Archive of Our Own

Mortis was an expert imitator. 

She had to be. It came with the territory of all she had been created to do in Mutsumi’s life. The world had decided Mutsumi was living unacceptably whether it be by not capitalizing on the supposed aura of her parents or by not enjoying the social situations she had been dragged to from a young age. No one was ever satisfied with her, and so, Mortis was born. She would be somebody everyone would always adore. She would be anything and everything depending on the moment. If it was not her, then someone else within their mind would step forward to close the distance. They would never disappoint anyone again if they could be everything the world had ever craved of them. 

The best way for Mortis to make something of this critical responsibility that had been placed on her shoulders was to copy the behavior of others. She did not need to find all-new ways to satisfy those around her; she could simply do what had worked for the people who had come before her. She could be anything the rest of the world wanted, and Mortis gladly shifted herself to fit every mold that others demanded of her. She would be wanted. She would be loved. She would be safe. And it would all be because Mortis would be everything the world could ever crave. 

Mortis had learned to keep an eye out for anything she thought could learn from others. She would hardly be able to maintain her skills in imitation and performance if she allowed herself to grow complacent. She needed to be willing to take charge and follow the lead of those who had proven themselves strong at putting on a show too. Imitating others came to her naturally, but she could always learn more. Mortis already followed what Sakiko did and committed all of her smaller habits to memory. Sakiko was a source of safety and comfort for the others in her mind, Mutsumi included, so Mortis brought them peace by following in her footsteps. Soyo was much the same, and Mortis picked up a few of her habits as well. There were little pieces of every person who they had ever come to admire living within their mind. Whether it be for good reasons or bad, Mutsumi and Mortis were a collection of fragments brought to life by all of the people they had met, and Mortis doubted that would ever change. 

Mortis was working on it on her own though. She knew her closest friends wanted her to try and claim a bit more autonomy for herself, and they were coaxing her out of constant imitation in favor of expressing her emotions and fears freely. For someone as seemingly open as Mortis, she often kept her secrets pressed close to her chest, knowing the danger that could come with them spiraling into the light. The world would not accept her based on who she was on principle, so she copied others and called that close enough to authenticity. Beyond that, Mortis did not know much about who she was when she was not staking her identity on protecting Mutsumi or on copying what had already helped others to become successful in their own lives. Mortis hoped she would make it to full honesty eventually, but it was a slow process. At least Mutsumi was there to help guide her through it. 

Because of her history with copying others and her recent rise in introspection, Mortis had been paying much more attention to those around her. She could learn a lot from their behaviors, and Mortis was hoping it would either benefit her survival or help her to leave her fears of abandonment behind once and for all. Recovery was hardly linear, but Mortis was trying her hardest. At least she could say she was learning something from what she was seeing. 

For example, Mortis had learned that Uika was a lot like her. 

Well… Sort of. Mortis didn’t know if she would ever be able to say that Uika was exactly like her. For one, Uika’s imitations always felt hollow in some way Mortis couldn’t quite describe. No matter how hard she tried, Mortis simply couldn’t get to the bottom of the oddness that guided each of Uika’s actions. Uika did her best to hide it when she was copying others, but anyone who was willing to watch her closely could pick up on it. Mutsumi and Mortis, for example, had come to watch Uika carefully out of the hope that they would one day be able to follow her example of confidence as the leading woman of Ave Mujica. In doing so, they had realized Uika had just as much of a habit of copying others as they did. 

That didn’t mean it manifested in the same way though. For Mutsumi and Mortis, following the examples of others led to a degree of internalization. When they saw someone behaving in a certain way, they committed it to memory, and the traits wound up being applied either to a new role on their stage or to someone who had been playing a part for years. They studied what others did and tried to understand just why it had worked so they would be able to utilize it for themselves. It worked in some situations, and while it failed in others, Mortis knew it had always been the best shot they had at getting by. If the world wanted a master performer on par with their parents, then that was what they were going to get. 

When Uika copied others, however, it felt… Different. Mortis had been trying and failing to come up with a better word for it for ages, always falling short the instant she thought she had finally figured it out. Uika didn’t seem to recognize the weight of what she was doing or why she had made that choice. She simply followed the lead of what others had done before her. There wasn’t much depth behind it, and Mortis didn’t think she could call it a performance in the same way she and Mutsumi had to act to survive. It was simply… Different. There that word was again, a pitiful substitute for anything of value Mortis could have tried to wrestle together to address the situation in better language. 

Ave Mujica’s members were practicing in the basement of the Wakaba home when Mortis finally reached her breaking point. After finishing one last run of “Octagram Dance,” Uika let out a small sigh and turned to face the rest of the group. Mortis was hardly one to talk, but at times, she felt like something about Uika was simply… Uncanny. The rest of Ave Mujica had said much the same about Mortis before, but Mortis was confident she was right when she said it about Uika too. “What do you all think?” Uika asked. “I know we’re coming up on the end of our scheduled time, but if we have to go a while longer…”

“I think it was a strong run,” Sakiko replied, and Uika immediately nodded. Uika went along with just about anything Sakiko said to her. Mortis couldn’t help but worry about it. Mutsumi acted similarly at times, and Mortis had to pull her out of it when Sakiko hurt her after Ave Mujica’s initial disbandment. There was more for Mutsumi than spending all of her time following after Sakiko, and Mortis wanted to prove it. Mortis thought Uika needed to learn the same lesson, but something told her Uika would be even more resistant to it than Mutsumi had been. Given how much Mortis and Mutsumi had once argued about it, that was certainly impressive, and it discouraged Mortis from trying it with Uika. If it had been that much of a struggle for someone she knew a lot better, then getting Uika to listen to her would be like pulling teeth with her bare hands. 

“I guess that’s it then,” Nyamu concluded, stretching her arms high above her head with her drumsticks still in hand. “I have an interview to get to this afternoon anyway. Umiko will kill me if I’m late for it.”

“Then you had better get going,” Umiri told her, moving to pack up her bass. Mortis knew neither one of them had anything to worry about; Umiri was nowhere near as aggressive as Nyamu was making her sound, and Nyamu was very strict about punctuality for both her solo work and events with Ave Mujica. Besides, the two of them cared about one another too much to let any conversation devolve beyond a brief spat. They may not have let it show often, but Mortis knew the truth. She had watched Nyamu and Umiri for long enough to know exactly how they both felt about each other regardless of how it contradicted what they said aloud. With time came familiarity, and Mortis thought there was a lot more than mere familiarity between Nyamu and Umiri these days.

“I’ll need to get some food on the way there too,” Nyamu murmured as she started to pull her bag back together. She was talking more to herself than the rest of the band, but the distinction ultimately didn’t matter much. In a room like that, all of them could hear one another regardless of what they meant to say to who. 

“I agree,” Uika nodded. She had set her guitar aside during Nyamu and Umiri’s exchange, freeing her hands to cross her fingers in front of her chest. “Going to an interview without food isn’t good for your health!” 

