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A "Hey, heads up!" was all the warning Toya got before his vision went dark with a fwump! He yelped, hands flying up to claw at whatever landed on his head.
He came away with a familiar blue-and-black denim jacket, and turned to face the culprit.
"Kaito-san, what…?"
"Wah! Toya-kun, I was expecting you to catch that!"
At the entrance to Crase Cafe stood a bewildered Kaito, hands half-held up in defense.
Before Toya could say anything else, Luka swished around the blue haired virtual singer, waltzing into the cafe like she owned it. "Couldn't you see Toya-kun was distracted?" she snickered while taking a seat. "Anyway, Meiko, can I get some juice~? It's so hot outside."
"Coming right up!" a voice drifted from below the counter. "Just give me a minute!"
It was a slow day for the quaint cafe in Street Sekai. Toya had been lost in thought, gaze distant as he ruminated over the previous day's events. Namely, watching RaveN - amongst the several other highly skilled music groups - perform at Sonic Beats. The excitement kept thrumming through his bloodstream - he wanted to sing. He wanted to practice, to prepare for their participation in Rush Beats. But for now, he sat idly at the cafe bar, half watching Meiko as she tended to her cafe.
That was, until Kaito strolled in. The blue-haired virtual singer waved a hand apologetically as he took his jacket back from Toya, taking a seat next to the dual-haired boy. "Can I get some ice cream too, Mei-"
"No."
"What?" Kaito visibly wilted. "I'm melting over here though…"
"And what about poor Toya-kun?" the cafe owner finally popped out from beneath the counter, dusting her hands on her apron.
"I already apologized! Wait, you didn't even see-"
"I didn't hear a 'sorry,'" she cut in. "Do it properly."
Luka poorly hid another snicker. Kaito sighed. "Toya-kun, I'm sorry…"
The vocalist finally cracked a smile at their antics. "It's no problem, Kaito-san. Though I'd like to ask… is it really that hot outside?"
"We were trying to sing in the plaza, but the sun is relentless!" he exclaimed.
"That's odd," Toya frowned. "Isn't Sekai usually stable in terms of temperature? I've noticed it doesn't change with the seasons."
"Well, watching Sonic Beats has all of you fired up, no?" Meiko said, sliding a class of ice-cold apple cider to Luka, who took a sip and hummed appreciatively. "I assume the strength of your passion is affecting the environment like this."
"It's not the first time its happened either!" Luka chimed in. "We had a lot of hotter days as you guys prepared for Rad Blast, and the day of the event had all of us cooped in the cafe, hehe."
Kaito looked like he was sweating by just remembering. "But it's nice seeing your passion like this! It gets me all fired up too… I know! Luka, let's go back to the plaza and keep singing!" He didn't wait for an answer as he grabbed her and dragged her out of the cafe.
"We just got here! Weren't you the one complaining about the heat?" Luka grumbled, shooting an apologetic glance at Meiko as she took the glass of cider with her. The door shut behind them with a little jingle.
"I hope they don't break the glass…" Meiko muttered, grabbing a rag and starting to wipe down the counters.
"I think they'll be fine," Toya replied.
"I guess… Anyway, what has you in a mood?"
"…Pardon me?"
"You've been sitting in here for the past twenty minutes with a pensive look on your face. You've clearly got something on your mind." Meiko glanced at him, extending an invitation to explain.
"I was thinking about Rad Blast again," he admitted after a moment. "Sonic Notes showed us how far we still have to go before we can stand on top of the world, but…"
"You're reflecting on your achievements, I assume?"
Toya tilted his head. "Something like that."
"That's a good thing to do, to see how far you've come. But that doesn't seem to be everything on your mind right now."
"Well…" Toya looked outside, watching the hazy waves of heat ripple beyond the windows. Tangible proof, yet… "I was wondering how exactly I would go about chasing our new dream. I don't doubt our ability, but I am having trouble visualizing the right path."
"Well, you started from scratch for street music and singing, yet step by step managed to climb your way to the top already, right?"
Toya nodded.
"To reach the peak of the world, you'll have to similarly trust yourselves, as well as the process. Though I'd like to say - there will be no 'right' path."
"How so?"
