Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ichika yawns just before stepping into her usual stop for new guitar strings. The sun has already started to set. She would’ve been kicked out of the school at closing if she stayed any later. She stayed at school practicing after everyone left until one of her strings snapped. It’s been a while since she’s had to buy new ones. She hasn’t had this much motivation to practice in years.

She spent most of that time running over fingering practices while thinking about how to help Airi and Ena. Ichika and Saki have been playing their instruments for years. They underestimated how difficult it would be to take on a band with two people without experience with bands or instruments. 

To Ichika, it feels awkward to be teaching people who are her seniors, but both of them have been so kind and understanding. She knows there’s nothing to worry about, but it still affects the way she approaches them with certain issues. Correcting them on anything, even if they’re still learning, feels a little rude. She’s not like Saki, she’s much more comfortable taking up a reliable mentor role. 

It’s nice to see Saki so excited and looking forward to something every day. It’s been great having her back at school again though it was difficult for Ichika to confront her about just how far Honami and Shiho have grown apart from them in the time she was gone.

Ichika believes Saki took their subtle rejections the best she could. She donned a brave smile and accepted it. Seeing the hint of disappointment across her face made Ichika wallow in a puddle of guilt for not trying hard enough to keep them together. 

Saki seems to be moving on now, so Ichika tries her best to push forward each day as well. 

Ichika stares at the wall of guitar stings available; who knew there were this many different kinds? She has always grabbed the same type and brand every time since she started. Perhaps she should try a different kind? If she wants to grow as a dependable mentor for Aoharu/friends, she should know about these kinds of things about her own instrument before offering advice to others. However, she wouldn’t know much about what to tell Airi if she ever asked about changing the stings on her bass.

It’s probably best to figure out what all the different types are for before she chooses something blindly. Ichika takes out her phone and starts searching on the internet as someone approaches beside her and reaches for something from the wall. Ichika looks up and vaguely recognizes the silvery haircut.

“Shi—Shiho?”

“Eh?” She turns her head and her eyes drop, meeting Ichika’s. “Oh, it’s you.” Shiho pulls down her mask. “I thought I just got recognized again. You scared me.”

“Ah… Sorry,” Ichika laughs nervously. “I guess you guys have gotten pretty popular, huh?”

“Yeah, well,” Shiho grabs the bass strings she was reaching for and turns to head toward the cashier. “I guess it can’t be helped. Anyway, see you around.”

“Uh—wait, Shiho!”

She turns around “Yeah?”

“I—was just wondering…” There’s a lot Ichika has been wanting to ask her—about herself, her new idol group, about bands—but even now, there’s a rift so far between them that she can’t feel the other side. “What… kind of strings should I get?”

“Uh…” That question probably caught her off-guard.

“I usually get these, but I’m not sure if there’s any kind I should try if I want to keep improving.”

“Right,” Shiho redirects herself to the wall of choices: brass, bronze, steel, nickel, nylon, different thicknesses and winding types. She knows a lot about music and guitars in particular. Ichika is willing to try whatever she suggests. “Here, these are the ones my dad uses. A bit thinner than his, but once you get more comfortable you can move up a gauge if you want. It’ll make a different sound though. It’s up to you.”

Ichika accepts that pack of strings from Shiho. “Great, thank you.” 

“Anything else?”

“Well… I—”

“I was thinking about how I could turn how I feel right now into lyrics,” said Ichika.

“Huh...?”

“We'll see once I get a chance to put pen to paper. But… I'm just hoping that we get to keep playing our own music like this.”

“Yeah, I hope so too… I'll make sure to contribute to the next one. And we'll be looking forward to seeing what you come up with, Ichika.”

“Uh… Ichika?”

Huh… huh?

What?

“Are… you okay?” Shiho asks with mild concern.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just—”

“Okay then, I’ve gotta get to work so,” Shiho dips her head quickly and pulls her mask back up.

“Okay, see you…”

She leaves Ichika standing alone, dumbfounded. 

Music with Shiho? That’s weird. Why would Ichika remember something like that? They came up with some songs when they played together as kids, but most could be considered parodies rather than their own sound.

Ichika and Saki haven’t talked about writing original songs with Airi and Ena yet. That vision came out of nowhere. Ichika can’t ignore the heaviness that appeared in her chest along with it.

