Work Text:
Red, pink, purple, brown, a whirlpool of colors violently scattered across the canvas, begging for release, begging to serve a greater whole, begging to be art. True art. It was useless, wholly useless. No matter how hard she threw her ideas at the wall they did nothing but stain the box trapping her, closing in to consume her, to break down to the very atom.
Help, she gasped, silently, so no one could hear.
Help, she laughed, silently, so no one would see.
Help, she cried, silently, so no one would know.
Just how much of a failure she really was.
In the cacophony of noises, the maelstrom of paint and blood she had convinced herself to be her birthright, the girl choked. She was submerged, she was suffocating, she was dying, gasping for air, pleading, bargaining for one last chance at life. For one last chance to be worth something, anything at all.
A single glance at the canvas before her was telling enough; another failure. Another attempt at capturing beauty that failed to achieve anything. This wasn’t the first. Would it be the last? Maybe it should be. Maybe she should never touch another brush again, for the sake of all that was holy and beautiful.
Lament, O failure girl, you who are surrounded by nothing but greatness, while you yourself are barely worth anything at all. If a singer without a voice cannot sing, and a dancer without balance cannot dance, how the hell could she even call herself an artist. She, who had no talent.
She screamed. At no one but herself. Maybe she thought that screaming could replace her useless hands, incapable of painting anything, anything at all but her own misery, her torment, the blood slowly dripping from her head, her hands, her feet, like the martyr on the cross. In the disgusting figures on the canvas she had ruined by daring to paint upon it, she saw nothing of the artistry she thought she had.
Perhaps, she never had anything at all.
So she destroyed it. She destroyed the canvas. She destroyed the easel. She destroyed the brush, the paint, and the charcoal. Anything she could have used to sully yet another canvas, she destroyed. An act of mercy for those poor tools that would be better used by those with the vision, the talent, the love, the passion that she did not have. That she never had.
Because Ena Shinonome never amounted to anything in life, and she would not amount to anything in death.
…
There was something strange in observing the changing of the colors in the horizon once the sun had begun to set, or so thought Mafuyu Asahina. First, the sun would be a bright, yellow-ish hue, then, as it set, it would turn orange, red, invisible shades of blue and green, before finally leaving nothing in its wake but the warm memory of dusk.
“Warm…hm…” The girl softly mumbled to herself, her eyes still fixated on the horizon, as the sun slowly, inevitably disappeared from view a few minutes later, letting the dark colors of the night settle in the sky above.
She couldn’t quite see stars, but she knew they were there. Perhaps, if Ena was here, she could look beyond those clouds with her painter’s eyes and peer within, to see that which ordinary eyes couldn’t.
“Huh…why did I–” This was strange, Mafuyu didn’t quite know why she had suddenly thought of her, the artist of their circle. Usually, she would rather avoid her, as her constant bickering would get tiring in too great a dose. Of course, she didn’t dislike her. Far from it.
Ena was…sort of the perfect opposite to Mafuyu, in many regards. Ena was often honest with her feelings, to the point she rarely let anyone walk over her, while Mafuyu had practically become the door in doormat over the years. Ena was irate, passionate, and never shied away from voicing her discontent, while Mafuyu preferred to struggle in silence, to just ignore her issues until they went away.
Perhaps that’s why they would argue so much. In some respect, they saw in one another the things they both abhorred and envied the most. Or at least…that’s how Mafuyu chose to see it.
Because she envied Ena’s flame. She would take that over the coldness of her heart any day.
“Hmm…Maybe I should pay her a visit.” It really was a strange impulse, but it didn’t entirely come out of thin air.
Over the last few days, Ena had dodged every Nightcord call, always mentioning some assignment for her workshop that required her every minute of existence. Kanade had been consistently supportive of her, and outright said that, even if their own activities were delayed, she wouldn’t mind at all. What a caring girl.
Meanwhile, Mizuki initially did tease and push, but quickly relented when it became clear just how serious Ena was about this ordeal. Once again, she had done so out of care for her friend.
But what had Mafuyu done?
A quick scrolling of their last conversations on Nightcord showed that the last thing she had sent Ena was a thumbs up emoji, and a very dry ‘good luck’.
No one had said anything, but Mafuyu was beginning to think it might have been a bit cold, especially compared to the warmth of her other two friends. That, compounded by the repeated absences, compounded by her head suddenly manifesting the brunette, led Mafuyu to one and only one conclusion.
She should pay her a visit. What could possibly go wrong?
…
NIGHTCORD
@K
Yuki: <I’m going to come back later today.>
K: <oh…>
K: <is everything alright?>
Yuki: <Yes, I just want to pay Ena a visit.>
Yuki: <She’s been inactive for too long.>
K: <ahh, i see.>
K: <you’re very kind.>
Yuki: <I’m just>
Yuki: <It’s>
Yuki: <She has work to do for us. We can’t be too lax on her.>
K: <hehe, if you say so.>
K: <take good care of her, okay?
K: <i should be awake when you get back.>
Yuki: <Alright, take care.>
K: < ^^ >
…
With her rather sudden change of plans decided upon, Mafuyu took to walking towards the Shinonome household, whose address she somehow remembered quite well since her last foray. She also attempted to message Ena in advance, so as to not surprise her too much, but she had gotten no response so far, only further incentivizing her to visit her friend.
Beneath the waning streetlights, the invisible stars above, and the waxing moon looking over her shoulder, Mafuyu walked silently to her destination, letting the cool air of the night caress her tenderly. Hopefully, one day, she would feel the goosebumps of her hair, or the shivers on her skin again. For now, it still felt empty, grey, intangibly sad and unfeeling.
Maybe that’s also why Mafuyu constantly found herself gravitating towards Ena, a girl who did nothing but feel, feel, and feel again. So strongly she felt, in fact, that she fought tooth and nail to save Mizuki, she constantly voiced her worry over Kanade, and who knows how many times Mafuyu had been chided by her over her lack of care for herself.