"Take this coffee bean for example," she presented a singular brown bean with a flourish. It was blackened somewhat; it had clearly been roasted already. "This will represent your team as you are right now, in comparison to the world. It's been prepared - roasted, in this case - by chasing after one dream. But it can still be shaped into something more." She tossed the little thing back into the box it came from, and moved over to where she had freshly roasted and ground up a mixture of beans. She took about half the stock with a scoop, presenting it to Toya. "What's this?"
"Ground coffee beans," he answers.
"Yes, but…"
"They've been 'shaped,' as you put it - transformed into something new?"
Meiko snapped her fingers with a grin. "Correct! Each stash of beans here is unique, prepared in a variety of different ways before this. From different roasting techniques, to different beans, to even different styles of growth and nourishment. It's all a part of the process, and each process - even if it's shaped by the same idea, or in your case, the same goal - is unique to the individual."
"I see," Toya nodded. Meiko let the coffee begin brewing as she continued talking. "All of this to say that there is no defined path. Keep training and practicing as you have, push yourself to the limits in new environments, and you'll surely make progress towards reaching the top of the world."
Once the brew was done, Meiko poured a mug. "And finally, the polishing." She carefully added milk and some light sugar, mixing the contents of the mug until it sat at a perfect brown hue. She decorated the top with some foam and coffee powder.
"And by the end of it, you'll have a delicious cup of coffee!" She presented it to Toya. "For you."
"Thank you, Meiko-san," Toya smiled, taking a moment to savor the aroma. "I think I understand it a little better now."
"Drink up, then! I'm sure you have a busy day tomorrow, and it's starting to get late. Akito-kun and the others stopped by earlier, they said they had exciting plans for dinner."
"Actually, tomorrow is a rest day for us. I wonder if that's where the dinner plans came from… I certainly wasn't aware until now."
"Whoops… hopefully I didn't spoil any surprises there!" she chuckled, making herself a cup of coffee as well. Toya continued sipping at his brew as she sat next to him.
They drank in a comfortable silence, allowing the vocalist to mull over the cafe owner's advice. So if more practice is the key…
"Thank you very much for the coffee, Meiko-san, it was delicious," Toya said again as he finished. "Your advice has motivated me to continue practicing as well. I think I'll join Kaito-san and Luka-san in their session."
"That's the spirit, Toya-kun. I'm always glad to help," she smiled. "But remember - don't overdo it. You'll only ruin the batch of coffee if you keep straining the brew."
"Of course. Thank you once more."
"Really, don't mention it! Have fun out there. And please keep an eye on my glass…"
Toya chuckled as he left the cafe. The heat bore down on him, sweltering hot, yet it felt oddly refreshing. A contradiction; one he quite enjoyed.
Since the dual haired boy was in no hurry, he decided to take the longer path to the plaza. Not only would it provide welcome shade, as it was mostly a series of interconnected alleyways, it would also provide more inspiration. There were always new posters taped to the walls, and the walls too were painted with sprawling murals and graffiti that changed as the weeks passed. Both were reflections of whatever thoughts happened to be prominent in the Sekai creator's minds, even if those thoughts lingered in the back of one's head.
The dual-haired boy breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped into the shade, already spotting an advertisement for a new pair of headphones. He remembered An complementing the sleek design after seeing them in an airport display - maybe she hadn't quite gotten over them yet. Sprawling sunflower illustrations littered the corner as he turned into another alley, this time spotting a major sale for a tech store. Hadn't he gone with Kohane to the same location the other day? She had mentioned a new camera model she had been interested in. Another turn; further in was a flyer for the new sweets shop that was opening soon. Toya hovered for a moment by that flyer, typing the grand opening date into his notes app for later. He was sure Akito would love to go there, once they returned to Japan.
He was close to the plaza now. Toya continued to admire the life the very walls seemed to breathe with, until a sharp glint of light caught his attention.
What was that? It seemed to be nestled right after the next turn. He quickened his pace, scanning the alleyway for anything that looked out of place. He took a sharp right, and came face to face with a teal blue flyer.
His breath caught in his throat.
Accented only with white and black, the flyer featured elegant script that circled around a simple drawing of… a piano.