It would’ve been nice to be able to play with Shiho again, if only for a while just to learn how to be in a real band from her. But that’ll never happen now. Ichika has moved on, just like Saki, so there’s no point in dwelling on it. 

She pays for her new strings and makes her way home before night falls and the stars come out.

After another moderately productive practice session, Ena is slowly getting used to carrying a set of drumsticks in her school bag instead of a sketchbook and pencils. Much like how students with morning club activities pry themselves out of bed before five in the morning, she manages to make it to Miyajou just as their classes end so she can meet her bandmates for a few hours of practice before her classes start in the evening. It's the only time frame they have to work together during the week, and Airi and Ena need all the guided practice they can get. 

Ichika and Saki have been so sweet and helpful in the months since they were recruited to start a band. Helpful by means of what bands are supposed to do, not actually teaching them their instruments. 

Ena never particularly cared for music. Her first love was for painting which she's long since fallen out of touch with. As with any fine art, there will be more people vocal about your shortcomings than your praises, music included. However, more than anything, Ena longs to reconnect with Airi after she has been dealt her own share of struggles. This band is going to be their second chance at finding themselves before they fade away into monotony—even if they have no idea how to read sheet music.

Since she started learning more about music theory, Ena has been picking apart sounds she hears everywhere: in the school bell chime, supermarket jingles, and television advertisements. As she passes through Shibuya Station to get to school, a particular ad for a new idol group catches her ear.

A group called ‘Yume Yume Jump’ is advertising their first EP release. Ena has had no reason to keep up with idols outside of Airi's work when she was active, but even she happens to pick up on a few things just from spending a lot of time on social media before bed. 

A few months ago, there was a lot of talk in her social following about some of the top idols leaving their groups to pursue other opportunities, one right after the other. After learning about all the crap Airi went through, why would anyone put up with a job like that? Although, some of the subsequent exposure and popularity would be nice… Idols usually get hundreds if not thousands of followers just by getting hired by a company. 

Unlike starting an indie band from nothing—but that’s beside the point. She isn’t teaching herself to play the drums and researching girl bands and music history for followers (though she does have great ideas for selfies if she ever gets her own drum kit).

Regardless, she would much rather earn her way to fame than grant anybody the opportunity to say she’s riding off of somebody's coattails. Running drills on her drum pad every night is just as annoying for her as it is for the rest of her family, but that's the only way this thing is going to get anywhere.

One of the idols who left her group had a good thing going—she was well-loved, a great performer, and she was gorgeous to boot. She was even placed in the center for a lot of videos and promotional material, which is why there was such a commotion when her company announced she was leaving her group. The commotion didn’t stop when it came out that she was to lead a new group of nobodies—none of which had any prior public record of idol experience.

This particular group fascinates Ena for some reason she can’t understand. Maybe it’s the seemingly random assortment of girls they found to produce, or maybe just the drama behind it all makes her want to root for them. Any publicity is good publicity, she supposes.

The music from Yume Yume Jump’s ad has been ringing in her head all week. She almost looks forward to walking past the digital screen every day. Their composition is on another level compared to anything else Ena has made herself listen to. 

Eventually, she caves. She scans the QR code to save the EP and listens to it fully. Standing in the station, Ena takes out her earbuds and lets the first song play. 

It’s almost as if she can see the sounds as they enter her mind, the colors and shapes of the sounds change in her mind’s eye.

“I want you to draw something for this song, Ena… I want to see how you visualize it and what you'll make…”

“I... I want to draw too… But I'm scared…” Against a distant, hazy backdrop, Ena aired her self-deprecations in front of herself for all of them to see. “I hate the part of me that can't draw unless they get some sort of attention...!”

“I don't believe that you're the kind of person that needs recognition in order to draw, Ena. That's why I was drawn to your art. That's why I asked you to join Niigo…” A soft and caring voice found a way to Ena’s heart to make it swell. “If you need acknowledgement from someone, then I'll do just that.”

What? What the hell was that? 

What is ‘Niigo,’ and what about drawing? Ena hasn't thought about drawing in… at least a week… Who was she even talking to? 

That… wasn’t real, was it?

Thinking about it more seriously, Ena can’t recall any conversation like that ever happening or who it could’ve been with. 

That was weird… Why would she think about drawing now?

