Archive of Our Own ^beta

No matter how deadset An is on surpassing RAD WEEKEND, or how confident she tries to be, trying to put on the best performance is a lot more difficult than it sounds.

You have your own unique sound, An, Ken tells her when she first declares her dream of surpassing what her father accomplished, and that’s something you should be proud of.

And Ken is right — An is proud of knowing where her strengths lie, and what kind of sound only she is capable of creating, but being aware of her own skill also means she’s conscious of what her voice lacks. Kohane can effortlessly reach high notes while maintaining the daintiness of her voice, Touya’s experience in classical music has left him with the uncanny ability to maintain a rhythm for everyone, and Akito has an intensity that’s powerful yet flexible enough to perfectly meld with the rest of the group. They have everything she doesn’t have, but it’s a lot easier to acknowledge their capability and drive than to compare herself to what they can do. An has always been dealing with her inadequacy this way, even before she met Kohane, and even before Akito finally found someone he could call his partner.

That was a really good performance, An would’ve told Akito and Touya the first time BAD DOGS and Vivids performed in the same event together, only if she wasn’t a lot more preoccupied with comforting Kohane while seething at Akito (and partly Touya) for sabotaging the sound system. It couldn’t be helped that Kohane reacted the way she did, although a small part of An wishes that the both of them continued singing regardless of equipment malfunction; as long as there is a crowd, their performance could always turn out successful.

“Is that really what happened?” Ken asks after An finishes ranting about the events that unfolded that night. Ken regards her with the gaze of someone with years of life experience under his belt, and something about it tells her there’s more to the picture than meets the eye. “Akito can be rough around the edges, but he’s a good kid. You probably know him better than I do, but I’m pretty sure that kid’s too passionate to even think of resorting to dirty tactics, even to those he considers rivals.”

Akito didn’t turn out to be the person An thought he would be; she is fairly certain that someone as two-faced as Akito is capable of sabotage. But this seems to be one of those times when An trusts her father’s judgement more than she trusts herself, so with her father’s words ringing in her mind, she confronts Akito the next day, just after the last school bell rings. Just before she could talk to Akito, though, she catches sight of him and Touya standing by the hallway of Class 1-C.

“Akito, are you really sure about this?” An overhears Touya. An doesn’t take a step closer. She is careful to maintain a polite distance. “They’ll never know it wasn’t you who did it. You probably should tell them before it’s too late.”

“Do you seriously think that they’ll believe me now if I admitted it wasn’t me who cut the power?” Akito punctuates his sentence with a tsk. “You don’t have to bring it up again, Touya. Let them think I was at fault, it’s better this way. I doubt the real culprit is willing to take the blame anyway, so what’s the point of telling the truth—”

“Wait,” Touya cuts Akito off before An could make sense of their conversation. “We can talk about this later.” As if already noticing her presence, Touya shifts his gaze to An and offers her a small smile. The tense moment slowly dissipates, but An can still feel the pressure from earlier seep deeply into her. “Hello, Shiraishi. Is there anything we could help you with?”

Akito turns his head at the mention of her name, just slightly, and An can sense his eyes burning. “Were you eavesdropping?”

His words are cold. His knuckles are white.

“No,” An lies, tone carefully — painstakingly — casual. She decides right at that moment to put off the conversation with Akito for another day. She feels like she has heard too much from their conversation, and she’d rather not stick around longer than she should. “I was just about to leave when I saw the both of you,” she adds, offering the information like an excuse.

As she turns around to leave, a hand grabs her wrist and pulls her back.

“Really?” Akito asks, his grip tightening.

“Really,” An replies in the same, steady tone.

Akito doesn’t budge, but the lines around his eyes tighten with suspicion. A long, long silence follows after that; when Akito finally speaks up, An finds herself holding her breath. “Fine. If you say so.”

And just like that, Akito lets go of her wrist as quickly as he grabbed her.

They exchange a few more words before An bids them goodbye, leaving Akito and Touya to continue their conversation from earlier. When she returns to WEEKEND GARAGE for her part-time job, it suddenly occurs to her that her father is right about Akito. She wonders whether Akito is so selfless that he would take the blame for the sake of the real culprit’s dignity, or if he’s just a compulsive liar.

—

“You’re asking me if I am willing to take the blame for something that’s not my fault?” Mizuki tilts their head. “I mean, it depends on the situation, but I can’t really give you an answer if you don’t give me enough context.”

“There’s no context, it’s just…” An pauses to think of what to say next, which she covers up by checking out the display of ribbon hair ties hanging by the shelf. “Hypothetically speaking.”

Between joint practices with Kohane and mulling over the fact that the power outage in RED wasn’t Akito’s fault, An finds herself in a small accessory shop near the outskirts of Kamiyama with Mizuki after school. It’s too far from the city to be crowded, but not secluded enough to be completely free of the bustle during peak hours.

“That doesn’t exactly make your question any easier to answer,” Mizuki says. “Why are you even asking me this?”

“I’ve just been thinking about stuff.”

Mizuki’s eyes round with mock surprise. “You? Thinking?”

“Hey, it’s a serious question!”

Mizuki may not be aware of it, but the fact that they often make remarks like, You actually think?, in the middle of conversation is why they’re ranked regrettably lower than they should be in An’s mental list of reliable conversation partners. 

“I was just kidding!” Mizuki says, sounding the least bit apologetic. Mizuki turns to the shelf and scours for an assortment of ribbons. “Well, to answer your question, I’d rather be completely blameless, so I think it’s better to not get yourself involved in a situation you’re not supposed to be in. And it's easy to not get involved when you maintain your distance and stay away from trouble.”

The few beats of silence that follow are deafening; it feels awkward and incomplete, as if there’s a lot left unsaid.

“Well!” Mizuki starts, right before the silence turns too oppressive. “Hypothetically speaking.”

Discreetly, An glances at Mizuki. It’s rare enough that Mizuki attends class for the entire day, and even rarer that the both of them hang out after school. An often finds herself wondering whenever she sees Mizuki’s empty seat in the classroom — she thinks of what occupies Mizuki’s time the most, if it’s their part-time job, or shopping, or maybe something else entirely that she isn’t aware of.

For a moment, An wonders what would’ve happened if she asked that to Mizuki, but the moment is already long gone, and An knows she isn’t imagining the walls she heard behind Mizuki’s words about maintaining your distance. An has no way of figuring out if that was directed to her but it still stings; it hits too close to her memories of having no one she could entrust her dreams with for as long as she could remember. The words of other musicians burn in her mind whenever she turns down their offer to team up with them: Trying to surpass RAD WEEKEND? I get you’re his daughter, but that’s just unrealistic. After being told that countless times, she somehow still manages to stay true to her dream, although she may or may not have unconsciously kept those who didn’t believe in her at an arm’s length.