This was a flyer he recognized. It detailed a competition and party styled into one event, inviting top musicians and composers to enjoy the festivities and play for prizes or fame. A classical music appreciation event that occurred annually, the Aoyagis had always been invited to attend and compete. However, Toya had only attended one year of the party. Even though he had been below the age limit to compete, the son of Aoyagi Harumichi wasn't to be denied, and so he had been given a pass to enter.
That day, the youngest ever competitor walked away with first place.
He stepped closed to the flyer, tracing over the slightly battered paper. Why would this be here? Toya was past his doubts - he wouldn't back down now, not for anything. But… perhaps other hesitations had led to this particular memory resurfacing, even if it was a part of his unconscious mind. He took another step closer, intending to take the poster down, but his foot bumped against something instead.
Faint clinking noises filled the air as a small, barely glowing glass ball rolled away and hit the wall.
A ball…? Like that glowing fragment… ah. Was this a piece of another Sekai? He remembered the ruins of the place he visited with Miku, contained within a triangular shard. She had called that a fragment of Sekai. This one seemed much more complete, but also much duller. Perhaps the feelings that created it were weakening?
I suppose I'll enter it, then. But before he could grab it, the orb pulsed, becoming blindingly bright in an instant.
And Toya was falling.
A scream tore from his throat as he tumbled through a white void, fear coursing through his veins. Did I accidentally trigger the fragment by bumping it with my foot!? he thought (a tad hysterically) as he fell.
He had no choice but to see what this new Sekai held in store for him.
-~-
It was probably only a few seconds, but the fall felt like an eternity to Toya.
He came to a slow stop a few inches off the white tiled floor, before being dumped unceremoniously with an oof! onto the cool surface. He took a moment to gather himself, forcing a few deep breaths to cycle through his lungs until his heart rate returned to something closer to normal.
(Toya briefly contemplated leaving the Sekai altogether, but he quickly shot that train of thought down. He was here now - he wouldn't give in so easily.)
The sound of the piano broke the dual-haired boy from his thoughts, and he looked up.
Surrounding him on all sides was the familiar atmosphere from that day. Wisps of mist flickered around him, weaving themselves into people that began to walk towards the center of the room. Beyond the steadily forming wall of people, the A minor scale echoed gingerly across four octaves, complete with chords.
Toya quickly rose to his feet, muttering "excuse me, apologies" as he tried to push through the crowd - only to find out their forms dissipated like smoke when he passed too close to them.
He stared, unnerved, as the faceless man he had accidentally elbowed continued walking even as his side crumbled into fine particles. It reformed, until it was like nothing happened. At least the strange phenomenon made reaching the front of the crowd much easier.
Everyone had maintained a respectful distance from the center of the room, which held a large podium. Atop it sat a shining white grand piano.
And on the bench was himself, just… younger.
Roughly nine years old, his dull gray suit contrasted the sharp whiteness of his surroundings. He gracefully finished his warm-up, and a small pause ensued as his steel-gray eyes struggled to focus on the piano.
But with a preparatory breath, he launched into Mozart's Rondo Alla Turca.
The murmuring of the partygoers was instantly silenced as the first few notes rang out into the air. They were soft, yet intense, the grace notes perfectly accenting the staccato chords. Suspense slowly began building up throughout the hall, and the crowd began blurring together as the mist forming them darkened and rippled ominously. As the playful tune of the song crested, the mist exploded outward - and the ballroom was plunged into darkness.
The music continued to echo around Toya as the mist condensed into scenes from his past. They came alive with a faint glow, showing child Toya in his daily semi-casual wear, seated on the worn piano bench in his home.
"Do it again," Harumichi intoned from behind the little boy, voice like steel. "Do it again, do it over and over again, until it is perfect."
And his younger self would restart upon every command, small hands faintly trembling as they struggled and stretched and reached the chords the music required.
"Again," and he played from the top.
"Once more, restart," and he went back to the beginning.
"Try it again-"
The song mellowed out, though the tempo remained frantic in its intensity. The scene faded, instead swirling around the present Toya, prompting him to turn and watch his younger self's performance. Skilled fingers danced across the keys, but a closer look at his younger self's face revealed the slightly pinched eyebrows, the rapidly moving eyes. Obviously the child pianist wasn't nearly as experienced as Toya was now, comprehension of music colored by new experiences and genres of music, so Toya was able to notice how each note was tight as too-stiff fingers slicked with sweat threatened to slip from the keys.