It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing to worry about now. Although it’s not like her dad thinks very highly of her new pastime either, at least she doesn’t have to hear him compare her awful paintings to his masterpieces anymore. Her dad knows nothing about bands, so why should she care about what he thinks? 

Not that she knows much about bands either.

It's not until someone bumps into her from behind that she realizes she's been gawking at this ad for a while. If anyone recognized her being entranced by some idol group, her reputation would never recover. 

She makes a mental note to look them up later to see if they have production credits listed anywhere on their socials. There's still so much she has to learn about what makes music so moving. She may as well start with a cool pop beat that's so powerful it creates fake memories to dredge up Ena's past insecurities.

The school bell chimes at the end of another sleepy afternoon English class. After being dismissed, Airi reaches up and stretches. Her classmates chatter around her as she stands to leave. There’s no time to be tired now, she has to get to their club room on the first years’ floor to get some extra practice in before Ena gets here. 

Airi swings her bass over one shoulder and her school bag over the other and leaves her class with a few scattered farewells to her classmates.

Yawning as she ascends the stairs, she’s pushed back with a sturdy thud and someone yelping.

“What the—?!”

“Ahh!!! I’m so sorry!” The girl who collided with Airi falls to the ground to pick up a bunch of papers she dropped. 

“Agh… It’s fine. I wasn’t really paying attention either.” Airi kneels to help her pick up the papers, assuming they’re worksheets or administration forms. Upon closer inspection, they look like filled-out applications. Her heart drops seeing the company in the corner for which they’re for. “Are these… yours?”

“Oh, Yeah! I—” The girl looks up and her bright gray eyes widen in horror. “Y—Y—You—”

“Yeah?”

“You’re Momoi Airi?!”

“That sure is my name. Don’t wear it out.” Airi brings out her best idol smile for this girl; she must be a fan. 

“Oh—oh my gosh, Mo—Momo—Momoi-senpai, I’m so sorry for crashing into you! I should’ve paid better attention to where I was going!” The girl drops down into the deepest bow she can muster.

Airi internally sighs. Getting recognized never feels any less embarrassing, but getting used to it would mean it’s lost all meaning to her. If she were to be forgotten, that would sting worse. 

“Listen, I already said it’s fine.” Airi keeps the most polite voice she can. “Please stand up, people are staring…”

“Oh, okay…” she gets up and sorts through the papers in her hands. “Thanks for helping me.”

“You’re an idol?” Airi asks outright.

This girl dropped a bunch of paperwork for MoriPro, a popular idol agency. She doesn’t necessarily have a natural idol charm to her, but she could definitely fit into a bumbling, underdog stereotype. She’d be stuck with that persona for the rest of her career though.

“Well, I want to be! I’ve been practicing really hard and applying to agencies every day!”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, I was planning on auditioning for MoriPro next!” Minori declared a bit too affirmatively to actually understand the gravity of what she just said.

“MoriPro?!” Airi exclaimed. “That's a major talent agency! Do you have any idea how low their acceptance rate is?! An amateur like you would be lucky to even pass their initial screening!”

“I've applied about fifty times so far and passed the initial application screening about three times… but… I haven't managed to get further than that, yet…”

“And you honestly think you have a chance at MoriPro?! I doubt you even have a shot with the smaller agencies.” A tinge of regret was caught in Airi’s throat but she didn't back down. This kind of tough reality check was necessary. She’s saving her from future heartbreak.

“S—Still! I want to try harder! If I dedicate myself, I'm sure I can do it! More, more, more!”

Was that… her? This girl?

She is applying for MoriPro, but… they’ve never talked before now; Airi would’ve remembered a character like her. Where did that thought… that memory come from?

The girl stays in her position, feet firmly planted at the top of the stairwell and head lowered as if she never stopped bowing.

“I’m so sorry, uh… Momoi-senpai, but I’ve got to run! Today I have my first audition in months!” She avoids Airi’s gaze, moving past her and continuing down the stairs. 

“Wait, Minori!”

“Wha… wha—wha—wha—WHAT?? You know my name?!”

“Oh… um…” Airi glances down at the paper still in her hand that Minori was about to run off without. “It’s written here. You forgot your paperwork.”

“Right!” She bows one last time. “I will forever be grateful for your help today, Momoi-senpai! Thank you again! Now, I really have to go!”

“Right…” Airi’s left on the stairs, slightly mortified at the stares Minori garnered in her direction. 