Mortis whirled around to face Uika, her eyes wide. She remembered that phrase very well. It was something one of the other roles in her mind said. The chicken was a facet of Mortis, one of the pieces that presented themself to Mutsumi when she was first realizing what was going on inside of their head. These days, Mortis knew their mind was often divided in two halves: the roles that resembled her and the roles that resembled Mutsumi. The former group tended to consist more of the overt imitators, and Mortis had picked that line up from some old show her mother had made her watch when she was a child. 

But the specific inflection was something Mortis had thrown in for herself, and Uika had copied it perfectly. It had been a long while since Mortis had said it, but Uika had been the only one around to hear her say it. Mortis squinted at Uika, not that it did anything to get Uika’s attention. Instead, Uika was waiting to see how Nyamu would react. Mortis would have expected an idol like Uika to not mind what others thought of her as much. Being an idol practically required thick skin in the job description because of how much access the world had to idols’ lives. Uika, however, seemed overly aware of the opinions of others, and she wanted to perform to make sure she followed their expectations perfectly. For someone so public, Uika was awfully sensitive. 

In that way, she wasn’t at all unlike Mortis. They were opposites in some aspects of their performances, but Mortis understood the desire to be liked above everything else. She would have been lying if she said she hadn’t pushed herself beyond her limits for the sake of gaining the affection of a crowd. Uika must have been much the same way even if something about her performance still struck Mortis as strange. All they wanted was to be loved, and both of them were willing to do anything as long as they thought it would get them a little bit more from the audience. 

Mortis was the only one staring at Uika strangely now, not that this surprised her. Mortis had been alone with Uika when she told her that line the first time, so no one else in the room was capable of recognizing it. They all thought of it as another one of Uika’s odd quirks that would go unaddressed because none of them had the verbiage to express their thoughts on it. 

Sure enough, Nyamu offered Uika nothing more than a small laugh out of the corner of her mouth as she dropped her drumsticks into her bag. Nyamu preferred to bring her own over using the sets laying around the studio in the Wakaba mansion, and Mortis pretended to not have figured the reason out. Nyamu shot Minami dirty looks from time to time, and Mortis chose to not comment on it. Maybe some things were best left alone even when viewed by a living performance. When it came to Minami, Mortis believed silence was always best.

“That’s true,” Nyamu agreed. “I’ll have to be careful with what I choose though. I need to watch what I’m eating now…” This time, Mortis chose to not say anything about Nyamu’s odd eating habits. She knew it would only make for awkward conversation, and if Nyamu wanted to talk about it, then surely she would. Until then, Mortis would choose the path of politeness, and she knew Mutsumi would reinforce her decision within their own mind. One day, they would ask Nyamu to take care of herself more… After she and Mutsumi had addressed their own odd relationship with food. Nyamu would hardly listen to a hypocrite. That was yet another thing they had learned about her.

Uika nodded with a smile, practically glowing from the approval Nyamu had given her. Uika started to get her belongings together next, and Mortis continued to study her. She wanted to say Uika was behaving genuinely, but Mortis simply couldn’t say for certain. Something about Uika just bothered her. Mortis couldn’t understand the performance at all, and she wasn’t sure if Uika considered it one in the first place. Mortis knew that was what it had to be though, and she couldn’t leave it be any longer. She had to get to the bottom of this, and she was going to do it now. 

Nyamu finished picking her things up first, and she darted over to the staircase. “I’ll see you next time!” Her footsteps faded as she disappeared up to the main floor of the house, and Mortis watched her go with a wave. Mortis would have to see how Nyamu’s interview went later on. She doubted she would be able to shake her curiosity for long once it was released to the public. There were a lot of things Mortis could learn from Nyamu, not that Nyamu ever seemed to see it that way. Mortis had learned years ago to not comment too much on the insecurities of those around her, and so, she didn’t breathe a word of it. Perhaps there would come a day when she and Nyamu could discuss it more honestly. Until then, Mortis would wait. 

Umiri was the next to depart, offering a nod to the band and then vanishing up the stairs. Sakiko pulled her bag over her shoulder and glanced over at Uika, waiting expectantly for her to come along. She may as well have not bothered since Uika was going to trail after her no matter what she did, something every person in the room knew but remained too polite to say aloud. “Are you ready to go, Uika?” Sakiko asked. 

“Hold on a moment,” Mortis suddenly cut in, and both Uika and Sakiko turned to face her. “Do you think you could stay behind for a while, Uika-chan? I wanted to talk to you about something.” She glanced over at Sakiko, already knowing Uika may try to find an excuse for Sakiko to stay too. Now that the two of them lived together, it was much harder to find alone time with either one of them. “Alone.”

Uika’s eyes widened, and she glanced over her shoulder at Sakiko. She looked less like a teenage girl and more like a child asking for her parent’s approval to agree to a friend’s invitation for a playdate. Sakiko nodded, and Uika forced herself to nod too. Mortis couldn’t tell if Uika was disappointed or not, and she decided she would save the question for after she was certain Sakiko would not be interrupting them. “Alright,” Uika agreed. “If you really want to… How long will it take?”

“I’m not sure,” Mortis shrugged, walking over to the couch and plopping down onto it beside Uika’s bag. “Sakiko-chan should probably go home ahead of you though. We could end up talking for a while.” It would all come down to how honest Uika felt like being when Mortis asked her questions. If Uika wanted to be upfront with her answers, then they wouldn’t be long at all. If not, then… 

Uika hesitated once again, looking at Sakiko out of the corner of her eye like she was silently pleading for salvation. Sakiko did not interrupt though, instead watching as Uika walked over and sat down beside Mortis on the sofa. “I’ll see you later, Uika,” Sakiko said simply, and she breezed her way over to the staircase. Seconds later, her footsteps faded into the distance and then vanished entirely. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Mortis briefly closed her eyes, finding Mutsumi standing just beside her. Mutsumi had agreed to let Mortis handle the day’s rehearsal as part of Mortis’ recent attempts to learn how to play the guitar. The only condition was that Mutsumi had to stand close by in case Mortis needed help or in case one of the other members of the group had to talk to her. She had been quiet though, choosing to let Mortis handle as much as possible. Now though, she had her questions, and Mutsumi walked closer to Mortis with a worried frown. “Do you think Uika will want to talk about this?” 

“I’m just going to chat with her for a bit. It’s not a big deal,” Mortis assured Mutsumi. “We’re just going to have a conversation. You can listen in if you want.” Even before Mutsumi responded, Mortis knew how she was going to respond. Out of everyone in the world, Mortis had observed Mutsumi the most, and she could guess Mutsumi’s reactions before she moved to show them these days. They had come a long way since their previous battles against one another for control over their life. Now, Mortis was confident she knew Mutsumi better than anyone else could ever imagine. 

