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DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Sun Igarashi (Played by Kusanagi Nene): A Japanese-American high school student who desperately wants to fit in. Sun is the class president, known as an overachiever, a people pleaser, and our main protagonist.
August Valencia (Played by Kamishiro Rui): A first-generation Filipino immigrant, who is the only one who sees through Sun’s act whilst looking out for her. Often cheerful and frustratingly charming.
Arden Booker (Played by Ootori Emu)
Oliver Follmuth (Played by Tenma Tsukasa)
PROLOGUE
Backstage
ㅤEnter SUN, shaking as she prepares to enter stage
SUN
ㅤ(Taking a deep breath) Okay, I can do this. Definitely. It’s just one valedictorian speech. I’ve done plenty of these already, right? (Pausing) This is only a speech. So why am I so nervous?
ㅤEnter AUGUST
AUGUST
ㅤHey, Sun? Everyone’s waiting. Is something— (Noticing SUN shaking, he rushes to her side) Sun? Sun. I’m here, I’m here. Breathe with me, will you? (AUGUST makes an example and helps SUN relax) There you are. What’s up?
SUN
ㅤ(Regaining her breath) I don’t know… This hasn’t happened before, I… I feel like…
AUGUST
ㅤLike?
SUN
ㅤLike… (Her eyes widen, and she suddenly stands straight, proper) N-No. I have to push through.
AUGUST
ㅤWhat? Hold on, Sun—
SUN
ㅤThank you, August. But I have to—I need to do this. It’s my responsibility.
AUGUST
ㅤBut… (He pauses) If you insist.
Exeunt Sun with a curt nod
AUGUST
ㅤ…One of these days, Sun, you’ll end up hurting yourself more than you do others.
Exeunt
The mixed murmurs and chatter of the crowd overwhelmed Nene’s senses. She couldn’t understand or pinpoint it, but there was something different in the air, and Nene felt her heart sinking lower by the ticking seconds.
No matter. This was the final scene, and she had only a few lines remaining. All she needed to do was act her way through, take her bow, and then it was curtain call. Nothing she hasn’t already done before.
Nevermind the faint shake in her legs, or how she can hardly feel her hands move. This needed to be done.
She began to run through the script in her head, murmuring the words out, imagining the eyes of the audience boring into her like nails. But, no matter her focus, her mind was crowded with spirals of thoughts crammed into a confined space.
They’re all waiting for you to come out… You can’t disappoint them. Not again. Why is this happening today of all days? I… I’ve never been this shaky… Stop. Get yourself together.
She was taking too long. It was time for her closing monologue, and then it would finally be over.
So she took a deep breath and entered the stage.
She stood in the middle of Sun’s now-cluttered bedroom. What used to be a neatly organized (practically) stationary store was reduced to a dropped journal with tear stains, scattered pens, and an unfixed bed. Nene stared at the audience, observing their glowing faces in the moonlight. The anticipation. The hope Nene knew she’d destroy. In the front row, an empty, reserved seat stole her attention, causing her to bite her lip with a tremble. Nene gulped and started.
“My name is Sunny Igarashi.”
SUN
ㅤ…And I am anything but perfect. I don’t understand how it happened, but to this day, I can confidently admit that I’ve been taking things easier. Though I lost my spot in my dream university, I still had a lot more acceptance letters from other Ivy Leagues. I can say “no” to meaningless requests. I can face rejection and judgment. And I finally feel like myself for once. (Looking down at her journal, she picks it up) Nobody ever saw me… I was merely the perfect class president and valedictorian to them—The pushover, the doormat. And, I guess, for some time, I stopped recognizing the face I saw in the mirror. But I stand here today as myself. Unapologetically. A-As… As I… M—
NENE?
ㅤI stand here… as… N-No, today… as… as…! (As she chokes on her words, she struggles until she faints, hitting the stage floor)
Exeunt omnes
♫彡*:･ﾟ✧
THE NEXT DAY
Instead of the cluttered room of Sun Igarashi, Nene awoke in her own bedroom instead. She muttered a dazed ugh, gazing at the ceiling as if arising from a deep slumber. Her body felt lighter than usual, almost balloon-like, cloudy and hazy.
It took her a good minute until she realized what transpired last night. How she stumbled on the final monologue and fainted right after. At that moment, the blanket seemed like a good place to hibernate for the rest of her life, never to reemerge.
Thinking back on it, Nene couldn’t say there wasn’t any specific cause to her panic, just small, overwhelming pieces that piled until they all tumbled as messy stacks usually do. Sure, she was nervous. That was normal. She was always nervous, but that empty seat… That empty seat worried her.
It was reserved for the author of the play they were performing. They never often had this chance—most plays they did were either classics from long-dead playwrights or original works. Was she disappointed in their production? Did something come up? Nene grasped at straws but couldn’t draw conclusions, so she gave it up with a dejected sigh.
“Stop it.” Nene shook her head. “There’s no use in thinking about this.”
She kicked off the blanket and noticed she was still in her stage clothes. Guess whoever brought her back must’ve left immediately.
Rui?
Nene blushed at the thought and tossed it away like a ticking bomb.
She needed to leave her room. Her parents must know what happened by now—after all, how in the world did she get home? They would ask her how the performance went with awkward faces as if they didn’t know exactly what happened. Then Nene would have to try her best not to cry as she explained. Perfect start to her day.
Let’s just get this over with already…
After changing out of her stage clothes, Nene checked her phone for the time. 6:48 AM, it read. Her parents would be almost ready to leave for work, and knowing the performance was until ten, that meant she’d been asleep for about eight hours.
In her lock screen, concerned messages crowded the whole screen. Nene gulped. Quite a lot from the WxS group chat, too. She tried turning her phone on by thumbprint, but it didn’t register. Again. Nothing. Fine, she’ll just unlock it through password.
…
Why wouldn’t her phone register her touch? No matter how furiously she tapped at the screen, nothing happened. It turned off automatically after half a minute of inactivity. She could turn it back on and off by pressing the power button, but the screen was completely busted. She sighed and shoved it in her pocket. Another sigh.
An eerie chill passed over her skin in waves. Nene ignored the feeling.
She sauntered out of her room, careful not to make much noise, silently hoping her parents had left. From there, she could make a bare sandwich for breakfast and rot the rest of the day away in her room, avoiding everyone.
But as she drew closer to the dining room, she began to hear the hushed whispers of her parents. She breathed. Okay, no, she’s got this. Definitely.
Inside, her mom was leaning against the fridge, a mug of steaming coffee in one hand, the other holding herself up on the counter. Her father sat at the table, having just finished his breakfast.
“Do you think she’s already at Phoenix?” her mom asked, stirring the mug with a spoon.
