Archive of Our Own

The street between the fourth and fifth avenue of the central business district was a strange one. It was nestled between tall, unassuming buildings, most of them unmarked, and only had a small, golden lettered plate above the doors to let any passerbys know its importance. Haruka’s driver almost entirely passed it by on their venture down the street, having to perform a quick U-turn whilst profusely apologising. She had smiled and waved him off. It wasn’t as though they were running late.

Only the smooth and untroubled movements of the sliding door fully relieved Haruka that she was at the correct building, stepping through with her head high. The inside was a stark contrast to the desolate area outside, a sleek and modern reception full of black and white smooth-cornered furniture. With their carefully styled bangs and kitten heels, the women behind the desks were similar to Haruka, except for their natural hair colours. That was what set them apart, what made it obvious Haruka was the client, not the employee. The ocean blue hair that made everyone look up when she entered the room.

“Ah, Kiritani, welcome!” one of them women greeted before Haruka had even fully stepped up to the reception. “The team are waiting for you up on the fifth floor. Please follow me, I’ll guide you through to the elevator.”

“Thank you,” Haruka said, bowing her head. There was a gentle piano medley of popular songs playing somewhere, and it didn’t stop even as Haruka waited for her floor to arrive. The elevator made a gentle chime as its doors opened, three short soft tones. A G, maybe. Several notes too high compared to the one she was used to hearing.

“Kiritani!” A man greeted her as she stepped into the room, a cool and polished environment. She had only seen him on TV before, and he didn’t look much different in person. Clean shaven and tall. Not that it mattered much. As the son of a wealthy network executive, he would have ended up in this position with a three foot beard and platform shoes. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Thank you for being here today.”

“Yes, likewise. Thank you for your invitation. I look forward to working with you.” Haruka bowed again, deeper this time. She kept her hands clasped politely, firmly, making sure not to crumple the fabric of her skirt. Every part of her outfit had been custom made, fitted perfectly to her body. She looked elegant and pretty, and the approving smiles of the camera crew further confirmed that fact. 

“I trust your agent already filled you in on all the key details, but I’ll remind you in again just so we can be sure,” he said, leading her over to the room where their set had been positioned. “I know we already discussed the questions and answers over the phone, but don’t worry if there’s anything you want to add or remove whilst we’re in the process of filming. Any answers you aren’t happy with or want to reshoot, just let us know and we can restart the take for you. The whole process should take around three to four hours, and we’ll contact you again before airing to make sure you’re happy with the editing.”

Haruka followed her usual protocol of nodding along, speaking when needed, complimenting the set where necessary. It wasn’t the first interview she’d done, but it was the first from a company so high-scale, and the first since her new single had released. They were going to ask about it, she already knew that. It was the thing both nerving and calming her. 

Once in the chair, her blush and lip gloss being touched up by the gentle women around her, Haruka tried to remember her rehearsed answers as best she could. The head movements and smiles she had practised in the mirror weeks before, trying to look both cool but invested. Calm, but not bored. Easygoing, but not stupid. Of course they had offered her a retake, but it would be unprofessional to ask. Every rule was unspoken. Every minute mattered. That was being bookable. That was being an idol.

Haruka squeezed her own hand just as the countdown ended. Completely unnoticeable, but an unparalleled comfort. The feeling of not being alone, and the feeling of understanding why she was here. The smile came to her easily as she broke through the opening small talk, the jokes and light laughter. Unscripted, but written a thousand times before. It came naturally to her at this point.

“So, Kiritani, we’re coming up on your fifth year of performing solo concerts, with an expected audience of around thirty thousand. That must feel amazing, right? Did you ever think it would get to this level?”

“Well, I think thirty thousand is a little too high of a prediction.” A laugh. “But, yes. It’s incredible. I’m so grateful to be where I am today, to be able to perform in front of so many people. Sometimes it’s still hard to believe.”

“I get that. After all these years, looking back- how would you describe the experience? How is being an idol, for you? 

“Are you serious?” The dismay in her voice burst down all across the hallway, and probably into the nearby classrooms too. “I didn’t make it?”

Haruka stared at the display in front of them, a bright collection of various poems drawn out on colourful paper, apparently the very best that Class 2A could muster. Hers was in in the middle, a stupid passage about grass and summer that had practically ended up as a parody of serious writing. Some of them were about the ocean, some about rain. There was even one about ramen. Minori’s three stanzas about friendship had seemingly not made it.

“Maybe they just didn’t have space,” Haruka said, raising her eyebrows at one poem detailing the writer’s love for their ‘puppy-wuppy’. 

“But there’s a giant gap over there,” Minori said, pouting at a conspicuously large space by the border that probably could have fit another page, if minimal effort had been applied. “Do you think it was too long? Or maybe too short? Should I have gone for the pink gel pen instead of the blue? But the pink was way too hard to read!”

“I thought it was good,” Haruka said. “It was earnest.”

“I worked so hard too,” Minori said mournfully. “I went through all the dictionary to find words that fit, and I had to rewrite it three times, and then I had to redo the last one because I spilt juice all over the page...”

“They should’ve included it. You really worked harder than anyone.”