Just as Mortis had expected, Mutsumi nodded and stepped over to Mortis’ side. “I’ll listen.” Mortis knew what Mutsumi was really trying to accomplish with all of this. In a worst case scenario where Mutsumi thought Mortis had gone too far, she would be able to intervene and salvage her relationship with Uika as long as she was close. That wasn’t an option if she let too much distance grow between herself and the front of their mind. Mortis was fine with it. Mutsumi’s insight would help her in a conversation like this. Mutsumi could have had useful information to supply for Mortis’ investigation to the truth of Uika’s heart, and they would have to work together to crack the case. 

“So… Um…” Uika began, wringing her hands together nervously. “What did you want to talk about, Mortis-chan? I-I think it’s you, at the very least… It seemed like you were too talkative in rehearsals to be Mutsumi-chan…”

“It is me,” Mortis confirmed. She moved a little bit closer to Uika, almost like she thought she would get whatever answer was waiting for her a few seconds sooner if she closed the distance between them. “I wanted to ask you… Why do you imitate other people?”

Uika’s eyes widened, and Mortis saw all of the color drain from her already pale skin. “W-Why do I…?” She shook her head, pressing a smile across her lips. It would have been convincing if she was not sharing it with a chameleon, but Mortis knew how to act far too well to fall for the show. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mortis-chan.”

“You copy people all the time. You did it just a little bit ago when we were saying goodbye to the rest of the band,” Mortis told her. “You copied my little…” She pressed her fingers in front of her chest, layering one on top of the other. Uika had layered them the opposite way when she said it, but Mortis knew this was the way she had always done it. “It’s not good for your health!” 

“Oh… Did I?” Uika asked, trying to feign confusion even though she already knew Mortis wasn’t going to fall for it. “I didn’t realize I was doing that at all… I guess it was just a coincidence. It must have been.”

“But I’m the only one who has ever said that around you,” Mortis pressed. “And you even did the same gesture with your fingers that I did when I first told you that! I don’t think it could have come from any other person but me. It couldn’t have come from any other place but me either. You probably don’t know what show I got the phrase from, and it doesn’t have the little hand gesture with it in the show either.”

Uika blinked at Mortis, looking less like the lost girl she had been in Sakiko’s presence and more like a cornered animal. “I… I don’t really know what you’re talking about…” Uika reiterated, but her voice was losing more and more of its confidence the longer the conversation dragged on. “Anything you’ve noticed is just a coincidence. I don’t know what you mean at all.”

“It’s not just what you did now,” Mortis went on. “There are other things I’ve noticed too. Sometimes, you talk a little bit like Mana-chan when you’ve been around her a lot. You even serve donuts the same way Mana-chan does.” Uika opened her mouth to ask just when Mana and Mortis had been around one another, and Mortis held up a hand to silence her. “Not right now. You say good morning in the same way Nyamu-chan does when she’s talking normally and not like Nyamuchi. You copy some of my phrases aside from the one you just used. When you really look closely, it seems like you’re always copying people a little bit.” Mortis tilted her head to the side like a curious dog staring at a treat. “So what’s the reason for it? Why do you do that?”

Uika continued to watch Mortis with panicked eyes for a long moment. For such a famous idol, she wasn’t the best at acting, though Mortis supposed that was why Mana was the one who had taken up other performance work with their agency instead. Uika tried to summon an excuse to her tongue, but she came up short, and she decided instead to reach down to pick up her bag. “I-I don’t want to leave Saki-chan alone for too long… I should get back to her so we can talk about what we’re going to have tonight for dinner,” Uika murmured. “I’m not sure of what you’re talking about, Mortis-chan. I’m sorry I can’t help.”

“I thought you were pushing her too hard,” Mutsumi told Mortis within their mind. “If she doesn’t want to answer, then you’re not going to be able to force her.” Mutsumi didn’t say aloud that Uika could be one of the most evasive people either one of them knew, but Mortis was thinking it just as she knew Mutsumi was. 

That didn’t mean Mortis was going to let Uika get away with burying the truth and then fleeing at the first sign of danger though. Mortis had come into this conversation with a plan to uncover the truth, and that was just what she was going to do. Dragging herself back into her body, Mortis reached out and grabbed Uika’s wrist just as the other girl went to stand. “It’s not something you need to be ashamed of,” Mortis told her. “I imitate people all the time too. I was curious about it because it’s something we have in common.”

Uika stared down at Mortis, unable to decide if she should pull away and flee or stay there to weather the storm. “I…” Uika choked out, the sound far more fragile than just about any other word Mortis had ever heard her speak. Given this reaction, Mortis was confident Uika knew exactly what she was talking about. Mortis didn’t know why Uika was so resistant to admitting it when it was so obvious, but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying to dig deeper. 

When Mortis realized Uika wasn’t going to be saying anything first, she offered the other girl a smile. “How about this?” Mortis began. “I’ll tell you my reasons for it first, and if you want to talk about it after that, then you can. You can leave if you don’t want to. Is that alright?”

Uika’s gaze wandered somewhere else, settling on the spot where Mortis was holding her wrist. She didn’t pull it out of Mortis’ reach though, instead returning to the couch and taking a seat. Mortis released Uika from her grasp once she was certain she would not be running, and Uika offered her a small nod. “Alright,” she murmured. There was shame in her eyes unlike anything Mortis had seen before. It was ready to consume Uika entirely if she let her guard down, and Mortis could only hope she would be able to get through to Uika before that moment came. 

There was only one way of knowing for certain though, and that was to get started with sharing everything she knew about her own habits. “Okay,” Mortis said, leaning back into the couch. She pressed her palms into the cushions beside her, hoping to seem as open as possible so Uika wouldn’t unintentionally take anything she was doing as a threat. “I’ve been imitating people for a long time. I think I’ve been doing it before I even realized I was a person on my own. There are a bunch of others in my head who do it too. That’s what we got used to when we were younger.”

Uika nodded slowly, trying to find some degree of peace in Mortis’ presence now that she had been set free. “I… I remember your monologue at that one televised show,” Uika began, choosing each word as if she feared it would explode if she struck it incorrectly. “The way you were carrying yourself and speaking… It reminded me a lot of Saki-chan.”

“That’s what I was going for!” Mortis beamed, and Uika nodded once again, her eyes shaded by something distant. “I’ve been imitating others for a long time. From the time Mutsumi-chan and I were young, we were always expected to be just like our parents. That was what the world wanted from us. Even if it wasn’t what we wanted, we didn’t have much of a choice. When you grow up in the spotlight that way, you have to satisfy the crowd.” Mortis spoke of it with such ease, but she knew it was a difficult topic for both her and Mutsumi to even come close to. If Mortis was not worried about accidentally chasing Uika away after finally getting her to sit down to talk, she would have been speaking of it with far more severity. The conversation would have looked less like casual banter and more like the solemn exchange Mortis had shared with Sakiko in the karaoke booth many months ago. 