Yet the tune remained upbeat - jaunty, even, as the pianist suffered. The little hitches of breath were telling as subtle mistakes piled onto each other - an accent missed, a measure played in legato instead of holding out a singular note.
Even then, the performance was endlessly beautiful; a beauty borne from the pain.
The section turned curious, and the performer disappeared from sight again. In its place rose Toya as a toddler, barely able to walk on his own two feet. He was scooped up by his mother, settled into her lap as his father began to play his newest composition for them both. The noise must have attracted Shuji and Natsuomi, for much younger versions of them both ran into frame. This delighted the toddler, who started giggling soundlessly, looking on with stars in his eyes.
Notes began spilling from the piano with a renewed intensity, and the family of five was replaced by shelves upon shelves of books. Now in elementary school, the dual-haired boy poured through thick texts and smaller pamphlets - from the correct position to hold a violin, to warm-ups for the fingers before playing piano. There were music books full of scales and octaves and techniques for practice, to even textbooks on music theory and composition - it didn't matter what the subject was, for the wispy form of his younger self devoured them all.
An intense look in his eyes spoke volumes about his unwillingness to back down, to prove to his father that he too could become a professional in this field. After all, the boy didn't want to disappoint the man who had introduced him to the beauty of music in the first place.
(But isn't that what happened in the end? a part of him whispered. You ran.
No. Not at all. I came back, stronger than before.)
The mist parted like a curtain to reveal the performer again, now working through a quieter part of the song. The section was a repetition of the very first one, but the young pianist now bore a grimace on his face. It was hardly noticeable, as Toya had long learned to hide the agony while playing for an audience - but the vocalist knew. And as the audience reformed, whispers began to fill the hall:
"Listen to that precise control."
"Can you believe it?"
"He's only been playing for a little more than six years."
"To be a prodigy at such a young age…"
"And that delicate finger placement!"
"I wish my daughter would practice like him…"
The ballroom was still shrouded in black, yet dozens of pairs of eyes from the faceless audience bore into his younger self's back. Everyone was enraptured by the technical skill he displayed, and the judges were no exception. Stunned by the display, they were taking note of each use of expression, observing how every note was placed with perfect intent. Try as they might, they were unable to find a single noticeable mistake.
But it wasn't enough.
Next to the judges sat Harumichi, who watched the performance with a careful, keen eye. He tracked every minuscule mistake, every iota of hesitation, and would be sure to scold his youngest once the family was someplace more private. Picking apart his performance to the bone was a part of the structure his father had built for him.
That structure was erased as a powerful gust of wind blurred Toya's surroundings. The poor boy on the bench lurched with the force of the gale, yet he kept playing, entering the finale of the piece.
In its wake, another vision formed, this time featuring a junior high Toya. He took form behind the pianist, posture slumped and defensive, his back turned to the cursed instrument. His appearance was messy: the collar was crumpled, and his shirt was left untucked and partially unbuttoned. He appeared to be in the middle of a fervent argument with Harumichi, the latter whom stood passively. Deep lines in his forehead and furrowed brows made the extent of his rage known, however. The anger of watching his youngest son willingly ruin his life right before his eyes. With immense restraint, he said a few words, disputing everything Toya had thrown in his face that day. Livid, the pianist finally pushed past his father and ran out, running and running until he stumbled to a stop in a random alleyway. He crumbled into a ball against the wall, unmoving except for trembling shoulders.
Mist dissipated slowly and for the last time, allowing the blinding white of the ballroom to leak back back into view. And with a final flourish, the performance concluded. The young Toya's head was solemnly bowed, and the vocalist couldn't see the expression the child was making.
The audience, deeply awed, let the ending drag on for a beat too long before cheering erupted in the hall.
The noise was enthusiastic, yet the dual-haired boy refused to rise from the bench to acknowledge the praise. In any other instance, this would have disqualified a competitor immediately - a refusal to rise and bow was seen as ungracious - but between one blink and the next, the ballroom had emptied itself.