“Yeah.” Minori sighed, before lifting her head back up. “But, it’s okay! Maybe next time. By the time they need a new display up, I’ll definitely have improved enough to get the middle centre spot! I can just change my poem into one of my songs, so it’s not like it’ll be wasted!”

“You’ll definitely get it next time,” Haruka said. “They probably just chose these at random. Mine was awful.”

“Yours was really nice!” Minori said, suddenly smiling again. It still threw Haruka sometimes just how easily she could bounce back from failure. “I liked the part about the cicadas. It made me feel all warm, like I was lying in a field in the summer sun.”

“Cicadas don’t even live in grass, they live in trees,” Haruka muttered. She turned away from the display board, ready to go to lunch. “It doesn’t even make sense.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense,” Minori said, following after, clutching her backpack with vigour. Her tiny clover keychain jingled as she walked. “Poetry is about feeling! It’s about love! You just write whatever you feel and whatever you wanna be, and that’s what makes it fun. Who cares about where cicadas live, or how to spell words? That stuff doesn’t matter compared to feeling.”

“I like the way you think about it,” Haruka said, laughing. “But I don’t think our teacher would agree.”

“I guess not…” But there was no real defeat in her voice, not really. Haruka could see her still bounce as she walked, hair clipped back out of her face. It was that familiar determination Haruka always saw whenever Minori failed, the fierce hope in the future. A fire that refused to be extinguished. A flower that refused to be crushed. Haruka hated seeing Minori be so constantly overlooked, but the passion that constantly radiated from her- that was something truly beautiful to see. If she didn’t have curfew and didn’t need to sleep, Haruka was sure she could spend every moment of her day basking in Minori’s light.

“Anyway, I don’t need to worry about the poems or that stuff anyway,” Minori said as she fell back onto the grass, their usual spot behind the school to have lunch. “There’s something way way way more exciting happening soon! Did you hear about it? The TV show coming to our school?”

“It’s not a TV show,” Haruka said, shaking her head. “It’s just the local news recording a tiny segment for something that’ll probably only be broadcast once.”

“Yes! On TV!” Minori jostled a little too violently in her excitement, knocking one of the tomatoes out of her bento onto the grass. “Ahh…”

“I just don’t think you should get your hopes up too much when they might not even show anything,” Haruka said, passing over a piece of her own lunch to replace Minori’s. “They’ll probably give the sports team most attention.”

“No way! You heard what the music teacher said, they’re doing actual real auditions to choose who’s gonna get the solo! Why would they go through all that trouble if it’s not even going to be seen?”

“Well...I don’t know.” Haruka hadn’t thought about it much. It wasn’t anything that interested her. She only participated in Choir because she had to.

“And the song we have to sing for the audition is one I really really love, too,” Minori continued, eyes shining as she considered it. “I’ve been singing it every single night when I’m in the bath, even when my mom tells me to shut up! Maybe I can even sing it in the morning too? I’m gonna sing as much as I possibly can and then I’ll definitely get the solo! And then I’ll be on TV, just like an idol!”

“That would be nice,” Haruka said, and smiled down at her lunch. “I like watching you sing.”

“We can practice together! You can come to my house, I bet my mom wouldn’t be as mad if you’re singing too. We can practice to be idols together!”

“I would have thought two people singing is more annoying than one…”

“No,” Minori said, then leaned against her, grinning. “Because you have a really nice voice, Haruka.”

“I-I don’t…” But there was no point trying to fight it. The shine in Minori’s eyes, the weight of her against her shoulder. It was probably a good thing Haruka wasn’t a teacher or newscaster, because if it was up to her, she would give Minori absolutely everything.

“I really do love being an idol,” Haruka said, taking care to enunciate properly as she answered. “Of course, there are sometimes difficult times, but it’s always worth it. I have everyone who supported to me to thank for that. And I’m always still learning, still experiencing new things. The future is always so exciting.”

“That’s an incredible way to feel. I can imagine it must be a very rewarding line of work.”

“Yes, absolutely. I couldn’t imagine living my life any other way.”

“Of course, of course. You can really see it when you perform. It’s like a complete transformation. Sitting here now, you seem so cool and composed, but when you’re on stage, you make the whole crowd go crazy! It’s really amazing.”

Haruka smiled. “Thank you.”

“Has music always been a big part of your life? Did you always plan you were going to be an idol even from a young age?”

“From a young age…”

“Uwahhhh, I’m so nervous!”

Minori reeled back in her chair so far that it almost toppled back, causing a loud rattle that made a few in their class murmur. Haruka kept a small encouraging smile, trying to act as a calming force for her friend. 

“Hey, you don’t have any reason to be nervous. I doubt anyone in here has rehearsed even a fraction as the amount you’ve done.”

“But- but- what if I mess up the high note again? Or my voice cracks? Or I don’t remember the words?” Minori sunk down against the desk, holding her head in her hands. “Ahh, the pressure is too much...I’ve had so many dreams about it but now it’s here it doesn’t feel real…”

“You’ll be fine,” Haruka said, putting a head on her friend’s back. “All you have to do is sing for thirty seconds. You won’t mess up. You hardly ever get the words wrong when we practice together.”

“That’s because I have you for support! In there, I’ll be all alone…”

“It’s not like I’m even any good at being support,” Haruka said. “I’d never even heard the song until you showed me. And I still don’t really understand the lyrics. Not the way that you seem to.”