Uika remained silent, and Mortis could see she was biting down on the inside of her lip. Mortis took that as her cue to go on. Uika would interrupt with her thoughts when she was ready, and Mortis had more than enough to say until then. “Different people wanted different things from us. Sometimes, they wanted a perfect, quiet daughter. That was where Mutsumi-chan came from. Other times, they wanted an outgoing child who could do anything with a smile on her face. That was where I came from. We got used to giving other people what they wanted since that was all we could really do.” Mortis’ smile began to slip, and she closed her eyes, suddenly finding the truth of her circumstances too much to look at. “People would get upset with us if we didn’t give them what we wanted, so… We became anything they could ever want. If you look inside our head, you’ll find all sorts of roles for all sorts of situations. That’s how you keep people happy. You have to be adaptable.”

Mortis heard Uika hum softly beside her, but she still didn’t open her eyes. Instead, Mortis stepped back into her mind and looked out over the audience before her. That was where all of the other roles waited when they had not been given a reason to take to the stage. Even though more and more of them were coming out to share life with Mutsumi and Mortis now, they remained in the other part of the theater when they were not specifically needed. All of them watched Mortis and Mutsumi’s performance with a scrutinizing gaze, waiting to see if there would come a moment when they were needed. 

After all, each and every one of them had been needed at one point before. They had all emerged from the darkness behind the curtains to give a show to satisfy some audience outside of their body. There had been a person who declared that Mutsumi and Mortis were not enough as the dolls they were, and so, someone else was necessary. They could give anybody they met anything they wanted. It was hardly pretty, but it was the way of life. Mortis doubted she would ever have the space to grieve knowing all of this. As long as the world still craved more from her and Mutsumi, she would have to perform, and her personal desires would have to be set aside. 

Mortis wondered sometimes who she and Mutsumi could have been if they had not been bent and twisted to fit the desires of others. What personalities could they have developed alone or together if they were not expected to follow the orders that had been pressed into their hearts? Who would they be if not for the imitation and expectation that had come to shape every move they both made? Mortis was not sure, and oftentimes, the thought filled her with a deep ache of sadness that refused to leave her be. It was an alternate life best left unexplored. Whether Mortis liked it or not, she and Mutsumi had suffered in this world, and they would have to hold that pain for the rest of their days. 

Mortis pried her eyes open once again and forced a smile onto her face. “The best way to give other people what they want is to be willing to copy what else makes them happy,” she went on, hoping the pause had not been too long or awkward for Uika. “That’s why I do so much to learn more about acting. We were never able to make anyone happy by just being ourselves, so we copy what else they like. It makes things a lot easier.” Life was considerably less stressful when they were trying to copy what others craved too. They had no need to go through the dizzying cycle of experimentation for satisfaction when they had a simple blueprint to copy as long as they were willing to cast aside their humanity to become something less than themselves. 

“It’s not all perfect though,” Mortis went on. She curled her fingers around the edge of the couch, starting to kick her feet back and forth. Sometimes, she did this when she was happy, but right now, it felt like she was trying to emulate the joy she normally took from such simple gestures. Maybe that would be enough to cheer her up from the dismal subject they were discussing. “When you’re so busy trying to be what other people want, you can’t figure out who you are on your own. I never really thought about it as being a bad thing, but Mutsumi-chan worries about me because I don’t do enough to take care of myself sometimes. I worry about her for that too. We’re both trying to be better, but… It’s hard to find the motivation. If other people keep rewarding you for it, then why try to be any different?”

Uika nodded slowly, though Mortis couldn’t tell just how much her words were getting through. Uika had seemed like she would rather be just about anywhere else when the conversation started, but the tension behind her shoulders seemed to be loosening. Mortis hoped she wasn’t just seeing things by saying that, though the only person who would be able to tell her for certain was Uika herself. “Do you think that’s important?” Uika asked softly. “Figuring out who you are on your own… When no one else is forcing you to be someone you’re not?”

Mortis hummed, the sound drawing out for so long that she was forced to end it when she needed to breathe again ten seconds later. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m so used to acting like what other people want from me that I didn’t think so for a long time. Mutsumi-chan has been trying to get me to snap out of it though. She wants me to figure out who I am when I’m not just serving a purpose like taking care of her. I’m trying to get her to do the same.” Mortis laughed, pretending the sound was far more jovial than it was. “It’s hard for both of us though. We’re going to be learning how to do it for a long time. I don’t know how you can fully get yourself to stop trying to do what others want from you when you’ve been doing it for so long.”

Uika nodded once again, and for a moment, Mortis thought she was going to say something. Uika did not offer any words though, and her eyes were glazed over as she stared up at the ceiling. Mortis had to wonder if Uika was going to burst into tears if she was pressed too much more on this. She really couldn’t say for certain. Mortis had developed quite a few skills when it came to imitating others, but as far as Uika was concerned… Mortis wasn’t sure if she had ever really copied much from her. So much of what Uika showed to the rest of the world felt hollow and incomplete, and Mortis struggled to make sense of it the vast majority of the time. Mortis simply couldn’t get a read on Uika, and she could only hope that changed before the end of the conversation. 

“I don’t act the way Mortis does… At the very least, I don’t do it exactly the same way,” Mutsumi suddenly said, and Mortis realized she had grown so caught up in everything happening with Uika that she forgot Mutsumi was standing there beside her. “But I do want to do what I can to help other people. I want to make sure Saki is happy.” It was a natural extension of behaviors Mutsumi showed to other people even before they met Sakiko. The world had asked Mutsumi to be as subservient as possible, and so, she became a doll they could always idolize. She had been less of a person by the time she reached kindergarten and more of an idea others could project onto. Mutsumi wanted to help Sakiko because they were friends, but Mortis knew it ran deeper than that. Doing what others wanted of her was all Mutsumi had ever been taught to do. Who could say where her pleasure with taking care of those around her ended and her obligation to fulfill their needs began? Mortis didn’t know where the line was, and she was confident Mutsumi didn’t know either. 

“You want to help Saki-chan…” Uika whispered, each syllable painfully slow as if they were burning her alive to speak. “You care about her a lot, don’t you?”

“I do,” Mutsumi confirmed. In Mortis’ opinion, Mutsumi almost cared a little bit too much about Sakiko. Both of them loved Sakiko’s presence in their lives, and they were glad to have her as a friend. Still, Mortis wished Mutsumi would do a little more to take care of herself instead of sacrificing everything in the name of taking care of Sakiko. They were working on it though. Every single day, they were doing what they could to get better. Each step they took brought them closer to fully disentangling their identities from the people around them, and one day, they would make it to their destination of true understanding. Mortis was sure of it. 

“I see…” Uika murmured with another small nod. Once again, her eyes were filled with something indescribable, and Mortis wished more than anything that she could understand what Uika was trying to convey. That was the point of this conversation though, wasn’t it? They had to be getting closer to the heart of the matter now. They had to be getting closer to the truth of the secrets Uika had spent so much of her life fighting to bury. 

