older than she was willing to admit.

She had always been performing, hadn’t she? Back in middle school, Anon would have done anything to impress the people around her. She went to another school in a different country because of the glory she thought it would bring her. What was any of it worth? Anon was a coward stumbling from one stage to the next, smiling as widely as she could but never meaning it as much as she wanted to. 

Even after Tomori reassured Anon that she needed to be in the band–that she wanted Anon to be in the band–it was hard to fight that insecurity off. Anon had only wanted to start a band for the sake of optics and attention, but it was starting to feel like neither one was worth it. Anon wanted to be respected and well-liked, but would she really get anything of value from it as long as Raana was around? Anon had played in a band in middle school, but she was trying to separate herself from the life she had left behind, not tie herself down to it in new ways. 

Did she even want to do this? Anon craved all the validation she could find, but what was the point of chasing after it when it was such a battle? She wanted to think this was worth it, but Anon doubted it in the silence after she was left alone. Anon would not lose to the tides of new trends, but it was hard to want to stay afloat when nothing was going the way she had planned it. 

But the others wanted her around. Anon didn’t know if anything was enough to keep her there, but she was willing to try. Tomori and Soyo cared about her. Anon was their friend, and she wasn’t going to leave them high and dry. Regardless of her rocky relationship with Taki, Anon could count on Tomori and Soyo. She would be alright. She could see this through. She would. 

“Take care to not place too much trust in those who do not deserve it.”

Anon practiced the guitar late into the night, but the chords were never quite loud enough to drown out the echo of Sakiko’s warning in her ears. 

~~~~~

Regardless of how ready they were, the day of their first live performance arrived. 

To say the air was tense was a massive understatement. Tomori was too wrapped up in her fear that this would mark the end of their time together to sing out the way everyone else knew she could. Taki’s constant anxiety was grating against Anon’s nerves, and no one seemed to be able to calm her down. Raana refused to stay in one place for longer than a few minutes, always marching to the beat of her own drum. Anon hadn’t known if they were ready before she arrived at the venue, but after they began to prepare… 

Anon wasn’t sure what happened during the performance, but Tomori saw something in the crowd, and as soon as she did, she finally began to sing out. It was like the world had finally come into focus, and everything seemed… Fine. Their rocky start and crash during their sound check couldn’t hold them back forever. It didn’t matter that their band didn’t have a name, costumes, or anything else to unify them beyond a vague concept. They were playing music together. They were performing. 

Anon couldn’t say for certain what prompted it, but once they finished the end of their first song, something in the air shifted. The opening notes of “Spring Sunlight” broke through the silence, and Anon tripped over herself to keep up. She had never practiced “Spring Sunlight” before; she didn’t even have the sheet music for it. Anon had heard it quite a few times from videos of the three members of CRYCHIC who had played it at their previous live performance, but hearing it and playing it were two entirely different things. 

Keeping up with the song was much easier said than done, but Anon felt like she was doing a good job of it. “Spring Sunlight” really was a special song like nothing else, and by the time the song ended, Anon was smiling so much her cheeks were burning. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to care. None of her doubts about the band mattered anymore. Anon was right to be there, and she belonged on that stage with her friends. Taki didn’t seem quite as bad as the last few weeks had convinced Anon she was, and for the first time, it seemed like they could be friends. 

No… They were friends. 

The excited chatter took the quintet offstage and into the wings. Even though the performance got off to a less than perfect start, Anon was looking forward to the next one. Maybe sticking around for life wasn’t as bad of an idea as she thought. If every performance had the same magic as “Spring Sunlight,” then–

“Why did we play ‘Spring Sunlight?!’” 

Soyo’s voice was explosively loud in the crowded darkness backstage. Anon felt her heart freeze in her chest. She didn’t think she had ever heard Soyo this mad before. In fact, Anon didn’t think Soyo had ever been openly angry with any of them. All Anon could do was stare at Soyo in shocked silence as she shouted about how horrible they were for doing it. Soyo had played “Spring Sunlight” along with them though. Why was she this angry?

Anon’s hands shook as she put her guitar back in its case after the show. The trembling didn’t stop all the way back home, and she sat down on the couch upstairs with a sigh. Soyo had probably just had an emotional outburst. “Spring Sunlight” meant a lot to her, after all. Soyo had made a bad choice in the heat of the moment, but she would come around and forgive the others in time. She had to. 

“Take care to not place too much trust in those who do not deserve it.”

Sakiko had been at the show, hadn’t she? Soyo had said that when she yelled at the rest of the band. Was Sakiko the reason for Soyo’s strong reaction? “Spring Sunlight” had been important to Sakiko too, and according to Soyo, Sakiko had started to cry when they played it. Soyo could have blown up because she thought they had crossed a line and hurt Sakiko. 

Anon shook her head. She didn’t know what Sakiko had meant when she said Soyo didn’t deserve her trust, but she couldn’t lose track of that now. Soyo had a moment. She would come around and forgive the rest of the band soon enough. Soyo hadn’t ever been cruel to them before, and Anon saw no reason to believe she was going to start now. They just had to be patient. 

That night, Anon dreamed of the perfect blue of Sakiko’s hair and wondered if she knew.

~~~~~

Anon tried her best to ignore the growing volume of Sakiko’s whisper in the back of her mind. When she arrived at her classroom the next day, Anon smiled at Tomori and assured her that everything was going to be fine. Soyo hadn’t responded to any of their texts, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Anon didn’t know what was wrong with her, but she was confident Soyo would come around eventually. When she was ready to talk, she would, and the rest of the band would be there to listen. 

In the end, Anon and Tomori went to Sakiko’s classroom together to see if they could talk to her about the live show. If Soyo wasn’t going to respond to them, then they may as well take matters into their own hands. Perhaps all they needed to do was speak with Sakiko about the show. That would help them to get through to Soyo. It had to. 

Anon hadn’t known what to expect, but she certainly hadn’t imagined none of Sakiko’s classmates would even know her by her first name. 

Anon also hadn’t expected Sakiko to walk right past Tomori like she didn’t even exist. 

Anon stared after Sakiko for a long moment, and the blue-haired girl only looked up at her once Tomori ran off with tears in her eyes. Anon took a step toward her, but Sakiko’s gaze was piercing and told her to come no closer. “I told you to be careful around her, didn’t I?” was all Sakiko said before she sat down at her desk and began to unpack her bag. 

Anon felt her blood run cold, and the words she had tried so hard to ignore came rushing back into her mind. Sakiko was talking about Soyo. Sakiko had wanted Anon to be careful around Soyo from the start. She had said as much on the stairs, and Anon had tried to ignore it. Had Soyo always been like this? Did Sakiko know the live show was going to spark a reaction like this? If so, why not say something?

Anon stepped away from the classroom door with a pale face and wide, anxious eyes. She couldn’t think about Sakiko anymore. She needed to go find Tomori… And when she did, she couldn’t tell Tomori what Sakiko had said. The last thing Tomori needed was another reason to doubt her friend. 