Mafuyu supposed that, if they had to be assigned roles…
Kanade was their anchor, their center, the one around which the yard of their partnership was spun.
Mizuki was their heart, the cheerleader, her boundless support and positivity had always shouldered them on their journey.
And Ena was the engine, the pulsating motor ready to spur them onward, far, far away with the fuel that was her fury and passion.
She was the true blue flame of creation and would always see to it that they moved forward, relentlessly.
“I wonder…what I am…” A silent whisper, lost to the winds which carried her words as far as the leaves falling from the trees. Perhaps she wasn’t anything at all, really. Mafuyu simply did not think she could feel enough to be, or be enough to feel. Someday, maybe, she could do both.
To be, and to feel. Oh, how wonderful that would be.
Her navel gazing sufficiently worked to kill the time on her hand, as she had finally arrived at the Shinonome household in all its rather ordinary glory. Mafuyu thought back to that day where she had broken bread with the two siblings, and spent time with Ena, becoming a model to her sudden burst of creativity. She had come out of that event with an important lesson, and the feeling that she could earnestly trust Ena when push came to shove.
From the depths of her heart bloomed the shallow hope that, maybe, Ena could trust her too when things got tough.
Regardless, she could do nothing if she didn’t move, so Mafuyu raised her finger to the door bell, but stopped right before pressing it.
“What if…her parents are home?”
It was a strange thing to not have thought about at all. Last time, she had gotten to see both her brother and her mother, two very amicable figures, in spite of Ena’s bickering with them. But there was another part to this equation that was the Shinonome family she had yet to interact with.
Ena’s father.
“...” Mafuyu briefly thought back to some of Ena’s words about him, particularly the less than kind ones. And in a way, Mafuyu felt a connection to that. She knew that there was likely a lot in common between her own mother and Ena’s father, that even if they operated under what they believed was the right approach for their children, that their words or behavior still deeply hurt them.
Well, Mafuyu…wasn’t sure if she could outright admit to herself her mother had hurt her. She still wanted to think the best of her, in spite of everything that had happened. In spite of having tried to live with her again, and having had to run away again.
She didn’t want to believe her mother was a bad person.
She could much more easily dislike Ena’s father however, who seemed content on lambasting Ena and crushing her dreams under his foot. No matter if his intentions were salvatory in nature, Mafuyu took him to be largely responsible for the fraying of Ena’s heart, the very thing that had pushed her, just like the rest of them, to want to disappear.
If Mafuyu had to confront Ena’s father…would she be able to keep her mask?
Ding dong!
Questions could wait, and the longer she’d ruminate over this, the longer she’d take to actually do something of substance. So Mafuyu decided to simply press on the door bell and deal with the consequences as they came.
She thought she remembered Mizuki calling that ‘winging it’. It felt a little liberating.
It didn’t take long for the door to open, and for warm, orange light to come illuminate the purple-haired girl. The orange of a lamp, of the wallpaper and…of a familiar hairstyle.
“...huh? Asahina, was it? The hell are yo– Ehm, I mean, good evening! What brings you here so late?
The orange-haired boy in front of her had quite quickly changed from a grumpy demeanor to an amiable smile, making Mafuyu wonder if he was also the sort to put on a mask. Regardless, she did the same.
“Good evening, Akito. I was here to check up on Ena? She’s been somewhat evasive online as of late, me and my friends are a little worried…” The less she used her mask, the better Mafuyu felt, as the notion of lying to herself and to the people around her sullied her very sense of self, making her want to vomit what little heart she might still have left.
Fortunately, the boy did not make her wait for long.
“Uh, yeah, she’s been…a little off here as well.” His fake smile soon faded into an expression of genuine concern, a rather vulnerable side of the Shinonome brother that Mafuyu had never seen before. He continued, “ever since she flunked that one workshop thing, she’s basically holed herself up in her room. She’s even skipping out on school. We all tried to talk with her at least once, but–” His words trailed off, but Mafuyu could guess the rest. ‘It made it worse.’
“I see…may I see her? Maybe I can get through to her.” Mafuyu’s own smile also faltered slightly. Those words were simply a little too confident for her to feel at ease using them.
“Oh, of course, that would be really swell actually.” His voice shifted down again, like yet another wall had fallen down, crushed to smithereens. And then, with a gleam of honesty in his eyes, he looked the purple-haired girl straight in her eyes and opened his lips.
“Can I…be real for a sec? I’m…genuinely worried. She’s had these…episodes before, where she obsesses over a project and isolates for a few days, before coming out and acting like nothing happened. But this…this is different. She’s barely eaten anything as far as I can tell, and she only comes out to go to the bathroom. I once tried peeking into her room to get the deal but–” And as he said this, Akito briefly pulled one of his sleeves open, revealing a wound on his lower arm that could only be described as the clawing of some wild animal.
“Ena…did this?”
“She’s never shied away from being verbally abusive before, but…this is the first time I’ve seen her genuinely violent. She really needs help, but I don’t think she’ll listen to me or dad. Even mom tried, but she’s too soft to push Ena in any direction, whether it’s the right one or not.”
Through Akito’s briefing, Mafuyu was starting to get a better picture of the family dynamics that operated within this household. Ena’s father was a harsh, constricting presence whose words could not, or would not reach Ena, that very attitude having erected the wall between them. In contrast, Ena’s mother was a soft, caring presence, who unfortunately could also not reach Ena, because she would feel too coddled to break out of her art-induced self-hatred.
Akito, however, should have been able to reach out to her if he really wanted to. In spite of their differences, they had a complicity and stood on relative equality. To see that Ena had not only rejected his hand, but outright mangled it, was…saddening.
Scratching at the bridge of her nose, Mafuyu deeply thought as to how she would go about this, if all three of her direct family members had tried and failed. But Akito still had one more thing to say.
“I…don’t really know how well you guys get along in that circle of yours, but as far as I can tell, she really trusts you.”
As though a veil of complete and utter sincerity had fallen over his eyes, he looked right at Mafuyu, with nothing but honesty and purpose in his gaze.