The idea of prodding into Mizuki’s life further is daunting when she is unsure of where the line is drawn, so An decides not to intrude just yet.

“Yup, hypothetically speaking,” An repeats. “Thanks, Mizuki.”

For some reason, the smile Mizuki shows is a little more genuine than usual. “Now it’s my turn to ask you!” Mizuki holds up two ribbons. “Which one looks better on me?”

—

The second time An and Kohane perform in a live house, An fully expects it to go smoothly. Fair and square, An remembers telling Akito and Touya after getting invited to Mossy Stone, even though she already knew they aren’t at fault. She can’t let Akito, Touya, or even Kohane learn that she overheard their conversation the other day by the hallway of Class 1-C — at least, not yet.

What An doesn’t expect, though, is for Koutarou to run after them at the backstage, just right before their performance.

“Hey, uh,” Koutarou starts, eyes darting to the audience uneasily, and she doesn’t miss the way his expression turns apprehensive under the red stage lights. “I assume you already know?”

An casts a glance at Kohane; even with the dim lighting, it’s easy to notice the bits of uncertainty in her eyes, too unused to the heavy atmosphere that’s threatening to swallow her whole being. An is supposed to be there for Kohane right now; this isn’t the right time to strike up a conversation with somebody else, but she isn’t the type to ignore someone, either, so she bites. “Know what exactly?”

Somehow, that knocks Koutarou off balance, finally meeting her in the eye for the first time that night with a confused look. “Wait… did Akito not tell you that I—”

His sentence gets cut off by the loud cheers of the audience, signalling that An and Kohane are next. An’s mouth twists into what she hopes to be an apologetic smile as she places a reassuring hand on Kohane’s back. “Sorry, but that’s our cue. Can we save this conversation for later?”

“Oh… okay.” Koutarou deflates, and he almost looks relieved. “Break a leg.”

An isn’t sure if she’s reading too much into things, or she senses a strange sense of guilt in his voice. She doesn’t dwell on it for too long, though. She pushes the thought into the backburner as she gets up on stage with Kohane, hand still on her back, looking straight into Kohane’s eyes. She whispers with renewed determination, knowing that this would be different from last time. “Don’t worry, Kohane. I’m here for you.”

The subtle lines on Kohane’s face gradually smoothen, and An grins. They will be fine.

Somehow, she doesn’t see Koutarou after the performance; Touya tells her that Koutarou had something important to attend to, and eventually the conversation leads to Akito apologising for getting in their way back in RED.

Hours after the event ended, chest still light from the afterglow of a successful performance, she looks back to her unfinished conversation with Koutarou, wondering what’s so important that Koutarou would run after them in the middle of an event just to tell her.

She remembers Koutarou mentioning Akito, and Akito’s apology that comes after it, then it hits her.

“Oh,” she mumbles after a while, finally connecting the dots. “So that’s what happened.”

—

Strangely enough, Akito and Touya stopped dropping by WEEKEND GARAGE as much as they used to. An doesn’t see them much in school, either, too preoccupied with make-up tests and basketball club to pay attention to other classes. The next time she actually sees Akito is a week later, all alone in the lineup for an event.

“Touya was never a real partner,” Akito says before he walks away. His voice doesn’t have his usual sharpness and he is quiet and he is glum. He is not supposed to look glum. He always holds his head high even before a performance, self-assured, confident. He has none of the usual spark in his eyes. Now he is just plain and bare and pensive.

The thought of the same thing happening between her and Kohane briefly crosses her mind; the same idea clearly occurs to Kohane, too, from the way her gaze flickers to Akito’s back.

“Are they fighting after all?” Kohane mumbles, voice soft against the loud noise in the live house, but An can hear the concern in her voice all too clearly.

An hastily shakes away the thought. She can’t see herself and Kohane breaking out into a fight; in the off-chance that they ever do, she doubts it would be as bad as Akito’s and Touya’s.

“Probably,” An replies, “but it’s not something you should be worrying so much about.”

Later after the event, a few minutes past midnight, An makes a trip to the nearby conbini to get some snacks. An grabs a bottle of black tea, a tub of rum raisin ice cream for herself, and a tub of the limited edition cheesecake ice cream that Mizuki has been texting her about. As she closes the fridge, she notices Akito suddenly right beside her. She almost jumps.

“You,” Akito breathes out, staring holes at the limited edition ice cream tub in her hands. “You took the last one.”

An looks back to the now empty shelf labelled Summer Cheesecake Berry Explosion! in bold sans-serif font. She didn’t even realise the tub in her hands was the last one until he pointed it out. “I guess I did.”

Akito’s face shifts into the different stages of grief so quickly it’s almost comical. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Akito pauses, pondering a thought. “I get you two tubs of ice cream for the one you’re holding. Deal?”

“What? No,” An protests. “I’ve been wanting to get this for a while now.”

“Three tubs, then?”

“I just told you no.”

He just stares, completely dumbfounded. “What about five?”

“Akito.”

“Fuck. Okay.” Akito sighs in frustration, the furrow between his eyebrows digging deeper and deeper by the second to the point that he just looks pitiful. For a moment, she feels a bit bad for him that she almost forgets he’s the same person who used to question her choice of partner.

An glances over him again and idly entertains the thought of sharing; An isn’t even as desperate for the ice cream as he is. Maybe Akito would be more willing to tell her what happened between him and Touya. How would Akito feel about her knowing it wasn’t him who sabotaged the sound system? What’s done is done, should it really matter anymore?

“I’m fine with splitting,” An declares, “but in exchange, you have to answer my question honestly.”

Akito visibly lights up, although he immediately becomes wary of her conditions. “What are you planning to ask me?”

“I’ll only tell you after we split the ice cream.”

There’s a few moments of silence as he contemplates.

“That’s fine by me,” Akito replies. “My place is closer. We can split the ice cream from there, and you can ask me whatever you want to ask me.”

A few minutes later and thousands of yen poorer, An stands behind Akito by the kitchen countertop in the Shinonome residence, peeking over his shoulder as he begins to split the ice cream in half. “Akito, don’t you dare get a bigger portion. I paid for this.”

“Christ, Shiraishi. Shut the fuck up for a second, will you? I’m trying to focus here.”

“Try harder.”

Akito clicks his tongue.

It takes them several more minutes of back-and-forth — Akito, that’s too small… wait, stop moving your hand! The other side’s now too big! You’re definitely doing this on purpose! and No, I’m not! I wouldn’t even take this long if you weren’t nagging right on my damn ear! — before Akito finally places his share on a plate. Padding through the kitchen floorboards, Akito grabs two spoons from a drawer and takes a seat on the dinner table to eat his share.