“People never wanted me to be myself,” Mutsumi continued to explain. Much like Uika, she had taken to staring up at the ceiling of the studio, a hazy layer of glass settling over her eyes as proof of her abandonment of reality. “They wanted me to perform for them. That was where Mortis came from. She couldn’t do everything though. If they wanted someone to be quiet, then I would be there instead. We just did what people wanted. That was all. We didn’t need anything else.”

“Does that make you happy?” Uika suddenly asked, and Mutsumi and Mortis looked over to find Uika had started to stare at them. Her purple eyes shone brightly even in the darkness of the studio, beacons toward a hope neither Mutsumi nor Mortis had ever expected to find in Uika of all people. “Just… Just doing what other people want from you.”

A desert of silence stretched between the two before Mutsumi hummed. “It never seemed like it mattered,” Mutsumi answered simply. “If other people were happy, then how we felt wasn’t relevant. Changing it felt impossible, so we didn’t ever bother.” Mutsumi watched Uika for a few seconds more, searching for the same things Mortis had been trying to find but once again failing to locate any information of value. “It wasn’t until Mortis and I met each other that we started to think something could change. She wants me to be myself, and I want her to be herself. Before that, we never thought there was a point in looking at it any other way than what other people wanted. We just needed an outside perspective… And we can be that for each other.”

Uika remained silent for a while longer, and Mutsumi and Mortis both looked at her as closely as they could without drawing too much attention to themselves. Uika barely seemed to be paying attention to them or their curiosity anymore though, her eyes entirely unfocused as she watched the ceiling like she feared it would crash down on her the instant she looked away. At long last, Mortis felt she understood. When she looked at Uika, she could see a deep, bottomless pit of sadness. Uika imitated others, but it was not because it was something she wanted to do. It was all Uika had ever been able to do, and at this point, she didn’t seem to be as aware of it as she would have been when the habit first set in. It was so natural to Uika now that she barely recognized it when it happened, but Mortis knew that it was far beyond anything Uika had ever desired. Now, it was far too late for Uika to fully stop it, and the situation had spiraled out of her reach in ways she could never fully mend. 

“I don’t know how you can speak so plainly about this,” Uika murmured. “I…” She wrapped her arms around the upper half of her torso, offering herself a hug it seemed like no one had bothered to give her for countless years. “I don’t understand it.”

“You have a lot to say about this, don’t you?” Mortis asked, moving a little bit closer to Uika. She originally thought Uika was going to pull away from her, refusing to let Mortis see anything more behind her mask than she already had. Uika remained still though, and Mortis wondered if perhaps she really was getting through the other girl’s outer shell. “After all, you act really differently when Sakiko-chan is around.”

Uika’s shoulders stiffened, and her breath hitched in a way that made it sound like she was being strangled. She forced herself through the tension though, releasing air again a few seconds later, albeit with far more force than she had been using previously. “I… I do,” she admitted. Uika wasn’t even trying to deny it anymore. She knew Mutsumi and Mortis could see the truth, and any attempts to push them away from it would only be delaying the inevitable. Mortis wasn’t confident if Uika was choosing to trust them or if she had simply been worn down to the point that she couldn’t muster the energy to fight anymore. Either way, Mortis hoped she would be able to do at least something to help. Leaving Uika this way didn’t feel right at all. 

“You seem a lot happier with Sakiko-chan than with anyone else,” Mortis went on, and Uika once again went tense. Recognizing Uika’s walls were slamming into place again, Mortis shook her head. “That doesn’t have to be a bad thing! Mutsumi-chan can be like that sometimes too. We’re trying to work through it though.” Mortis looked away when Uika seemed ready to squirm, wanting to give her at least a tiny bit of privacy in such an invasive moment. “You can’t just live for one person forever. Mutsumi-chan has been forcing me to see that, and I want her to see it too. You can’t live for the sake of a bunch of other people either. You have to find a way to live for yourself. Even when it’s hard, you have to try.”

“I… I don’t know how,” Uika confessed softly, and Mortis could have sworn she heard the warning trembles of coming tears in her voice. “I just…” Uika’s grip on her upper arms tightened, and she shook her head anxiously. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Why don't we talk about it then?” Mortis offered, reaching a hand out toward Uika. “Mutsumi-chan and I just told you everything that we struggle with because we’re used to copying people. We did that so you would feel comfortable talking to us about why you’re so used to it. So you can talk to us now.”

Even after all they had talked about, Mortis remained concerned that Uika was going to turn her down. If the discomfort on Uika’s end was truly as great as it seemed to be, then she had every right to back down and end it then and there. Uika didn’t stop it though, and after only a moment of hesitation, she reached out and took Mortis and Mutsumi’s hand. Mutsumi was confident she had never seen Uika looking this open with anyone other than Sakiko. Uika acted sweet and caring with most other people, but as Mortis had pointed out, something about it was superficial. Uika never let anyone see the emptiness that lurked just beneath the surface… 

Until now. Uika held firm in her refusal to let Mutsumi and Mortis look her in the eyes as she spoke, but her voice had renewed vigor behind it now. “All my life… No one has ever wanted me,” she began. “I was an inconvenience at best. They wanted nothing to do with me, and I… I thought that everyone would have been better off if I just never existed.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Mortis chimed in, unable to stay quiet even though she knew there had to be more coming. “I’m glad you’re here. We don’t know each other that well yet, but that’s why we’re talking, isn’t it? That’s how you get to know someone.” Mortis did not say aloud that she was glad Uika was there because she knew just how agonizing it could be to feel entirely unwanted. Back when she and Mutsumi were constantly fighting, Mortis had come to know the sensation very well, and she despised it deeply. All she had ever done was for the sake of helping Mutsumi, and if she couldn’t even find love in Mutsumi’s eyes, then what was the point of anything? 

Mortis knew it ran deeper than that though. She hadn’t been truly wanted when she was trying to keep Ave Mujica together either. The rest of the band had thought of her as unsettling and off-putting, and her failures were seen as enough of a reason to disband the group entirely. Even before that, Mortis knew the world had never wanted her specifically. Others thought of her as a burden to Mutsumi and an obstacle to getting to know the ‘real’ girl who hid behind her. It was yet another reason Mortis had gone so far to imitate others; she needed to prove she was as useful as possible, and sometimes, that meant pushing herself aside in the name of something greater. 

“I… I appreciate that,” Uika said slowly, unsure of how to respond to such an open show of kindness from Mortis. “I knew how others felt about me though, and they… They thought little of me from the start. I couldn’t get away from it no matter how hard I tried. They saw nothing positive in me, and I started to believe it too… No. I didn’t start to believe it. That was all I ever knew how to believe.”

“That’s why you started to imitate others then,” Mortis concluded. “You thought that was a way to get them to care about you. If you stopped being yourself, then…”

“Then maybe I could mean something,” Uika finished for her. She held up her free hand, blocking out the overhead light with it. Uika searched for something in the creases of her palms, but she failed to find it, and she let her hand fall back down to the cushions beside her. “It never helped though. I was nothing but a source of embarrassment for everyone. I couldn’t escape who I was… And at my core, I knew I was empty. There’s nothing inside of me to find. I’m just… Hollow. I only wish I wasn’t the last one who figured it out.”