“Please, help her. She’s annoying, rude, selfish and a brat but…she’s the only sister I got.”
…
Color, form, word, shape. They all coalesced into a nonsensical, uncaring mush of apathy and heresy, like the very act of creation was being sullied by her irreverent hand. The painting on the walls. The walls around her painting. The cracked brushes which would never brush again. The broken easel which would never carry again. The shattered girl who would never love again.
All she saw in the debris and decay of her own desillusion was despair, dark and deep. There was nothing for her here, in this dilapidated room. There was nothing for her there, beyond the canvas she had demolished.
Death, death, death, death. Death of the author, of the painter, of any and all who dared shower her with false praise, putting her on a pedestal of filthy, worm-riddled hay, before the reality of the world put it all on fire, burning her away with it. She deserved that. She deserved the death that would come from immolation, cremation, the final erasure of all that she was, of all that she had done. Of all that she hadn’t done.
A voiceless scream, so many uttered that she had already lost her voice. A frail punch, so many thrown that she had already lost feeling in her knuckles. She cursed the heavens. Then she cursed the Earth. Then she cursed herself. Herself. Herself. Again, and again, and again, and again.
Her Pride in her talentless hands had thoroughly shattered any chances of seeing true results. The Envy she bore towards others, the Lust she had for their attention, the Gluttony she nourished with their meager appreciation, the Greed which made her believe she deserved talent at all, the Anger with which she had cast aside everyone around her, and the very Sloth that led her to this point, to being unable to hold a single pen so she could draw.
Useless, useless, useless, useless, USELESS. She was useless, and so were THEY. THEY who had lulled her into a false sense of belonging, of being as talented as them. They were all at fault too.
What good was an artist who couldn’t create, a musician whose love could only hurt, a friend who could do nothing but run?
What good was a girl without a heart?
…
Akito had invited Mafuyu in, leading her towards Ena’s room on the second floor of their house, and already, a few things had become fairly clear to the lyricist.
First of all, the house felt bereft of life, and not a soul could be seen around. The Shinonome brother briefly mentioned some vacation the parents took together, which irked Mafuyu greatly.
They both knew their daughter was having this kind of episode and their best solution was to piss off to God knows where? What?
Akito had seemingly predicted the feelings this information would bring out, because he had punctuated his explanation with a brief: “Don’t…be too harsh on them. I think this is their idea of giving us space.”
“If I may, it feels more as though they are putting the emotional burdens of helping Ena solely on your shoulders. Are you really okay with this, Akito?”
“Hm…” Mafuyu had not meant to speak so candidly. In fact, her ‘good girl’ voice had almost completely diluted, perhaps because of her own fury. But if Akito had any complaints to make about that, he silenced them, instead retorting thoughtfully.
“Maybe they did. Guess that was useless though, cause I sure as hell can’t help her.”
His eyes looked lost, forlorn. He bit on his lower lip out of sheer frustration, likely directed at his own inadequacy. Perhaps Mafuyu should have said something to comfort him. She was smart enough to intuit that this was one such moment when people ought to do that. However, nothing really came to mind. Not even through her mask of copy and pasted formulations and phrases could she find the right words to say. Perhaps such was the problem with becoming closer to human.
It was much more difficult to fake the genuine.
They seemed to come to a standstill with their conversation as they’d arrived before Ena’s door, which seemed quite plain save for a small plate that read “Ena’s Room: Losers Not Allowed (That Means You Akito)”. Mafuyu could tell the writing, as well as the scribbles all around, were made by Ena’s juvenile hand, and she found it oddly charming.
Akito seemed to fondly smile at it for a very brief second, before going back to a more neutral expression.
“Alright I’ll…leave you to it. If there’s anything you need I’ll be right next door.”
“I understand. Thank you for being open with me. You are a good brother.”
“I…can’t say I agree.”
Without any more words, he turned back and walked away, getting in his room and gently closing the door behind, leaving nothing more than dead silence in the hallway.
“Now…what to do?”
Mafuyu looked at the door separating her from what might be her friend’s lowest of lows like one would look at a terrifyingly high wall they could not surmount. She wasn’t used to this feeling that seemed to grip her heart, damaging it until its capacity to pump blood into her organs was terribly compromised.
Was this…fear?
It wasn’t the fear she felt when she had to confront her mother. Or the fear she felt when she heard Kanade faint from the kitchen. It was something else, something more nebulous.
It was the fear…of the unknown, of being unaware of what would come next.
Regardless, the purple-haired girl steeled her resolve and gently knocked on the door twice, opening her lips to let out a very brief, “Ena? Can I come in?” that only echoed in the corridor without seeming to reach anyone inside.
She did this again, then again, before finally doing it one last time and coming to terms with the fact that she would simply not get anything for reasons she started genuinely dreading.
Was Ena okay? Was she even in there? Maybe something had happened to her?
Once again, fear had begun spoiling the flesh around her own heart, this time in a manner much closer to her experiences with Kanade.
So just as she would do with the composer, Mafuyu opened her friend’s door without her consent, consequences be damned, and what she saw inside was…
Pandemonium.
It was as though a chaotic, destructive tempest had flown over this room, and this room alone, scattering, shaking, destroying everything in sight. The walls were covered in a wide assortment of paint colors that had slowly dripped down and dried out, while the floor was absolutely riddled with sheets of paper, canvases, brushes, pens, anything and everything one could expect to find in an artist’s workshop, but never at the right places, and never in the right shape.
Most things here were broken, and not barely. At the center of this macabre stage stood a completely torn canvas atop a broken easel. The paint on said canvas was far too messy, and the surface too dilapidated, to make out what it once represented. Although Mafuyu mused that perhaps, in this very state, everything here was a work of art itself, representing the very essence of Ena’s turbulent, suffering soul.
“Oh Ena…what have you done..?”
But the spectacle was far from over.