Yes… Right. Anon would figure this out, but first, she needed to help Tomori. Everything else could wait. 

~~~~~

Anon was beginning to think maybe she was wrong about believing Soyo would forgive them. 

She hadn’t given up on pestering Soyo via text, but she still hadn’t received an answer, and Anon knew it had to be intentional. Soyo was normally very good at responding to messages, and if she had stopped bothering altogether… It was easy enough to see why she had shut everyone out, but that didn’t make it any easier to face. 

In fact, all it really served to do was frustrate Anon more. Soyo wasn’t normally like this, so what had happened for her to change so drastically? Was she really that upset that they played “Spring Sunlight” during their live show? Soyo had insisted when they first made the band that they needed to try and understand one another to ensure this band didn’t fall apart the way CRYCHIC had, but now, she was making very little effort to help her friends understand why she was acting this way. The hypocrisy tasted bitter, and the sting on Anon’s tongue only grew worse as the days wore on. 

Anon only caught a glimpse of Soyo a few days after the live show thanks to pure luck. She saw Soyo walking with a few of her friends from school, and Anon called her name and waved to her, relieved to see she was alright. Soyo, however, was much less enthused, and she was perfectly content to ignore Anon entirely and go right back to talking to her friends. Anon’s desperation grew so great that she called Taki of all people for help, but there was nothing any of them could do. Soyo wanted nothing to do with them anymore, and all they could do was sit with that heavy truth. 

Anon wanted to say she believed in Soyo. She wanted to say that she knew that if Soyo was making a choice like this, then there had to be a reason. All of her beliefs that Soyo was a reasonable person were instantly challenged when Sakiko’s voice began to ring in her ears again. Their last encounter made it seem as if Sakiko had seen all of this coming. 

Had Sakiko seen all of this coming? 

Sakiko had to know that Soyo was completely shutting the rest of the band out. There was something about Sakiko that told Anon to not doubt her even on something small like this. If Sakiko had known Anon was going to do this from the start, then… Why hadn’t she said anything? Anon supposed that would go against Sakiko trying to establish a new life for herself without CRYCHIC–or whatever else she was trying to do–but it still sat oddly with her. If Sakiko wanted nothing to do with her old bandmates, then why had she warned Anon? Why had she bothered to tell a girl she barely knew that she should be careful around Soyo? Why did Sakiko think so little of someone she had once called a friend? 

Anon did her best to shrug it all off, but ignoring the facts of the matter only became harder when Taki texted the band’s group chat requesting that they rehearse. Anon thought for a split second that perhaps Taki had managed to get through to Soyo… But all of those hopes were dashed the instant she saw Umiri Yahata standing in their practice space instead. Taki had gone behind their backs and found another bassist, and all Anon could do was stare at her. 

Taki threw the band into rehearsal without missing a beat, seemingly trying to fill the silence with the band’s music rather than her own thoughts. Umiri could sense it too, and she took her leave when she realized how little of a chance she stood at filling the vacancy Soyo had left behind. Taki was practically bursting at the seams by the time Umiri walked out, something desperate unraveling in her eyes. When Tomori asked why Taki had asked for a new bassist–why Taki didn’t believe in Soyo anymore–Taki spat out her response like it was poison. “She isn’t coming back,” Taki muttered crossly. 

“She promised she’d do it her whole life!” Tomori exclaimed, her voice catching countless times on the words. 

“That promise was a lie!” Taki screamed. 

“Explain everything properly,” Anon instructed, fighting to keep her voice level from some blend of rage and fear. “What do you mean it was a lie? Did Soyo-san say that?”

“That’s right,” Taki answered. 

“She said she’s quitting the band?” Anon pressed. 

“She didn’t say she’s quitting,” Taki bristled. 

“What? So you just brought in a new person without asking anyone, Ricky?” Anon asked, hating the brief flash of perfect blue hair and knowing golden eyes in her mind. “That’s crazy, isn’t it? We have to make sure that Soyo-san–”

“She never intended to be part of a new band!” Taki shouted. “Everything she did was to try to bring CRYCHIC back. She said that she doesn’t need you or Raana. She just used you to tie me and Tomori together!”

Anon’s eyes widened, and her mind flashed through every conversation she had ever shared with Soyo. She had only grown interested in Anon when Tomori was mentioned. Soyo’s smile had been so serene and knowing when she said she and Tomori were friends… But there was much more to it now. Soyo reached out to Taki even though she knew she didn’t get along with Anon because it would help to bring CRYCHIC one member closer to completion. Anon was the reason Soyo was able to talk to Tomori, and yet, when she listed off who she wanted to be in a band with, she only named herself, Tomori, and Taki. 

This had been Soyo’s plan from the start. She never wanted anything to do with Anon; she just wanted to resurrect CRYCHIC, and Anon was the glue she needed to keep Tomori and Taki united until Sakiko and Mutsumi returned. 

“That’s not right!” Tomori cried. “Soyo-chan said we’d keep playing in the band even after the performance, so…”

“What’s not right?” Taki asked darkly, and Tomori went stiff. “Tomori, would you rather be part of CRYCHIC? Is that what you mean? If you want to play with Soyo, then that means you don’t need this girl, right?”

“No,” Tomori pleaded. “Everyone together.”

“That’s impossible,” Taki murmured. 

“It’s not impossible!” Tomori retorted, and Anon felt her heart skip a beat. Everything made sense in the cruelest way imaginable. Soyo had been kind to her to get what she wanted from Tomori and Taki. Anon meant nothing to her, and any friendship they may have shared was merely a stepping stone to bring CRYCHIC back to its former glory. 

“Do you want Soyo, or do you want these guys? Which is it?” Taki pressed. Anon didn’t wait for Tomori to respond, instead pulling her guitar off and sliding it into its case. She could feel Taki’s eyes following her even before the drummer spoke. “What are you doing?”

“You don't need me, right?” Anon replied simply. She remained silent all the way to the door even as Tomori whispered her name. Anon braced her fingers against the doorknob and halfway turned, still not daring to meet Tomori’s eyes. “Tomori-chan, you should play in CRYCHIC with Soyo-san.” Anon pulled the door shut behind her, shoving down the urge to turn back as she heard Tomori sobbing softly in her wake. 

Anon waited until she was safe in the comfort of her room before she crumbled too, setting her guitar aside and sobbing into her hands. 

She was the outsider she had always told herself she would never become, and she hadn’t even noticed it until it was too late. 

~~~~~

Over the course of the next few days, Anon came to understand her circumstances much better. 

First and foremost, Anon knew that she had been lied to from the start. Everything Soyo had done had been for the plan of getting CRYCHIC back together. Looking back, Anon realized just how many underhanded comments she had willingly glossed over when she believed Soyo was her friend. Soyo was just as content as Taki to undermine Anon’s opinions and feelings, but since she did it in a much kinder way, Anon never pressed the matter. Soyo had never truly cared about Anon beyond using her to bring Tomori and Taki into the band. As soon as Sakiko and Mutsumi agreed to rejoin the band, Soyo would discard Anon and Raana so she could get back to the life she believed was best for her. 

Speaking of Sakiko, she had dominated Anon’s thoughts practically every moment she was awake. Learning of Soyo’s betrayal was one thing, but Sakiko’s words haunted her impossibly more. Sakiko had known about this from the start, hadn’t she? Why else would she have warned Anon to be careful about putting her trust in Soyo? Anon didn’t know how Sakiko had figured it out, but she needed to hear the truth. If her time in her new band had all been a lie, then Anon needed to know why. 