She has no choice but to do what she does best: shrug it off and carry on with a smile.

The day has finally come. It's the first day of the school trip of Saki’s dreams! 

Three nights at a beachside resort! What could be a better first trip than that? Well, if a musty school building with minimal staff and being required to work on a team project for a grade qualifies as a resort. 

But group work is always more fun than individual assignments, and this one seems like a piece of cake! They have to work in groups of four to create a presentation for the end of the trip. It can be anything they want to do. 

Two of Saki’s groupmates already know each other. She's seen Emu and Kohane around school before but doesn't know much about either of them. Apparently, they’re the bestest of friends and are in the same after-school volunteer program at Phoenix Wonderland. 

It's too bad her brother doesn't go to Miyajou—he'd love to be in a club like that. He tried to get a job there a few months ago, but he never heard anything back from them.

The final member of their group is one of Saki’s childhood best friends, Honami. She and Emu are classmates, but they haven't had the chance to talk much. Emu mentioned she was super duper excited to make a new friend while Honami was kind of reserved in their first team meeting.

Honami has always sort of been like that with strangers but never with Saki. The dullest pang beats in her chest every time she says something polite and distant, every time she shuts herself off from Saki’s kindness. They're not close friends anymore, and it's not getting any easier to accept.

Ultimately, they decided to do something music-related since Saki can play the piano, and Emu and Kohane can sing. They want Honami to sing too, but she says she's not that great of a performer or anything, not like the other three. She’s not the creative type. 

Saki wanted to tell her she was wrong, she used to be a great drummer when they were kids, but she held back. It didn’t seem like Honami would be open to playing the drums now more than when Saki asked her to join her band at the start of the semester. They ran out of time at their meeting before deciding what role Honami could take for their presentation. If they can’t think of something, they’ll have to scrap their music idea.

Later that evening at dinnertime, Saki overhears Honami talking to her friends, mildly agreeing she thinks this presentation assignment is annoying and lame—the same complaints the rest of them give, but it oddly cuts deeper than that.

Something feels off, like this is wrong.

Saki sets her food tray next to Ichika and Haruka at a table with Emu and Kohane. She quickly excuses herself to run and grab something from her room. She smiles wide and reassures Ichika that nothing’s wrong despite her tells that Ichika knows—giveaways that even Saki can’t figure out.

She walks past Honami's table again, but Honami doesn’t notice her as she goes by.

It doesn’t matter now, not really. People grow and they make new friends. That’s just life, isn’t it?

Looking out over the sky growing golden, all of her classmates are laughing and enjoying the dinner they made together. With a deep breath, she takes in the scene, desperate to commit it to memory. 

This… She’s waited years for this. It isn’t going to be dampened by anything or anyone.

“I wanted to see the ocean one last time,” Emu called out. “Look, it's all orange now. Isn't it pretty?” 

Honami chimed in. “Oh wow...! It's so romantic. It didn't look like this at all during the day…”

“Yeah, this is amazing! I wish it would just stay like this forever…” Saki lamented. 

“I know what you mean. Seeing a seascape like this makes you want to stay just a little longer,” Kohane added. 

“But we all have to go home at some point…”

“Yeah! Hona-chan and I have to get back to band practice!” Saki cheered. 

Honami softly laughed, the sunset’s final warmth spread across her face. “Back to pursuing our dream.”

Oh… 

Her head rushes, and she doesn’t feel very good. Not like she’s going to be sick, but…

Saki quickly ducks into the building. When a teacher stops her and asks where she’s going, she says she got a bit of sand in her eye and is going to her room for a clean towel.

That’s all it is. A bit of sand in her eye and a bit more in her heart. That’s why it feels so funny. 

Saki and Honami in the same band… If only…

These memories… No, Saki knows these wishes—are just something from her imagination, but they feel too real. She hates how she can close her eyes to see that flash of a different life, one where they never grew apart, where they stayed together. They could've formed a band for real and played alongside each other forever.

Finally reaching her room, she finds a towel and dries her face. She’s moved past it, losing Shiho and Honami as friends, so why is she crying now, after a great day on such a fun trip?

Ena and Airi are cool seniors and super fun to hang out with. Saki would never dare to think of kicking them out of her band, but if she had the chance, would she choose them again over fighting for Shiho and Honami? She can’t entertain the thought if she wants the chance to collect herself and return to dinner.