“Understand them?” Minori looked up, blinking. “How can you not understand them? I thought they were pretty simple…”

“I mean, I know what the words mean, it’s just-” Haruka frowned, searching for the explanation she needed. “How do you put that much emotion into it when you sing? I feel like I’m just- repeating something.”

“Ummm…” Minori pulled a face. “You just kind of...do it? I don’t really know. I don’t really think about it. Uwah, do you think I should be thinking about it? Even when I write my own songs I don’t think that much!”

Haruka shook her head. “No, I think you’re fine. When I hear you sing- it feels like you understand what you’re doing. It’s- real. But I’m not like that. I’m probably just not cut out for singing.”

“No way! Haruka, you’re amazing! You hit those high notes like it’s nothing! When I try I feel like my throat is gonna split in two!”

“No...”

“If you’re worried about the song, you should just try thinking of something that reminds you of what the song is saying,” Minori said, lifting herself back up. She knocked a strand of hair loose from its clip, and the way it dangled over face struck Haruka as cute. “Like...something you relate to! So you hear a love song, and think about all the delicious kinds of foods you wanna try! And then when you sing, it’ll sound like you’re really feeling that kind of love. So, just try thinking of a really tasty parfait whilst you sing! Or penguins! A penguin parfait!”

Haruka smiled. “Is that how it works?”

Minori ducked down, face flushing. “Uhh, I guess that sounds kind of weird, huh? Sorry, I’m really bad at giving advice!”

“No,” Haruka started to say, before a call of Minori’s name over at the doorway interrupted them. The girl instantly flew up, her chair clattering to the floor. More stares from their classmates. A few laughs that didn’t feel particularly kind.

“I wasn’t nervous just then but now I’m super nervous again!” Minori yelped, then threw her arms around Haruka. “Hugs for good luck! And for no nerves!”

“Ah-” Just as Haruka’s brain caught up enough to raise her arms, Minori was hurrying away out the classroom towards her audition. She really had worked hard. The same as she always did, really. Haruka couldn’t understand sometimes why nobody else could see what she saw in Minori.

That thought stuck with her as she went in for her own audition. If it was her choice, she would’ve opted out, chosen to given Minori the spotlight she deserved, but they made everyone at least try. So Haruka closed her eyes, and tried to think of parfait. Of something she wanted. Something she loved. The song, suddenly, made sense.

That was why it hurt an extra amount a few weeks later, when they announced in front of the entire class that the solo had been given to Haruka instead.

“I’m not sure I really thought about music much, as a child,” Haruka said, then laughed. “That’s probably the opposite of what a lot of idols say. I understand the fascination of wanting to become a star as a child, but I guess for me, I never really believed it was an attainable goal.”

“Really? That’s hard to believe, with your voice!”

“It’s the truth. It took a long time before I realised this was- okay for me to do.” That probably wasn’t the best way she could have phrased it, but it would have to do. The host didn’t seem to mind, continuing ahead to give context about her previous concerts. Her past albums, her best-selling songs. They were moving on.

“You’ve just released your new single which is reportedly entirely written by you. Is that true?”

“I wrote the lyrics, yes. I can’t take any credit for the music or the mixing of course. Those were all done by my wonderful producers and team.”

“But still, amazing that you wrote the whole thing! Have you ever written songs before?”

“No, this was my first time. I was a little nervous about the release, so I’m very pleased the reception has been so warm so far. I definitely still have a lot to learn about the art of songwriting!”

“No, no, it’s really incredible. Singing, dancing, performing, and now writing. It feels like your list of talents just never seem to end.”

“Well,” Haruka said. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I don’t want to do it.”

Haruka could feel the stares of her classmates as she faced her teacher, unwavering as she looked into his eyes. Even Minori’s gasp didn’t dissuade her, though it did hurt to be reminded she was still there, still watching.

“You can’t back out now,” the teacher said, frowning at her. “Everyone is relying on you. It would be troublesome to your classmates. Besides, aren’t you appreciative to have been given this opportunity? You should be grateful.”

“But-”

“Haruka!” Minori grabbed her arm, pulling her away and away from the crowds. The black curtain shifted behind them, as if as a storm was waiting for them behind and not half a dozen cameras and an auditorium full of people. “He’s right. Kind of, I mean! You can’t back out now, you have to do this! It’s your chance to shine!”

“It’s not fair,” Haruka muttered. She pulled back slightly, though not with enough force to break Minori’s grasp. “It should be you. You’re the one who worked so hard. I kept trying to say I didn’t want to- nobody would listen, and now…”

“They gave it to you because you deserve it! You worked hard too, you were always practising with me.”

“I was practising to help you, not to take it away from you-”

“Haruka.” Minori grabbed both of her shoulders, staring into her eyes in a way that left Haruka unable to speak. “You’re really really good at singing. The best in our class. Maybe even the best in our entire school! The teachers chose you because they thought you would be the best person to do it. And they’re right! You are.”

“But I…”

“And performing on a stage like this- with everyone watching...it’s fun!” Minori’s eyes shined, but differently to how they had before. “It’s really really fun. You get to go up there and sing from your heart and everyone will listen to you. You get to create a sound. Create music! All by yourself. Doesn’t that sound really special?”