She blinks. “You’re eating it now? ”

“I have to,” he replies. “Ena might eat my share if I don’t.”

“Ena?”

“My sister.” Akito falls uncharacteristically quiet after that, and An decides not to prod further. She files away his sister as something to ask about later. He hands her the other spoon. “You eating?”

“Sure.”

They eat in silence for a little while. Akito grabs the remote and turns on the television in an attempt to ease the silence, lowering the volume down until the dialogue of the romcom movie currently playing is barely intelligible. He mutters something about not wanting to wake his parents up.

“So?” Akito starts, once the lack of conversation becomes too uncomfortable. “What did you want to ask?”

An casts a sideways glance at Akito; he isn’t looking at her, eyes glued on the television as he takes another scoop of his ice cream.

“What happened to you and Touya?”

He clams up.

“You suddenly say he’s not a real partner all along,” An continues. “You can’t just say that and not expect me and Kohane to wonder what’s going on.”

The silence closes in around them again, more intense and oppressive than earlier, and An wonders if her question is worth half a tub of a limited edition ice cream flavour — or if she should’ve never asked in the first place — until Akito, to her surprise, speaks up. “He called our music childish.”

“He— what.” An blinks. “Touya?” She tries to process what Akito just said. Tries to remember the way Touya cracks a small smile after every performance, the way Akito and Touya drop by WEEKEND GARAGE after hours of nonstop practice. “That Touya?”

“Yeah. Him,” Akito replies, his voice growing rough around the edges. Akito’s anger isn’t directed to her, that much she knows, but she still shrinks back to her seat under his glare, as if she’s the reason his mood is diving to the negatives. “He even told me to stop chasing for a small event that’s only popular in this town… what the hell? I don’t want to believe him, but he sounded so serious I don’t fucking know anymore.” Akito takes a deep, deep breath. When he speaks again, there’s an emotion in his voice that An can’t quite place her finger on. “Fuck. Guess I really never knew him as much as I thought I did.”

An lets his words sit for a moment, eyes fixed but unfocused on the horrible concoction of misunderstandings and lack of communication and slowburn in the romcom movie playing on his television. It’s easier than looking at Akito right now, especially when she isn’t sure what to tell him. It’s not that he is seeking a response to begin with; he is simply answering her question, without the intention of fishing for pity or sympathy, but she feels the need to say something because she shares the same dream as him. She should understand more than anybody else what it’s like to be told to aim higher than an event that is insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

Akito rests his head on his hand and leans on the table. An watches him, and idly wonders what would’ve happened if he teamed up with someone who is just as serious as him on surpassing RAD WEEKEND; a person like that is scarce, even in Vivid Street, that much she knows. If Akito didn’t find a partner so soon, would he even bother to ask her, amidst all the other musicians trying to get her to team up with them?

Probably not, An thinks to herself. Akito is the type to always look straight ahead, too focused on his goal to spare a glance around him. There’s no way he would consider teaming up with someone who is roughly just as skilled as him; his sights are aimed a lot higher than that.

An racks her own brain for words of comfort. But Akito’s answer only leads her to another question that’s been on her mind for a while, and it burns on her tongue.

“Akito, remember when the power got cut off in RED?” she says before she could think about it.

There is a long, long pause. “What about it?”

“The day after that, I actually wanted to talk to you about it, but I accidentally overheard your conversation with Touya instead.” An tries to think of what to say next, which she covers up by eating another mouthful of ice cream. “I know it wasn’t you who did it.”

Akito shoots her an openly irritated look, eyes wary yet daring, vulnerable . Somehow it’s the most genuine she’s ever seen him. “So you actually heard us. I fucking knew it.” Akito clicks his tongue. “Listen, don’t tell anyone about this. Especially that midget—”

“Kohane,” she corrects him.

“You know I’m not calling her that.”

“At least address her by her name,” An says, even though she knows he wouldn’t listen. “If you don’t want me to tell anyone, would you at least tell me who did it?”

Akito evaluates her for a moment.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t want to.”

Indignation spikes in her chest. “You don’t want to? Is that really it? Or do you just want to play the hero? Guess what, nobody is going to think you're being the good guy for covering up somebody else's—”

He immediately stiffens from his seat, and she notices a moment too late. Guilt floods in her chest.

“Akito, I didn’t mean to—”

“Get out.”

An blinks. “What?”

“I already answered your question, didn’t I? There’s no need to continue our conversation.” His spoon clatters to his plate. “Get. Out.”

Akito’s words are flat, and An leaves the Shinonome residence without another word. The rest of the walk home is spent wondering why Akito got so worked up over what she said when he could normally counter her just as easily.

It’s only after An arrives back home when it comes to her.

Akito was never obligated to be honest; his fight with Touya had nothing to do with An, but he still opened up to her. He humbled himself.

—

An doesn’t see Akito in WEEKEND GARAGE the next day. He continues to participate in events without Touya, all alone, attracting curious glances from all the other musicians. It’s painfully obvious that there’s something wrong; Akito has never performed alone for this long, and neither did Touya. Still, nobody says a word about it. Touya’s absence, or Akito’s downcast eyes underneath the blinding stage lights, is nobody’s business.

Word travels fast, even more so in WEEKEND GARAGE, and An just knows that her father has already figured out why Akito and Touya never visited for the past week. She expects him to ask her if she already knows what happened between them. Or maybe he would at least make an attempt to help them make up, like what he usually does for the other musicians in Vivid Street.

Two of their regulars stopped visiting without getting out much more than a goodbye, and somehow… her father is letting them be.

It’s probably a sign that she shouldn’t let it bother her, so she tries to convince herself that it’s none of her concern. She tries to pay no mind to the sight of Akito or Touya  in the school hallways. She tries to be relieved that there are two less customers she has to deal with, and she gets to have more practice time with Kohane. She tries to ignore the uncomfortable twist in her gut every time she watches Akito on the stage with none of the conviction he usually carries with him.

None of it works. And she’s forced to acknowledge that it does bother her the first time she brings it up to Haruka.

“You said they’re very close, right? I’m sure they’ll be alright if you give them enough time,” Haruka says, fixing her eyes on the crepes being served on their table. “Also, An, I have been cutting back on my sugar and calories for the past three weeks just for today. This better be good.”

“Haruka, my dear friend, how dare you doubt me,” An gasps with dramatic flair, pretending to hold back a disgusting sob as she wipes away a nonexistent tear. “This tastes good, just you see.”