But she wasn’t going to seek Soyo out to hear it. Soyo had already decided to ignore the entire band in pursuit of something new. She spent time with her other friends from school and pretended to not see every text message she received, even when the messages came from Tomori and Taki. Maybe Soyo’s plan to reunite CRYCHIC hadn’t gone as she had hoped. Perhaps that was the reason for her change in behavior. Anon couldn’t say for certain. All she was really sure of was that she couldn’t stand to look Soyo in the eyes after what she had done. Anon needed the truth, and she wasn’t going to hear it from Soyo. 

Anon didn’t talk to Tomori when she saw her again at school. Tomori had seemingly given up on trying to reach out to her even though they sat right next to one another. Anon kept her head down and remained silent in class, and Tomori looked at her rock collection to ensure she didn’t rise to the temptation to try and stare at Anon in a moment of weakness. It was miserable having to go back to square zero after all the time Anon and Tomori had spent together, but Anon had made up her mind. If it was between her and Soyo, then Anon would leave Tomori with the person she knew better. 

Even so, Soyo’s plan to bring CRYCHIC back seemed to have failed since Anon still hadn’t seen Tomori with Sakiko at school. Anon would have expected to see Tomori and Sakiko together after the live show if Soyo’s plan had come to fruition… But she never did. Anon almost wondered if she had walked out for nothing. If Sakiko was never planning on coming back, then maybe Anon had abandoned Tomori for no reason. 

No… It wasn’t for no reason. Anon couldn’t stand to be around Soyo after the way she had treated her. If that meant leaving the rest of the band behind, then so be it. If that meant being an outsider, then so be it. It wasn’t as if Anon had ever truly felt like she was part of something greater in the first place. 

That wasn’t true either though, was it? Anon had felt perfect and shining onstage with the rest of the band. Even after their rough night, Anon felt they would be able to make something radiant of their music. Anon had never felt so alive… 

Until Soyo screamed at her and the rest of the band. 

Anon didn’t think she could truly enjoy that moment from the performance anymore. When she thought about it from the perspective that Soyo was always planning on leaving her behind… Anon wanted to run away from everything the same way she knew she always had. Anon had been played for a fool from the start, and she had been too slow to realize it. She couldn’t go back to that. She didn’t know if she would ever be able to play in a band again after that. Why bother if it would only remind her of a misery as deep as the new chasm of loneliness in her chest?

Anon’s legs carried her wordlessly to the jazz band’s practice room, and she paused for a long moment outside the door. The delicate melody of the piano drifted through the cracks in the door, and Anon knew without needing to check that it was Sakiko playing. She braced herself with a tiny breath before she pushed the door open. 

Sure enough, Sakiko was sitting behind the piano, the very picture of grace she had been when Anon first met her. Sakiko didn’t notice she had company until Anon spoke when she took a break between measures. “Sakiko-chan,” Anon called out, and Sakiko’s eyes opened to reveal that crystalline, mysterious gold that had haunted Anon’s every night for weeks. “We need to talk.”

Sakiko closed the fallboard of the piano and reached for her bag. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.” She started toward the door, her hair brushing just a bit too close to Anon for comfort. 

“It’s about Soyo-san,” Anon went on, and Sakiko went still. She seemed to consider walking away then and there, but all thoughts of departure evaporated when Anon continued. “You were right. Soyo-san was using me from the start. All she ever wanted was to get CRYCHIC back together. I was just another pawn in her game.”

Sakiko turned to face Anon slowly, her eyes unreadable. “I warned you.”

“I know,” Anon replied wearily. “And I wish I had listened.” After a moment of unsteady silence, Anon let out a tiny, frustrated sigh. “How did you know that was going to happen? How did you know what her plan was?”

Sakiko remained quiet for another few moments before her gaze grew steely. “I know Soyo. I knew she missed CRYCHIC and wanted to bring everyone together again. She would never agree to be in a band again if that was not her purpose. She wouldn’t leave me alone because she was desperate for me to come back.” 

Anon felt her throat close up, and she nodded, the movement fractional but overwhelming. She had known that was Soyo’s plan ever since Taki said it, but hearing it from Sakiko… Somehow, that made it harder to face. Every bitter revelation Anon had been fighting to ignore was trying to suffocate her now. Anon had been an outsider from the start, but she had been so caught up in Soyo’s kindness that she didn’t even realize it. 

“I made it very clear that I did not want to come back,” Sakiko continued. “I wanted nothing to do with her, but she wouldn’t listen. Soyo couldn’t take no for an answer, so she just kept pushing. I have since told her that I meant it when I said I would not be returning… Though only time will tell if she intends to let that be the end of it.”

Anon nodded dully. It was hard to imagine Soyo refusing to let go of CRYCHIC to the point of going so far… But then again, Anon didn’t really know much about Soyo, did she? If she had, then maybe she could have figured out sooner to steer clear. Maybe she would have realized Soyo was only ever using her. Anon was only ever useful to Soyo so long as she was able to get Tomori invested in starting a band. Anon may as well have not existed beyond acting as that metaphorical glue for a group doomed to never reunite regardless. 

“What are you going to do now?” Sakiko asked next, and Anon realized a bit belatedly that she had gotten caught up in her thoughts without noticing. 

Anon let out a self-deprecating laugh, hating the way it sounded against her ears. “I can’t go back,” Anon began simply. “I’m never going to play in a band with Soyo-san again after what she did. Ricky already made it clear that it’s between me or her, and… I’m not going back after that. If Soyo-san will be there, then I’ll stay away forever.”

Sakiko nodded slowly, rolling Anon’s words over in her mind. Anon almost wondered if she should have walked out, but her thoughts silenced themselves when Sakiko’s eyes narrowed. “I have an offer for you,” Sakiko started, almost unsure of the words she was speaking. “Do you still want to play in a band?”

Anon opened her mouth before pressing her lips together in a thin line. When she first came back to Japan, she was only interested in playing in a band for the sake of optics… But now, Anon knew there was more to it. While she was partially invested for the sake of not being left out, she legitimately enjoyed playing the guitar. It was hard, and Anon’s wounded fingers certainly hated her new hobby, but she doubted she would ever forget the feeling of standing onstage and playing music. Even if Anon couldn’t trust Soyo anymore, she knew that moment had changed her. She couldn’t let it go just because Soyo had been using her. 

“I do,” Anon confirmed, her heart skipping a beat. “I want to make music with my friends.” I want to be wanted. 

Sakiko’s features fell into a relaxed yet formal smile that sent electricity racing beneath Anon’s skin. “Meet me at the local park after classes end. We’ll talk more there.” With that, Sakiko breezed right past Anon, the scent of cherries lingering in the air long after the door closed in her wake. 