“I don’t want to be all by myself,” Haruka protested.

“We can sing together lots of other times,” Minori said. “When we’re idols we’ll sing together every day! But this is your moment. You should make the most of it whilst you can.”

It was so slight, but Haruka was sure she could hear it, the waver in Minori’s voice. And then all she could feel was guilt. Minori had fought so hard for this position, gave everything she had to grab it, and yet here was Haruka threatening to throw it away. Her friend’s precious dream was sitting in the palm of her hand, and she was treating it like it was garbage.

“...I’m sorry,” Haruka said, lowering her head. “You’re right. I can’t let everyone down.”

“Remember,” Minori said, grinning at her. “Parfait! Love.”

Her teacher accepted her apology, and Haruka trailed up the steps of the stage with Minori behind her. The rest of her classmates took their places in their rows, near identical in their uniforms. Haruka never really spoke to any of them, but as she stood waiting for the performance to begin, someone bent down next to her, keeping their voice low.

“You really should stop hanging around her,” they whispered, and Haruka looked around.

“What?”

The curtains began to open, forcing Haruka to look forwards again. All her thoughts stopped when she saw the crowds, the cameras pointed in her direction, the look of anticipation in everyone’s eyes. This didn’t make any sense. She didn’t know what she was singing about. Her voice trembled as she started her first note. It wasn’t like Minori said...she didn’t know how to feel the way she was supposed to...she was just…

Haruka glanced to the side, then grabbed onto Minori’s hand, squeezing tightly. There was no way the audience could see, but it was grounding, a reminder of where she was and what she was doing. It didn’t matter if she couldn’t think right now, so long as she could feel that hand in hers, the warmth as she squeezed back. Haruka’s voice levelled out, growing in strength. No, she did know how to do this. She did know what was singing about.

“Compared to your other songs, your new single has a slightly different tone about it,” the host said, and Haruka nodded. “Would you care to talk about that a little?”

“One of the great things about being an idol is that I get to sing about a range of topics,” she started. “A lot of the songs I’ve released previously have been quite upbeat, songs that are good to dance to with uplifting lyrics. I suppose for this single, I wanted to bring it down slightly and give listeners something they can enjoy even when they’re not in the mood for dancing.”

The host nodded. “Your vocals really shine on this new track. It seems like having your own lyrics to sing to made you connect more with the song. Is that true?”

“I really love every song I’ve released, but it would be a lie to say that this one doesn’t have a special place in my heart. From the first draft to the final release, it’s been a great chance for me to connect to a more personal side of myself.”

“Absolutely. Was it difficult, showing a more vulnerable side to your fans?”

“At first,” Haruka said. “I was worried they may not like the new approach, so I’m very glad to have been shown such kindness and understanding.”

The music stopped, then started. Haruka watched from beside the bed as Minori span, then jumped just a moment too soon. It looked fine and it looked cute, but once again the rewind button was pushed. Haruka had long lost count how many times the song had been reset.

“I don’t know why I keep doing it wrong!” Minori huffed, staring at the picture on the TV. “I know it’s meant to be on the beat but when I spin I feel like I’m off rhythm!”

“This one is hard,” Haruka said. “There’s a lot of difficult steps all in succession. It’s okay if you don’t get it first try.”

“But this isn’t my first try…” The dismay on Minori’s face struck something in Haruka, and she stood up, dusting off her skirt.

“Let me see if I can help you,” she offered. “It’s just the bit with the jump that’s giving you trouble, right?”

“You’re going to dance, Haruka?” Minori gasped, grinning as she took a step back. “I’m excited! It feels like it’s been a while since I got to watch you, and you always look so pretty no matter what dance it is!”

“It’s just to help you…” Haruka tried not to look too flustered as she reset the music back once more, taking a breath before attempting the copy the moves in the video. Her own dancing was boring, too mechanical and stiff compared to the supernova that was Minori. For Minori, the dance was a love letter to the music, a passionate display that invited joy in all those watching. For Haruka, it was a spin, and a jump.

“You- did it perfectly,” Minori said, then smiled. “I knew you would.”

“It wasn’t that good,” Haruka said, because how could it be when Minori’s smile barely even looked happy. “You can do it much better than I can.”

“No way…” But Minori stepped back to the middle of the room, frowning in determination as she prepared herself again. It was always a look that calmed Haruka, that gave her hope. Always trying again, always giving it another go. Minori took a step to turn, then fell.

“Ah, Minori-!” Haruka knelt by her side in an instant, though Minori was already sitting up, scooting away from the carpet and huddling up next to the bed. It seemed strange, somehow, because usually she would jump back to her feet after a couple ‘ow’s. “Are you okay?”

“You’re definitely better than me,” Minori said, then laughed a little.

“It’s just because the carpet is slippery,” Haruka explained quickly. “It’s okay. You can try again. I’m sure you’ll get it this time!”

But Minori was already shaking her head. “It’s okay, Haruka! I think I’ll give up.”

“Give...up…?” Those weren’t words Minori ever said. She wasn’t- supposed to say those words. “Why…?”

“It’s just kind of embarrassing, right?” Minori laughed sheepishly. “It’s not like I’m actually any good at dancing. I’ve been doing it for this long but I’m still falling over and doing the moves wrong all the time...that’s kind of stupid, right?”