Nene’s dad shrugged. “Maybe. I haven’t seen her all day.”
The girl in question raised a brow. Did they not notice her yet? She tried coughing into her fist to raise their attention, but drew no response.
“Well, she isn’t answering her phone.” Nene’s mom slumped against the counter, stuck between concern and anger. “I swear, when that girl gets back…”
Nene inhaled sharply. What were her parents talking about? She was right there. “Mom? Dad? Hello?” she spoke, yet they never spared her a single glance. Her mom took a sip from her mug while her dad began checking his schedule on his phone.
If this was some elaborate prank or attempt to cheer her up after last night, then it was in rather poor taste. Very ironic, poor taste.
Confused and annoyed, Nene turned and headed back to take a shower. If they want to ignore her—for whatever reason that was—so be it. They’ll be leaving for work anyway. Nene had other problems to focus on.
♫彡*:･ﾟ✧
At Phoenix Wonderland, her stomach churned again—not due to the overwhelming screams of parkgoers and the sickeningly sweet scents of the distant snack booths. It was pure dread.
As she walked through the park, her eyes flickered around, worrying if she’d find one of the audience members from yesterday. She didn’t want to see that familiar look—the disappointment, the pity. Surely nobody sane would come to a theme park at night only to return the following morning? Right? Phoenix certainly wasn’t Disney with hotels inside the park.
She checked her phone for the time again. 7:32 AM. Just a little over nine hours since the incident. She scanned and pored over the unanswered messages as she clutched her stomach. Hopefully, she can explain herself to WxS. But what would they say? Would they be disappointed too? Nene was definitely disappointed in herself, if they weren’t. She’d drown in the feeling. After all, she ruined the show after weeks of preparation and practice.
The sun was too bright today. Nene hated how cheery the day was with perfect, cool weather. Not even a cloud in the pristine-blue sky. After that disaster, Nene felt like a typhoon barreling through and causing havoc wherever she went.
The dread in her gut returned once she spotted the Wonder Stage in the distance.
From where she stood, Nene could see a blur of yellow and pink already on the stage, earlier than usual. She hid behind a bush, wanting to observe them for a bit before she approached them, just to make sure they weren’t mad. She can formulate a response afterwards.
Though she was far from normal hearing range, she supposed that with Tsukasa and Emu’s regular volume, she could hear them from the park’s entrance if she focused hard enough.
In a dizzying circle, Tsukasa paced like an unctrollable remote-controlled car. Emu was bouncing in place—which, usually, was a good sign, but the pinch in her brows suggested otherwise.
The weirdest thing, though, was Rui’s absence. He definitely should be here by now, knowing how he’d chide her for her punctuality.
“She hasn’t responded to any of our messages yet…” Emu said.
Tsukasa stopped in place. “You don’t think she’s taking it too hard, do you? I mean, she just started stuttering and then flat out fainted!”
“S-Surely she’s just resting! Has Rui answered?”
Tsukasa shook his head. “No, but he did say he’d stop by her house to check.”
Weird, Nene thought. I haven’t seen or heard from him all day…
Nene realized that she was hiding behind a bush, eavesdropping like some creep—a miracle a security guard hadn’t stopped her by now for suspicious behavior. Though both her body and mind were against the idea, she gulped down any residual hesitations and resolved to approach them—already formulating an apology in her head—Nene was pulled back by a warm hand on her noticeably cold skin.
Turning around, she was met face-to-face with the enigma himself, Rui Kamishiro.
“Nene,” he muttered, breathless. Nene could see it from this close—stray strands of hair sticking to his sweat-slick forehead, covering his concerned expression. “Where were you? I was looking everywhere. Your parents said they haven’t seen you since last night, so I thought you ran away…”
“Well…” she began, heart hammering, “I’m right here?”
He sighed and let go of her, the thumping beginning to subside. “Seriously, Nene. I was worried for you.”
“S-Sorry. My phone wasn’t working, and today felt… off. I don’t know, but something just feels strange. Especially after last night.”
“We can talk it over with the troupe, if that’s alright.” Rui made a move to leave, but waited for Nene to follow.
“Um. Right. Sure.”
Nene could feel her ears ringing, her surroundings begging to blank and blur around her like some anxious premonition of what’s to come. Maybe it was pure irrationality. Maybe not. Her accelerating heartbeat said one thing, but her common sense was saying another. But the weird, ever-stacking events from last night to this morning convinced her maybe she wasn’t crazy. Or not as crazy as she thought she was being.
Then at least she can say I told you so to that grating, tiny voice in her head. But, in this scenario, being proven right might not be so appealing.
Once they reached the stage, the two looked relieved to see Rui, though there was still an undercurrent of uneasiness in their stances and tone.
“Ah, Rui,” said Tsukasa, coming up to the purple boy. “Have you seen Nene? Has she answered any of your messages? We tried calling her, but—”
“Wait, what are you talking about?” Rui asked, an unfamiliar edge to his voice. “She’s right here?” He pointed to her. Nene waved awkwardly, thinking this ought to be the most elaborate prank ever.
Tsukasa blinked. “Rui, there’s no one there.”
“T-Tsukasa’s right,” Emu confirmed, her voice shaking in a way that was all too realistic. They weren’t joking.
Nene felt her head start to spin. If everyone around her was a part of some kind of prank, then damn, their performances were good.
“That… No way. Come here. Touch her,” Rui said.
“Alright…?” Tsukasa hesitated, but obliged. He approached the spot where Nene allegedly was and reached his hand out to her.
Without much thought, Nene grabbed his forearm. Tsukasa screamed like he was touched by a blizzard. “Gah!” He exclaimed as he stumbled backwards, landing on his butt.
The rest stared in pure shock and disbelief. Especially Nene, who stood there, staring at her hands as if she were actively fading away. So she truly was…
That would explain everything, then—her parents, how light she felt, but why was Rui the only one able to see her? She didn’t want to believe she had actually turned invisible. That’s pure fiction—literally! That’s exactly what happened to the character she played!
Rui shook his head, hand on his chin in thought. “I don’t understand… How did this happen? Why am I the only one who can perceive her?” He turned to Nene. “After I brought you home last night, did anything peculiar happen this morning?”
Ah. So he was the one who carried her and laid her on the bed… and who tucked her… Nene ignored the brewing tornado of butterflies in her stomach and focused on the question at hand. “W-Well, I woke up in my stage clothes. I checked my phone, but my screen wouldn’t respond to my touch. My parents also couldn’t see me. And everything feels… colder, somehow. Lighter.”
Rui nodded, attempting to solve an equation that quite possibly had no solution—some jargon composed of random letters, symbols, and numbers that he couldn’t make sense of. Nene felt like a science experiment under his calculating gaze. Only now did she realize how close he was… If she dared to inch closer, she could probably—
“R-Rui!” called Emu, stealing his attention. “T-This isn’t one of your inventions again, right?”