Even if it’s just her imagination, she can’t help but wish… Sure, Saki finally got to enjoy the school trip of her dreams, but her heart aches over the possibility that the four of them could have enjoyed it together.

Chapter Text

Shiho plucks away at her bass into the later hours of the night before she decides her fingers have had enough. The solos she's prepared to show to Kanade for an upcoming song aren't getting any better at this point. There's no use in running drills religiously if she's never going to have an actual shot at going pro with a real girl band. There’s always the chance that she could join an idol band a few years down the line or maybe pioneer one of her own, but thinking so far ahead…

She never imagined YYJ would get this popular nor would people get so attached to her. Even if she quit now, her teenage idoldom will follow her around for the rest of her life. If not, ‘Hinomori Shizuku’s sister’ is a name she’ll never be able to distance herself from, especially not after performing in a group with her.

Shiho can’t even hold her own job away from it all. Playing her bass so late into the night is a release after being dismissed from her part-time gig at the live house. Apparently, some creeps have been showing up to ask what days she’s working. Her boss—former boss—said it was for her safety, and Shiho can’t blame her, but it sucks… It’s like nothing is hers anymore. She can’t walk outside without a disguise or a mask and hat at least. Nobody at school seemed to care about her music until her music involved Shizuku. 

Thinking about staying in YYJ for much longer is hard when she doesn't even want to go to their show tomorrow, let alone every show, rehearsal, meeting, and press event for however many years it takes Shiho to garner a name for herself. She missed her opportunity to comfortably quit as a temporary member some time ago. Splitting off from a popular group and going solo or starting a new group has just as slim of a shot of making it big as any other artist. 

That's exactly why she assumed Yume Yume Jump wouldn't get so far as one foot on a big stage before the project was canceled. Shiho was skeptical that Shizuku’s name would be all it takes to get a new idol group’s name far enough to be considered a successful project. She’s terrible for thinking her sister's work was doomed to fail, but she thought it was the reality they faced.

Never has she regretted being so wrong before.

Shiho switches off her bedroom lights and lies flat on her futon. One of their group’s songs resonates through the floor from the next room over. Shizuku’s trying to be quiet, but she’s not sneaky enough. Even at this late hour, she’s still practicing for tomorrow. 

Shiho grumbles, surrounding her head with her pillow. She doesn’t want to think about the show tomorrow—how it’ll go, who will be there, and who won’t. There’s going to be a meet-and-greet event after the show. If Shiho recognizes anyone from school, she will quit on the spot—if only just mentally giving up on the freedom of her image. She’d rather not anyone know about her stupid persona of being a ‘cute, temperamental younger sister,’ but look where that’s got her.

There's something she may regret more than joining an idol group. Every time Shiho catches wind of something Ichika and Saki are doing with their new band, she catches herself thinking about what she'd be doing if she were with them.

It’s a waste to imagine what they might think of Shiho taking up idol work instead of becoming a professional bassist as she planned. She has no right to hope that they would show up to one of her concerts after she’s practically left them to figure out their band for themselves. 

Just this afternoon, Saki came to ask Shiho if she wanted to eat lunch with her. The whole exchange felt weird. Shiho can't stand herself knowing it's all her fault. If only she'd been a better friend to Saki, if she just agreed to try and be friends again, to join her band, to eat lunch together even once…

“Shiho-chan... You really don't want to go?” Saki pouted.

Shiho sighed, “Give me a moment to think it over.” Deep down, she knew there wasn’t an excuse she could come up with that Saki couldn’t counter. It was a lost cause. “I've got work on that day, so I'll have to swap my shift with someone else.”

“So you'll come? Yay!” Saki cheered and lunged to wrap her arms over Shiho’s shoulders.

“Stop being so clingy. I get enough of that from my sister,” she grumbled. “There's one condition, though. Don't start slacking off with band practice because of this trip. If I see you start to get lazy, I'm out. Got it?”

“No worries! I'll practice diligently every day!”

Ugh, another one of her stupid delusions. Her mind is playing tricks on her, and she can't fall for them. 

Shiho turns on her side and holds her pillows tightly to her aching chest.

Every so often, Shiho sees and hears them like they’re real, replaying a moment in her mind like a memory she will never have. Is this some sort of punishment? Does her own mind hate her so much that she can’t live with her choices without daydreaming about what might’ve been?

