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Misaki was passed out in the courtyard of the school.
"Misaki, c'mon!" Kokoro grabbed her. "We have to go meet Kanon and the others."
Misaki's vision blurred as her head bounced against Kokoro's shoulder like a ragdoll. "Why...is the ground moving?" She suddenly was fully awake. "Are you carrying me!?"
Kokoro grinned without breaking stride, her arms locked under Misaki's knees and shoulders as she barreled through the gate. "Of course I'm carrying you! You looked so peaceful napping under that tree, but we’re on a tight schedule! Besides, you need to get Michelle ready for the performance tomorrow, remember?"
Misaki groaned. "Right....Michelle...." She mumbled. That's all she was in this stupid band.
Kokoro ran through her mansion gate and the front door, where the others were waiting. She dropped Misaki.
Misaki sat down, contemplating her life choices.
Hagumi leaned in. "What's wrong, Mii-kun? Did Kokoron break you?"
Misaki laughed, an unnatural smile on her face. "What are you talking about? I'm great!"
Kanon shuffled forward, clutching her drumsticks nervously. "Um...Misaki-chan? We, uh...kinda need Michelle’s paws repaired...."
"Leave it to me!" Misaki said cheerfully, going to grab her sewing kit.
"Mii-kun's acting strange," Hagumi muttered.
Misaki sat in the other room, sewing. Her fake smile stayed still despite no one else being in the room. "Michelle doesn't need to be sad," she told herself. "She makes people happy. That's all she needs to do."
"Misaki's fine!" Kokoro insisted. "She's Michelle, and Michelle’s always happy!"
Misaki broke the needle in her hand. "Hello, Happy World! doesn't need Misaki....it only needs Michelle...."
Kanon knocked before walking in. "Misaki-chan, I brought tea-" The cup dropped to the floor as she saw the needle embedded in Misaki's palm.
Misaki grinned as she stared at the blood on her hand. "Huh? Why am I bleeding? Michelle’s not supposed to bleed. That's strange."
Kanon’s breath hitched, her hands fluttering uselessly in the air like startled birds. "F-Fueee! Misaki-chan, your hand-"
"Who's Misaki?" Misaki asked cheerfully.
Kanon looked horrified. "Misaki-chan...."
Misaki chuckled. "You're confused, Kanon-san. I'm not Misaki. Hello, Happy World! doesn't need Misaki. That's just how it is."
Kanon’s knees wobbled as she took a step back, her drumsticks clattering to the floor. "Why...?"
"Michelle is happy," Misaki explained with a smile. "Misaki is boring."
Kanon’s fingers trembled as she reached for Misaki’s wrist, her touch feather-light, as if afraid the contact might shatter her completely. "Misaki-chan," she whispered, voice cracking, "please stop."
"Misaki doesn't need to exist," Misaki replied.
Kanon ran out. "Kokoro-chan, we need to take Misaki-chan to a doctor!"
Kokoro blinked, her ever-present grin faltering for the first time in years. "Doctor? But Michelle’s not sick!"
"This isn't about Michelle!" Kanon yelled. "This is about Misaki-chan!"
Meanwhile, Misaki had taken the needle out of her palm, using it to draw smily faces in her skin.
"But she *is* Michelle!" Kokoro argued.
"Hey guys, why is Mii-kun drawing on herself with a needle?" Hagumi asked.
Kaoru shot up. "She's WHAT!?"
"She needs a doctor! Now!" Kanon insisted.
"I never thought red could be so pretty," Misaki muttered.
"Damnit," Kaoru cursed.
Hours later, Misaki was sitting in a hospital bed with Kanon and Kaoru. Her palm had to be stitched.
Kanon hovered by the bedside, twisting the hem of her skirt between her fingers. "Misaki-chan," she murmured, voice small, "do you...remember what happened?"
Misaki laughed. "There's that name again! Are you sure you haven't gotten memory loss, Kanon-san? That's not my name."
Kaoru leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her usual dramatic flair subdued for once. "This is no stage play," she muttered. "Drop the act."
"ACT!?" Misaki suddenly screamed, snapping entirely. "You wanted Michelle! You wanted this! Which one is it!?"
Kanon flinched at Misaki's outburst, her hands flying to cover her mouth. "F-Fueee!!"
"You don't want Misaki? Fine, I'll be Michelle. You don't want Michelle? Fine, I'll be Misaki. Which one do you want? I keep switching back and forth. Nothing seems to work!" Misaki chuckled bitterly. "I'll keep breaking myself over and over, rip myself apart again and again. But it's never enough happiness, is it?"
"Misaki-chan-" Kanon began.
Misaki turned away. "I quit."
Kaoru stayed with Misaki throughout the night when Kanon went home.