Rui shook his head, almost dreadfully. “I couldn’t replicate something similar to this, even if I tried.”
“So, what does this mean?” asked Tsukasa.
Everyone looked around without an answer.
“What do I do? What do I do… I…” Nene spoke to herself, voice heavy yet racing. “R-Rui, what if I’m stuck like this forever? What if… what if…”
“We’ll figure it out,” Rui reassured, parting her back. “There must be some explanation for this.”
Tsukasa scratched the back of his head, trying to decipher where Nene was. “I’m lost… what even happened? Is she talking?”
“To summarize,” explained Rui, “after Nene fainted last night, she turned invisible. Just like Sun.”
Emu wrung her hands together tightly. “H-How can we help her? Is Nene stuck like this forever?”
“I’m not sure…” Rui pondered, brows furrowing. Nene stared into nothingness, feeling as if she were already slowly losing herself. That was until Rui spoke again.
“I suppose our first step should be asking the original playwright of Spirit of Air. The events of the play are awfully similar, after all—the fainting in front of an audience, the invisibility—there’s surely a correlation.”
“Do you know where she lives?” asked Tsukasa.
“No, but I’m sure a quick Google search is enough.”
Pulling out his phone, Rui went on Google and searched for Yuuka Miyazaki, only to find… hardly anything of value.
She had no Wikipedia article or anything of note—just her Facebook page and an old article when Spirit of Air initially released. It was for her award for her contribution to the university.
“Did you find anything?” Nene asked tentatively.
“Nothing we already know,” said Rui. “She hasn’t done much since writing Spirit of Air.”
Nene sighed, then glanced at the sky. “Do we not have anything else?”
“Ah, actually… I don’t think I’ve shown this yet,” Rui said, tapping on his phone again.
Emu perked up in curiosity. “What is it?”
“Back when I was trying to get permission to perform Spirit of Air in Phoenix, I contacted the author through her work email. She responded only a few days later, and I lacked the mind to show this to any of you. Here.” Rui showed his phone screen for everyone to read.
I see. Well, if you wish to know some backstory, I may as well share what I never told the press.
I wrote the script when I was 18, in my first year of college. Playwriting had never been my passion, nor any semblance of creative writing, but there was always this ache inside me that I wanted to release. I was never a "writer", per se, but I had been fond of people watching and eavesdropping.
So, I wrote it into a play, without much experience. Just raw honesty.
It was never meant to go public. But when I was writing it, my only friend at the time, Augustus, suggested I should. He was an English major, so him complimenting my work had been the push to get it out there.
I showed it to his professor, and she loved it so much, she pulled some strings to have it performed at our university’s theater. The performance didn’t sell well, but a publisher picked it up to satisfactory sales. They stopped printing by the second run, but I was content enough. Spirit of Air was never meant to be a bestseller or on Broadway.
But getting an email like this, asking for the rights to perform it again decades later, I’m not sure how to feel. I haven’t thought much of Spirit of Air in years. Life’s been quiet since, so this came as a shock.
I’m not opposed to the idea, so I’ll send over the necessary paperwork soon. I hope that you have fun in the process.
Ah, sorry. I’ve been rambling a bit, haven’t I? My apologies. I wish the best for you kids.
Best regards,
Yuuka Miyazaki
“Her address is attached here at the end…” Nene said absentmindedly.
Rui hummed in confirmation. “It’s not too far from here, surprisingly. Do you mind walking?”
Yes, but Nene didn’t have much choice.
PART I
Sun’s Bedroom
ㅤEnter SUN, waking up from her bed
SUN
ㅤW-What? H-How am I home? I swear I was doing my valedictorian speech when… Oh. I fainted.
ㅤ(She pauses)
ㅤI fainted in the middle of my speech?! In front of the whole student body?!
Enter AUGUST, a bowl of soup in hand
AUGUST
ㅤYep. You did.
SUN
ㅤ(She screams) What are you doing here?!
AUGUST
ㅤI-I carried you here! I was waiting for you to wake up!
SUN
ㅤWait, what time is it even?!
AUGUST
ㅤI don’t know? It’s dinnertime. Eat. (He shoves the bowl to her, blushing) Your parents didn’t come home, so I took it upon myself…
SUN
ㅤ(She pauses, eyeing the bowl) They’re on a business trip to Tokyo… and thanks. You didn’t have to.
AUGUST
ㅤWell, after that stunt you pulled earlier, I didn’t think you’d want to be alone.
SUN
ㅤOh… Oh right… (She grabs the bowl, taking a slow sip)
AUGUST
ㅤYou know, something weird happened after you fainted. Everyone was shocked at first, but some seconds later, the commotion died down and the program continued as normal. As if nothing even happened.
SUN
ㅤSeriously?
AUGUST
ㅤ(He nods) When I was leaving with you, everyone was asking me why I was leaving so early. I told them I had to take you home. They all looked confused. Don’t know what that was about.
SUN
ㅤ(She stares deeply into the bowl) I… Do people really not care about my well-being that much?
AUGUST
ㅤS-Sun. Hey. (He places a hand on SUN’s shoulder) There’s an explanation for this, surely. Maybe they just… didn’t know what to do or something. Nobody seemed concerned, though. That’s what’s worrying me.
SUN
ㅤAt least I have you to look out for me.
AUGUST
ㅤ(He smiles) Of course. I’m always here for you, Sun.
It took less than an hour of travel, with the pair leaving with well-wishes from Tsukasa and Emu. They both stood before a worn-out door to a dingy apartment building. Exchanging a look with Nene, Rui said, “I guess I’ll be the one to answer.”
“I don’t think I’m fit for that as of right now, Rui,” Nene said, exhausted.
Rui giggled. “Sorry, sorry—just trying to lighten the mood.” He turned back to the door and placed a hesitant knock.
…
Nothing.
Rui tried again but was met with silence.
“Should we send another e-mail—” Before Rui could finish his question, the door creaked open—a nasty, grating noise. The pair cringed as they turned to see who answered.
A man, seemingly of Yuuka’s age and just a few centimeters shorter than Rui, peered his head through the small, open gap. “Can I help you two?” He asked… in English.
Nene assessed him—he wasn’t Japanese but definitely Asian. Southeast, maybe? His tan skin and droopy, double eyelids suggested so.
Rui noticed the accent and his emphasis on syllables. Nene could read it on his face—that look as if he just solved the answer to existence itself. He coughed and began speaking in his flawless English. Though she knew she wouldn’t be heard, she stifled a gasp anyway. His fluency never failed to surprise her. “Um… We’re the theater troupe that asked for the rights to perform Spirit of Air. We wanted to talk with Yuuka about her thoughts on the play last night.”