This… isn't the place I remember from that day, Toya realized. With the crowds from before, it had been nearly impossible to tell, but Toya was in a room much, much larger than the hall from that day. Where the walls had been accented in warm gold lights and paint, these walls were a blank, empty white. Tall floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the walls, and the room itself was circular in shape. Massive translucent curtains billowed outward in a nonexistent wind, and the piano seemed to tremble faintly.
Next to the piano sat a detailed looking trophy - the one he had won for placing first that day - as well as… a violin? The bow was nowhere to be seen, and the violin itself seemed to be lacking its strings.
It felt forgotten. Ignored, cast aside in the shadow of the piano.
He walked up to the podium slowly, climbing onto it and gently lifting the violin from where it sat.
"'You're reflecting on your achievements?'" Meiko's voice echoed inside his head. "'That's a good thing to do, to see how far you've come.'"
It's a good thing to reflect on one's feelings and progress, huh? Toya thought, tracing the body of the instrument. I believe I fully understand the reason behind my lack of faith earlier.
Perhaps this Sekai was borne from the regret he once held.
He had doubted himself for running once in the past, but that was something he'd come to accept and move on from.
And though he had come to accept his past, he continued to ignore the fruits of his labor during the twelve years he studied classical. He had still participated in competitions, placing first in many - such as this one. They were a part of his achievements as well, were they not?
The realization made his heart feel lighter. He set the violin back down-
"Who are you?"
The question, lacking in inflection yet sharp nonetheless, startled Toya out of his musings. The vocalist turned around, only to see his younger self staring directly at him.
"You can see me?" Toya blurted out.
"Yes. How… are you here? You're me, aren't you?"
Toya nodded, walking around the piano. His younger self scrambled back to the bench, moving over a bit to allow the older boy space to sit.
"I don't think the how matters right now," Toya said at length. "Your performance, however… it was beautiful."
His younger self frowned, a slight quirk down of the lips. "No it wasn't. I was all over the place. This… weird nervousness makes my hands tremble all the time, and I messed up the timings of several notes. I have a lot of room to get better…"
"It's quite unfortunate this performance wasn't recorded," Toya said instead, letting his fingers brush against the keys. "I remember playing it just as badly as you feel right now… but hearing it again made me realize the beauty I missed that day. I wish you too could reflect on it one day, to see how far you've come."
"It's not enough to reach our father's level. I don't think reflecting will change anything. Practice will. But…" the boy winced slightly, hands shaking a little harder. He gripped his wrists, forcing them to still. "Just the thought of it makes me shake. I hate trading my life for practice. It's… unbearable. I hate it. I hate this."
"I hated it too, once." Toya played a C major arpeggio, and the pianist whirled to look at him.
"You… you're still playing?"
"I'm still playing," Toya echoed.
"How?"
"'How?' You continue to play as well. You say you hate this," Toya said, gesturing at the piano, "yet you still play. Why is that?"
"Because… it's music. It's supposed to be our life…" the younger boy frowned. "But if you hated it, why didn't you quit?" He cast a furtive glance at Toya's outfit. To the vocalist, it was a part of his everyday wardrobe - just simple street clothing. But to his younger self, it defied everything he had been taught until then.
"I did quit."
A small gasp. "But you said you were still playing."
"Sort of… I found a different style of music to pursue. It led me to a dream I truly care about, something that holds significance to me as much as it does to others."
"Huh…?"
"Classical music was our father's dream. It was something we loved too, but… we were never meant to devote our life to it. Not like father did, not like our brothers are, and most certainly not like you're being forced to now. But…" Toya's fingers drifted further down the piano, until it hovered over a single note - C4, the middle C. The same, pure tone that had sparked his initial desire to play in the first place. The same note his father had played on that fateful day.
Toya pressed down gently, eliciting a delicate, pure noise. It was beautiful.
It was nothing like the magic he remembered from that day.
"I still love music," Toya murmured, addressing himself as much as the child next to him. "And classical is just another genre of music, no?"
The young pianist stared in shock. "That note… it's the same as that day… how?" he asked reverently.
Toya shook his head. "It's not the same note. In fact, it'll never be the same. But to you, it seems that way because of one singular reason."
The boy's eyebrows pinched together slightly.
"It holds the hopes and dreams I've come to find and realize, and that's what you hear now. It's the same way I could hear the love for music in the piece you just finished performing, even if it sounds riddled with mistakes to you now. I can still tell you love music.