It has been months since they last hung out — An can’t exactly blame Haruka’s lack of availability from her demanding workload when her own schedule isn’t as forgiving either. Their text messages are few and far in between, and even more scarce are the video calls that last all night until An sees the first rays of the sun peek into her curtains. While it’s nice to finally see Haruka offscreen for once, An generously doesn’t ask her why she left ASRUN; Haruka never told her the details, and An didn’t even know that Haruka retired from being an idol until Mizuki called her at three in the morning on a school day to cry over the news of her retirement.

“Also, about the person you just mentioned— oh, An, what is his name again?”

“Who, Touya?”

“No, the other one,” Haruka says, to which An answers Akito before Haruka continues, “I think he misunderstood what you wanted to tell him, but it’s also partly your fault for pushing his buttons. You probably should apologise to him if it bothers you this much.”

An doesn’t meet her in the eye as she stabs her fork to the poor crepe. An is painfully aware that she is bothered — she has been thinking about what happened between her and Akito the other night a lot more than she should, and she definitely does not need somebody else to remind her.

“I guess I will,” An replies halfheartedly.

“You better,” is all Haruka says before she takes a bite off her crepe, the corners of her mouth widening in sync with the cafe playlist switching to an upbeat song from a newly formed idol group. Haruka takes another bite and nods in approval. “This is good.”

“That’s what I literally just told you.”

“We should’ve ordered more.”

An takes a deep, deep breath. “Oh my god, not this again.”

“We should get two of each.”

“At least finish that crepe you’re eating right now before getting more!”

There’s an amused glint in Haruka’s eyes, and it takes An all her willpower not to kick Haruka in the shin under the table. Even after all these years, An could never understand why Haruka loves buying food in twos… not in the slightest. She’s pretty sure that Haruka’s salary has nothing to do with it (Haruka earns more in a month than how much An earns in a year, but that’s beside the point), and it definitely has nothing to do with how meticulous Haruka is on watching her weight.

If you’re really that careful on your carb intake, shouldn’t you be buying less ice cream? An would ask Haruka back then, on their way back from the basketball court by the neighbourhood. They both stand in front of an ice cream stall as the vendor, with his infinite patience, gets two of each flavour. An would never know if the vendor thought two of each flavour was such a ridiculous order coming from two middle schoolers, but she guesses he’s experienced far worse if he’s unfazed by things like this.

I prepared my weight for this day! And besides, isn’t buying everything the best way to get the full experience? Haruka replies, excitement radiating off her wide grin and sparkling eyes, only for the both of them to hand out a bunch of ice cream to other people minutes later just because they’re too full to finish even half of their order.

Haruka hasn’t really changed from back then, but…

“How are you?” An asks.

“I’m doing fine. I’m still keeping up with my daily routine even after attending classes. It’s more manageable than I thought it would be.”

“No, I mean…” An trails off, noticing the dark circles slowly carving themselves underneath Haruka’s eyes and her smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes as much as it used to, back in middle school when they bought two of each ice cream flavour for the first time. “How are you?”

“You’re just telling me the same thing— oh.” The curve of Haruka’s lips weaken, almost wistful, as realisation dawns on her. “Are you asking me why I suddenly retired?”

The background music fades into the lineup for ASRUN’s first album, and An knows Haruka hears it too and An thinks of how she couldn’t have asked that question at a worse timing. She suddenly remembers what Mizuki said about maintaining your distance, again, and An thinks that maybe she should’ve been patient and waited for Haruka to bring it up herself. As close as they still are, they haven’t really been talking as much as they used to, and maybe An has lost some of her ability to read Haruka over the course of their time apart.

There is a long pause, and it takes a while before Haruka starts, “It’s still a bit of a sore spot so I don’t really want to talk about it with anyone right now, but I promise I’ll tell you everything when I’m ready.” 

“Oh.” She’s struck with a sudden pang of guilt deep inside her.  “Sorry. I really wasn’t planning on asking you, but you never told me anything and I only knew what happened just because somebody else told me. I was hoping I would hear it from you,” An says, and it sounded more like a request for an answer than an apology in her own ears. She didn’t want to make it sound like she’s forcing Haruka to open up, so she backtracks. “You don’t have to tell me right now, but you know that you can talk to me anytime, right?”

“Of course I do. That’s what you always tell me,” Haruka replies. She studies An for a moment. “The same goes for you, An. You don’t have to tell me everything, but… if you ever plan on telling me, just know that I’d like to hear it.”

That’s all it takes for An to breathe easy. “I’ll remember that.”

“Good,” Haruka says. She finishes off her plate, and asks for another crepe and an extra cheesecake. “That reminds me, I haven’t told you about my first day in the general education course,” Haruka starts, right after she’s done placing her next order. “Some of my schoolmates are pretty interesting.”

An leans on the table, sensing a story. “Tell me about it.”

—

Koutarou fishes a small notepad out of his pocket and tears out a blank page, writing down the location and time as per An’s request. He folds the piece of paper and hands it to An. “That’s where he’s performing tonight. I’ll be there, too.”

“Thanks,” An says before Koutarou nods and heads out of the music shop. “I see…” her eyes follow Koutarou slowly disappear into the crowd by the pavement. “The two of them didn’t do anything…”

An already knew that before Koutarou admitted it. Akito wouldn’t lie about something as serious as cutting off the power, but somehow hearing it from somebody else made the truth feel more real.

It could’ve just ended at Koutarou’s apology, but there’s something else Koutarou said that she couldn’t quite grasp: I thought you were just a spoiled kid, his voice replays in her mind. It doesn’t matter how apologetic he sounded; the fact that he admitted that simply means he isn’t the only one in Vivid Street who believes she is solely relying on her father’s image to gain more popularity. The mere thought sends a chill down her spine and anger in her chest.

But even then, she can’t allow such a comment to get to her, because she should know better than anyone else that those kinds of people never last long in Vivid Street. It’s easy to tell apart those who are passionate from those who are merely seeking attention. An knows where she stands, so she tries to will away the ugly emotion spreading in her chest until she is no longer bothered by it anymore.

An is broken out of her reverie when Kohane speaks up.

“An-chan, I really think we should talk to Aoyagi-kun.”

A long silence follows the declaration, interspersed with the soft chatter of other customers in the music shop.

“...Huh?”

“I am not sure why, but…” Kohane trails off, trying to find the right words. “Now that we know it isn’t their fault… it doesn’t sit right with me to not help them.”

An blinks once. Then twice. “But—”

You wanting to talk to Touya doesn’t sit right with me either, An almost says. He called our music childish.

She wants to tell Touya to take it back. She wants to prove to him that there’s nothing childish about their music, and even if it is, it doesn’t give him any right to ridicule it especially when he got himself absorbed in the same music for so long.

Kohane tilts her head when An suddenly falls quiet. “An-chan?”