“No,” Haruka said. “Nobody is perfect on the first try.”

“You are,” Minori said. “You’re always perfect, Haruka.”

“That was just- a fluke. If I did it again I’m sure I would make a mistake.”

“It’s okay, Haruka.” She smiled. “You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not...lying.” Why did this feel so wrong? What had changed? Couldn’t they- go back? It wasn’t meant to be like this. “Let’s try it again, together, okay? You did the bit at the start really well, so maybe you can teach me that-?”

Haruka reached out a hand to place on Minori’s shoulder, but as soon as her palm connected with her shirt, Minori flinched back, jumping as if something had shocked her. There was a very brief flash of pain across her face, less than a second, but Haruka was already stuck in place, suddenly too scared to move.

“Minori?”

“I guess I must’ve hurt myself when I fell before,” she said, too easily. Almost as if sensing Haruka’s gaze move towards the rest of her body, Minori shifted, tucking the exposed parts of her legs beneath her. “It’s okay! You can just dance without me.”

But I don’t want to, Haruka thought. She thought about reaching for Minori’s other side, to dare attempt a hug to try and find out what was actually happening to her friend, but then there was a knock at the door. Haruka’s mother wanted her to come home. There was something she wanted to discuss.

“You talk about friendship a lot in your song.” The conversation continued, cameras still rolling. “Was this based on a particular friend of yours from childhood? Or perhaps a friend made in your idol career?”

“I’ve made a lot of wonderful friends in the past ten years,” Haruka said, smiling fondly. “Of course, I drew inspiration from a lot of places during the writing process. But yes, I used memories of my middle school days to help with the bulk of the song.”

“Really? I would love to see a middle school aged Haruka. Were you so cool and collected even back then? I can’t picture that!”

“No, no. I think I was very much a normal middle schooler.”

“It’s really a carefree time in one’s life. You must have lots of fun memories about spending time with friends, I can imagine.”

“Yes." They would probably cut this part for time. “Every day was fun.”

It was still early, but Haruka had given up on sleep after a restless night and set off for school nearly thirty minutes before usual. Normally, she would always join with Minori for the walk to campus, but today she found herself desperate for the solitude. A moment to be alone, to have quiet. To pretend that the world wasn’t turning anymore.

The safety of silence that cloaked her was forcefully ripped off as she approached the main doors, a few of her classmates lingering by the entrance. 

“Where did you get that keychain?” one of them called out to her as she attempted to enter. Haruka hesitated before she answered. She didn’t like their tone.

“A friend gave it to me,” she said.

“From Minori, right? She has the same one on her bag.”

“Yes,” she said carefully. “From Minori.”

“You know clover is a weed, don’t you?”

“Okay,” she said, gripping her bag protectively. “I don’t care what it is.”

“If she’s bothering you, you should just tell the teacher,” another one said. “He can probably move her to another class.”

Haruka swallowed. “She’s not bothering me.”

“She’s so creepy! Did you see at the concert when she was grabbing at your hand? Seriously, she needs to learn boundaries.”

“That’s not what happened.” Hadn’t they seen it was Haruka who took Minori’s hand first? And, even if it hadn’t been- what was so wrong with them holding hands?

“I think she’s in love with you or something,” someone said, and they all laughed. Haruka flushed, clenching her fists.

“We’re- friends.”

“You don’t have to stick up for her,” the classmate said. “We can see what she’s like.”

“Yeah, don’t let a weirdo like that drag you down. You could do so much better. If you want, you can sit with us at lunch!”

“And she tried so hard for the audition, like, did she really think she had a chance? Seriously, that’s so embarrassing…”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Haruka said firmly, keeping her head up as she tried to pass. 

“Is it true you got scouted by some talent guy after the TV performance?” one of them called out to her, and Haruka stopped again. 

“Who- told you that?”

“Teacher mentioned it yesterday. It’s really true?”

“No,” Haruka said. This time, she didn’t let them stop her on her way. The empty rooms of the school creaked around her as she climbed the stairs, seeking the isolation of her desk. She pulled the door open and stood still. There was a small bunch of flowers on Minori’s desk.

Terrible, awful people, Haruka thought as she grabbed them and shoved them into the trash can, making sure they were buried completely at the bottom. What a horrible joke. It was lucky she had arrived early today, but- if people were already doing things like this, what else had they been doing? Surely nothing. Minori would have told her. Of course she would have told her.

She certainly seemed fine when they met later that day. Talking about their homework, the latest episode from last night, the cat that had tried to swipe her on the way to school. Haruka searched her eyes, and even though she couldn’t find their usual shine, that didn’t mean things weren’t okay. She was probably just- tired. Haruka was, too.

“Have you still not given them an answer yet?” Minori asked in her a hushed voice once they were outside against the wall, her shoes sinking in the overgrown summer grass. She had her socks pulled up high.

“I gave them an answer. I said no.”

“But Haruka!” She was still trying to keep quiet despite her disbelief. “Don’t you at least want to give it a try? It’s not like you have to sign anything yet. You could just do one performance and see how it is-”

“I already know how it is. I don’t want to do it.”

“Why not? You could be really good!”

“I didn’t even want to do the choir thing. I’m definitely not doing this.”