In the corner of the room, she recognized what used to be the girl’s desk and chair, also thrown to the way side, toppled over like towers made by man’s hubris. It seemed as though they were pushed aside to make more room for painting, but now it looked as though the concept of painting itself had parasitically taken over this room, symbolically encroaching upon any and all of Ena’s interests, passions, wants and desires.
The window on the far edge of the room was closed, and the shutters were…shut. The stale air within made Mafuyu think that window had likely not seen any use in actual days, making her genuinely worried about the living conditions here. The sole detail that did not fill her with dread was that she could not see the girl’s computer or phone amidst the decaying debris. Perhaps they had been put aside, out of mercy for what they represented – whether that was the girl’s friends, or her relentless pursuit of attention.
Finally, upon a bed that had also been littered with empty, loveless attempts at art, the girl she had come to see was sleeping, herself in a pitiful state.
Mafuyu had never seen Ena so thin, she could almost give Kanade a run for her money, and even with her eyes closed, the dark pockets underlining them were far too visible for comfort. Meanwhile, her attire, some dirty, paint-stained overalls she could easily imagine an artist preferring, with a shirt that likely used to be white before it too got taken over by painting, looked as though it had not been taken off in literal days.
In another assault to her senses after the visual one that was this room, her nostrils constricted, reflexively avoidant of the smell within, a nauseating mix of painting fumes, charcoal and bad BO. It once again reminded Mafuyu of Kanade’s worst hours, when the slumps would get bad enough that Kanade would not go out for literal days, and the room would smell like someone had died in it.
As she took it all in, the room, the destruction, the chaos, the sadness of it all, the girl on the bed slightly twitched, showing signs of waking up amidst the carnage.
“Hhgngh…h…uh..?” She opened her eyes with some difficulty, the paint on her lids having dried out for almost too long, rendering them painfully shut. She moved slowly, groggily, like she hadn’t moved in a while, or didn’t have the energy required for it. A quick glance around the room seemed to give her no insight as to where she was, or even who she was.
To Mafuyu’s eyes, she looked like a child who had woken up in the middle of a nightmare, searching for anything she recognized.
But there was nothing to recognize in a room that had been made into an altar for chaos. There was no love here but the absence of it, no light but the halogen lamp shining uncomfortably from above, nothing else but lament, lingering languidly, laughing amidst the failures that had piled high up in the form of erased lines and crossed out shapes.
Ena then saw her, Mafuyu. In the silence of the eldritch room, they locked eyes. Mafuyu’s purples which shone a very dim light could finally observe what lay within Ena’s browns.
And it was nothing but the gleam of madness, of something pernicious in design, something that had taken over the passionate flame of Ena, turning it into a monument to folly.
Her eyes looked like a predator’s seeing its prey.
“What…the hell?” Her voice was hoarse, ragged, almost inhuman in its tone, like she hadn’t uttered a word for so long that her throat had clamped into itself. And that look she gave her… Mafuyu was incapable of feeling shivers, but she figured that this must have been close enough. She felt trapped by the deviance in Ena’s gaze. She had just entered the den of the wolf, and was about to pay dearly for it.
Before Mafuyu could utter a single word, Ena got up, pushing the stray pieces of paper and canvases away from her, slowly walking towards Mafuyu with what could only be construed as ill-intent.
Was she…going to hurt her? Was Mafuyu about to be hurt? It seemed too alien a concept. Mafuyu had never had to contend with physical violence from anyone. She had not hit someone before, and she had certainly never been hit.
Even so, she instinctively knew to steel herself, possibly preparing for a ‘scrap’, as Mizuki might call it.
The sound of crushed paper followed beneath every step Ena took, as she got closer and closer, her face looking down, concealing her expression.
Finally, she was right in front of Mafuyu. Her head still down, her hands clenched, her arms hanging limply.
“Y–...hhhnn…y-you…” She muttered unintelligible words under her breath, like she was cursing Mafuyu for whatever reason she deemed justified in her lunacy.
“Ena. What is going–”
As though the very act of speaking had been the final straw to break the camel’s back, Ena’s hand moved quickly, efficiently, immediately slapping Mafuyu’s mouth shut and pushing her against the wall.
“HMMM!!” It hurt. She felt the back of her head pulse with pain as it collided with the wall, and her lips felt numbed by the blow she had received there. It hurt. It was an unfamiliar sensation. Mafuyu almost felt glad she could call this a sensation, but it was not a good one. It hurt, but not just physically. It hurt to see Ena like this. It hurt that Ena would raise a hand against her like this.
“You…YOU!!!” Finally, her head rose to meet Mafuyu’s eyes.
All she saw was madness. Her eyes were filled with rage, fury, cruelty, like she had extinguished all love within herself to only make room for the very worst aspects of herself.
“Why…are you here..?!!” The cadence with which she spoke was nothing short of deranged, like she was genuinely about to murder her, like Mafuyu had committed such a great offense that her life was effectively forfeit.
She couldn’t let this pass; Mafuyu had to act.
Seeing as her own arms were not incapacitated, Mafuyu reflexively tried pulling Ena’s arm away, the one that had pinned her mouth shut. It was easier than she expected.
“AH!” Ena seemed to jolt away with pain at Mafuyu’s grasp of her wrist. The purple-haired girl didn’t think she had put this much strength into her hand, but perhaps she had. Or it was because Ena had simply grown that weak over the last few days.
“Ena, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but–”
“SHUT UP!!”
Another movement of her arm. This time, a hand came right up to Mafuyu’s collar and grabbed her from there, so hard it risked tearing apart the fabric of her school uniform. But before Mafuyu could push that hand away as well–
“URGH– W-Wha..?”
Pain. A sensation of pain so alien, so destructive, right around her stomach. Mafuyu had to think about it for a second longer than she should have, but she had been punched. She was fairly certain of it.
“YOU’RE JUST HERE TO MOCK ME, AREN’T YOU?!”
Still held by her collar, Mafuyu could not avoid a second punch, dull pain aching from her midside into the rest of her body, making her briefly struggle to breathe or think.