“No, it’s nothing,” An replies. What she actually does is swallow down the anger that’s threatening to surface; it feels wrong to discourage Kohane when she only has good intentions in mind, and Touya calling their music childish is only supposed to be between her and Akito.  “I mean, are you sure you’ll help them even after Akito treated you that way? I’d still be pretty mad at him if I were you.”

“It’s not that I’m not angry at him anymore… to be honest, I’m not sure on what to think of him, even after he already apologised,” Kohane admits, thumb absentmindedly fiddling the hem of her jacket. “Other than that, I think I can understand what it’s like to lose your partner. It has only been a few weeks since we became partners, but I don’t want us to go through that. And besides…” Kohane exhales. “I have a feeling that Aoyagi-kun still wants to continue singing with Shinonome-kun. I also know what that feels like, at least.”

An keeps on telling herself that what happened between Akito and Touya shouldn’t bother her — but it does. She will never know whether Touya was lying or not about their music being childish, but after Akito picked Touya as his partner, after watching them up on stage so many times, after seeing Touya get caught up in conversation about music to other customers in WEEKEND GARAGE, An chooses to believe in the better possibility.

“Hey, Kohane. I have an idea,” An says. Kohane looks at her in question, urging her to continue. “What if you come to our school after your last class so you could talk to him? Tell me when you’re free.”

—

It’s already late at night, the clouds heavy and grey from rain, when An arrives at the live house Koutarou wrote in the piece of paper he gave her. The event has already ended, and only a handful of people remain in the venue, seemingly caught up in a conversation about the event that just wrapped up. She immediately spots Akito by the pavement, taking shelter from the rain as he scowls at the sky. She is careful to approach him, hoping not to startle him.

“What, did you not check the weather forecast?” she jokes.

Akito’s scowl shifts to her. “Shut up. Why are you here, anyway?”

An ignores his question and makes room for him under her umbrella. “Come with me? I can walk you home.”

“And what makes you think I’m willing to share an umbrella with you?” he immediately shoots back. Without missing a beat, An closes her umbrella and goes under the shade with him. To his credit, he doesn’t budge. “What the hell. Now you’re joining me?”

An tries to keep her face placid. “What, did you think I was going to leave you alone?”

“Pretty much.” Akito looks away from her, finding the pitter patter of rain on concrete more interesting than their conversation. “How considerate of you to accompany me,” he says, voice carefully flat.

She knows he doesn’t mean it in the slightest. When An looks back at him, there is an unreadable expression on his face. An wants to dismiss it as how Akito usually is, but there’s something about his demeanour that’s tinged with an emotion difficult to judge.

“Thanks for the compliment,” she replies dryly.

“You know it wasn’t one,” he mumbles, “unless you’re a lot more stupid than I thought.”

He’s — pushing her away, she realises. His words are sharp, designed to cut. If she was still mad at him for what happened in RED, or for how he treated Kohane, his insults would be easy to take, easy to counter.

Except she isn’t mad at him anymore. She’s trying to learn how to round out his edges until his words feel less like a weapon, but she hasn’t quite figured him out yet, so it stings.

And it hurts.

“I don't hate you, Akito… and even if I did, I still wouldn't tell Kohane that it wasn’t your fault if you asked me not to tell her.”

Akito doesn’t budge, but she knows he’s shocked. “Why?”

An goes very quiet, after that, even though it hadn’t seemed like a difficult question. And even though An was the one who started the conversation, even though she’s the one who was often good at reading people, she is unsure on how to respond. But then she remembers the last time they talked, the night he opened up to her within the comforts of the Shinonome family kitchen, and the answer comes to her.

“For the same reason you told me what happened between you and Touya.”

“And for what reason would that be?”

If she wasn’t standing beside him, she would’ve missed the slightest shift in his expression, his small, small smile a smidge genuine. A gear in her chest turns.

“Why are you asking me?” An replies, unable to hold back the upward curve of her lips. “You tell me.”

Akito doesn’t move to speak. He just stands there quietly, letting the sound of rain surround them. This time, the silence lasts longer and it feels awkward and incomplete, as if they aren’t sure on what to do next now that the misunderstanding is out of the way.

After a while, Akito holds out his hand. “I’m borrowing your umbrella.”

She levels him an incredulous stare, the moment from earlier already long gone.

“…You do realise I can’t go home if I give you my umbrella, right?”

“Dumbass, I’m walking you back. If something happens to you, I don’t want Ken-san to think it’s my fault.”

They stay quiet the whole way back, An’s eyes remaining fixed on the pavement as Akito slows down to match her pace. When they arrive, she lets him stay in WEEKEND GARAGE for a while, insisting that he should at least grab a cup of coffee first before he returns back home.

“I’m sorry about last time,” An suddenly apologises, just when Akito finishes his coffee and stands up to leave. She places his empty mug on the sink. “I wasn’t trying to piss you off on purpose… that time, I was just frustrated that you wouldn’t tell me anything about what happened in RED.”

He examines her for a moment, and his gaze is so heavy she can practically feel it down on her throat. The room feels, somehow, even more quiet than it already was.

“Nah, not your fault. I was the one keeping things from you.”

He doesn’t say it outright, but she catches the underlying sorry in his words.

As he makes his way out to the door, she hands him back her umbrella. “It’s been a while since you came here,” she tells him. “Dad was wondering when you and Touya are coming again.”

Akito casts her a sidelong glance — his expression is still unreadable, although his demeanour feels a tad different from earlier; he’s a fraction warmer, a little more honest.

It doesn’t last too long, though, because he turns to face the door before she could completely understand what it means.

“Probably not for a while,” he replies, with a little something in his tone that she can’t quite pin down. “After all that talk with Ken-san about surpassing RAD WEEKEND alongside Touya, I wasn’t able to keep my word.”

Not even a few days later, he runs into WEEKEND GARAGE in the middle of a call with her father. She briefly considers giving him a piece of her mind — it wouldn’t kill him to be more honest about his feelings if it meant his fight with Touya wouldn’t last longer than it should. It wouldn’t take them this long to form Vivid BAD SQUAD, and it wouldn’t take her just as long to notice the renewed determination in his eyes as the four of them sing together, and when she does—

“You need my help? What for?” Akito asks her over the phone. The digital clock on her nightstand turns over to the next hour, the day shifting from Sunday to Monday. For someone who claimed he was busy on Sunday nights, it didn’t even take two rings for Akito to pick up her call. Busy, my ass, An almost mumbled when she was immediately greeted by his voice, but she decided that it was best to promptly shut her mouth.

Just as An is about to answer, she hears a loud thud on the other line, followed by an even louder, Fuck!

An bursts in laughter.