“Are you nervous? Because if you’re nervous I could come with you, I could be there in the crowd-”

“I don’t want you to be in the crowd!” Haruka snapped, then shrunk back when she saw Minori’s expression. “I’m sorry, I just- it’s all so- unfair.”

Minori was quiet for a moment, and Haruka was just about to attempt a better apology when her friend spoke up again.

“...Is it because of me?”

“What?”

“That you don’t want to do it,” Minori said, then gave a small, sad smile. “Are you trying not to hurt my feelings?”

“I…”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” she said, and now Haruka was searching more desperately for the light in her eyes. It had to still be there, there was no way it could have gone- “I know that I won’t ever really be on the same level as you. But I’m happy just watching you be happy. Don’t you know that?”

“But I’m not…” Haruka let herself trail off. The green glimmer of the sun on Minori’s keychain caught her attention, determined in its place on her backpack. “Minori, has...has anything...happened recently?”

“Happened?”

“Like, um.” There was no way to say it. “Anything bad?”

“I already told you about the cat this morning, he really almost tore through my socks…”

“No, I mean-” Haruka shook her head. “It’s okay. Never mind. I’m sorry I’ve been troubling you with all my problems lately.”

“You’re not troubling me!” Minori scrambled up, then wrapped her into a hug again. What was Haruka thinking? Of course Minori was fine. Nothing got her down. It was basically impossible for her to be sad or defeated. “You’re never troubling me, Haruka! I really mean it, so long as good things are happening to you, then I feel super super okay.”

“You matter too,” Haruka muttered into her shoulder. Minori just laughed.

“But you went to middle school here in this city, correct?”

“Yes, I did. I even took a walk around my own neighbour to help stir up my old memories. Though, it has changed a lot since I was young!”

“Yeah, nothing ever stays the same for long around here! I still get lost sometimes when all the roads change and there’s suddenly a store where there wasn’t before…”

Haruka covered her mouth as she smiled. “It can be quite a nuisance.”

“Is your friend still here in the city too?”

“Yes,” Haruka said. “She is.”

The cicadas were in full force by the time Haruka was able to leave the classroom, the words of her teacher still ringing in her ears. How she could be an asset to the school, open up her future, find a career path before most had even finished school. Nobody could seem to accept no as an answer. It didn’t matter, Haruka thought as she grabbed her shoes from the entryway. She wasn’t going to go to the performance and she wasn’t going to meet with any talent scouts, so there was nothing they could do to force her. Her mind was made up. She wasn’t doing anything, not without Minori.

The streets shined as Haruka walked along in the emptiness, the air heavy in a way that made it hard to breathe. Nobody wanted to be out in the summer heat, the sun violent and strong. She raised her umbrella for its cloak of shade, listening to the hazy silence. Bugs crying, traffic lights ringing, bones cracking. Haruka stopped.

“You’re seriously nothing, you know that? You should just go die.”

Voices were coming from a nearby alleyway. Haruka changed course, slowly edging her way up.

“You’re so embarrassing! You think you’re actually worth something? Don’t make me laugh.”

Dull thuds. A sharp slap.

“There’s no way you’re ever going to become an idol. You’re way too ugly.”

“You can’t even sing.”

“And you’re super gross! We’ve seen the way you look at Haruka. What are you, some kind of pervert?”

Haruka picked up pace, searching for the source of the voices, the laboured breathing. She stumbled around the corner just in time to see the swing of a leg made contact with the huddled shape on the ground.

“You’re just holding Haruka back, you know? She deserves better than you. You’re ruining all her chances at happiness.”

“I-I’m sorry…” the figure mumbled, voice thick, and Haruka froze.

“Do you seriously think Haruka wants to be friends with you? She just keeps you around because she feels sorry for you. Of course she doesn’t like you. It’s your fault her future is ruined-”

“Minori!” Haruka ran forwards, dropping her umbrella behind her as she tried to push through the girls crowding her. “What are you doing? Stop it!”

“Haruka, we already told you, you don’t have to pretend to be kind to someone like this-” one of the girls started, and Haruka clenched her fist to stop herself from slapping her. 

“I’m not pretending! What’s wrong with you?” There was blood on their shins. Blood on the floor. Haruka tried again. “Minori!”

“I’m sorry,” Minori repeated, trembling as if she were freezing despite the heat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m…”

Before Haruka could act, Minori sprung up, taking only a second to meet Haruka’s stare with broken wild eyes, before she sprinted away out of the alley, limping as she ran.

“Creep!” one of the girls called after her. Haruka grit her teeth.

“You’re awful,” she spat, before she turned to run after Minori. 

Despite her friend’s injuries, it took Haruka several streets before she could catch up, stopping on a road near the beach that was separated from the city by only a single track crossing. It was usually pretty, scenic especially in the summer, but right now Haruka wanted to be anywhere but here. 

“Minori,” Haruka gasped, struggling to catch her breath. “Let’s go home.”

She took a step forward, but Minori took one back, as if repelled by her presence. Her head was low, hair hanging over her face with the clips broken. The red lights flashed behind her.

“What should I do? I don’t know what to do.” She sounded so distant. “I’m ruining everything, aren’t I? I’m ruining everything, Haruka.”