Anon stared after Sakiko for a few moments before she began to nod. The park after school? She could do that… Though she already knew she would spend the rest of the day thinking about what Sakiko was going to ask her once they arrived. 

~~~~~

Just as Anon had suspected, the rest of the day was consumed with musings about Sakiko’s question. From the way she phrased it, Anon almost thought Sakiko was forming a band of her own… But if that was the case, then why hadn’t Sakiko wanted to be in a recreation of CRYCHIC? Anon had seen her face in the videos Tomori and Soyo showed her. Sakiko really seemed to love it there. 

But she didn’t love it anymore, did she? Sakiko was the one who broke the band up to begin with. Anon was almost tempted to ask about it, but she doubted she would get an answer she liked, assuming Sakiko responded at all. Whatever Sakiko’s reasons were for leaving, they weren’t any of Anon’s business, and she wasn’t going to burn the last bridge she had left. 

Maybe Sakiko had chosen to leave because she knew what kind of person Soyo was. Sakiko had been confident in her conclusions about Soyo from the start, and Anon could see that driving the two of them apart. It didn’t sit perfectly, and it was far from an ideal explanation, but it was all Anon could think of. For now, it would have to do. 

Anon’s mind fell silent when she saw Sakiko approaching her where she stood near a pond at the edge of the park. “You came,” Sakiko greeted simply. 

Anon nodded. “What did you want to talk about?”

Sakiko stood beside Anon and looked into her reflection in the pool before her. Sakiko looked ethereal even in water, and Anon couldn’t help but feel like she was truly seeing Sakiko for the first time since they had met. “I’ve been working to form a band recently,” Sakiko began. “It’s a special project of mine, and… I’ve been recruiting members outside of school. I was wondering if perhaps you would be willing to play second guitar.”

Anon’s eyes went wide, and her heart skipped a beat. “Really?” Sakiko must have seen the way she played during the live show. Sakiko had to know Anon was still learning how to play… But she still wanted Anon around. Someone truly wanted Anon, and that was more than she could say for her previous band. 

“I was previously planning to have the vocalist play the guitar as well. She is used to doing both… But it would hardly hurt to split up the role,” Sakiko continued. “If you are interested… The position is yours. I can also assure you that no one will treat you the way Soyo-san did. I will make sure of it myself.” 

Anon was on the verge of replying yes, yes, a thousand times yes, but Sakiko silenced her by raising a hand. “If you want to join this band, then you must know… This is an arrangement for life. Do you swear to stand by me to the end? Do you vow to give your life to me?”

Anon stared as Sakiko’s hand stretched like it was waiting for her to shake it. Tomori had asked for the same condition when starting up the other band. Tomori and Sakiko truly had a lot in common… But somehow, there was a different layer beneath Sakiko’s requirement for an agreement. Anon couldn’t put a finger on it; she simply knew it was different from Tomori’s promise. 

Unlike the first time she was asked the question though, Anon knew what her answer was going to be. She could have dedicated her life to playing with Tomori, Soyo, and Taki, but she hadn’t wanted to. After all, it had only been about not feeling excluded back then. Now though… Anon knew this wasn’t a matter of trapping her for the rest of her life. This was her chance to make sure she was never excluded again. She would never again be an outsider in her own life. She would be wanted, and no one would ever ruin her. 

Soyo had not been deserving of her trust, but Anon knew Sakiko was.

And she knew this was where she was meant to be. 

“For life,” Anon agreed, accepting Sakiko’s hand and shaking it. “I promise.”

Sakiko’s smile shifted in an indescribable way. “Welcome then… To Ave Mujica.”

~~~~~

After Anon and Sakiko made their agreement in the park, Anon was briefed on all of the rules of being in Ave Mujica, Sakiko’s new band. She would be masked for all of their performances, and Anon couldn’t tell anyone she was involved with the project. Anon and Sakiko also would need to take care to ensure they were not seen together at school so no one grew suspicious of them. Anon would not be able to play in any other bands, and she would dedicate her time to learning all she could about the guitar for Ave Mujica. 

Anon was admittedly uncertain about the idea of there being rules like this for being in a band to begin with… But who was she to question it? Sakiko wouldn’t have made these choices without a reason, and Anon wasn’t going to push her on it. This was the chance Anon wanted all along. She wanted to have friends and to not be pushed aside. As long as she was in Ave Mujica, she would be wanted, and she could leave her history behind with a smile on her face. 

Anon couldn’t help but wish she could tell others about her involvement with Ave Mujica. She knew of Sakiko’s reasons for keeping the band a secret, but that did little to assuage Anon’s desperation to shout from the rooftops that she was involved with something new. Anon wanted Soyo to know that she had found a place at Sakiko’s side. It was petty vengeance, but Anon thought about it often. 

When her rage toward Soyo began to dim though, Anon found herself missing the band that would never be. If Soyo hadn’t snapped at them all for playing “Spring Sunlight,” they would probably still be together now. Anon would never forget that perfect moment of standing onstage with them… But she knew she could never return to it either. Soyo never meant for anything of value to happen between them. Anon wasn’t going to let the memory of who Soyo was not hold her back. Nostalgia couldn’t stop her as long as she had something greater to pursue. 

Anon and Tomori spoke very little at school after Anon’s meeting with Sakiko. No rules had been set about her needing to ignore Tomori, but Anon didn’t know if she would be able to look her old friend in the eyes. Tomori always seemed to want to say something to her, but Anon couldn’t talk to her again. She knew if she was going to slip up anywhere with keeping the secret of Ave Mujica, it was going to be with Tomori, and Anon couldn’t afford that. If she had to remain silent in order to keep the secret tight to her chest, then Anon would do it. 

Anon was still vaguely aware of Tomori’s activities after they stopped speaking. Tomori began to read poetry at RiNG, and many of their classmates had gone to see her shows. Raana of all people was supporting Tomori in her self-expression, and she frequently came to the shows to play guitar behind Tomori’s lyrics. Without Taki there to turn it all into song though, the lyrics remained as simple poetry, not that Tomori seemed to mind. 

Tomori wrote a lot of poetry instead of paying attention in class, and Anon saw her working on it over her shoulder most days. She was almost tempted to show up to one of Tomori’s live shows, but Anon knew she couldn’t do it. Once again, if anyone was going to get her to falter in her resolve to play with Sakiko, it would be Tomori. Anon couldn’t take that chance… Even as the idea of seeing Tomori perform again grew more and more tempting to her. 

When Anon looked at Tomori, she almost wished she hadn’t agreed to be in Ave Mujica… Almost. 

Anon sat on the roof of the school one day, looking out at the world below. In her breaks between classes, Anon sat there alone and played her guitar to make sure she knew all the notes to Ave Mujica’s music. It was more challenging than she was used to, but Anon was working on it. Her skills with the guitar had grown massively since she stopped having to put up with Taki’s constantly changing sheet music. Sakiko gave Anon only finalized versions of songs, and Anon put in the necessary work to learn them. 

Most days, it was a challenge to find time when no one would be on the rooftop. Today though, storm clouds brewed overhead, and rain seemed to be a guarantee. Anon appreciated the quiet. She didn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing her practicing if she knew no one would come onto the roof and risk getting wet. 

Well, almost no one. 

Tomori walked out onto the rooftop when Anon was halfway through her part on Ave Mujica’s first song. “Anon-chan?” Tomori whispered, and Anon clapped her hand across the strings to silence them. “What are you playing?”