“Christ, that shit hurts. I stubbed my fucking toe,” he complains, and she only laughs harder. An can practically feel his frown through her phone screen. When her laughter dies down, he takes the eventual silence as his cue to ask, “Why are you even calling this late?”

“I got a really good idea for a melody just earlier.” An looks at the makeshift music sheet she drew earlier across the edges of her unanswered physics homework, making a mental note to erase it before she asks Kohane for help with solving the problems. “Inspiration never lasts long, so hurry up and help me with the demo while I still feel like doing it.”

“Sure— wait, now?”

“Yup!”

Akito groans. “I literally just got home from my part-time job… I can't help you right now. I still need to shower.” An's phone picks up the sounds of him shuffling for clothes in his cabinet. “Actually, why don’t you just ask the others? Not sure about Azusawa’s experience on composing, but I’ve done this a couple of times with Touya before. Pretty sure he can help you out.”

It's An's turn to frown. Kohane is out of town with her parents for a short family trip, and Touya said something about preparing for a test tomorrow, which then brings An to a realisation that they have the same teacher and she will also be taking the test. She forcibly pushes the thought to the back of her mind. “I considered asking them but they're busy right now… I don’t want to bother them.”

“So you decided to bother me instead,” Akito mutters.

She purses her lips, irrationally upset at the sense of distance in his words. He probably thinks I'm a bother, she thinks, which doesn't make sense because he was just as enthusiastic as her on the idea of composing songs for Vivid BAD SQUAD during their last practice. Even though she's known him for years, she's new to this side of him that he's rarely shown to anybody else, and she is yet to be able to tell when he is sarcastic and when he is genuinely pissed. "I can finish this on my own," she finally says after a while, with more heat than she intended to show. "It's not like I'm forcing you to help me out."

After a short silence, Akito replies, “Idiot, I never said I’m not helping. We can probably come up with a few phrases tonight but you’re gonna have to wait for me. I’ll call you back after I’m out of the shower. If you won’t answer after five rings… just know I am not gonna stay up to wait for you.”

Akito huffs out a small laugh, and she nearly forgets to reply.

"Oh," An breathes out, voice small. She tries to squeeze out another word. "Okay."

—

Ever since she was little, she wanted to be like her father.

She couldn’t grasp the extent of how talented Ken was back then, at least not yet. All she could understand is that people look up to him, and he’s kind and trustworthy, and he’s good at listening to others, and far better at giving advice. As much as she wished that he would pay more attention to her sometimes, it’s hard to fault everyone for approaching him all the time, at least not when she knows she looks up to her father the same way they do.

There was a brief period when Ken took a break from participating in events. That was years before he retired, a time way before RAD WEEKEND and a time before she first learns what it means to chase after a dream. Not once has it been brought up over the dinner table, and back then, An was unsure if it’s a subject she should bring up to him. When An asked her mother why her father is spending much more time at home than usual, she told her that she should ask him herself.

And so she plopped on the couch beside him as they watched a TV drama on a weekend. She forced herself to stay awake through plot twists she couldn’t understand, gathering the courage to ask him what’s wrong after the credits roll.

Daddy, I haven’t seen you sing in a while.

Oh, you noticed? I’m taking a break.

Break? You mean you want to take a rest?

You’re right.

But aren’t you already well-rested, Daddy? We slept looooots last night!

(This was years before she understood what burnout is; what it’s like to be tired, the kind that even a good night’s rest can’t fix.)

You slept longer than I did, though.

Daddy, you wake up too early!

That earned her a laugh from him. Mine’s pretty normal. Your mom wakes up way earlier than I do. She’s a light sleeper.

Really?

Yeah. Ken’s eyes softened, seemingly distant to a time way beneath his years yet way beyond An’s reach. After telling An a few stories about him and her mother, he said, An, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to sing again. It might be tomorrow. It might be next week. It might even be after a few months. Or maybe I'll never be back.

Why?

Because I don’t know when I’ll feel like singing again, but I’ll be back at it before you know it. I promise.

It took Ken nearly a year to get his groove back. For someone who was so focused on music nearly his entire life, Ken didn’t seem too hung up over not being able to hold a microphone for that long — either his age has made him better at concealing his emotions, or maybe she was too young and too inexperienced to notice how much his burnout affected him. Maybe it was both. She didn’t know; even if she wanted to, it’s probably way too late to ask him, and she’s rather cautious about reopening old wounds despite Ken telling her that he’s fine talking about it.

Somehow, even though An has been continuously singing for years since then, she has never experienced the burnout her father went through. It’s going to be inevitable at some point, but she can’t let it get to her too soon, not when she now has Vivid BAD SQUAD by her side — she refuses to bring the group down, and if they’re going to surpass RAD WEEKEND, she is going to push herself to the limit even when she feels the weariness gnawing into her. With Kohane and Akito and Touya, RAD WEEKEND is within her grasp far more than when she was on her own.

—

Between events with Kohane and practices with Akito and Touya, the four of them couldn’t find the right time to perform as Vivid BAD SQUAD. They’re making progress but it’s as if they’re not progressing enough — the others definitely feel the same way, getting too impatient to sign up to an event as Vivid BAD SQUAD and not as Vivids and BAD DOGS, but nobody talks about it for too long. There’s no time to talk about it when they should be focused on finding what performance suits the four of them best. We’re getting there. I can feel it, Akito says once, right in the middle of a practice session where the genre of the song list happens to click with all four of them like a gear perfectly in place. We just have to practise harder until we get this right, then we can finally perform together as a group.

After a particularly long day of practice, An returns to her room and cycles through all her social media. After clearing out all her notifications, she receives a text from Haruka.

Haruka: There’s a new cafe near our school and I don’t have a lot of plans for this week. Do you want to come with me? I hope you’re doing well.

They meet the next day in a penguin-themed cafe that just opened nearby Miyamasuzaka. They catch up over desserts and tea; An talks about Kohane and Akito and Touya — I’m glad you already found a partner, Haruka says. I remember you telling me about how you wanted to team up with someone, but he got a partner before you could ask him, right? — and Haruka finally tells her about Mai and her retirement and Minori and Airi and Shizuku.

An feels a burst of excitement as Haruka finishes her story. “So that means…?”

“I’m not retiring after all,” Haruka replies, barely able to contain her happiness.

Haruka says she doesn’t plan on letting the public know any time soon that she’s coming back, at least until MORE MORE JUMP! releases their first video. That, surprisingly, doesn’t take too long — a few weeks later, Mizuki sends her a video call request on a weekday, her ringtone waking her up a couple of hours before her alarm goes off. It happens more often than An would like; she’s running low on sleep and Mizuki is way too cheery and too wide awake for three in the morning. Despite her lack of sleep, she makes an effort to stay up for them. Mizuki’s laughs are infectious, and An finds that talking to Mizuki is easy, just as easy as talking to Haruka, even when their conversation gets as mundane as raiding their fridges and pantries for snacks.