“No, you’re-”

“You said no because of me.” It was frightening to hear the tears in her voice, a sound that never should have existed. Minori didn’t cry, not like this. She got weepy faced over dogs in movies and songs with sad lyrics. Never despair like this. Never anguish. “It’s true. All I’m doing is holding you back.”

“I don’t care about that stuff,” Haruka said firmly. “It doesn’t matter to me. You matter to me, Minori, okay? You matter to me.”

“All I’m doing- I’m dragging you down. You could be happy without me.”

“No, I couldn’t. You can’t believe what those girls said, it’s not true-”

“But they’re right.” Her voice was so thin, Haruka could hardly hear her. “I want to- always be by your side. I want to always be with you. But if I’m here, then you can’t...you’ll never be able to…”

“I don’t understand,” Haruka said. She wished she could reach out, pull Minori towards her, but would she flinch again? Would she take another step away? “Please, Minori, let’s just go back. You need medical attention-”

“I’m the reason,” Minori wept. The crossing started to close. “It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” Haruka pleaded. “Minori, it’s dangerous. Let’s go home. I want to go home.”

Minori looked behind her, then turned back to Haruka. Her smile was small, and sad. There was no shine. Nothing at all. Why hadn’t Haruka been sure earlier? It was so obvious, all this time, her friend had been hurting. Since they called Haruka’s name out after the auditions. Since the concert, since the phone call. It had always been there, and Haruka had done nothing to stop it. 

“We’re friends, right?”

“Minori-”

“I really want you to be happy, Haruka,” Minori said, and took a step back.

“So, would you say your friend was the inspiration for this song?”

Haruka closed her eyes. “She’s my inspiration for everything.”

Ten tones before the ringing faded. The cicadas kept singing. When Haruka’s vision finally came back into focus, there was nobody in front of her. A green keychain laid smashed on the floor.

“It must be lovely to have a close friend like that.”

“Yes,” Haruka said. “It is.”

They had barely waited. Or at least, it felt like that. Haruka wasn’t sure how long it had actually taken, torn in a strange distortion where every day felt like weeks and every hour felt like minutes. Still, she was sure she hadn’t been back at school for that long when the next invitation was handed to her. 

Another chance to sing. Another opportunity. Everyone was excited for her. Like it was the sunshine in the midst of a storm, instead of another wave crashing overhead. Haruka, of course, said no.

“I think it’s a great offer,” her teacher said to her, leaning over her desk. “You would be representing the school. It could really help to take your mind off everything.”

"You’d be crazy to say no again,” her classmates told her, cornering her in the yard. “Nobody gets asked twice for this kind of thing.”

“You should at least consider it,” her mother said, sitting on her bed. “Think about it. You could become a famous singer, an idol. Isn’t that what Minori would have wanted?”

Some time after it had happened, they had let Haruka come to the house to help sort through the things in her room. See if there was anything she wanted to keep. Haruka hadn’t wanted to go, hadn’t wanted to walk past the shrine they had already set up near the door, but she couldn’t stand the thought of pieces of Minori being tossed away and thrown out without her at least getting to see them first. It felt so cruel. Unnecessary. What did they need to clean out the room for? Why couldn’t they just leave it this way forever? It wasn’t like they were ever going to use this place again.

Still, Haruka came to help. She looked through her clothes, her books, her posters. On the top of her desk, next to a red lamp, was Minori’s lyric book. Some were unfinished, some were old. Lots of them had little doodles scattered around the page, tiny dogs and hearts and stars. At the top of one page was a message in curly handwriting.

Haruka helped me write this one!!!! One day we’re going to be idols together!
I love you so so so so much always always always <33333 WE ARE FRIENDS FOREVER!!!

“Okay,” Haruka said to them. “I’ll sing. But I want to choose the song.”

Alone on the stage with the eyes of hundreds staring up at her, Haruka had to hold back the urge to scream. How could they all just be here, watching a stupid performance by a school girl in a short skirt, when not even months ago something so terrible had happened. How could she sing like everything was okay when nothing was further from the truth? It didn’t make sense. It could never make sense.

But she closed her eyes, and imagined Minori there with her. A hand in hers. A squeeze. A hug. Love. So much love. This had been her dream, and now she would never have it. She couldn’t even try. It was just Haruka, now. Singing for her. Possessed by her.

When the audience applauded, Haruka knew it was really for Minori. Her song, her voice, her feelings. It was what she wanted. It was what she wanted more than anything.

“I really liked your song,” a girl said to her at school the next day, a shadow over her desk. “Your writing is really beautiful.”

“What?” Haruka frowned. “I didn’t write it. Minori wrote it.”

“Oh,” the girl said, then shrugged. “Well, I heard you wrote it. That’s what it said on the TV.”

“I didn’t,” Haruka said. “I already told them that. It’s not my song.”

An offer came in from a talent agency. They wanted to sign her to a contract. 

“You’re so talented, Haruka!” another classmate said to her. “Your voice is so cool. I bet you get super famous.”

“Maybe I should get your autograph now before you become a serious celebrity!”

“Why didn’t you tell us you wrote your own songs? That’s so cool!”

They were crowding her. “I didn’t write it.”

“Can you give me vocal lessons? I wanna sing like you do!”

“Where did you get the idea from to make a song like that?”