“Nothing,” Anon replied a bit too quickly. She looked up slowly and found Tomori watching her with hurt bubbling up in her eyes. Anon tore her gaze away again as quickly as she could stand, and she began to gather her music to return it to her guitar case. “What do you need?”

“Play guitar. Perform live with me,” Tomori burst out as if she had been waiting a lifetime to say it. In a way, she had; over a month had passed since the live show and the band’s untimely breakup. Anon may have moved on, but Tomori clearly had not, and the pain was still written all over her face. 

Anon’s grip on her guitar went tight. “You don’t need me, do you?”

“I do!” Tomori cried out. “I need you, Anon-chan! If you’re not there, Anon-chan…” She shook her head, unable to stand the cruelty of the thought. “Play guitar!”

Anon stared down at the school grounds so she didn’t sneak a treacherous glance at Tomori’s teary eyes. “You already have a guitarist, don’t you?”

“You said, ‘Let’s do it together!’ About the band! To me!” Tomori went on, her tears slipping readily into her voice. 

“It’s not like I actually wanted to do it,” Anon muttered, trying to persuade herself more than Tomori. 

“Then why did you invite me?” Tomori asked. 

“What’s it matter?” Anon murmured, and some cavernous part of her broken heart yearned to hear Tomori’s lyrics again no matter how much they terrified her. 

“Anon-chan!” 

“It was all to look good!” Anon snapped back as she set her guitar down in its case. “All I ever wanted was for others to be impressed with me. I wanted to be wanted, but now…” She shook her head, doing her best to blink away the tears steadily threatening to overwhelm her eyes. “Forget it.”

Tomori looked down at Anon, clenching and releasing her fingers in cycles of fists and resolve. “Anon-chan, you were struggling with all your might. So was Soyo-chan. So was I. Because we’re all lost.” Tomori stepped toward Anon, and Anon stepped back. “Together… Let’s be lost together.”

Anon tilted her head back, and the first few drops of the storm splashed across her blisteringly hot cheeks. “I can’t,” she whispered. 

“Why not?” Tomori pleaded. 

“I joined another band, Tomori-chan,” Anon replied with a bit too much tension in her voice. For a moment, she didn’t care about the rules or regulations Sakiko had given her about Ave Mujica. It didn’t matter if saying she was in a band at all was considered wrong. It was all Anon could think to say, and it had nothing to do with the optics she had been playing when she first picked up the guitar. “I can’t play with you anymore.”

Tomori reeled back as if she had been struck, and Anon only looked at her out of the corner of her eye lest she crumble too. “Anon-chan, I…”

Anon flashed Tomori a smile and pretended it wasn’t the only shield she could think to throw up around her heart. “I hope you have fun with Raana-chan. Enjoy your next show.” 

Anon took off in the briskest walk she could muster on shaking legs. She kept her head down for the rest of the day’s classes before running out of the school’s gates like the coward she knew she was. 

And as soon as she got home, Anon let the tears fall, and she wondered how someone so lost could have found a band with as much direction as Ave Mujica. 

~~~~~

Tomori continued to sing. 

Anon wasn’t sure what possessed her to go to RiNG on one of the nights she knew Tomori would be performing, but she wandered in with the crowd with a frown on her face. Anon didn’t want to risk the previous live show repeating itself with her in Sakiko’s place, so she wore a jacket and pulled the hood up to hide the majority of her pink hair. She hated the idea of slinking through the shadows like this, but she hated the idea of facing Tomori even more. 

Since Anon had last heard the rumors, Taki had joined Tomori’s new band too. She wasn’t composing any music, but she played the drums as Raana offered her guitar’s melodies with a smile. Anon had never really understood Raana, and she couldn’t decide if she knew more or less about her than ever before as she watched the younger girl play her improvised music. All Anon really knew was that Raana was a better guitarist than her, and Tomori would be in good hands as long as she was around. 

Tomori looked ready to start her first poem, but she cut herself off when she looked through the crowd and caught a glimpse of someone in the sea of people. For a moment, Anon thought she had been caught, but Tomori glossed over her much to Anon’s relief. Instead, Tomori found Soyo standing near the back of the hall. Tomori jumped down from the stage, and the crowd parted so she could approach Soyo. Tomori took Soyo’s hand in hers and began to pull her toward the stage even as Soyo shouted that she was there to end this, not to be caught up in yet another performance. 

Anon struggled to push her rage down at the sight of Soyo. She didn’t know how Soyo could live with herself after what she had done… Though she supposed Soyo didn’t have much of a reason to feel bothered by it in the first place. Soyo had never meant to do anything with Anon or Raana beyond using them to keep the band together. It was hard for Soyo to feel bad for a person she had never cared for in the first place. 

Anon resisted the urge to glare as Soyo took her place on the stage. Tomori forced Soyo to ready her bass with a piercing, yearning look, and Soyo relented as Raana began to play. Soyo was there to destroy the band once and for all, wasn’t she? That was what she meant by coming there to end this… But there she was anyway, being pulled into playing with Tomori once again. Soyo didn’t fight Tomori as hard as she should have, and Anon already knew why. Soyo loved playing with the band no matter how little she wanted to admit it. 

No… Soyo loved playing with Tomori and Taki. Raana may as well have not been there as far as Soyo cared. Raana was just a replacement for Mutsumi as far as Soyo was concerned. Once Soyo was able to talk Sakiko and Mutsumi into joining the band again, Raana would be gone, and the stray cat of RiNG would go right back to searching and listening for a place to spend time with ‘interesting women.’ 

But Soyo didn’t know that Sakiko and Mutsumi were planning another project. It wasn’t just that the two rejected the idea of returning to CRYCHIC; they were in another band entirely, and they wouldn’t be speaking a word of it to Soyo until the time was right. Would the time ever be right in the first place? Given the strict rules of secrecy Sakiko had shared with her new bandmates, Anon doubted it. Soyo would find out on her own, Anon was sure, and she had no idea how to expect her to react. 

Today, Soyo was far harsher than she ever had been previously. Soyo had nothing to hide anymore, and she was perfectly content to let her resentment bubble to the surface. Soyo had tried to tear the band apart on countless occasions, to reshape it in the image of her ideals, and everyone knew it now. Anon hated just how easily Soyo let her hatred show there on the stage, and she deliberately stared at the ground so she wouldn’t be tempted to watch Soyo. All it would do was hurt her, and Anon had already been hurt more than enough by Soyo. 

“Utakotoba” was a beautiful song, and Anon found herself unable to stare at the ground as she heard Tomori’s voice begin to catch on itself. When she looked up, she saw Tomori had started to cry, and Taki and Soyo had followed suit. Raana was the only one without tears on her face, and she wore a thrilled smile instead. Raana had known this was coming all along, hadn’t she? Sakiko had calculated the strength of Soyo’s resentment from the beginning, and Raana had figured out how to bring her band together again. 

Almost. 

As Anon watched Soyo sob her way through “Utakotoba,” she felt something in her heart pull itself taut. Could she have been friends with Soyo if she gave her a second chance? Soyo had come to the livehouse and played with the rest of the band. She had been persuaded to not end this when she saw the need for love and friendship on Tomori’s face. They would have all been together if Anon had not already dedicated herself to Ave Mujica. 

This was why Anon shouldn’t have come. She knew she was going to start thinking about this the instant she saw Tomori sing, and she was right. Anon knew the band wasn’t perfect, but it had been hers, and she missed it… But she knew she couldn’t look Soyo in the eyes ever again. Sakiko had been right to warn her not to trust Soyo, and Anon knew it. Anon was better off with Ave Mujica, with a group that would never hurt her the way Soyo had. She would be safer there. She was wanted there, and she didn’t need to chase after Soyo’s changed heart to find a place to belong. 

Anon left RiNG before Tomori, Taki, Soyo, and Raana could walk off the stage. She kept her head down the whole walk home, the lyrics of “Utakotoba” ringing in her ears. Tomori was right; they were all lost, and even after settling down with Ave Mujica, Anon still felt lost. She didn’t know if she would ever feel found again. 

No… She couldn’t think that way. Anon knew where she was supposed to be. She couldn’t back out of her promise with Sakiko. She needed to stay with Ave Mujica. She would play the guitar, and she would be wanted just as she had always dreamed. No one would use her as a pawn ever again. She wouldn’t just be human glue anymore. She would be Anon. She would be wanted. She would be needed. 

But as Anon sat down on the couch in her room with fresh tears in her eyes, she knew all she wanted to be now was lost. 