An stares at the can in Mizuki’s hand through the video call as she brings out a kettle to boil water. “What is that? I’ve never seen that brand before.”

“Canned cheesecake,” Mizuki replies. Mizuki places the can somewhere off-screen and walks away to grab something. An’s phone speaker registers the sounds of utensils from Mizuki’s side of the line. After a while, Mizuki comes back with a fork. “I bought it since a friend told me this brand of canned cheesecake is good, and I wanted to try it out.”

“May I see?”

Mizuki directs their camera to the cheesecake. An’s screen is met with a concoction of preservatives and cheesecake and more preservatives.

“That doesn’t look very appetising,” An comments.

“Well, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it!” Mizuki quickly takes a bite of their cheesecake, then deliberates. “It’s not too bad for canned food?” Mizuki tilts their head as if they’re unsure. “I don’t think I’m gonna buy more of this, though. I’ll stick to store-bought cheesecake…” Mizuki trails off when they hear a loud crinkle in An’s line. “An, what are you having?”

An shows Mizuki the pack of instant noodles in her hand. “Indomie,” she proudly says.

Mizuki pouts. “Now I want one, too.”

For a while, Akito teaches Len and Rin how to beatbox. Len and Rin cheer in excitement as Akito finally gives in after weeks of bugging him about it, and An bombards the Vivid BAD SQUAD group chat with clips of the three of them focused in their session. They would easily take notice of An’s camera pointed at them, but Len and Rin are all smiles as they throw a peace sign while Akito raises an eyebrow. Oi, cut it out, Akito would grumble, but he makes no move to get her to put her phone away; he just returns to teaching Len and Rin. Akito is unreasonably focused and deadset on getting them to a decent level, even though beatboxing isn’t a skill that anyone from their group would put to good use. There’s no legitimate reason to learn and they’re all just killing time. Somehow, Akito seems to be enjoying it too much for someone who claims he doesn’t want to be seen beatboxing by people who actually know him.

When they finish up, Akito takes a seat across from An in the cafe and fishes his phone out of his pocket. There are new messages from Kohane and Touya in the group chat.

Kohane: That's really impressive! Len and Rin are so good at it already.

Touya: Akito is finally teaching them? I'm not exactly surprised that they managed to convince him, but what's with the change of heart?

Kohane: I'm not sure, we could ask him about it later… oh, right! That reminds me.

Touya: What is it?

Kohane: Weren't there groups with beatboxers in the last event we participated in?  We should ask Len and Rin to beatbox for us the next time we all practice together!

Touya: You're right. It'll be a good learning experience for all of us.

“I always told Len and Rin I ain't teaching them but they're so damn insistent,” Akito says out loud as he types the message down. He then goes through all the videos An sent in the group chat, and An laughs when his expression shifts from annoyance to amusement. As he finally reaches the most recent video, the one where Len and Rin have gotten significantly better at beatboxing, he is brimming with pride.

Akito looks up from his phone to the glass walls of Crase Cafe, where Len and Rin are teaching Miku the basics to beatboxing under the glow of the sun. “I already taught them everything I know, so this better be the last time they bug the hell out of me.”

He heaves a sigh, seemingly exasperated and almost too fond. An carefully doesn’t point out the upward tiny quirk in his lips, but she says, “You're acting all annoyed but you were definitely having fun, weren't you?”

An half-expects him to deny it. Surprisingly, he only shrugs, not sparing any effort to hide the smallest bit of satisfaction that’s still on his face. Akito grabs his bag and pulls out a notebook; in it are a bunch of phrases they came up with the last time they brainstormed together, finally written down on actual paper so they don't have to rely on the messy doodles scribbled on the corners of An’s physics homework.

(An submitted the homework on time thanks to Kohane. It's been a couple of days since then, and An still feels the need to apologise to Kohane a hundred times over for inconveniencing her. Kohane, ever so patient and understanding, told An that it’s alright as long as she asks for help earlier next time.)

“Let’s get to work,” Akito says as he leans on the table, already focused on the task at hand. “We gotta make some progress today.”

Street SEKAI strangely feels as familiar and comforting as WEEKEND GARAGE. Somehow, talking to Akito gives her a similar feeling, although she's never really thought about it; the familiarity probably comes from years of knowing him. It’s only until the time she calls Akito into the school library after their club activities to come up with lyrics for their new melody when she realises there’s something about Akito that makes her feel like she can breathe a little deeper, a little easier. Conversations with Akito feel easy, familiar and comforting in a way that isn’t quite the same as Street SEKAI or WEEKEND GARAGE — being with him reminds her of her rare outings with Haruka and her constant late night video calls with Mizuki. Maybe it’s because they’re now teammates, or maybe it’s because he started showing her the side of him that’s more genuine. Both possibilities are highly likely. And, for reasons she would rather not find out, both possibilities also scare her.

A small part of An hopes Akito feels the same way. He most likely doesn’t, considering how it took him this long to act more genuinely around her. It’s not that hard to see why; An isn’t BAD DOGS, so she will never be the person that saw Akito up close when he was starting out, and she will never be the person who experienced his improvement by his side. Somehow, the sense of distance he places between them doesn't offend her as much as she thought it would. To her, Akito will never be Vivids, and he will never be the person she impulsively asked to be her partner. To her, Akito is Vivid BAD SQUAD, Akito is one of the countless musicians who look up to her father, and, more importantly, Akito is the person she knew first before Kohane and Touya did. She has seen the side of him that he never shows others, so he will always feel real to her regardless of what act he puts up.

Later, she learns from Touya that the fresh, raw scratch marks in his arms are from his sister, and it hits her that despite knowing Akito longer, she will never know Akito as well as Touya does.

—

An realises the hard way, after a painfully long while of performing alongside Kohane, that she doesn’t know as much as she thought she did about having a singing partner. The night after Akito chastises her for not treating Kohane as an equal, she brings her equipment to Scramble Crossing after helping out with the basketball club, singing all alone to mull over what happened. An has observed countless partners before she met Kohane, and even after all that, she can’t get things right. Akito, who had less singing experience than she did and far less knowledge on what it's like to have a partner, somehow already knew what to do by instinct, and he’s handling it far better than she could be.

Having Haruka listen to her worries, and knowing that Haruka went through something similar through Mai, has taken a load off her shoulders. She thinks of getting Haruka a gift. The limited Phenny-kun plushie in one of the arcades Touya frequents in would probably do.

One impulsive trip to the arcade later and thousands of yen poorer, An is glaring at the limited edition penguin plushie in the claw machine. Touya stands behind her, watching her fail as the claw catches air seven times in a row.