“YOU’RE HERE TO LORD OVER HOW SUPERIOR YOU ARE, YOU FREAK!”
Mafuyu had to stop this. Forcing her senses to ignore the pain and obey her, she managed to finally slap away the hand pinning her to the wall, holding it tightly enough to voluntarily cause pain this time.
“AAAAHHH!!!” The shriek utterly weakened Mafuyu’s grasp, as she couldn’t handle the sheer concept of hurting someone she loved.
“My…my wrist. MY WRIST!!!” But the mad girl’s sudden fixation on her pain at least provided her with the slightest bit of respite, both to inspect her own hurt, and to contend with Ena’s.
“Ena, please calm down, I am not here to hurt you!”
“MY WRIST, MY WRIST!!! I…I can’t hurt my wrist. Or I’ll– I’ll be useless. USELESS!! You…you’re here to break me, aren’t you?! Like everyone else, just constantly working to break me, to break me, to break me, TO BREAK ME–”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mafuyu couldn’t make her words more emotional if she tried, so the whole sentence came out dry, but hopefully intense enough that it would convey her honesty.
Was Ena even capable of understanding that, however? With the way she currently was?
“LIAR!!!” It seemed she wasn’t.
And she lunged towards Mafuyu, fully intent on punching her again, but the girl before her was taller, stronger, and had actually eaten food in the last few days.
Channeling the memory of an old martial arts movie they had watched with all four of them at a sleepover, Mafuyu tightly held onto the oncoming fist by the wrist, took the other one in turn, and swiftly applied pressure on Ena’s body until they both fell on the bedroom floor, crushing several filthy pieces of paint-stained paper.
“Argh!”
“Stay down.”
Mafuyu was now pinning the delusional girl down, firmly holding onto her wrists so she wouldn’t try anything else, and applying pressure by sitting on her lower body so she wouldn’t try kicking either.
“L-Let me…go!!!”
“Not until you calm down, Ena.”
Having finally gained a semblance of respite from the fight, Mafuyu took to analyzing the state Ena was in. She could now much more closely see the obvious signs of malnutrition and starvation on her body, down to some of her bones poking out of the skin, but this was now compounded by how dehydrated she looked. Had she also neglected water until her body couldn’t take it? Meanwhile, her eyes still flashed the same furious, desperate look, like an animal caught in a bear trap, desperately clawing its own feet away to survive.
She also noticed tear stains across her cheeks, barely faded but still visible. Perhaps, if she had enough water in her system, she would be crying right now.
“LET ME GO!!! YOU…YOU–”
“ENA!” Mafuyu didn’t think she could raise her tone in anger like this, but for the first time she could remember, she felt a burst of fury well up from deep within, piercing through her throat to reach Ena’s ears.
Finally, it seemed to have an effect on her. Ena immediately fell into silence, as her limbs went limp, no longer trying to fight off the pressure applied towards them. She almost seemed dead, if not for the frustrated expression disfiguring her face, hate and shame bubbling up, directed solely at Mafuyu.
“..ot fa..”
“Huh?”
“It’s…not fair.”
And then, that hate dissipated almost like a bad dream, as though it had never even existed, replaced with profound grief and despair. She sobbed tearlessly, choking on her own spit multiple times from her position.
“It’s not fair…why…why even now…you won’t let me…hate you?”
“...” Mafuyu was entranced by the words coming out of her lips. For someone like her, who couldn’t even understand the intricacies of basic human communication without the highest effort, whatever Ena was showing her right now was like the advanced course of a class whose basics she’d flunked. She wanted to understand Ena because she was her friend, but also because she wanted to understand more than the simple things.
“I–...I’m…I failed. I failed…everything. Every time I…I think about you, Mizuki, Kanade, Akito, Airi, everyone…around us, who do so many…so many great things…I…I fail. I fail to be anything. I’m…nothing at all.”
“Ena…”
“Haha…I should have just died. I wish I hadn’t failed…at that too.”
A punch much stronger than the physical ones Mafuyu had taken suddenly came barrelling at the walls of her heart.
“What do you…mean by that?”
“You’re so…pretty when you’re worried.”
“I’m…worried?”
“You are…and you shouldn’t be.”
The smile Ena gave her seemed to do nothing but freeze her heart even further. She hated it. Mafuyu earnestly disliked that weak, faint smile that held nothing more than the abandonment of one’s own self.
“When did you attempt, Ena?” But Mafuyu pushed aside the incomprehensible feelings bubbling in her own heart. She needed to know more, understand more, absorb more.
“Does it matter? I failed. I’m still alive. I’m alive because I failed to die, and now I’m dying, because I failed to live. I’m an artist because I failed at everything else, and now I failed at that too.” She briefly glanced around the room, as if it compounded her argument.
“I don’t understand.”
“Why? Didn’t you say it yourself? We…all want to disappear, Mafuyu.”
The hold Mafuyu had over Ena’s wrists completely shattered, unable to be applied as the girl on top genuinely contemplated her own sanity. But instead of a punch or another fight, what came was the brunette’s calloused, haggard hands briefly caressing her friend’s cheeks, holding them like a sacred treasure she admired more than anything else in the world.
Mafuyu didn’t know how to feel, being looked at with such…deviant adoration.
“It wasn’t…me who said this. Or at least, it wasn’t the me who I am today.”
Ena scoffed at that answer, as though she either didn’t believe it, or didn’t care for it. “Does it even matter? It came from your lips. You cannot deny that.”
As much as Mafuyu wanted to, she couldn’t. She still remembered those days quite hazily, when…OWN subsumed the person she was now. But she knew that nothing had been said that hadn’t already been in Mafuyu’s heart proper. So she must have said it too, albeit silently, hidden from view.
Ena chuckled dryly, her expression still sickeningly saccharine, soured by her soulless staring. “Come on…let’s do it.”
“Huh? Do what?” Mafuyu shouldn’t have asked.