~~~~~

Perhaps against her better judgement, Anon remained tuned in to everything Tomori and the rest of the band were up to. The other four had all made up after their show together, though Anon didn’t know how they were comfortable with that. Anon was especially curious about Raana; she had been just another pawn in Soyo’s game, but she was staying with the band anyway. Then again, Anon didn’t know how to understand Raana, and she wasn’t about to start now either. If Raana wanted to stay, then she could. It was no skin off Anon’s back. 

Anon could feel Tomori watching her out of the corner of her eye each day at school. Tomori clearly wanted to ask Anon again if she would be able to join the band even though she already knew what the answer would be. Anon had promised to only be in one band when she joined Ave Mujica, and she couldn’t go against that vow. Their first show was fast approaching, and Anon wasn’t about to ruin it prematurely. Tomori could miss Anon all she wanted, but that wouldn’t change the promise Anon had made to Sakiko. 

Against her better judgement, Anon remained in the group chat with her old band. The others stopped sending messages there after realizing Anon would not be joining them again, but Anon stayed in the text group. Every once in a while, she would pull her phone out and read through every message she had ever sent. She almost claimed to miss it, but she couldn’t let her grief consume her. She had Ave Mujica now, and her old band didn’t matter when placed against her new vow to never be forgotten or cast aside again.

Sometimes, Anon had to wonder what Tomori, Taki, and Soyo would think of her for being in a band with Sakiko when they couldn’t even get their old friend to text them back. Soyo clearly cared more about Sakiko’s opinion than she ever had Anon’s, and she would probably seethe with jealousy at hearing Anon of all people was chosen to join Ave Mujica. Taki and Sakiko hadn’t ever seemed particularly close, but she would likely still have a few choice words for Anon given what she wound up doing. 

As for Tomori… Anon found herself trying to not think about Tomori whenever she could. Tomori had been her first true friend after she returned to Japan, and Anon hated the way everything had ended. Anon couldn’t stomach looking Soyo in the eyes anymore, but she wished Tomori hadn’t been caught up in the middle of it. She liked to think she and Tomori could have still been friends. They sat together in class each day like their conversation on the rooftop never happened, and Anon pretended to not notice the way Tomori almost started to cry when she looked over her shoulder at her former friend. 

Sakiko had meant a lot to Tomori. Anon had seen it for herself from the videos she saw of CRYCHIC all together… But Sakiko never even spared Tomori so much as a glance these days. Sakiko went right on with ignoring her old friends, and in doing so, widening the rift between them. Tomori never would have made it this far without Sakiko, but Sakiko never rose to the bait of expressing her affection. Tomori tried to talk to Sakiko a few times anyway, but it ended the same way it always had: with soft pleading met by stony silence. 

Anon couldn’t help but wonder just what had happened between Sakiko and the rest of CRYCHIC. Sakiko had quit the band seemingly out of the blue, and Anon still knew next to nothing about her reasoning for it. Anon could have tried to press Sakiko for the truth, but she doubted it would have taken her anywhere productive. Sakiko didn’t want to talk about it, and Anon wouldn’t be able to persuade her to open up. If anyone stood a chance at doing that, it was Tomori, and Sakiko refused to speak with Tomori at all. She didn’t even like looking at her for longer than was absolutely necessary. What chance did Anon stand in pulling the truth from Sakiko’s lips?

Anon heard about Tomori’s band’s plans and shows even without asking Tomori directly. They had finally come up with a name for their band: Maigo. They were set to play a live show soon to fill the gap of Tomori’s past reservations for her regular poetry reading. Anon wondered what they were doing about costumes, but after the show ended, she would learn they wound up not bothering. No one seemed to care much for aesthetics, and without Anon there to push it, they simply took to the stage in their regular clothes. 

The day after the show, Anon sat behind Tomori in class, fighting to keep her gaze even. Ave Mujica’s first performance was fast approaching, and she still didn’t know how to respond to Tomori’s concerns about her own band. Anon stared at Tomori for a long moment, waiting to see if she would say anything first, but she never did. In the end, Anon offered Tomori a smile and pretended it didn’t burn at her cheeks like poison. “I heard you played live again last night,” Anon started. “I hope it went well.”

Tomori jolted like she had been electrocuted, and she turned slowly to face Anon with a small smile on her face. “It did,” Tomori confirmed. After a moment’s hesitation, Tomori’s gaze grew sad. “It wasn’t the same without you, Anon-chan.”

Anon’s chest went tight. “I’m sorry.” She wanted to find a way to justify herself or otherwise reassure Tomori that this wasn’t personal, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. Anon had chosen a different path, and it was one Tomori would come to resent her for, she was sure. Beyond that, this was personal; it was simply personal with Soyo and not Tomori. “My other band is already taking up so much of my time, and–”

“I understand,” Tomori assured her. She offered Anon a smile that strained her entire face. “If you and your band ever decide to play live… I would love to come and see you.” Even if it won’t fill the hole in my heart by not having you with the rest of us. 

Anon felt her features relax into a smile. She knew Ave Mujica would never play live in a way that Tomori would be able to see, but she still appreciated the offer. Somehow, it was a blanket on her nerves, a reminder that she would never be lost on her own so long as Tomori was there. Whether they were in the same band or not, Tomori had done a lot for Anon, and she wished she could even begin to repay the favor. “I’ll be sure to tell you if we do.”