The man’s face took a sudden drop. His brows twitched, then furrowed. Nene knew the feeling all too well—pushing down annoyance. “You don’t know?”
Rui’s mouth hung open. Nene never saw the ever-composed boy this lost before. “Know… what?”
“Yuuka… She passed away last night. Around eight.”
Oh.
Nene felt the missing puzzles clicking into place as her breath hitched. It all made sense now—why she didn’t attend the performance, or answer her phone. Nene didn’t know what to think or feel. She knew Yuuka for only a few days, but she’d deeply resonated with Sun as a character and the play as a whole. Spirit of Air felt like a love letter infused with Yuuka’s feelings and emotions, as any relationship between art and artist. In a way, Nene got to know Yuuka through the play and their small talks. And to know someone she had just been talking to recently was dead… It made the ache in her gut expand to a wound.
“I see,” Rui said once he found the words. “I’m sorry for your loss. We weren’t aware.”
The man deflated, the tension escaping his body and leaving behind exhaustion. “Don’t worry about it. I just got here from the Philippines to pack some of her stuff. There really isn’t anyone else to take it anyway.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Ah… I guess you should know, seeing you came all this way.” He unlatched the door chain, gesturing for Rui to enter. “Come in.”
Inside, the apartment had nearly been cleared out by now. It barely appeared lived in, save for the stains where furniture and decorations used to be. Full boxes of acquired objects throughout Yuuka’s lifetime were placed haphazardly on the floor. Whistles of wind claimed the majority of the space. One oddity that caught Nene’s attention was the framed photo of Yuuka accepting an award—and the award itself beside it—for Spirit of Air. It was a simple award from her college when she initially published it, but her smile in the picture was genuine. It was a smile of unexpected praise and faint accomplishment. It made Nene’s lips perk up mildly, but it soon dissolved when she remembered the state of the apartment surrounding the picture.
It seemed Rui was eyeing it too, seeing as the man said, “Oh… That.” He exhaled. “I can’t get myself to take that down. Never mind it, though. Take a seat on the couch. I’ll go make you some tea.” With that, he excused himself to the kitchen.
Rui, hardly enthusiastic, sat down as suggested, facing Nene. “I… I never thought…” He didn’t finish what he was saying, but Nene knew. She was thinking about it too.
“Yeah,” she answered. “She was so excited to watch it too… I mean, she was apprehensive at first. But… It was so sudden too.”
“We never see it coming.” Rui nodded to himself.
Nene sat next to him, an inappropriately timed blush creeping on her face. She noticed his fingers twitching, the rapid bouncing of his legs, and wished she could pull him close and cry with him. Hypothetically, she could. Back at Phoenix Wonderland, they were able to touch each other. But… how?
She never thought of it fully until now, but why was Rui the only person who could perceive and feel her? What message was the universe trying to send? Whatever it was, Nene didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Not long after, the man who greeted them at the door returned with two cups of chamomile tea, setting them on the coffee table. For a split, breath-holding second, Nene thought the other cup was meant for her. Only when the man took the other cup and sipped from it did Nene relax. It was illogical thinking, but Nene was a bundle of nerves today especially.
The wood was stained with a few old coffee spills and circles from cups. Yuuka didn’t believe in coasters, it seemed.
“So,” the man began, then stopped to mentally retrace his steps. “Oh, right. I haven’t introduced myself properly, haven’t I?” He took a nearby chair and sat on it, facing Rui with an outstretched hand, the teacup in the other. “Augustus Trinidad. I was Yuuka’s closest friend.”
Rui reciprocated in a handshake. “Kamishiro Rui, director of Wonderlands x Showtime.”
“I figured as much. Yuuka talked a lot about you guys. I haven’t seen her this happy in such a long time.” He smiled absently, then dropped it with a teary glaze in his gaze, making his dark-brown eyes seem almost hazel. “What did you want to talk about exactly?”
“I hope you don’t mind us—s-sorry, I mean me saying.” Rui coughed to remedy his mistake. Nene gulped. “But I was the one who discovered Spirit of Air, actually. I found it in my school library and thought it was intriguing. When I first read it, I found myself completely immersed in the story, so some weeks later, I suggested to my troupe that we should perform it. I wanted to personally thank Yuuka for her work. It was quite an evocative piece.”
“Thank you, I’m not sure what to say…” Augustus clicked his tongue in contemplation. “I can’t speak for Yuuka, but I’m sure she’d be very happy to hear that. She wrote the play mainly for herself, yet… she also wanted people to read it and relate. I’m glad you could continue her legacy, so to speak, despite its age.”
“Of course,” said Rui delightfully. “I was also meant to interview Yuuka for more insight into her writing, but…”
“I see.” August’s gaze flitted to the bottom of his cup. “If you’d like, I could answer your questions to the best of my abilities.”
“Only if you wish to. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“No, you’re not at all. I think she’d prefer this if she were still here. She never liked being interviewed, even if that only ever happened once or twice.” He gave a hollow laugh, then looked at Rui before circling the teaspoon in the cup and starting.
“Yuuka, she…” Augustus attempted a smile, with it ended up wan. “She was very meek. She moved to America young, so she had trouble fitting in. She thought that by becoming valedictorian, she could be relatable, but it ended up making her stand out. She was so aloof, she scared off everyone around her. Not me, though… I admired her a lot.”
Rui folded his hands in his lap. “I see. So, Spirit of Air—was it inspired by her life?”
“Well, she never told me. But I could tell. She changed our names and the events for dramatic purposes, but I knew Sun was just a stand-in for her.”
“So about this… disappearing thing in the play. I wanted to ask about that too.”
Augustus paused before the cup touched his lip. He placed it back on the table, his mouth tightening as he did so. “What about it?”
Nene wasn’t sure what to make of his reaction. It bordered on suspicion and discomfort, causing Augustus to reconsider Rui’s intentions of visiting.
Noting the shift in mood, Rui swiftly attempted to rectify his wording. “I… I was meaning to, um, understand her thought process. I’m quite fond of the way she used magical realism to add more depth and symbolism to Sun’s internal struggles.”
…Wow. Even Nene was shocked at how smooth he was.
Augustus’s shoulders apparently relaxed. He lifted his cup again and took a tentative, thoughtful sip. “Wonderful question,” he said. “I don’t know much, if I were being honest. Yuuka kept many things to herself, especially her writing process. I watched her work on the script as I sat beside her, either studying for exams or just purely observing, but even I couldn’t determine her thoughts… At least not in a way I can express clearly.
“But I do know this for fact; Yuuka didn’t have a channel to vent her emotions. She kept a majority of her struggles to herself. So, in a way, this play had been imbued with those repressed frustrations, and she let it out on the page, like some bursting geyser of sorts. I’m sure you know basic science, right?”