“Uika-chan…” Mortis whispered, trying to find more words to convince Uika she was wrong. Mortis had not understood what she was seeing when she looked at Uika, but there was one thing she could say for certain: Uika was not empty the way she claimed. Even if Uika could not see it, Mortis knew she could. 

Uika, however, didn’t give Mortis the chance to explain her thoughts. Instead, she let out a small laugh overflowing with self-deprecation. “There’s nothing to me at all. I’m just a problem for other people to try and forget about,” Uika continued. “I can try all I want to fill myself up with what other people have shown me before, but it never goes anywhere. You were able to see right through it. You knew I was putting on a show even when I hadn’t said a word about it. I haven’t ever been a person on my own. That’s never going to change either.”

“That’s not true,” Mortis cut in with a firm shake of her head. Uika snapped out of her spiral instantly, staring at Mortis with wide eyes. She didn’t seem to have considered there could be perspectives outside of hers, but Mortis was going to make sure she heard her out. “I think you’re only making things worse by telling yourself that there’s nothing inside of you… You’re never going to find anything good about yourself if you’re not willing to look for it in the first place.”

“But I…” Uika tried to protest, and Mortis could imagine all of the words brewing in her mind before ever hearing them. Uika was going to tell her that she didn’t see the good in herself because no one else had ever shown her there was a reason to bother looking for it. Why try if there truly was nothing there? If the rest of the world believed there was nothing positive within her, then Mortis would have to dig on her own. She was willing to do it too. After all… 

“There are a lot of people out there who don’t think there’s anything positive about us,” Mutsumi chimed in. “They think we’re wasting the chance we’ve been given… Or they just hate us for the sake of it. But you wouldn’t agree with them in saying that we’re worth nothing, would you? If we started talking that way, you would say that it was all wrong. Even though we don’t know each other well, I know you would.”

“Of course I would,” Uika said immediately. “You mean a lot to a lot of people. I know they all care about you, and I…” Uika shook her head. “I’ve been horrible to you before now. I’m sorry for that.”

“You haven’t been horrible to us,” Mortis assured her. “If you had been, then we wouldn’t be here trying to help you, would we?” Uika remained still, refusing to confirm nor deny what Mortis was saying. Mortis didn’t wait for her approval and went on anyway. “Either way, I know how I feel about you… You’re a lot like me and Mutsumi-chan. There are a lot of people out there who don’t like you, and it’s not fair. You deserve better than that. If you can’t believe it, then I’ll believe it for you.”

“Mortis and I thought we were only worth as much as we could do for other people. Sometimes, we still do,” Mutsumi supplied. “We’re doing what we can to try and undo it. It’s not always easy, but we’re trying our best. It’s the least we can do for one another.”

“Exactly!” Mortis beamed, squeezing Uika’s hand tightly between her fingers. “We’re still working on it for ourselves, but we want you to give yourself a chance too. It’ll help you eventually even if it takes a while. We can figure it all out together. I think it’ll be easier if we rely on one another through this.”

“Are… Are you sure about that?” Uika asked, watching Mortis as if she feared the offer of kindness was a trap ready to spring shut around her at a moment’s notice. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you’re not ready for…”

“I’m offering it,” Mortis reminded her. “If I didn’t want to, then I just wouldn’t be saying it, but I am.” Mortis held Uika’s hand close to her chest and offered the other girl a smile. “We can try to be better together. How does that sound?”

Mortis could hardly say she was surprised when Uika took a long time to respond. Uika’s eyes had grown glassy once again, but this time, Mortis was almost certain it was because of tears instead of a familiar, safe detachment from the world around her. “I don’t know if I deserve this,” Uika murmured. “I just…”

“You don’t think there’s anything inside of you,” Mutsumi concluded, and Uika nodded, the motion so small and subtle that anyone farther away than Mutsumi and Mortis would have missed it entirely. “I don’t think that’s true at all.”

“Of course not!” Mortis cut in, not wanting to give Mutsumi the chance to voice her thoughts in her stead. “You’re willing to take a chance on us, and that means one thing about you… You’re a kind person, Uika-chan. You don’t need to be nice to us, but you’re doing it anyway, and I think that says a lot about you. So you can’t be completely empty. If nothing else, you’re nice.”

“I’m not as nice as you think I am,” Uika protested. “Back before Ave Mujica came back together, I… I thought horrible things about you. I can’t just… I can’t let you do something like this for me of all people.”

“We thought horrible things about other people too,” Mutsumi countered. At the time, a lot of her animosity had been directed at Mortis, and their back and forth had been a source of great strife for her. Since then, a lot had changed, and Mutsumi was glad it had. She didn’t know if she would have been able to go on forever hating Mortis the way she once had. “But things are better now. Life can change if you let it.”

“Besides, we’re not in that time anymore,” Mortis pointed out. “A lot has happened since then, and I think it’s all for the better. You should just let us help you through this. We’re offering, and we don’t want you to turn us down for some silly reason like that.” Mortis and Uika met eyes once again, and Mortis nearly found herself bowled over by the deep sadness that stared back at her. She fought to keep herself held together though, and she cast Uika the brightest smile she could muster. “You can do it. I promise you can.”

Uika sniffled softly, squeezing her fingers around Mutsumi and Mortis’ in return. She did not reach up to rub her tears away, fearing she did not deserve even a small act of dignity like that. Instead, Uika chose to look at the place where her hands locked with Mutsumi and Mortis’ in the space between them. When had the distance between them grown so small? “I don't know what you see in me,” she confessed. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand.”

“I think you can one day,” Mutsumi told her. “Mortis and I were able to understand each other eventually. It took a long time, and it’s still hard sometimes… But we’re trying. If you try, you can make it there eventually.”

“But you have to be willing to give yourself a chance,” Mortis interrupted. “If you never forgive yourself, then you’re never going to feel better about what you’ve done before. You can change the way you feel about yourself, and you can change the way you copy others too. It all comes down to you wanting to do it though. Do you think you can try? We want to try it with you if you do.”

Uika nodded, the gesture slow and uncertain at first but gaining speed and confidence as the seconds passed by. “Yes… I can try.” She drew in a careful breath and looked up at Mutsumi and Mortis with an oddly strong resolve in her eyes. Mortis didn’t know how Uika could ever find herself to be empty when she could put on a show like that… But it wasn’t a show at all, was it? This was the true Uika, the one Uika herself didn’t even seem to think existed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead,” Mutsumi replied. 

“When we’re alone… Can you call me Hatsune instead of Uika?” Uika asked. She shied her gaze away again a moment later, settling on looking at their joined hands instead. “Y-You can’t do that where anyone else can hear it, but I… I would appreciate it if you did it when we were by ourselves.”