Tomori nodded, trying to feel reassured by Anon’s promise but ultimately falling short. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

~~~~~

Over the years, Anon had come to know a lot about makeup. 

In middle school, Anon had been shown how to apply it by girls with older sisters who had taught them the art first. After that, Anon had taken to watching videos in her free time to make sure her technique was as refined as possible. The best way to impress people was to meet them on the ground they were interested in, and makeup felt like a perfect path to making friends. 

Anon hadn’t done as much makeup since she came back to Japan, but she did it often enough to make sure she didn’t get rusty. She was going to need to know how to apply it so long as she was in a band, after all. Her mask for Ave Mujica would cover up one half of her face, so Anon would simply need to make sure her other eye and cheek shone perfectly beneath the stage lights. She practiced her application process countless times before a mirror, smiling with satisfaction each time she finished. She was going to look perfect when the first show finally came. She would make sure of it. 

And soon enough, the day arrived. For the first time since middle school, Anon was going to put makeup on with a group of her peers instead of alone in front of her bathroom mirror. The entire band was getting ready for their first show together, and it would be one of their first times truly enjoying one another’s company… Well, enjoying it as much as they could when they were still acting on business. Sakiko insisted they all remain serious about their performances, and the last thing Anon wanted to do was somehow violate the vow she had made with her savior from isolation. If stoicism was part of Ave Mujica’s brand, then Anon was fine with that. 

If it went hand in hand with being wanted, then Anon was fine with doing anything she needed to. 

Ave Mujica was not set to perform live in the traditional sense. They would be recording their shows and broadcasting them online, but there would not be an audience there to watch them in person. Sakiko claimed that was too great of a risk for them to take after all the effort they had gone to in order to keep this quiet. Anon understood it perfectly, though there was a not insignificant part of her that wished she could flaunt this the way she had always wanted to boast about being in a band. 

But optics didn’t matter anymore. She was where she belonged, and Anon could at least take pride in that. 

Anon had hung out with the other members of Ave Mujica a few times, but they had only come all together once or twice. Sakiko had only recently recruited their drummer, Nyamu, to join the band, so Anon was the least familiar with her… In a way. Anon still couldn’t believe Sakiko had gotten one of her favorite vloggers to join the band as their drummer. Sakiko had really pulled in all the favors she could in order to make sure Ave Mujica was perfect, and that included inviting literal celebrities to join them. 

Nyamu was impressive enough on her own, but Uika was something else. Anon had been a fan of Sumimi for a long time, and she had dreamed about what it would be like to meet the two girls behind the performance in person… But she had never imagined it would actually happen. Uika was the singer Sakiko had mentioned when she first recruited Anon to join the band. Uika was the one who would have been playing second guitar if not for Anon being invited into Ave Mujica too. To say it was overwhelming was a massive understatement, but Anon had made it this far. Who was she to back down in the face of the challenge when she had been invited to join the band too? She had earned her place every bit as much as Uika, Nyamu, and anyone else.

Umiri was another shocking face to see, albeit for an entirely different reason. Taki and Umiri were friends from school. Taki had even invited Umiri to play bass for their band after realizing Soyo wouldn’t be returning following the initial breakup. Umiri had seemed nice enough during that rehearsal, though Anon hadn’t thought they would be seeing a lot more of each other once that single practice ended. She couldn't have possibly been more wrong though, and Ave Mujica had proven it. 

Last but not least, there was Mutsumi. Anon was entirely unsurprised to see Mutsumi in Ave Mujica since she and Sakiko seemed so much closer than any other members of CRYCHIC. Sakiko had cut off the rest of her old band, but she still wanted to be near Mutsumi. Anon didn’t know what bond the two shared, but she knew it was something she probably shouldn’t pry into. Anything related to CRYCHIC was off-limits to Sakiko, and Anon could only assume that extended to Mutsumi too. 

Anon did her best to ignore her deep and growing curiosity as she got ready for the first show. As tempting as it was to ask why everything with CRYCHIC had ended the way it did, Anon knew it wouldn’t win her any favors with Sakiko or Mutsumi. Besides, this wasn’t about CRYCHIC anymore. Ave Mujica was something new and fresh, and Anon was there for a reason. She hadn’t been part of CRYCHIC, but she had still been invited to join Sakiko’s new project. How could she squander an honor like that?

Anon hesitated in front of the mirror for a long moment once her makeup was finished. All that remained was for her to put her mask on once she arrived downstairs. She hadn’t ever donned it before even though Sakiko had told her she would be wearing a mask many times before. Today would be her first time ever seeing it in person, and the thought sent adrenaline racing beneath Anon’s skin. Somehow, putting the mask on felt like tipping into something unpredictable and foreign. Anon wasn’t going to be herself once she began to wear it. 

No… She would be Temporis. 

Sakiko had gone very in-depth with coming up with a story for Ave Mujica. They were playing discarded dolls who had been cast aside by both their owners and the world. Each of them was named after something they were meant to not fear. For Anon, her name would be Temporis, the doll unafraid of time. Anon knew Sakiko had chosen the name for her for a reason, but it unsettled her in a way she couldn’t quite describe. Perhaps that was the point. 

For as long as she could remember, Anon had been pursuing the attention of others. It was all she had ever wanted. In middle school, she had everything. She was popular, surrounded by friends, and admired by all. She could have done anything with her life… But all of that had crumbled when she left for England. Anon had tried to prove herself, to show that she just needed a bit more time to find her place, but it had all failed in the end. She could never recapture the high of her glory days nor could she stop thinking about how pathetic it was that she had peaked in middle school. She could never reverse the clock once it took her away to an unknown horizon.

Even after she returned to Japan, Anon struggled to make friends. She realized in hindsight that none of her middle school friendships were as honest as she wanted people to think. She hadn’t ever gone by the name she preferred. Chihaya had become a character in herself, and Anon could never live up to the shadow she had left behind. No matter how much time passed, Anon failed to fill the gap Chihaya had imprinted upon others’ memories when she left for England. 

Looking back now, Anon wished time would have stood still when she was in middle school. False connections without any depth were preferable to having none at all… Or so she believed. Time had revealed the ugliness of Soyo Nagasaki, and it had proven to Anon once again that she was alone. Perhaps falsity wasn’t better than isolation. Maybe there wasn’t a difference at all. It didn’t seem like there ever had been. 

All Anon knew was that she was tired of feeling lonely, and if she could have unwound the clock to find some peace, then she would have in a heartbeat… But she didn’t need to anymore. She had Sakiko now… Even if Anon couldn’t openly spend time with her new friend and risk being caught by Tomori. 

Sakiko had chosen her name correctly. Temporis may not have feared time, but Anon knew with miserable certainty that she did. 

Anon let out a thin breath before her mirror in the dressing room, and despite her best efforts to remind herself to smile, she couldn’t seem to find the strength. But it didn’t matter anymore. This was the start of something greater than she had ever imagined, and Anon was ready for it. 

As ready as a person could be. 

~~~~~

The entire group went downstairs to meet Sakiko near the stage. A stagehand was darting away to prepare for the performance to come as Uika waved at Sakiko with a smile. Sakiko, however, did not return the favor and instead gestured to the nearby table where six mannequin heads sat wearing a mask each. “Everyone, don’t forget these.”

Anon didn’t think she could have forgotten her mask even if she tried. Her heart raced as she reached out for it, and her life as Anon Chihaya seemed to fade away between her fingers. This was it. This was the birth of Temporis, and she was ready for it. 