“Disappear. Let’s disappear together…Mafuyu~”
The hands that rested on the surface of her cheeks soon clamped down, gently, and the girl who had been pinned down a few minutes ago slowly brought Mafuyu’s head down with hers, closing the distance between them with every passing second.
“I…don’t want to disappear.” Mafuyu didn’t know if she wanted this proximity or not, but she couldn’t find it in herself to get up.
“Liar. You have the most reasons to disappear.” Ena’s gaze trapped her, like a butterfly trapped in a spider’s web, ready to be eaten. There was something enticing, delicious within the madness of her eyes. Mafuyu…wanted to taste it.
The sweet, sweet flavor of giving in – of disappearing.
…
Mafuyu…still wanted to disappear.
This wasn’t meant to be a deeply hidden secret, or some theatrical twist. It was simply how she was. Of course, Kanade’s affection for her, as well as her earnest efforts to save her, had changed her a lot over time. She wasn’t the same girl who wanted to disappear into the SEKAI and never come back again. She wasn’t OWN.
And yet…there was still an uncomfortable feeling sitting at the bottom of her heart, like a corpse sinking into the ocean. Mafuyu still struggled to breathe at times, to see the world as somewhere she belonged in, to see the friendship and companionship of others as something she deemed herself worthy to participate in.
Earlier, she had thought of Kanade as their anchor, Mizuki their heart, and Ena their engine.
But what was Mafuyu?
Dead weight. She was nothing more than years upon years of unchecked trauma that had accumulated into making her the shell of a girl who never even existed. To have only been one’s true self as a child was no existence at all. It was pitiful, pathetic.
It was tantamount to deserving to disappear, and nothing else.
So…Mafuyu should accept this outcome.
To disappear.
To destroy it all.
And yet…
…
What do you think, Mafuyu?
Is this how I look to you, Ena..?
It seems a bit…strange…
So, why..?
What?
Why exactly do you see me this way?
How..? I think it’s because I caught a glimpse of your true will just now…
My true will? What do you mean?
Or rather… Your desire to do what you’re doing now!
Also, there’s no way for me to actually know if I’m right! This is just an interpretation of what I saw!
I see…
…
“NO!” Memories of that night she had spent at Ena’s house flooded Mafuyu’s hazy mind just in time for her not to spiral any further, to reclaim her sanity, and put a stop to this charade.
She pushed back against the pull of Ena’s eyes, as well as that of her hands, finally breaking free and asserting her own will over the broken girl.
“I’m not a liar, Ena. I don’t want to disappear. And I know…I know you don’t want to either.”
“Heh, what would you even know about me?” The smirk on Ena’s face was nothing but malicious in every regard, simultaneously taunting her, and giving up on any facade of amicability.
Mafuyu thought long and hard about her next words. She wished, in that moment, to have even a shred of Kanade’s gentle kindness, or Mizuki’s comforting presence. Hell, if she had but a sliver of Ena’s sharp tongue, she would still be more useful than she was at the moment. But this was a situation she had to defuse on her own. With her own words. Her own misshapen, shattered feelings.
“I know you, Ena. I’ve known you for long enough to know that I admire you. That I’ve never met anyone half as passionate and driven as you. That your flame, that your heart’s purpose, is a source of envy to me.”
“...envy?”
It seemed as though she had managed to hold onto Ena’s attention. For once, her eyes flashed with something other than madness – curiosity.
“I envied– no, I still envy the way you do things. Your strength of character, your sense of self, your indefatigable efforts to watch over those you love, and to better yourself as a person and as an artist.” Mafuyu’s voice oozed from her lips in the sweetened balm called sincerity. It felt…liberating to mean the words she said.
“My ‘efforts’ have never gotten me anywhere. Stop deluding yourself and lying to me.”
“That’s wrong. They’ve…your efforts– they’ve saved me.”
“...!” This time, Ena was completely driven to silence, prompting Mafuyu to continue spilling her heart, as though she was falling down a tall ravine with no end in sight.
“When you let me stay here, when you told me not to accept everything my mother wanted, when you saw in me the expression of my true will that even I couldn’t find… Through your art, and through your kindness, you've saved me, Ena.”
“That’s…not–”
“It's true. And I would not be standing here if it weren’t for that day. I would likely be on my way to become a doctor.”
Her heart lurched at the sheer mention of this outcome, but Mafuyu had had ample time to think about it in the past. She knew that, if it weren’t for the combined help and kindness of everyone in her life, she would still be in that house, trapped in a cocoon of her mother’s making, forever doomed to repeat the same cycle of fake smiles, fake words, fake acknowledgement and fake love.
Even if it was without the SEKAI, eventually, she would have found a way to disappear.
But she couldn’t anymore. Mizuki, Ena, Kanade… They had seen her slowly fizzle out of reality and harpooned her back, giving her a new lease on life, new directions, new hopes, new dreams.
Kanade had given her a promise, a song that would one day save her.
Mizuki had given her precious advice, to run when the going got tough.
And Ena had, time and time again, given her the brutal honesty others avoided. She had given her strength, willpower, a sense of self.
It was now her turn.
“Ena…even if you want to disappear, I won’t let you.”
“W-What..?”
“Because I need you. I still cannot see myself the way you draw me. So until I can…I need you to keep drawing.”
Her legs beginning to grow numb, Mafuyu threw her body to the side, letting the artist finally free herself. Yet in spite of that, Ena didn’t move an inch, seemingly paralyzed by what she had just heard.
“Hah…hahaha…Mafuyu…I– I can’t…I can’t even–”
“You can draw, Ena. You will keep drawing. But before that–”
Mafuyu got up to her feet, feeling only a slight ache still residing in her stomach, before approaching the grounded Ena and picking her up with shocking ease.
“H-Hey..!”
“You need to rest, but not in this filthy place.”
“L-Let me go! Where are you…taking…me?”
As soon as she had levied her first few objections, Ena seemed to completely shut down, falling asleep in Mafuyu’s arms like they were the most comfortable things she had been on in a while. And considering the state of her bed, that might genuinely have been the case.