Rui hummed in agreement, almost ecstatically. “But of course. Only so much pressure can be restrained until it ruptures.”
“Yes, you get my point exactly.” He smiled. Genuinely, this time. “Back to your question at hand—I guess the invisibility part represented how everyone saw Yuuka in their own way, never as her own person. So nobody ever really saw her. I’m sure you got that from the final monologue by Sun.”
Rui nodded. Augustus continued. “Her feelings had always been rather strong. Some days, she’d be solely focused on writing the script, she looked like she was furiously scribbling nonsense—”
A soft meow sounded in the other room. Then, little scratches began to claw at the door, followed by more meowing. “Oh, hold on. I think Kris is hungry.”
“Kris?” Rui asked.
Augustus made a gesture signalling wait here and went to the door. Opening it, a Siamese cat exited, glanced at Rui, then ran straight for the kitchen. “Sorry, I should feed her first. Hold on.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got time.”
No we don’t, Nene tried to say, but was shut down by a cough from Rui. Once Augustus left, settling his now-empty cup down, Rui turned to Nene, exhaling in relief. “Look, I know. But we can’t rush this.”
“Sure,” Nene argued. “But we don’t have all the time in the world. What if I start to fully disappear—l-like, my skin starts to turn opaque or something… What then?”
“But nothing has happened so far.”
“Nothing yet,” Nene grumbled, pouted, then reconsidered. In the end, she settled for the pout, shifting so her back was to Rui. “I know that… but I’m worried. This obviously isn’t normal. And I’m sure it has something to do with the play or even Yuuka’s death. I can’t—I refuse to stay like this.”
Rui didn’t say anything. He looked to the ground, his foot tracing lazy circles, and decided now was a good time to drink from his teacup. After a few seconds of contemplative silence, he spoke. “I get it, Nene. I do. We were both pretty metaphorically invisible in middle school, weren’t we?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Nene said as she reminisced briefly. “I don’t think there’s much connection there to this, though.”
Rui shrugged. “I’m purely speculating. There’s a fine line between speculation and assumptions. I read this line in a Stephen King novel before—assuming makes an ass out of you and me.”
Nene perked a brow. “I don’t get it.”
“Assume. The English word. Ass. U. Me.”
“Rui, are we seriously doing English vocab right now?”
“Right. My bad.” He giggled and reclined into the seat only a bit. “But I’m saying we might have more connection to this than we think.”
Augustus reentered the room, wiping away sweat from his temple. “Sorry for that. Kris was being difficult back there. I never understood cats, really—they’re pesky little things. She loved this guy a lot, though. Took him from the street.” He reassumed his seat. “Where was I?”
Rui straightened. “I believe you were getting into Yuuka writing Spirit of Air.”
“Yes, right,” Augustus murmured. “I’ll skip the preamble, then. In short, she had a lot of free time and emotions. She never made many friends growing up, so she was kind of alone for most of her life. She preferred it that way, though.”
“I see. Was she always a recluse?” asked Rui.
“As a teenager, no. She used to be so adamant in getting everyone to like her. It’s the saying—a friend to all is a friend to none. Everyone saw her as fake.” Augustus rapped his fingers against his thigh. “She did have two other friends… though she hasn’t talked to either in a while, I think. Wren’s busy with her indie bookstore in America while Oscar is… doing God knows what.”
Nene tapped her foot rapidly and impatiently. “Rui, we’re learning nothing from this. Let’s just go.”
Rui gave a passing look to Nene, whispering under his breath. “Wait, there might be—”
“Now,” she pleaded.
Rui took a breath. He smiled as politely as he could at Augustus before he said, “Ah, actually. I fear it’s getting a bit late; if I don’t hurry soon, my parents will start to worry. It was a nice talk, though.”
Augustus’s eyes widened. “Right! Sorry if I rambled on a bit there…” he said, laughing half-heartedly. “I’m sure Yuuka would’ve appreciated what you did for her. It means a lot.” Augustus appeared genuinely appreciative.
“Of course,” Rui bowed after he stood. “I’ll see myself out now, it was nice meeting you and learning more about Yuuka… and I’m sorry for you lo—”
Augustus stood and quickly unlocked the door for them. “…Yeah. Um. Thanks again.” His gaze flickered to the portrait and back at the floor. “I still have some packing to do, so if you don’t mind…”
The two left without another word.
♫彡*:･ﾟ✧
Back outside in the hallway, Rui went to the railing and perched over it, observing the vast cityscape. Nene, unsure if she should speak, joined his side. She followed his eyes to the sun, beginning to dip into the buildings below, the sky faint with orange like blending watercolors.
For some time, the pair remained silent as the sounds of passing cars and distant conversations washed below them like the sea. That was enough for Nene. No words needed to be exchanged for understanding.
Yuuka lived a very uneventful life. But she did live in peace, and hopefully died in peace too. She didn’t need to always be the best, chasing after success like she did in high school. She never married, had a simple job, and lived with her cat. It was almost admirable, really. She’d already fulfilled everything she wanted to do, and Nene didn’t know what to make of that. What was she doing? Where was she going?
She was still young, yes. But this constant chase of success, of trying to one-up herself with every performance, feeling like she needed to prove herself in front of everyone… Did she need to slow down? Reevaluate things? It’s not like she was blinded by delusions of grandeur. She was grounded, surely. Though that was something she had to tuck away for now. She had more pressing matters at hand.
From here, she could hear Rui breathing subtly. She imagined being close enough to listen to his heartbeat, to know he was still alive, still here with her, sharing the same world as her. Sometimes, Nene wished she could read his mind and comfort him like he did with her countless times before. She turned to him, wanting to try, but found him already looking at her.
The moment was shattered, with the two facing opposite directions, blushing. “So.” Rui cleared his throat. “What next?”
“I was hoping you knew,” Nene answered.
“Hm.” Rui went deep into thought, hoping to distract himself from the fluttery feeling in his chest. “Well, he did mention two other names—Wren and Oscar? Do you think that’s our next lead?”
She tapped her finger against the railing bar. “I don’t think they live in Japan. And I’d feel bad if we went to interrogate more of Yuuka’s friends… I’m sure they’re grieving.”
Rui paused, realizing his mistake. “Ah… You’re right. I’m getting ahead of myself, aren’t I?”
“It’s fine. You’re only trying to help.”
“But I don’t want to help you by using other people. Maybe we should reconsider our approach?” The two were able to face one another without blushing. “You mentioned that your parents didn’t see you this morning, so I’m assuming you woke up invisible.”
Nene shrugged. “Most likely. I couldn’t access my phone’s screen either.”