She can’t stand the sight of Saki’s face—not in her friendly smile, offering Shiho some extra snacks she packed specifically to have a reason to talk to Shiho, nor in her joyous anticipation of something that will never come, being trapped in a moment that isn’t real.

She can't let herself hope there's a world out there where her life exists happily with them in it. 

With the thrumming of pop music faintly drifting through the wall, Shiho fights herself all night, desperately trying to think of anything to distract herself from her real and imaginary life—anything to take this nauseous warmth away.

Kanade heaves a sigh that releases all over her aching body. She needs to sit down…

Building up the stamina to perform a full show with Yume Yume Jump is one thing; having the energy to stand for a meet-and-greet after the show with only short breaks dispersed throughout feels like something else entirely. 

She never thought she could have fans of her own, not when she’s in a group with three other bright and talented members. However, one after another it seemed like she would never reach the end of her line. She kept a smile on her face and tried to greet every last one of them as properly as she could. She tried to commit every name and face to memory, but memories get a bit hazy after the first 20 people or so. 

Despite the exhaustion settling in, it’s slightly invigorating to know real people were listening to their songs and were moved by them. Those are the names and faces she works so hard for. Knowing her music was reaching them means everything to her.

Now that her line has cleared out, it seems like she might finally be able to rest. Looking over to her side, Shiho still has a few more people in her line; so does An. As expected, the three of them will be waiting for Shizuku to greet everyone for a while yet. 

Kanade turns to take a sip of water just as her staff notifies her that someone is approaching. She quickly turns back and swallows her water wrong.

“Hello! Is this line still open?” asks the fan. She looks nice with her light pink hair tied up in a ribbon and a frilly outfit to match. She seems laid back despite her excitement bursting behind a smile. 

“Oh, um—” Kanade struggles to suppress her coughing. “Sorry—I—”

“Yes, your time begins now,” Kanade’s timekeeper announces. Can’t she have a moment to clear her throat?

“I just wanted to say that I’m so impressed by how far you’ve come! I’m classmates with An, and I came here today with one of my friends who loves idols even more than I do. Weirdly enough she’s also classmates with Shiho-chan, so I know all about how hard you work for this group behind the scenes.”

“Oh… Thank you…”

She’s so earnest. Her words are… comforting, somehow.

The girl’s excitement runs away with her the longer she talks. “And your role in the group as the underdog who doesn’t come from any kind of experience in performing whatsoever makes your persona that much more enticing! I just can’t help but root for you~!” She squeals. 

She leans in slightly and lowers her voice. “I think you might be my new oshi—don’t tell An though~”

Kanade softly laughs. “That’s good to hear, I guess.”

“But more importantly… I wanted to ask, you’re the composer of all your guys’ songs, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

She laughs nervously, “Maybe this is weird to say, but your songs…”

“You keep saying that you haven't been able to save anyone yet. But I can say for sure that you saved me. At least, the old me.”

“Huh?”

Rather than who Kanade saw as ‘Amia,’ the face behind a screen, it felt like she was seeing ‘Mizuki’ for the first time. 

“Since I was little, I thought that living life was way too hard, and I really didn't like it. Then, around junior high, I convinced myself that everything would be better if I just disappeared. 

“But that was when I heard one of your songs. I felt that I'd found someone that was just like me.”

“Mi…”

“Time’s up,” the staff member declares. “Thank you very much.”

“Uh—”

“I’ll come see you again, Kanade-chan! Great work today!” Mizuki cheers before turning back to her friend waiting by the exit. Just before she walks out of the door, she turns and waves to Kanade with a smile. Kanade waves back, but she’s already gone. 

“We’re going to start wrapping things up. Would you like to return to the green room, Yoisaki-san?”

“Oh… Okay,” she replies. The staff member guides her out of the meeting hall, but Kanade is still fixated on the exit. 

That girl… was just like her…?

Kanade forgot to thank her.

It wasn’t her first time performing on a stage like that, but it was the first time she ever performed for that many people at once. Coming off of the stage, An felt that warm, familiar, and fulfilling buzz in her chest. For the first time in a while, it seems she might be on the right track to getting where she wants to go.

Achieving wide enough popularity for a show like that within their first few months of public activity is already a greater accomplishment than what she imagined Yume Yume Jump could do. 