Without hesitating any further, Mafuyu went out of the room, moved a few meters in the hallway, and knocked on the door she had seen Akito disappear into.
The sound of shuffling footsteps had been incredibly fast, and the door opened nearly immediately, a slightly out of breath Akito behind it.
“Asahina, did yo– Ena!”
“Shush, she’s sleeping. May I know where the spare blankets and pillows are? Her room isn’t in good shape, so I want her to sleep on the living room couch.”
“Screw that, just let her crash in my room.”
Mafuyu couldn't hide her brief confusion at how quickly he had come to that decision.
“Are you…really sure?”
But Akito simply flashed a knowing grin. “Duh, she probably needs a bed more than I do right now. Well, she also needs food, water, a shower and some real talking to, but now that she’s out of that hellhole we can get to all of these in due time.”
It was refreshing to hear the unrestrained relief in Akito’s voice, especially after his earlier showing.
Mafuyu chuckled slightly, partly because it seemed appropriate, and partly to denote the amusement she felt but couldn’t express naturally. “Hehe, you really are a good brother.”
“Nah, I’m just…” He scratched the back of his head, looking for the right words.
And when he did, with that same veil of vulnerability from earlier, he spoke. “When I used to be down in the dumps, feeling burnt out and unable to see my own future…she’s the one who supported me, telling me to chin up, to keep trying. That someday…there would be hope beyond the horizon, that I would find what truly fulfilled me.”
His words seemed to evoke the past, just as they evoked the future, like he was at a crossroads and looking in both directions simultaneously, reminiscing of a time long gone, and anticipating a time that would inevitably come. There was a kind of confident cockiness in his eyes that suited him better than his earlier lamentations.
Whatever Ena had done in the past, he had never been able to forget it.
“I see…hehe. That does sound like Ena alright.”
Mafuyu thought back to her own words from earlier, when what seemed like her true feelings oozed from her cold heart. She was also the same, wasn’t she? Ena had saved her.
This passionate, rude, annoying, driven, stupid, witty, awful, beautiful girl had come and affected her in ways she could still remember and cherish.
Mafuyu had thus a very important commonality with Akito:
She owed Ena her life.
…
Beyond the horizon, beyond the distant skies, the lonely girl saw a myriad of beautiful colors, painted vividly over the veil of stars.
She asked her father, looking alongside her.
“Papa, papa! Will I one day be able to draw all these colors?”
Her father chuckled, not out of malice, but out of the gentle amusement adults naturally held for children who were always more honest than them.
He toyed with his beard for a few seconds, before kindly replying to the girl’s inquiry.
“Hm…you will paint many colors throughout your life, if that’s what you want. But those colors there, they aren’t yours to paint.”
“Huh..? Why?”
“Because someone else already painted them. So go, find your own colors, paint them instead. And maybe, someday, someone else will look at the clouds, the skies, the stars you’ve painted, and think to themselves–
–I want to draw those colors too!”
…
“U-Urgh…my…head.” A wide range of uncomfortable, painful sensations assaulted the girl who, for a good few seconds, forgot her name even was Ena Shinonome. She could probably count less things that didn’t hurt or generally feel bad within her body than those that did. Her stomach felt like it was pierced by a sharp blade, while her throat ached phenomenally. There was even a dull ache in her wrists, and a brief glance at them showed the slightest of bruises.
What…had happened?
The elephant in the room, however, was the room itself. She knew damn well where she was, and it wasn’t where she was supposed to be.
“W-Why the hell am I in his room???” She glanced around, hoping to somehow find an answer to her questions. Instead, she only found further confusion.
There, asleep on the edge of her bed, having laid her head over her arms, was someone she knew very well.
Mafuyu. The lyricist and arranger of their circle.
And then, as if the memories had slapped her awake, it all came back–
The art assignment she had so painstakingly worked for, only to get a failing grade because she had ‘utterly lost any semblance of direction or scale’. The long days and trials at perfecting her work, making her become more and more insane with time. Every failure became another drop of blood in the deadly rivers that threatened to subsume her completely.
Her mother was the first one to try and get her out, but in her kindness, she had simply let her be when her words fell on deaf ears.
Then it was her father…
She didn’t want to remember it, but…there was a lot of shouting. Even if she didn’t always like him, Ena had said things she very much regretted right now, things she ought to say to no one, no matter what.
Finally, poor Akito had tried talking sense into her, only to end up–
“Oh…Oh no.” She had wounded her own brother. The sheer realization of that fact made her want to vomit, but she likely had nothing in the tank to make that physically possible.
But it only got worse, because then Mafuyu had come, and they argued, and they fought, and she…she punched her. Multiple times. She attacked her like some crazed animal. Mafuyu, a girl who, in spite of the coldness of her words, was genuinely a gentle, compassionate soul, a girl who was only there because she was worried for her.
At least Mafuyu had managed to subdue her but…what would have happened if it wasn’t her? What if it were Mizuki, who likely couldn’t raise a hand against her, or Kanade, who would be even weaker?
Those very scenarios twisted and turned around Ena’s mind, torturing her endlessly until she spiraled deep, deep into her own subconsciousness.
She wanted to disappear.
She had done something unforgivable, something that could only be repaired by her leaving the people she loved and ensuring she would never hurt them again.
But right as those bad thoughts crystallized into that familiar desire to disappear, the girl at the edge of her bed stirred, slowly waking up from her uncomfortable-looking sleep.
“Hmm…” She opened her eyes, letting the blue-tinted purples glow against the light of day, piercing through the ajar curtains of Akito’s room. Those purples then came to find Ena, directly looking at her with an expression she could only comprehend as ‘a very loyal dog sees its owner again’.
“Good morning, Ena…” Stifling a yawn, Mafuyu greeted her like it was the most casual of things. Like they had simply had a sleepover and there was nothing more to discuss. Like she hadn’t literally hit her the night before.
“How…why are you– I mean.”
“Akito slept on the couch, if you were curious.”