“So, you’re able to interact with people and objects if you try hard or focus enough, as demonstrated with Tsukasa. But ultimately, you’re intangible—unable to be perceived physically or felt solidly.”
“Then why doesn’t that apply to you?” Nene asked, glancing upwards to meet him.
Rui squinted in rumination, but it didn’t take long for him to give up. “None of my theories seem to align with anything.”
“You’re thinking of this too scientifically,” said Nene, fatigued.
“Dear Nene, science is all I know. And it’s undeniable fact.” Rui tsks his tongue. “But I suppose that’s why you’re here—to keep me on the ground lest I fly straight into the sun.”
“Maybe I should attach a rope with a brick to your foot. You’re almost like a balloon,” she said with a tired, yet adoring smile. She can’t begin to count how many occurrences in which she’s had to stop Rui from getting carried away.
“Actually, I’d like to voice some potential theories I had in mind,” he said suddenly.
“The stage is yours.”
“First, I’ll talk about what I don’t think this is,” he says as he pointedly shot a look to the sky. “One of my thoughts was that you died from some undisclosed medical issue last night and you’re now walking the living world as a spirit. But that was stupid, baseless, and disproved quickly. You were definitely breathing normally as I carried you back home, and your physical body is nowhere to be found, so this must mean the body you’re piloting currently is the same one that fainted yesterday.”
“Morbid, but I get it.” Nene paused. “I think?”
“Also, you can interact physically with objects, but not people. Not entirely. Though you’re unable to interfere with certain aspects, such as electrostatic fields, as seen with your phone’s touchscreen.”
“And this means…?”
Rui gave a defeated headshake. “I’m not entirely sure, really. So, I have some potential theories while we gather more information.
“Ultimately, with the current evidence, I figured there was something wrong with the play itself, and the performance triggered something that caused your invisibility. Or…” His voice gradually weakened.
“Or?”
“…or it may be more of an intrapersonal issue. Physiological and psychological, possibly. Again, I’m only speculating. Nothing’s entirely sure or set in stone.
“Whatever the case, we’ll discuss this again tomorrow with the others. I’ll do some research into Yuuka and… invisibility, I suppose. You should keep experimenting with your newfound condition in the meantime, or try recalling anything important from last night that may be of interest.” Rui stretched his arms, almost cat-like.
Nene yawned, rubbing at her eyes. “Sure. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“To clarify, I’m the only one who can perceive you, correct?”
Nene nodded.
“Do you think I’m your August?” He smirked as he asked.
Nene blushed. That was true—in the play, after Sun went invisible, it was only August who could see her. But Yuuka reasoned that their spiritual bond and closeness were strong enough to overcome both the disappearance and reappearance. Did that mean…
“I-It’s a correlation. Okay? Probably nothing thematic…”
Rui sighed. “Ah, I see. Then I guess we should get going on that note.”
Nene agreed, wishing for this to end already.
♫彡*:･ﾟ✧
The walk home was quiet. The chirping of faraway birds and the whirring of cars made conversation instead of the pair. By the time they reached their respective houses, the world was basking in orange light, and the sounds of city life had thinned out.
Nene watched as Rui departed for his house and approached hers, knocking on the door instinctively. “Oh, right… I’ll just end up spooking my parents like this.” She procured the backup key from under the welcome mat and entered carefully as if she were breaking in, ensuring the door was shut ever so softly.
Ironically, though, it seemed her parents had yet to come home.
After slapping herself on her forehead, her stomach growled with a vengeance. She did skip breakfast and lunch after all. But that meant something, didn’t it? She still felt bodily needs like hunger and thirst, which probably meant she still existed to the universe. She wasn’t floating around as a spirit. For now, at least.
In the kitchen, she made a sandwich out of leftover ham, cheese, and mayonnaise, biting into it without any class. After cracking open an energy drink and taking a long, refreshing sip, Nene wondered if Rui’s theories had any merit. They weren’t completely illogical, she’ll give him that. But the rules for her invisibility were the same as the play—and whether or not the play itself was connected to this, Nene couldn’t tell. Most likely it was, but then again, it could be dream logic. Subconsciously, her mind conjured this invisibility from the recesses of her memory, and since the performance and Sun had been hogging most of her brain, it took inspiration from there. Maybe that seeped into real life. As for the how and why of the problem, Nene was still figuring it out.
Hearing her parents begin to unlock the front door, Nene ran to her room, not wanting to see them when they couldn’t even see her. The thought pained her too much.
Nene dropped to her bed and lay there, unmoving, face buried in the sheets. What was she supposed to do? Was she destined to live the rest of her existence, never seen or heard, only felt as a presence, but never a person? At least spirits had the peace in knowing they were dead and could no longer interact with worldly events, but for Nene, she was still alive. Just imperceptible. Intangible.
Without realizing she had fallen asleep, Nene found herself in the purest form of darkness—she was in a void, encased in a sea of black. Her steps were heavy, as if she were walking in water. She kept walking, though she didn’t know where to, like she was compelled by some larger force.
In the distance, a figure was approaching her, moving slowly but assuredly. It was Nene, but not her, not exactly. It was Nene playing as Sun Igarashi, just like she did that fateful night.
The two stood face to face, with a grin worn by Sun and a grimace from Nene. Sun spoke first with a venomous breath. “We’re alike in more ways than one, don’t you know?” She cupped Nene’s cheek, stroking it gently like a parent to a sobbing child, or an owner to an injured pet. “You’ll understand eventually. They say to err is human, but forgiveness is divine.”
Before Nene could speak, if she could even speak at all, Sun’s body dissipated as if water evaporating out a kettle. She reached out to her, to grab her and keep her and beg for an answer, a solution, but she was already gone.
Exeunt omnes.
PART II
A Street, Two Days Later
ㅤEnter SUN and AUGUST, walking along a sidewalk overlooking the sea
AUGUST
ㅤWhat do you wanna do? Now that you’re officially invisible and everything. We could pull some pranks on—
SUN
ㅤ(She sighs) August, no. We’re not doing anything like that.
AUGUST
ㅤWhy not? Think of all the things we could do!
SUN
ㅤDon’t you understand?! (She turns to him, and they both stop) My entire life is on the line here, August! If I’m not visible, then I’m nothing!
AUGUST
ㅤ(He crosses his arms) What are you so hard pressed about? I’m sure this will all blow over soon.
SUN
ㅤAnd what makes you so sure of that? Actually, of course you wouldn’t care. You hardly have a life worth returning to anyway.
AUGUST
ㅤ(He drops his arms, furious) Really, now, Sun? God, you’re as vain as always. Whatever. Figure this out yourself. This isn’t my business anyway. (He turns to leave before he’s stopped by SUN’s hand grabbing him)
SUN
ㅤN-No, wait, August. I—
AUGUST
ㅤ(He pulls away from her sharply) I don’t wanna hear it right now, Sun. Save the apology for later. I’m going home.