“Are you gonna perform next month at the school fair? Maybe you can write another song!”

“It’s not my song!” Haruka stood up from her desk, casting the group into silence. “Why aren’t you listening to me? I keep telling you, I didn’t write it!”

“Well, even if you didn’t, you sang it better than anyone else could have.”

“It’s Minori’s song,” Haruka said, voice breaking. “Minori wrote it. I sang it for her.”

“Minori…?”

“Yes, Minori! Hanasato Minori! She sat there!” Haruka threw a hand in the direction of Minori’s desk, cold and empty. “She sat there the whole time!”

“Oh, Minori…Isn’t she the one who...you know.” Her classmates looked away like she had brought up something embarrassing, something taboo. 

“Why…?” Haruka said, trembling as she held back the tears. “Why do none of you care? How can you have forgotten so quickly? She sat there, she sat there this whole time and none of you ever cared about her, you never paid attention to her, and now she’s…”

“Sorry, Haruka,” one of them said, patting her shoulder.

“Yeah, we’re sorry,” another said. “You’re really nice, Haruka. You care about everyone so much.”

And the next day, when she arrived at school, as if in a cruel mockery of that morning so many months ago, there was a vase of flowers placed on Minori’s desk. Haruka stood by the door and stared, watched by a few stray classmates, and then began to shake. So many weeks with nothing. So many weeks without a single word. 

The vase shattered violently as Haruka shoved it off the desk, and then she knelt down by the shards, and began to cry. Surrounded by the flowers, the water, the broken pieces. She held her head in her hands and cried like she was choking, drowning from her own tears. It wasn’t fair. It was so unfair. So, so unfair. It didn’t make sense, and it would never make sense. 

“It’s so awful,” someone said from somewhere in the class. “Look how upset she is. Who could do something so selfish?”

They swept the broken memorial away.

“Are you still friends with that girl now?” the host asked, and Haruka leaned back slightly in the chair.

“Yes, she’s still my closest friend,” Haruka replied. “Every concert and every rehearsal I go to – she’s always there with me. She’s always been my biggest fan. I love her so much. I couldn’t have done it without her.”

It was too much to say, too open and honest, but the host smiled and nodded at her anyway, moving onto the closing set of questions. Telling the audience to stream her latest single, and to look forward to her next concert coming later that year. 

They shook hands and Haruka made her way from the office, waving goodbye to the women still perched at the desk. The sky had darkened considerably from when Haruka had first entered, the grey clouds above warning of the storm to come. There was a message from her manager on her phone; her driver was running late, so it may be best for her to get a cab to avoid the oncoming rain. Haruka assured them it was no problem, and that she would make her own way home. She had chosen a day with bad weather on purpose, after all. Cicadas didn’t cry in the rain.

The station wasn’t crowded, and Haruka had the luck to avoid any onlookers on the train, taking a seat by the door and watching the evening roll on. Nobody else got off at her stop, and she walked on the road alongside the sidewalk, listening to the beach. She stopped at the green light, and knelt down by the ribbon tied to the posts. It blew freely in the wind, vibrant and strong.

There was no point explaining it to the interviewer, to her fans, or her old therapist. They would never understand the way she never stood alone on that stage, that the person everyone cheered and cried out to wasn’t Haruka at all. It was her body, but nothing else. The energy, the voice, the smile- it was Minori. It could only be Minori. No part of Haruka could shine in the same way she did. Her spirit was nowhere as bright.

Of course, Haruka had still spent millions of seconds dreaming about the world where things turned out differently. It was so well rehearsed in her head, she could call upon it without a moment’s thought. Haruka would have accepted the offer eventually, and Minori would be below her in the crowd. But Haruka wouldn’t let her stay that way. She would pull her up onto the stage, push her into the spotlight and show everyone what they had been so fervently missing. They would sing as one, and stay together even after. Nobody else would bother them because it wouldn’t matter anymore. Haruka would tell Minori she loved her so she wouldn’t have to drown alone. 

Sometimes, it hurt to think about that alternate reality and all its colourful lights. Looking away made the darkness of her own life so much more pronounced. The tightness in her chest, the emptiness in her lyrics, the loneliness of her bed. On those days, Haruka couldn’t move, held down by weights that threatened to crush every bone in her body. But sometimes, it was nice to stare into the brightness and imagine its warmth. A beautiful memory of something that had never happened. It wasn’t so far away, even if she couldn’t reach it.

If only Minori had waited a little longer. Just one day. They could have talked about it. They could have gone home and cried, together. Haruka never blamed her for the impulsivity, though. A lifetime of reaching out for opportunities and always just missing. For once, Minori saw the chance that was handed to her, and she took it. It was just bad timing. Just bad luck.

Only a few of the petals had started to wilt, but Haruka took the flower anyway, laying another in its place. It seemed happy in the darkness, anticipating the fresh rain. 

Maybe the new song wouldn’t sell. Maybe speaking to Minori instead of with her was too much for her fans to understand. That was okay. They’d sing together next time. Their hands would be intertwined on the upcoming stage, and every one that passed after that. She knew Minori could hear her. She knew she would never really be alone.

Haruka stood back up, closing her eyes and smiling. The wind was starting to blow.

“Of course, you’re my friend,” she said, and the lights flashed on.