"Isn't it funny?" Misaki mused. "Bleeding, breaking, ripping apart. I used to hate it. But I don't feel anything anymore." She smiled hollowly. "Is Michelle’s version of bleeding the thread coming loose?" She picked at the stitches. "These are thread, right?"
Kaoru caught Misaki’s wrist before she could tug the stitches loose again. "Enough," she said, her voice uncharacteristically sharp. "The thread isn't coming undone. You are."
Misaki turned to stare at her with a blank smile.
Kaoru exhaled sharply through her nose, her grip tightening just enough to ground Misaki without hurting her further. "Listen to me," she said, voice low and stripped of its usual theatrics. "You are not a costume. You are not a *prop*."
"But Michelle is," Misaki responded flatly. "Isn't that fun? Michelle exists to make people smile."
'You think Kokoro dragged you into this because she wanted a bear? No. She wanted *you*."
Misaki suddenly grabbed Kaoru. "KOKORO DIDN'T WANT ME!" She was breathing hard. "I'm not free...I'm not happy. It's HER fault!" She laughed again. "But that's okay. I don't have to be Misaki anymore."
"Misaki-"
Misaki tug the stitches out, watching as she bled. Her hand shook. "Why...why is Michelle bleeding? She's not....I'm not...."
Kaoru’s hands clamped down on Misaki’s wrists, pinning them to the bed.
"Kaoru-san, why is Michelle bleeding?" Misaki asked. "She's not supposed to bleed. Hey, who's hands are these, anyway?"
Kaoru’s grip tightened, her knuckles whitening. "These are *your* hands, Misaki. Not Michelle’s."
Misaki stared down at her hands. "Why is there no fur there?"
Kaoru hesitated for the first time in her life—her usual confidence fractured by the unnerving vacancy in Misaki’s eyes. "Misaki," she repeated, slower now, like she was speaking to a spooked animal, "these are *your* hands. Look at them properly."
Misaki shook her head. "These aren't Michelle’s hands. You're lying! Kaoru-san, if I peel all this red away, will Michelle be underneath?"
Kaoru’s breath hitched as Misaki’s fingers clawed at her own skin, nails scraping over fresh stitches. "Stop it," Kaoru ordered, voice cracking. She wrestled Misaki’s hands down again, pressing them into the thin hospital sheets. "You’re going to hurt yourself."
"I NEED Michelle!" Misaki began fighting her, struggling to claw at her own skin. She began to sob. Misaki ended up crying the entire night.
Morning light filtered in through the window. Only when the nurses sedated her did Misaki’s crying finally end as she was knocked out.
Kanon came to visit after school that day, but Misaki was still asleep from the heavy sedatives. "How is she?"
"She had to be sedated this morning because she was crying all night," Kaoru replied.
Misaki slowly opened her eyes.
Kanon ran over. "Misaki-chan!"
"Who's Misaki?" Misaki asked. "Misaki doesn't make people smile. Michelle does."
Kaoru facepalmed. "Not this again."
"Misaki, I'm sorry!" Kokoro ran in, hugging her. "This is all my fault! I should've never forced Michelle on to you like that!"
Misaki blinked. "Kokoro...."
Kokoro began to cry. "I'm sorry, Misaki!!!"
"Why are you crying?" Misaki croaked.
"Because I hurt you!" Kokoro sobbed. "I've made up my mind. We're getting rid of Michelle."
"Fueee!? Kokoro-chan, we don't need to go that far!" Kanon waved her hands.
Tears fell down Misaki's cheeks at Kokoro's words. "I don't want that."
Kokoro's breath hitched, her grip tightening on Misaki's hospital gown. "But Michelle is hurting you!"
Misaki began to cry again. "I don't want Michelle to disappear!!!"
"Kokoro!" Kaoru hissed. "We just got her to stop crying!"
Hagumi walked in, holding melon bread. "Ummm....I brought-"
"Hagumi!!!" Kokoro and Kaoru scolded.
Hagumi froze in the doorway, melon bread clutched in both hands like a sacred offering. Her wide eyes darted between Kokoro’s tear-streaked face and Misaki’s trembling form. "Did...did I miss a really sad party?" She whispered.
Kanon facepalmed.
Kaoru stood up. "Should I ask the nurses to sedate her again?"
No one answered.
Kaoru disappeared to get the nurses, anyway.
The nurses walked in, sedating Misaki again.
Kokoro stared down at her hands. "This is all my fault...."
Kaoru sighed. "You never think before you act, do you?"
Kokoro’s fingers dug into her own knees, her usual boundless energy coiled into something tight and unfamiliar—guilt. "I just wanted everyone to be happy," she murmured, voice fraying at the edges.
It took months for Misaki to recover. Performances had to be canceled, therapy sessions were grueling, looking in the mirror was scary. But slowly, Misaki was able to wear Michelle’s costume without freaking out. It took a while, but the band was finally back onstage, Michelle and all.