The next morning she woke up, Nene figured she should start doing those experiments Rui asked of. He was probably busy hitting the books by now, so it was up to her to put in her effort—then again, how should she start?
She checked the clock on her phone and realized it was already nine. Her parents have definitely left by now. Last night had become hazy, almost fuzzy now. So did the night of the performance. But she could recall the dream between her and Sun in stark detail. We’re alike in more ways than one. Those were Sun’s departing words, but they stuck and clung like superglue. Nene shivered. Some caffeine would help.
Before she did anything, though, Nene made her way to the bathroom to shower. She felt like washing off the remnants of the past days and clearing her mind. A few scrubs here and there, and she’d be anew. Hopefully.
As she got ready to enter the bath, in the corner of her vision, she caught a glimpse of the mirror.
In her rush and fury yesterday, she never noticed—then again, it could be mistaken for mist—but her reflection in the mirror was translucent. She tried swiping at the glass for reassurance, but nothing changed. She was, even to herself, transparent.
She couldn’t help but question it. Rui saw her completely fine. If she had happened upon her reflection yesterday, would she have been the same, or still whole? Had she actually been fading this entire time?
And if she were fading, what happens at the end?
♫彡*:･ﾟ✧
After a good, warm shower, Nene could relax some of those initial thoughts, but that didn’t put her any less on edge.
Next, she was going to test animals.
She’d already made significant progress in her findings, but that didn’t lead her closer to the answers she sought.
Some things still interacted with her, like the water she used in the shower, her TV remote and consoles, and she could consume food and water. But anything like motion-detecting sensors or touchscreens wouldn’t register her. So, she did somewhat exist. But, to the physical world, she was invisible.
So… she was practically still at square one. Hopefully, Rui could draw some conclusions from what she’s gathered. For now, she had one last thing to test.
The sun outside didn’t greet her kindly. She blinked furiously, getting used to the light and heat. Guess I can add sunlight to the list, Nene mused.
She could’ve tested this on Yuuka’s cat, Kris, yesterday, but she didn’t have the mind to. She couldn’t be sure if he cared for her, if he could see her. So, a neighborhood stray or even a simple ant would suffice.
As if the universe finally heard her prayers, a soft mewl came from the direction of Rui’s house. Without hesitation, and a bit in desperation, Nene rushed over, following the sound. At the porch of Rui’s home, a black cat was licking its paws. …That wasn’t a good sign. But a cat is a cat regardless, and Nene needed to test if she had the same effect on animals as she did humans.
“Pspspsps… hi buddy…” she whispered, steadily crouching her way to the cat, blissfully unaware of her presence.
Before she could reach the cat, the front door burst open, sending the black Bombay scrambling off. Rui exited the doorway, glancing down at Nene, who was still crouching, and staring at him with wide eyes—almost like a spooked cat herself.
“I know we have a height difference, but this feels a bit much, don’t you think?” He asked, laughing at his own joke.
Nene scowled. “I was trying to do what you asked of me!” But after she said it, she supposed the cat would’ve already noticed her by now.
She truly was invisible to the world—not fully expunged, but gone in a physical sense, as if the dusty remains of erased chalk on a board. If she couldn’t be visible again, everything she’s done to get her here—all of the humiliation, blood, sweat, and tears—would mean nothing if she couldn’t even be seen.
Ironic, wasn’t it? All that time spent chasing limelight, just for it to slip away.
Rui marked her sudden change in mood. “Nene? Would you like to come inside?”
“W-What?” Nene said, reeling out of her head. “Oh, um. Sure.”
Seeing him up close, Nene noticed the dark circles under his eyes and worried. He seemed rather chirpy as usual, so Nene didn’t want her concern to take over her better judgment… but she knew Rui enough to know when he was hiding something.
He did a double take, even wiping his eyes as he reassessed her appearance, then said, “Nene… You’re—”
“I know,” she said, not wanting to think about it. “I know. I’m disappearing.”
Rui opened his mouth to say more, but held back and smiled instead. “Come in. I wouldn’t want to leave you here for long.”
♫彡*:･ﾟ✧
Inside Rui’s room, it seemed as if a tornado had blazed through, with papers and books scattered everywhere, ranging from hastily-written notes to crooked sketches of scientific concepts and graphs.
“Don’t mind the mess,” said Rui, as if sensing what she was thinking about. He sat at his desk, fixing whatever he could in the clutter. “I was awake until three researching.”
“I can see that,” Nene murmured. “Should I cut to the chase? I’ve found out some things. Maybe they could help.”
“If you’d like to. Go ahead.” Rui nodded, but he wasn’t all too enthusiastic about it. She figured he was just tired.
Nene went into detail about her day—from the sensors to the shower. Rui kept nodding to her words as if he were listening to a song cursorily, focusing more on her voice, but not what she was saying.
“Thank you for the information, Nene… But, I wanted to tell you something,” he finally said once she concluded.
Nene perked a brow. “What is it?”
“I don’t have an explanation.”
“W-What?”
“That’s it. There’s nothing to explain what happened—it simply occurred, and you became invisible. Nothing scientific, at least.”
“But, there has to be more to this, right?”
“I… I genuinely can’t explain it, Nene. We’re going to need to view this from a different lens.”
“A different lens…? Like what?”
“Well, it could be overexertion, pressure, and/or stress,” he said, drawing the words out for emphasis. “In the days leading up to the performance, I couldn’t help but notice how you took this role more seriously than usual.”
An irrational part of Nene felt attacked. “Seriously? How?”
“You wanted to become Sun Igarashi so bad, you quite literally followed the same steps she did. And look where that got you,” he said plainly.
“What are you implying, Rui?”
“I’m trying to say you did the same thing Sun did—forgetting about yourself and focusing more on perfecting your role.”
“Well, of course I did…! I couldn’t afford to mess up—”
“Yes, but you did anyway. Mistakes happen, Nene.”
“That’s rich of you to say, Rui.” Nene wanted to take the words back, but no, it was too late. She was like a train hurdling off the tracks, unable to brake suddenly at will.
Rui exhaled sharply, foot tapping in impatience, arms crossing tightly. “You need to relax, Nene. Stressing out about this won’t get us anywhere. Maybe you just need to rest, and reflect on—”
“Do you think I have the time for that?!” Nene didn’t want to scream, but her voice rose anyway. Rui was right. Only so much pressure can be restrained until it ruptures. “I can’t simply sit around and wait for this to pass, Rui!”