She wasn’t. Mafuyu had predicted the wrong question like the idiot she was, which did get a slight chuckle out of Ena.
But her expression turned morose again. She couldn’t do this. To pretend it was alright for her to talk to her that way.
“I…did something really awful to you…to him. You shouldn’t…forgive me.”
“Oh, I’m not forgiving you.”
“H-Huh?” In spite of what she herself had asked, Ena was somewhat surprised to hear Mafuyu actually agree with her. Her face seemed genuinely serious as she continued to speak.
“You punched me twice, so you owe me two meals. Ah, and you slapped me, so that's a dessert.”
And then that facsimile of seriousness completely shattered with her next words.
“Two meals..? A dessert? What?!”
“I thought that made mathematical sense.”
“YOUR BRAIN MAKES NO MATHEMATICAL SENSE. I-I… I’m–” She was genuinely at a loss for words, aghast, unable to formulate even the simplest of sentences to rebuke just how stupid of a concept this even was.
And the worst part? Mafuyu looked 100% serious, which is probably what pissed Ena off the most.
However, just as she was about to find just the right words to retort to this idiocy, she felt a hand gently fall on top of hers, initiating a soft contact that threatened to get a gasp of surprise out of the artist.
“It’s normal for you to feel guilty, I think. I’m not saying I’m fine with what you did.” The lyricist started talking, her hand moving silently, absent-mindedly, over the artist’s. “However…you were not entirely yourself either. The Ena I know would never hit her friends, or tell them to disappear like that.”
“T-That’s just an excuse! There’s no ‘this Ena’ or ‘that Ena’. No matter what happened…they were still my words.”
“Then…am I the one who called Kanade cursed?”
Ena was stunned into silence. She knew exactly what Mafuyu was getting at; the peculiar separation she would draw between her and who she was back then, when moonlighting as the indie composer OWN. In fact, just last night, she had made that same distinction.
But the artist was still not convinced. She needed punishment for her actions. She had raised her hand against two of the people she loved and cherished the most, and had been particularly rough with Mafuyu.
“Would you like me…to hit you in return?”
“Haaah?!” And once again, Ena had been completely taken aback by Mafuyu’s words. And they didn’t stop there either.
“Of course, you would first need to get back on your feet. But once you’re well-fed, hydrated and able of body and mind, I will punch you twice in the stomach. Then, I'll slap you over the mouth. That way, we’ll be even. Is that okay?”
“OF COURSE IT ISN’T??? I DON’T WANNA GET HIT!!!”
“Okay, then meals and dessert it is.” Mafuyu didn’t smile, but Ena knew, in her heart of hearts, that if she could, she would be giving her a shit-eating grin right about now.
“You’re so…infuriating.” Ena could feel the corners of her eyes burn up with what felt like tears that struggled to come out, yet her voice wasn’t so shy. She cried, her tears rare, her voice loud. She sobbed all the feelings of self-hatred and inadequacy she had internalized over the last few days because of that stupid project.
“I…I was so awful to you…why do– why do you still–”
“Didn't I tell you? I need you to keep drawing. Just as I need Kanade's music, I need your art to find myself.”
Ena couldn't believe her ears. She was…needed? Not just her, but her art? It made her feel warm, so warm, like she was gently being enveloped in a blanket of love and acceptance. Mafuyu had always been quite rigid with Ena's art before, but now, she finally realized – it had deeply affected her, just as Kanade's music had affected all three of them.
So she cried, and cried, and cried again, and before she realized it, she was gently being held in the arms of that annoying girl who had helped her so much. The selfsame one she had apparently managed to reach with her art.
Mafuyu had gotten up and wrapped her arms around Ena’s fragile frame, letting the artist lay her head on her shoulder. She felt wrapped in a cocoon of comfort and love she did not deserve, which only made her sob louder, but it never deterred the girl holding her, rigid, strong, seemingly cold yet who burned brighter than most beneath the surface.
Today…that girl, Mafuyu Asahina, was her savior.
Sniffling her nonexistent tears away, her voice still weak from everything else, Ena slowly looked up, meeting the eyes of the girl who would not leave her, even in spite of all she had done.
The artist pondered, mused, she thought long and hard about how much she needed to apologize, make amends, become a better person.
But in the moment, there was only one thing that traversed her mind.
Those three, timeless words that had echoed throughout the history of humanity, time and time again.
She breathed, her lungs aching within, pursed her lips open, and spoke.
“I love you…Mafuyu.”
…
MESSAGES
Mizuki Akiyama
Akito Shinonome: <Yo, wanted to update you on the Ena sitch.>
Akito Shinonome: <She woke up earlier, we've since had her eat and rest, and she's already gaining back some color.>
Akito Shinonome: <Talk about a miracle worker though, Asahina's kinda impressive.>
Akito Shinonome: <Anyways, just wanted to make sure you knew in case those two forgot to message you.>
Akito Shinonome: <See ya at school.>
…
As Akito glanced back at his phone one last time before putting it back in his pocket, a content sigh escaped his lips, feeling genuinely relieved about this turn of events.
Even if the ache on his arm wasn't going to leave just yet, he didn't hold it against Ena. Besides, it would work as blackmail material to get unlimited pancakes for a while.
Heh.
Ding dong!
His childish musings were interrupted by the unexpected ringing of the bell.
“Huh, figured our folks would only come back tomorrow. Maybe their date went poorly.”
Absent-mindedly, he went for the door, seemingly not realizing the inherent contradiction of his parents not needing to ring their own house's door bell.
Perhaps that was why he was so surprised when he opened the door and saw two familiar girls standing there, one who avoided his eyes, and the other who defiantly stared back at him.
“Yo, Lil Broski!”
“Um, good morning…”
His contentment from earlier faded into a vague feeling that this day would be particularly loud and annoying. Maybe he'd be better off running to the Garage.
Oh well, it would probably not be so bad to leave Ena in the company of her closest, dearest friends.
“Come in you two, make yourselves at home.”