"Right now," with trembling hands, Toya struck a random few notes. They screeched, uncoordinated, and his younger self winced. "Your music sounds muddied to your ears. This is because you've lost sight of what you were trying to reach for. You've lost sight of why, of what you hoped to find."
That familiar anxiety welled inside of him as he rested his hands on the keys, properly this time. He remembered times with the Tenmas, when Tsukasa would shout "we're having a recital!" and drag Toya into playing whatever new song was on his mind that day. Of how Toya forgot the growing pain when he played with his whole heart, when it was for fun. Saki would clap the beat and hum along, providing an imperfect metronome for their song. And though that anxiety shook in his lungs and ran through his blood, he fought through it.
For his younger self to understand the importance of his words, he would have to convey his feelings through music.
"I've come to realize and accept this." Toya started softly playing out the introduction to Heart and Soul, a duet Tsukasa had taught him long ago. "That classical music still means a lot to me. I hated how it was forced on me, on us. but I still admire its beauty and use what I learned in those years of playing even today. Even now, with my teammates."
"Your teammates?"
Toya smiled slightly, opting to ignore his younger self's confusion for now. Instead, he let his hand linger on F5, and asked:
"Will you join me for this one performance?"
The young Toya stared at his older self, unsure. But then he turned resolutely towards the piano, letting his smaller hands stretch across the keys, reaching almost a full octave. Toya kicked off the performance again, and this time when he played the starting note, his younger self joined in.
What followed was a simple dance. As the vocalist kept up the melody, the pianist provided the rhythm and harmony, letting both halves weave into an upbeat, promising tune. Toya allowed himself to explore beyond the confines of the sheet music, adding a few grace notes and turns before re-entering the main piece. The clear notes bobbed in the air, a sense of freedom lifting them higher and higher.
His younger self took the changes in stride, but not without glancing over in confusion first. The bass clef was stuck in one style, unwilling to deviate from what he had been taught. Changing the script midway was the exact opposite of what he had learned from his father, so altering the song mid-performance felt strange to him. His playing was much more rigid, unwilling to break free from the box just yet.
But he adapted to the changes quickly, letting muscle memory carry him through the song.
As he listened to the deep sound strengthen, the older Toya felt a warmth in his heart. Together, they continued into the second half of the piece, growing steadily louder and more complex as the song became a vessel for the emotions of both boys. The music seemed to swirl around them, lighting up the place with its grace.
The piece came to an end, and the final chord tapered out into the silence of the ballroom. It echoed softly against the walls, and the air sparkled around them.
No, really. Golden shimmers of light fell from the ceiling, softly embracing the boys on the bench.
Young Toya's eyes were sparkling just as much as the air, and he held out a hand to catch the particles. "Pretty…" he sighed, a bit of happiness finally reflecting in his demeanor.
The vocalist smiled again, proudly this time. "Now wasn't that a beautiful performance?"
"Mhm!" the boy nodded happily.
"The years ahead will not be as beautiful as these small moments, young me. It will feel like it only gets worse, more painful, but those years shaped me into who I am today, and will shape you into someone who is never willing to back down. Someday, you'll stand shoulder to shoulder with the people who believed in you even when you doubted yourself, and you'll realize just how much music has shaped us - both past and present."
His younger self finally turned away from the glitter, which now hung suspended in time. "People… are they the teammates you mentioned before?"
Toya's smile turned fond. "Indeed."
"Who are they?"
"Well… one is a shy girl who was secretly a lion. She was the least musically experienced in our group, yet she became the force that inspired us, driving us all beyond our limits. One is a boisterous ball of energy who brought the team together to conquer a legend, refusing to give up even when she was kicked at her lowest. And the final one… he's a raging inferno, who started from zero and didn't stop until the streets were burned with the memory of his name. And it was that fire that pulled you along, until you too blazed with the same passion he held."
The younger boy's eyes widened as he absorbed every word.
"But until you meet him, meet them, keep playing. These years will be an invaluable experience, even if it takes you a long time to realize that fact."
"Even through the pain?"
"Even through when it hurts."
"…Even if I want to do nothing but run away from it all?" he replied quietly.