In the blink of an eye, Mortis understood. Uika was a performance in herself, and the true self hid beneath the surface. It was similar to Mortis’ situation in a lot of ways; no one could understand her as long as they were operating under the false assumption that she was Mutsumi. Mortis could not be herself unless she was honest about who she was. In the time since she cast that incorrect name aside, Mortis had come to understand more about herself, and she knew the others around her had as well. Uika had not reached that point yet, continuing to hide behind a facade that she feared as much as she needed… 

But that did not need to be the case in the silence of the studio. Mortis nodded, and she held Uika–no, Hatsune’s–hands a little bit tighter. “I would be honored.”

Hatsune offered her a small nod, a dusting of pink spreading across her cheeks. She couldn’t seem to find the words to speak after such a personal moment. Mortis wasn’t sure if Hatsune had even thought through how she was going to ask to be called by her true name. At least she had gotten through it in the end. Mortis could tell it was taking a significant weight off her shoulders already. 

The tension was not fully gone though, and Hatsune still seemed a little bit nervous about the idea of charging into the unknown depths of her heart. Mortis studied Hatsune’s face, and she could think of only one way to alleviate the pressure. Perhaps it was a foolish decision, but Mortis knew Mutsumi agreed with her in the choice to come. Mortis pulled Uika’s hand in a little bit closer, and Uika was forced to lean in accordingly. Mortis pressed her lips to Uika’s cheek, feeling heat dance beneath her skin. Mortis had grown used to copying the words of others, and while she was doing her part to learn more about her true self, she was not there yet. She was not to the point of being able to talk freely with her own words yet. 

So instead, Mortis allowed her silence to say everything she needed to convey. She was certain it had done the job too based on the way Hatsune’s eyes widened to the point of threatening to pop out of her skull. Hatsune’s breathing had grown unsteady, hitching on itself as she attempted to make sense of what had just happened. Mortis almost worried she had gone too far and pushed Hatsune beyond the point of what she could understand in her current state… 

But Hatsune silenced all of those fears by leaning in as quickly as her body would allow. This time, she gave Mutsumi and Mortis a kiss on the lips, and they gasped into it before returning the gesture. To say Mortis was shocked would have been a grave understatement. She never would have thought Hatsune was capable of expressing herself this freely with anyone other than Sakiko. There was an obvious difference between how Hatsune presented herself with the rest of the world and how she shared her emotions when Sakiko was present, and Mutsumi and Mortis had grown used to it ages ago. 

And yet, in that room far from Sakiko, Hatsune was expressing something far more honest than she had ever shown around her idol. Sakiko was a source of light in Hatsune’s life, the purpose Hatsune had attached herself to, but she was not all there was to find. Hatsune may have found herself to be empty, a well to be filled with the desires of those around her, but Mortis could see differently now. There was far more to Hatsune than she was willing to let even herself see, and Mortis felt like she was seeing Hatsune in color for the first time now that they were there together. Mortis had always struggled to understand Hatsune, but that did not need to be the case anymore. From that day forward, they were going to know one another far better than they had thought possible previously. 

“I want to try and change for the better,” Hatsune whispered, desperation clinging to every word like a prayer she had been rehearsing in her mind for years. There was a heaviness behind it that Mortis had not expected, and yet, she was glad to see it. After all, that meant Hatsune was not carrying the weight by herself anymore. “I don’t know how well I’ll do, but I… I want to try.”

“Then we’ll try with you,” Mortis assured her with a grin. How could she ever refuse Hatsune’s offer to get closer after they had just shared a kiss? Mortis wanted to feel Hatsune’s lips against hers again in the future. She wanted to have the chance to kiss Hatsune again and again as the other girl found herself in a world that denied her personhood so completely. There was something inside of Hatsune, and it went far beyond the performances of imitation she put on when she had an audience. 

“Thank you,” Hatsune murmured. She set their joined hands onto the couch in between them, staring at the spot with an indescribable yet certainly positive emotion in her eyes. “I don’t mean to impose, but do… Do you think we can stay here for a little bit longer? If not, then I can go, but–”