“Feelings of impatience or regret… Leave them all here,” Sakiko began as everyone slid their masks onto their faces. “Once you’re onstage, the only thing you can believe in is yourself.” Sakiko’s eyes hardened. “I won’t spout platitudes like, ‘Let’s all have fun.’ After all, in the end, we’re just badgers in the same hole.”

“Badgers?” Uika echoed with wide eyes. 

“Do you mean that we’re all accomplices in this?” Umiri asked. 

“That’s crazy,” Nyamu laughed. 

“We’re in this together,” Anon replied simply. 

“Now, let us go.” Sakiko pressed her hand over her chest in a fist, and the rest of the band followed suit. They closed their eyes and put their hands into the middle of the circle. “Ave Mujica.”

~~~~~

“Alas my love you do me wrong 

To cast me off discourteously; 

For I have loved you so long, 

Delighting in your company.”

Doloris sat at the center of the stage as she sang, her eyes closed in some distant concern she would never express to another. Oblivionis and Mortis approached from the back corner of the stage, and Oblivionis looked at the singing doll with a smile. “You’re very good at singing.”

Doloris was on her feet in an instant, pressing her hands against her chest. She offered Oblivionis and Mortis a weak smile in return for the praise. “It’s a song my friend likes.”

“I see,” Oblivionis said with short dignity. “You’re going to the masquerade, aren’t you?”

Mortis turned her head ever so slightly in Oblivionis’ direction. “Onee-sama…”

Oblivionis looked up at the sky overhead. “This isn’t good. The moon is already…” The stage went black save for the shining light of a silver crescent moon, and Oblivionis and Mortis vanished in an instant. 

Doloris gasped upon realizing she was alone. “Wait!” she cried out, running off into the darkness. Moments later, the light of the moon had vanished from the sky above her as well, and she was gone. 

~~~~~

Timoris had a small clock in hand as she paced the length of the stage. Amoris sat in an elaborate chair resting beside a table in the center of the stage, admiring her reflection with a vain smile. Mortis sat perfectly still in another seat as Oblivionis brushed through her hair with a golden comb. There was no point in brushing it though; Mortis’ hair was already perfect, and everyone knew it.

Temporis looked up at the sky with a frown on her face, leaning her weight onto the table behind her. The more she thought about this, the less it felt real. This was it. The first performance was upon her, and she could hardly wait. All she had been working toward was about to come true. Doll or not, she would have a place to belong. It was so close she could taste it. 

A spotlight fell upon Doloris as she peered through a few deep red curtains. “What is this place?” she asked as she began to wander across the stage. 

Amoris saw Doloris walking behind her in the mirror, and her smile grew mischievous. “What’s this? It seems we have another new face.”

As Doloris walked by Timoris, the dark-haired doll narrowed her eyes. “She still carries a faint trace of the scent of humanity.”

“It won’t last for long,” Temporis hummed as she pushed away from the table and approached Doloris. 

Amoris set ginger fingers on Doloris’ shoulder, her eyes gleaming smugly. “Until last night, they held you in their arms as you fell asleep, but tonight, they’re holding someone else. Humans are cruel.” Amoris curled her hand around Doloris’ cheek, and Doloris froze as she looked into her eyes. “Say, shall I hold you instead?”

“Stop that,” Oblivionis instructed, not even looking up from where she was combing Mortis’ hair. 

“But…” Amoris tried to protest. 

“If she still smells of humanity, there will be no one to receive her,” Timoris said.

“Oh dear, but that puts us in a bind!” Amoris cried. 

“Receive me?” Doloris echoed, still refusing to move from where Amoris was cradling her cheek. 

“Oh, but isn’t that why you came here?” Oblivionis asked. 

“What?” Doloris squeaked. 

“This place, you see, is where dolls that have been discarded by humans have gathered,” Amoris explained, clearly enjoying every second of Doloris chasing her chilling touch. 

“Discarded… Dolls?” Doloris whispered. 

“Oh, are you the type who has no self-awareness?” Timoris questioned. 

“Yes, that type!” Temporis chimed in. “The ones spoken to by humans, and so they think they’re the same.”

“You’re saying that I’m a doll?” Doloris burst out, finally pulling away from Amoris’ fingers. “But I’m alive! So are all of you!”

“That’s because the moon tonight is a special one,” Oblivionis explained, looking up to meet Doloris’ gaze for the first time. “Welcome to the loft moon. Under the light of this moon, we take on a fleeting moment of life within us.”

Doloris reached a shaking hand up to the moon where it shone through the tall windows. “But that’s… I don’t believe you.”

“What is your name?” Oblivionis asked as she set the comb aside and approached Doloris. 

“I’m…” Doloris tried to reply quickly, but her words failed her the instant she thought about it for a moment. 

“You don’t remember?” Oblivionis realized, and Doloris stared at the ground to avoid meeting any of the other dolls’ eyes. “Then who was your former owner? Oh, not owner. Friend, wasn’t it?”

“It seems they haven’t called your name in quite a long while,” Timoris hummed. 

“It’s better not to force yourself to remember,” Oblivionis said. “They’re likely to curse you to death if you do.”

“They wouldn’t!” Doloris burst out. 

“You can’t say that for certain,” Temporis pointed out. 

“But they loved me so much!” Doloris protested. 

“But they threw you away, didn’t they?” Amoris challenged, and when Doloris began to falter, Amoris began to laugh tinnily. 

“Do you know what death is for a doll?” Oblivionis asked. 

“To be thrown away,” Doloris guessed slowly. 

“To be burned,” Amoris grinned. 

“That’s witches,” Timoris scolded. 

“To not be loved,” Mortis answered, speaking up for the first time since the conversation began. 

“Yes, that one is death,” Oblivionis confirmed as she ran her slender fingers through Mortis’ hair. “But the most painful death… Is to be forgotten completely!”

“Am I dead?” Doloris whispered fearfully. “Is this place our grave?”

“No. I told you, didn’t I?” Oblivionis began to walk down the stairs at the front of the stage. “We have a brief spark of life within us. We are resurrected! This is the moment we regain our rights!”

“And we wish our new friends every happiness,” Mortis finished, her voice quiet and lacking in any of the passion Oblivionis embodied so effortlessly. Mortis began to walk toward her instrument–a guitar–and the rest of the dolls followed her lead. 

“Now, before the masquerade begins, I will bestow temporary names upon us,” Oblivionis declared, turning first to Mortis. “Mortis.”

“I do not fear death,” Mortis whispered as she picked up her guitar. 

“Timoris.”

“I do not fear being afraid,” Timoris announced as she readied her bass. 

“Amoris.”

“I do not fear love,” Amoris smiled as she sat behind her drumset. 

“Temporis.”

Temporis’ heart raced as she gripped tightly at her guitar. “I do not fear the passage of time.”

“Oblivionis.” Oblivionis sunk into a curtsey before taking her place behind her keyboard. “I do not fear being forgotten.”

Last but not least, Oblivionis gestured grandly to Doloris. “Doloris!”

Doloris took her place behind the microphone, and her eyes narrowed with steely determination. “I do not fear sorrow.”

The first notes of the song echoed across the stage. 

“Welcome to Ave Mujica’s world.”