After cleaning up and changing out of her costume, the post-show jitters wear out quickly. She's already itching to think about the next big step, but getting some decent sleep for once is the next small step.

An pushes through the stage door to head home, and her heart jumps out of her chest at the sight of someone waiting just outside, leaning against the building.

She immediately backs up. She should’ve asked security to walk her out. “Oops, sorry! Wrong door…”

“Wait, Shiraishi—!”

“Eh?” 

The mysterious figure pulls down his mask, and his split-tone hair registers as an acquaintance. 

“T—Touya?! What… what are you doing here?” She asks in a hushed tone, looking around to see if any of the staff inside is watching them.

“Is everything alright, Shiraishi?” A manager calls from inside the building.

“Yeah, I'm fine! See you tomorrow!” She pushes past Touya and fishes her mask out of her bag along with a hat to hide her hair.

“Come with me.” An lowers her voice and guides Touya into the busy street. The best disguise is hiding in plain sight. “So? How did you find me here? Why did you find me? Did Akito put you up to this?”

“I came to see your show of my own accord. I apologize if I overstepped, but I wanted to know what kind of performance you could give. I had no ill intentions.”

“And? What are you going to report back to him.” The slightest bitter sting leaves her tongue, but she tries to keep as bright a voice as she can muster.

“I already told you. He had nothing to do with this.”

An glances over at him, not believing that for a second.

Touya sighs, “He believes you've given up on surpassing Rad Weekend, and it frustrates him deeply. It's begun to affect the way he practices.” 

She doesn't see how that's her problem? There's no point in him rattling off things she already knows, but the pit in her stomach won't allow her to interrupt. 

“I think you’re a great performer, Shiraishi. Why did you leave Vivid Street?”

An grips her bag a bit tighter. 

Why? He’s asking why she left?

“It’s not like I’ve left it behind for good…”

“I haven’t seen you singing in the streets in months.”

“Yeah, well, I have a public image to uphold now, you know? I’d get in trouble if I called too much attention to myself like that without permission.”

“I don’t understand,” Touya murmurs. “For the past two years, I have been trying to catch up to Akito while he has been going after you. All that time… I think I misjudged you.”

“What?”

He continues calmly, “I thought you could become the spirit of Vivid Street that guides everyone. Rad Weekend inspired more people than you realize.”

“So what?” An’s grip on herself is falling through her fingers. “You think this kind of work is beneath me? That I should quit and go back?”

“Please do not misunderstand. Of course, you are free to do as you wish… it’s just that…” He hesitates. “If you’re running away from something, I want you to know… I’ve been there, and it’s not the answer.”

“Wha—”

“This music was how I met Akito and found my dream. Which led to us teaming up with Shiraishi and Azusawa. It made me believe from the bottom of my heart that singing is fun, and I want to share that feeling. 

“I firmly believe this music is something I can't live without anymore.”

“Touya…”

“I guess moving forward in life takes courage. The courage to keep trying again and again…”

An’s voice trembles, “I… I’m the one who doesn’t understand…” She feels lightheaded and overwhelmed, not really sure if she can trust that memory that came to her. 

“I thought I needed to find a team. I couldn’t find anyone in Vivid Street, so I went looking somewhere else. Was that the wrong thing to do?”

Touya stays quiet. 

“This was only supposed to be temporary. Did I make a mistake in staying?” She regrets the words as they fall out of her, but she can’t stop. “Should I have kept trying, like you said?”

“When did I—”

“None of that matters now. I… I love my job. I love my fans and my teammates. I have no reason to leave them.”

“I see,” Touya responds quietly. “I am truly sorry for troubling you with this. I just thought… with the recent news…”

An’s blood runs cold. The mention of the possible ‘news’ he’s referring to stops her in her tracks.

“Those are just rumors,” she mutters.

“Right. I apologize.” He slows to a stop just ahead of her. 

Please, An winces. Please don't be sorry for me.

“I won’t come to you about this again. I've said all that I wanted to.” He turns to leave. “It may not seem like it, and I may not have the right, but I truly wish you the best. 

“I'll be rooting for you, Shiraishi.”

She blinks back her tears and looks up to face him, but he’s already faded from sight into the busy, evening crowd.