His face cringed, but Rui tried to keep a steady, relaxed tone. “Look, I understand, Nene. I really do. I’m trying my best here, but I’ve done everything, I really have, and—”
Her nails dug deep into her palms. Nene didn’t want to hear it anymore. Her exhaustion had begun to boil into anger, bubbling until it eventually spilled over and scalded Rui.
“Then clearly you’re not trying enough!” She snapped. Then, the regret began taking over in an instant. “W-Wait, Rui, I—”
He stood up, the chair knocking over and clattering in his sudden movement. His voice didn’t raise or lower, but there was an undercurrent of tension. Something he reserved for people who hurt those he cared about. “You clearly need a break, Nene. I’m asking you this as kindly as I can—get out of my room.”
Opening her mouth to speak, Nene thought better of it and turned to leave. No, an apology wouldn’t suffice.
The soft click of the door closing behind her was enough to send her crying. She burst out of his house and retreated into the safety of her room, legs burning from overexertion.
Dropping to her bed, Nene drowned the pillow in her tears. Though she couldn’t be heard by anyone, she kept her sobs as silent as she could, constantly gasping and choking. She didn’t mean it. Of course she didn’t—Rui had been trying his best, pushing himself to help her. But what did he receive as thanks? Nothing. He only wanted her to be okay, just like he always did—completely disregarding his own needs for her sake. She hated how selfless he was and how selfish she acted.
She recalls the bags under his eyes, his room of strewn papers, and the exhausted drawl in his voice. How he sacrificed so much for her, but Nene had been too focused on herself. This wasn’t like her. But her desperation had clouded her, and now she must lie in the bed she made.
She cried so much, she wore herself out till she collapsed to sleep. In the dream, she felt a fuzzy itch around her skin like static. She couldn’t see anything. All she heard was Sun again, taunting her. Laughing at her. Pitying her. All of these, coalescing into one until Nene awoke in a jolt, her breath stolen, her skin cold and wet.
She needed to do something.
♫彡*:･ﾟ✧
For the rest of the day, Nene was idle. She did as Rui suggested and rested. There was nothing to take note of or anything remotely excitable—she sat on her bed, stared out the window, paced around, and played a few games. Even when she heard her parents enter, she made no effort to get them to see her, nor did she leave the confines of her room.
In reality, she had no direction. Everything they’d worked for was for naught, and Nene felt like she was resigning to her fate. How, no matter what she did, she’d eventually fade to nonexistence. What then would happen to her memories, her body, her being? She never left a mark on the world—not as big as she wanted to, and now the world threatened to sever her mortal substance.
So, concludingly, she’d be gone, not even a ghost. Only the whispers of her name would outlive her momentarily, till all traces of her were erased. That was it. She imagined herself at the end of a book, the words THE END in bold letters, at the bottom of the page. This would be her written conclusion. No graceful bow or the celebratory cheer of an audience—cut straight to curtain call. Exit.
For the remainder of the day, she reflected. Not in a meditative way like some philosopher or monk, but it was such thoughts that ran rampant in her head.
Then it was back to the origin of her invisibility—Spirit of Air. The performance. The fainting.
Maybe she’d been looking at the equation wrong. She tried following the clear path and solution, but what if it was inherently flawed from the start? It was back to the drawing board, to the play itself, or more specifically, Sun.
Sun Igarashi was an overachiever, that was for sure. The glint of medals and achievements blindsided her until she forgot who she was and only knew what she was chasing—acknowledgement. She was thrust into a new environment, and wanted to fit in so badly, she never realized she was containing herself instead. Everything she did was in vain, as people saw her as less of a person and more as a caricature. The more she did, the further she cut herself from the world.
The only person who kept her grounded was August. He was the first person to take a chance on her, to see through her act. But that scared her. She pushed him away; she was left with nobody. So again, she kept chasing victory. Once somebody was out of her sight, they were gone for good. If she stopped running, then she was out of the race. But there never was a race. All this time, she’d been blindsided, and after realizing she’d forgotten the reason she was running to begin with, she could no longer stop. So she didn’t. Not until her body forced her to.
But, only when she decides to drop the mask and remind herself of who she was…
The answer had been there all along. It was in the words Nene spoke that night, in the lines she still remembered—the same lesson Sun and Yuuka learnt so long ago.
Nene knows what to do, and doesn’t know if she can.
But she’ll try anyway. Even if she’s afraid. Even if it won’t work.
Following in Sun’s footsteps again, she took the nearest notebook and opened it to an empty page.
And she began to write.
As the words naturally flowed from her pen, the more animated she felt.
Slowly, the life in her began to return; The warmth of body heat and rush of blood, the heaviness in her breath, the feeling of her fingers pressing against the pen. It was as if Sun were speaking to her, compelling her, pushing her forward. We’re alike in more ways than one, said Sun not long ago. Yes, maybe we are, Nene answered. We never give up. Usually for worse… but this time, for better.
Before Nene stabs the final period to her sentence, she hears a faint voice, one that could’ve been mistaken for the wind. But she knows better than that. It was Sun, or Yuuka, or even her past self with one final thank you.
Thus concludes the eternal return of Kusanagi Nene.
EPILOGUE
Sun’s Bedroom
ㅤEnter SUN, standing resolute as she faces the audience
SUN
ㅤMy name is Sunny Igarashi. And I am anything but perfect. I don’t understand how it happened, but to this day, I can confidently admit that I’ve been taking things easier. Though I lost my spot in my dream university, I still had a lot more acceptance letters from other Ivy Leagues. I can say “no” to meaningless requests. I can face rejection and judgment. And I finally feel like myself for once.
ㅤ(Looking down at her journal, she picks it up)
ㅤNobody ever saw me… I was merely the perfect class president and valedictorian to them—The pushover, the doormat. And, I guess, for some time, I stopped recognizing the face I saw in the mirror. But I stand here today as myself. Unapologetically.
Exeunt omnes
When Nene came to, she found her body in the mirror—not transparent but as clear as wiping a foggy window. Without a second thought, she left her room, running. Her parents, who happened to be in the living room, called out for her, but she didn’t stop. Her legs wouldn’t allow her to. She needed to see him, needed it like oxygen to her racing lungs.
At his doorstep, breathless, she pounded on the door without gentility, spooking the purple-haired boy inside. “Who is it?” Rui shouted from the other side. There was the sound of shuffling and slow, deliberate steps, as if Rui were anticipating the worst.
Nene registered the click and creak before she heard the hitch in his breath. Rui stood before her, his eyes shimmering in surprise and hesitant celebration.
There was a sharp deceleration in time, like a sudden pause to process the moment. But when he found her, he held her like she’d disappear again—tight, needing, everlasting.
“You’re back,” Rui rasped, confirming her presence with his forehead pressed against hers. “You’re here.”
“I am,” replied Nene, smiling against the tears forming. “For good, this time.”