Mutsumi moved closer to Hatsune, destroying the space between them until their thighs were side by side. Now, their hands were forced to rest on Mutsumi’s lap, and she shook her head. “Stay for as long as you would like,” Mutsumi told her. “We’d like it if you did too.”

~~~~~

Hatsune wished she knew how to respond to everything that had happened that afternoon. 

Multiple hours had come and gone by the time she stumbled out of the Wakaba mansion, waving over her shoulder to Mutsumi and Mortis. The girls were positioned right by the door, watching Hatsune walk down the street so she could begin her journey home. Hatsune found herself watching as subtly as she could to see how long Mutsumi and Mortis would be looking after her. When they retreated inside, disappointment rushed to fill Hatsune’s heart for a reason she couldn’t quite describe. 

She hadn’t known what to expect when Mutsumi and Mortis first told her to stay behind so they could talk after rehearsal. Hatsune doubly hadn’t known how to respond when they talked to her about why she imitated others all the time. Hatsune knew it was something she did, but she hadn’t ever imagined others would call her out on it. Mutsumi and Mortis had been so firm in pressing her about the reasoning behind it too. They refused to give up even when Hatsune wanted to run and hide in whatever dark corner she could find. She felt she was at her safest when no one was watching her, and that remained true throughout that conversation. 

Now though, Hatsune had to wonder if perhaps there was more to life than always drowning in the shadows. She had been told from a young age that she was an issue to be taken care of, a burden that no one could ever alleviate as long as she was there. Hatsune was an inconvenience to a powerful man, and as a result, she was worse than a corpse. She had done her best to make peace with her lot in life, deciding there was nothing she could do to change her position and wanting to find a way to live with it. 

But did she really need to let Sadaharu have such a strong grip over her life forever? Or was there an option for her to pursue a life on her own? Hatsune knew she would always be hated as long as she had his blood in her veins, but the rest of the world did not need to know of the sin that lurked beneath the surface. It had been an open secret on the island she called home, but beyond the seas, no one knew who she was. Mutsumi and Mortis did not know she was sinful just for existing. Even when she tried to assert it, they had not believed her. They wanted to think there was life inside of her, and… And Hatsune found herself desperate to think so too. 

In the past, Hatsune would have cursed herself for daring to think there was more to her life than what she had been taught since birth. She could never be worth anything other than the problems she had caused the instant she took her first breath. The world hated her, and she would never be able to gain its love. Any awful thing that happened to her was a natural matter of circumstance. She deserved it because this was the life she had been forced to live. There could be no life for her outside of hurting others, and the sooner she could accept it, the better she would feel. 

After her conversation that day though, Hatsune wanted the same things both Mutsumi and Mortis did. They had spent years copying others in an effort to feel like they were worth more than the blood in their veins claimed, and now, they were trying to break free of that. They wanted to show they could be people worthy of love rather than just vessels for the desires of others. If Mutsumi and Mortis could escape the chains of dolls, then perhaps Hatsune could too. Maybe there was a way for her to tear herself free and then make a life all her own. She did not need to confine herself to what she had been told was possible if there were other girls daring to shatter reality right along with her. 

When Hatsune looked in her reflection’s eyes, she saw nothing but a mistake. She saw a girl who never should have been given life. It would have made everything easier for all of the people she cared about if she had never been born. Despite that, Hatsune wanted to live. Some selfish, miserable part of herself wanted to have to love she had witnessed but had never been able to experience. She wanted what was out of her reach, and she ached with yearning to get back the years that had been stolen from her. She did not deserve any of the dreams her imagination supplied to her, but that was never enough to stop her from looking to the stars and hoping anyway. 

That was why Sakiko had become such an enticing figure to Hatsune. For just one night, she did not need to think of all of the weight her actions held. She could be nothing but a girl. Sakiko did not look at Hatsune and see her true self, and in a way, that was what Hatsune had wanted. If the name Hatsune was attached to all of the burdensome agony of her past, then she aimed to cast it aside instead. Sakiko knew nothing of who Hatsune truly was, and Hatsune needed that security more than she could ever put to words. 

But after talking to Mutsumi and Mortis, Hatsune had to wonder if Sakiko was really the perfect idol of salvation she had always craved. Sakiko had given Hatsune light in the darkness, but she did not understand the true face of the girl she was looking at. Even now, Hatsune was not certain she and Sakiko saw one another eye-to-eye. In her dreams, they absolutely did, but smaller moments of misalignment began to stack up, and Hatsune wasn’t quite so sure anymore. If not even Sakiko, the figure of her dreams, could see her and understand, then what chance did she stand of others caring? 

Hatsune could never decide fully if she wanted to be witnessed or not. On the island, the eyes of others had felt like a burden. And yet, she wanted more than that. She wanted people to look at her and simply care because she was herself. Being seen had always been a curse for Hatsune, but did that need to be the case forever? Or was there a way for her to express herself without it feeling like a rope around her neck? Was Hatsune settling for something false and superficial when she could have found someone who loved her truly and deeply for who she was? 

Hatsune had never thought it possible for her to be loved for who she really was. She had been called an unappealing inconvenience for years, and she had no choice but to believe it. No one ever bothered to counter it, so it simply had to be the truth… Right? And yet, Mutsumi and Mortis looked at Hatsune and saw not emptiness but potential. They saw a girl who had erased her true nature in the name of satisfying others. They saw a girl who was just like them and needed to be set free. They saw a girl who they wanted to ally with in their conquests against a controlling, horrible world. They could have glossed over Hatsune entirely, but they had not. For the first time ever, they wanted… Her. 

Sharing her true name with them had been a spur of the moment choice, and Hatsune was not entirely sure she would believe it was the right decision when the next morning arrived. Even so, she knew she would not be able to go on knowing she was hiding so much from people who were making an active effort to get to know her. If Mutsumi and Mortis wanted to become real girls with her, then Hatsune needed to tell the truth. She needed them to know that her true self had been buried far deeper than she ever confessed previously. If Hatsune was going to become real, then she needed to stop using the name of the doll she had written across her heart with ink of melted steel. 

No. Hatsune needed to make something beautiful out of the girl who had been told she was less than dirt. She needed to do the impossible, and if that meant she enraged everyone from her old life, then… Then so be it. Hatsune wasn’t sure of what that was going to lead to in her professional life where she had built an entire career out of pretending to be someone other than herself, but Hatsune wanted to try. She couldn’t let this be her life forever. There had to be something beneath the surface, and she wanted to find it. 

How ironic it was. Just the day before, Hatsune would have found herself to be ridiculous for thinking there was potential like this inside of her at all. She couldn’t assume there was any power for good within her soul when she had been told otherwise for a decade and a half. Now though, Hatsune wanted it to be true. Mutsumi and Mortis had given her a reason to believe even if they hadn’t realized the weight of their words when they first invited her to stay and talk to them. Hatsune knew what she had to do now, and she could only hope she was able to push through the barriers before her one day. 

Mutsumi and Mortis had both faced unique hardships because of their families too. They had been born to a couple that didn’t care much for them, and they had to make a place in the world based on the blood that flowed through them. They had never been given the chance to be themselves just as Hatsune had never been allowed to exist without it being a blight upon others. Even if the situations were slightly different, Hatsune could see how it had led to both of them imitating others. It was all they had been able to do for the sake of survival. 

That wasn’t going to be the case forever though. Hatsune didn’t know where the change was going to come from or how she was going to follow the path leading to her future, but she knew she had to try. One day, she was going to prove she was worth much more than she had ever been taught before. She didn’t know if it was possible to fully escape Sadaharu’s shadow, but that wasn’t going to stop her from trying. If Mutsumi and Mortis wanted to be their own girls without Minami and Takafumi watching over their shoulders, then Hatsune owed it to them to try to escape Sadaharu too. 

Hatsune had resonated deeply with the concept of Ave Mujica when she first heard about it. She really did feel like a doll: an empty item that was only ever filled with life or purpose when someone else entered the stage to play with her. She wanted to be wanted more than anything, and she would have done anything to feel like she mattered to the people she cared about. How could she not easily fall into the identity of Doloris? How could she resist something so obviously reflecting the darkness within her soul? 

Hatsune hadn’t been the only one to relate to it though, and she saw that now. If Mutsumi and Mortis could try to become real girls rather than dolls, then so could she. The future was uncertain, and Hatsune had no dedicated path to follow, but she hadn’t had a path in mind when she left the island to travel to Tokyo either, had she? Back then, Hatsune had thought her only choice was to become Uika, a girl who everyone would want. No one needed to even know Hatsune existed as long as they yearned for Uika… But what happiness was there to be found in becoming Uika? When Hatsune stripped all of her fears of rejection away, what was there left for her? Replacing her sister would never be enough for her. It would never help her to be loved the way she needed most. The only option was to find a way to love herself as Hatsune, and no matter how impossible it felt, she knew she would make it there eventually. 

Hatsune pressed two fingers to her lips where she had kissed Mutsumi and Mortis. She never would have imagined her first kiss would be with the two of them of all people. Hatsune hoped she would be able to kiss them again one day, but it wasn’t right to request that of them yet. When they had escaped their shells as dolls and become real girls, Hatsune could embrace them once again. When they had dug for their true selves rather than filling their souls with what others wanted, they could reach for one another. When they had found honesty and human connection, they would be at peace, and Hatsune could hardly wait. 

Hatsune tilted her face up toward the sky. The sun had started to set, and she could see a few stars twinkling in the heavens overhead. It was so much harder to see the stars in Tokyo than back on the island, but Hatsune still knew exactly where to search for them after all this time. She knew they would guide her true even after all that time though. The stars had granted her light before, and she hoped their radiance would one day fill her soul too. 

No… Hatsune would fill her own soul, and she would dance with Mutsumi and Mortis beneath the stars once the dolls had reclaimed their bodies from the foul puppeteers of blood.