"…That time will inevitably come. But when it does, do not feel like a coward for escaping. Do not undermine what you have achieved. It may not have been up to the standards our father wanted for us, but that doesn't negate what we did learn, and accomplish."
"Okay…"
"Know that happier days are coming, full of experiences you would've thought unimaginable given our circumstances. You'll celebrate with your friends and teammates, and they'll have your back when everything gets to be a little too much."
Toya began to glow then, turning steadily brighter and brighter until pieces of him started crumbling into little triangles. "Looks like my time to leave has arrived," he said, rising from the bench.
"Wait!" the dual-haired child lunged forward, grabbing Toya's shirt. "Are you… do you really think I can…?"
Toya crouched down, ruffling his younger self's hair a bit. Akito's habits are really rubbing on me, he thought absently. "You have the strength to bear the pain, and the spirit to keep going." A few pats. "I know you can do it."
"Okay… goodbye, older me."
"See you."
As the world turned white, Toya felt a small pair of arms wrap around him.
"…Thank you." he heard faintly.
"You're welcome," he said quietly, a soft smile gracing his face.
And his consciousness faded out.
-~-
Toya woke up on the concrete ground of the alleyway, groaning a bit as his mind cleared. He stood up, dusting himself off and feeling endlessly grateful that Street Sekai was a clean place.
On the wall, the teal poster had faded, looking much more worn down - almost as if it had faced years in the sun. The next time Toya chose to stroll down these alleyways, it would surely be replaced by something else.
Similarly, the small orb representing the fragment Sekai was gone.
…as was his phone?
Did I leave it in the cafe? he wondered as he patted his pants, scanning the area for the missing device. His pockets came out empty, sans his wallet and earbuds.
"…hey! Toya!"
The dual haired boy looked back up. "Was that… Meiko-san's voice? Maybe she has my phone," he muttered. "I suppose I'll return to the cafe."
He retraced his steps, not bothering to examine the graffiti covered walls this time. He took the turn into the final alley-
-and promptly ran into Meiko.
She immediately gripped his shoulders. "Toya-kun! Goodness, I'm sorry for running into you, but are you okay?"
"It's okay, Meiko-san. I'm fine, a bump like that doesn't hurt. Are you okay?"
"No, I mean-!" Meiko huffed. "We've been worried sick! Kaito and Luka found your phone in the alley, and said you never showed up to practice with them. It's been almost an hour since! What happened?"
An hour? "Oh, I see… I was right."
"What?"
"I figured it out."
"Figured what out?"
"Why I felt doubtful earlier. Your words really helped me, Meiko-san, I'll have to thank you again."
"You…" a range of emotions crossed her face, and she shook her head and laughed. "No problem. Now care to explain where you disappeared to?"
"I believe Sekai needed to show me something," Toya explained as they started walking back to the cafe. "After our talk, I happened to stumble across it, and it took longer than I expected to sort out. I'm sorry for worrying you guys."
Meiko huffed again. "Alright, then. I'm just glad to see you're okay. You seem more clearheaded than before, too!"
"Does it really seem that way?"
"Yeah. As if a weight's been lifted off your shoulders." She glanced at him slyly. "I'm sure whichever fragment you entered sorted itself out, in the end. Now lets go find the other two before they get lost as well."
"How did you know…" Toya began, before changing his mind. Leave it to Meiko to understand him right away. "Nevermind. Luka knows the streets very well. She won't let Kaito wander off on his own."
They shared a chuckle.
Toya… did feel lighter. Odd, how he hadn't noticed. As they found the other virtual singers-
("Toya-kuuun! You left us behind…!"
"Don't go getting heatstroke on us, now!"
"I'm fine, Kaito-san, Luka-san. I'm sor- thank you for worrying about me."
They both had clung on to him and refused to let go until they re-entered the cafe.)
-Toya couldn't stop thinking about the duet. Perhaps he had needed the catharsis as much as his younger self.
Well, he thought, the entire point of the fragment Sekai is to have you confront hidden feelings.
Luka and Kaito began chatting again, and Meiko slid him another cup of coffee. "For good luck in the future."
"I appreciate it, Meiko-san."
She winked, heading off to join the other virtual singers in their conversation.
He took a slow sip. Her brews really were the best.
He wondered if his younger self would enjoy her coffees as well.