After a long weekend of performing and greeting everyone after their concert, Shizuku walks into class with her head held high and a polite smile pointed towards everyone who greets her. Her legs are quite sore, but that’s nothing any of her classmates should be concerned about. When she reaches her desk, Airi is already there, pouring herself over a music book with a series of chords in it. 

“Good morning, Airi-chan! Are you learning a new song for your band?”

Airi looks up from her book. “Hm? Oh, yeah.”

Shizuku sets her bag at her desk but moves to stand beside Airi. “I heard you’re playing your first show at a festival soon. That’s so exciting!” 

“How’d you hear about that?” 

“Oh, well, Shii-chan asked if you invited me. I hadn’t heard about it until then. Saki-chan wanted us to come if we were able to make it.”

“I see.” Airi refocuses on her music book. “You should come. Unless you have work, then I understand if you can’t. I can text you the details once we know more about our slot.”

“That would be great! Thank you, Airi-chan!”

“Mhm,” Airi hums unfocused. It’s been a lot harder to talk to her since she joined her band. It was already quite difficult to hold a conversation after she left QT. Shizuku hasn’t been able to shake the feeling that she wasn’t trying hard enough to get through to her. Despite no longer being fellow idols, Shizuku doesn't want the friendship she found in Airi to disappear.

“It’s so wonderful how you started playing the bass! I'm sure Shii-chan would help you with anything you’re having trouble with.” 

The air between them staggers. Airi reluctantly replies, “I guess… if we find the time. Which, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your show the other day.” 

“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about at all. We were all so busy that day that we would’ve hardly had the chance to speak.” The weight in her words sinks Shizuku’s own heart. It’s hard to believe this is how true friends talk to each other. 

“We’re all working hard and keeping busy these days.” 

“She's been working hard as the center all this time!” Airi’s voice boomed through the entire auditorium all the way to the stage's catwalks.

“I was just as jealous as you are! Jealous of Shizuku's looks and the fact that she was so special! I admit I was upset that she was always chosen over me no matter how much effort I put in! 

“But... Open your eyes! Shizuku never once took advantage of her position! She always put in the effort to live up to everyone's expectations of her. She continued trying to give hope to her fans. That's why she's so popular. That's why she was chosen as lead! All we did was start sulking in our own jealousy. She's nothing like us!” 

“Airi-chan…”

There were tears in her eyes. 

“I'm sorry, Shizuku.” 

Shizuku stumbles backward and catches herself on a nearby desk.

“Woah, are you okay?” Airi exclaims, reaching an arm out to steady her.

“I… I'm—so sorry, I just…” Before she can understand anything, Shizuku feels her face burning and tears welling in her eyes. “I think I need to excuse myself to the nurse’s office…” She shields her face from Airi and heads towards the classroom door. 

“Wait! Do you need help?” 

“No, I…” Shizuku bumps into a classmate staggering into the room just before the bell. “Oh, I’m sorry—I’ll be alright. Please let the teacher know I’ll be late.”

She makes it to the staircase without anyone following her, and the lightheadedness subsides. She falls to sit on a step, and she has to cover her mouth to prevent a soft sob from escaping.  An idol shouldn’t be crying in school like this. 

What was that? 

All at once, she saw Airi somewhere in her mind. She was overcome with a helplessness she thought she had escaped since leaving Cheerful*Days for Yume Yume Jump. 

Shizuku swallows her tears and an intense pulling in her chest. It’s as if she just lost something so precious to her in an instant, but what?

That memory… felt so real. Shizuku has never been an imaginative type—how could she make up such a clear vision of Airi’s voice? Airi… defended her… from what? 

The scene keeps echoing through her mind, but she can’t place any of it. That never happened… It’s only a wish—a dream of what she wishes Airi would be—how selfish of her. 

Shizuku misses the days when they could rely on each other to go against a world they weren’t prepared for. Somewhere along the way, Shizuku wasn’t able to help Airi, and she left that world behind as a result. At least she seems to have found a new path, as has Shizuku. She has to be okay with that. 

But her heart aches; the beating in her chest is tortuous. This isn’t how things were supposed to go, is it? 

Has Airi lost all of her inspiration to her painful past? Has Shizuku lost all of the inspiration she once found in Airi’s tenacity?

She can’t let herself think of the answer.

“Airi-chan…” Shizuku cries softly to herself. “You were my idol… Airi-chan…”

Please, this can’t be how it ends.