Touya casts her a pitiful glance, seemingly too eager to take her place. “Are you sure you don’t need any help, Shiraishi?”

Touya, ever so kind, immediately obliged when An invited him to the arcade in his rare free time. He’s always been a balm to the nerves, but even his presence isn’t helping in the slightest when the blue Phenny-kun staring at her from within the glass case is starting to piss her off. She angrily shoves another coin into the godforsaken machine slot. “One more time, I swear! Then you can help me get it.”

In the end, An fails her last try and Touya ends up taking over. With the blue Phenny-kun finally in her hands, Touya teaches her what he claimed to be basic techniques for arcade claw machines. She tries to listen but none of his extremely elaborate explanations is getting through her. She absentmindedly wonders if this is why Akito doesn’t accompany Touya in arcades.

Haruka sends An two discount vouchers for her mother’s nail salon as thanks for the limited Phenny-kun. An gives the other voucher to Mizuki without telling them about Haruka’s mother being the owner of the nail salon. A few days later, while composing lyrics with Akito in An’s room, An is met with a particularly loud call from Mizuki: An, why did you not tell me about this nail salon oh my God this place is crazy expensive, Haruka was also here and I was freaking out I can’t sit still, I cannot believe I was gonna meet her this soon she is super nice and super cute and her mom was also really nice to me and she also allowed me to draw a design for her next batch of nails holy crap An it’s been hours and I’m still freaking out—

“Akiyama, calm the hell down and take a deep breath,” Akito mumbles as he overhears Mizuki from An’s phone. It’s either Mizuki didn’t hear Akito or Mizuki completely ignored him because they continued their rambling. After a couple of minutes of excited back-and-forth between An and Mizuki, they said they were going to sleep (in the middle of the day, An almost chides, but she decides that it’s in her best interests to bite her tongue) and the call ends.

Akito eyes An curiously. “Idols, huh. Never paid too much attention to them, but my sister’s friend was an idol once.” Akito takes a sip of the coffee Ken made for them earlier, and then there’s a faint furrow between his eyebrows — it’s a habit of his that she picked up from all the times they composed their songs, which only meant the coffee has grown cold. Somehow, not once has he complained about cold coffee. “I respect them. They have backbone.”

“They do,” An replies, remembering Haruka and then her stories of Mai. And An couldn’t help but associate the way Haruka encouraged Mai to how she treated Kohane, to how she wanted to keep Kohane by her side as her first and hopefully only partner. Still guilty about what happened, especially after Akito scolded her that night, she folds her arms and buries her face down on the table, closing her eyes.

There’s a few minutes of silence as she listens to the lull of pencil lead on paper as Akito continues to write down lyrics. After he’s exhausted all his ideas, he places his pencil down the table. She can feel the weight of his gaze on her. “An.”

“I’ll help you out later, I swear,” she says defensively. “I’m just tired.”

“Dumbass, I wasn’t planning to ask you to come up with more ideas,” Akito replies. She still finds it difficult to read him; he’s not scolding her anymore and yet his tone is too rough to be comforting. But he probably noticed that there’s something off with her with the way he didn’t ask her to get back to work earlier like he usually does. He then continues, quietly: “You still bothered about what happened?”

She buries her face deeper into her arms, suddenly feeling too vulnerable in the comforts of her own room. “Yeah,” An replies, and her words come out more honestly than they should.

“You should deal with this as soon as possible. It’s difficult to hold group practices when the both of you are acting that way.”

“Yeah,” she repeats. “Sorry.”

“It’s not me you should be apologising to.” Akito doesn’t tell her outright that it’s Kohane who deserves her apology, but the unspoken words hang heavy in the air all the same. “I’m sure you already know that, though.”

An is painfully aware that whatever is going on between her and Kohane should’ve been resolved already, but all she's been doing the past few days is stay up with Akito to compose while pondering on what she could’ve done to be a better partner. An is yet to wrap her head around the piece of advice Miku gave her when she dropped by Crase Cafe: Wanting to remain by your partner’s side isn’t just a feeling, it’s also a choice. An has a feeling that Akito understands what that means, but something tells her that simply asking Akito about it wouldn’t necessarily help her become better. For that same reason, asking her own father about it daunts her, too, even though he has years of experience beyond their entire group combined.

“I don’t perform alone in events as much as I used to, but everyone still refers to me as my dad’s daughter. Apparently me being his daughter is more important than me being a part of Vivids or Vivid BAD SQUAD.” When she feels the sleep creeping into her, she opens her eyes to will it away as she turns to Akito. “I’m proud to have him as my dad, but… I don’t feel like they see my talents as my own sometimes. Having my dad around feels like an unfair advantage for me, especially when…” You had to fight your way up, An almost says but stops herself.

Akito sends her a long look. “You can’t even keep your eyes open,” he points out instead, shifting his focus back to the lyrics. “Get some sleep. I’ll continue working on the song.”

“I’m not that sleepy yet,” she insists.

“Then close your eyes.”

Her eyes remain open. “That reminds me, Akito. Your birthday is coming up soon.”

“What part of close your eyes do you not understand?”

“You’re usually around at my birthday parties, but I never got to celebrate your birthday with you. Do you want anything?”

Akito’s eyes flash with equal parts surprise and confusion. “What’s with this all of a sudden?”

“Just answer the question, will you?” An presses, suddenly more annoyed than she’s supposed to be. “Telling me wouldn’t kill you.”

An inexplicable expression falls on his face. “I never really thought about what I wanted. It’s not like I ask for anything specific for my birthday.”

An’s eyes widen slightly, taken aback. “Really? You haven’t?”

“Nope.”

“Ever?”

“That’s what I just fucking told you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Whether you believe me or not is not my goddamn problem.” Akito’s voice is deliberate, flat. “Look, even if I told you what I wanted, it’s… not that simple. It’s not something that I could get even if I ask for it. I actually have to earn it.”

An purses her lips, unable to say anything else. Akito is just being the way he is. He always does what needs to be done to get what he wants. She should understand because she follows the same principles, but they’re still different. Akito has to start from rock bottom to get to where he is at right now, and while An also worked hard to be able to stand alongside him as a teammate, her father’s reputation follows her even though she’d rather be recognised for her own skills. And despite having an advantageous situation laid out in front of her, she still can’t figure out how she can make it up with Kohane like what Akito did with Touya. “Akito, I’m just asking you what you want for your birthday,” An finally says, swallowing the brief moment of inadequacy. “You’re making my question sound more complicated than it actually is.”

Akito regards her quietly. “You think that’s not hard to answer? Fine, I’ll ask you the same thing.” He leans in close. “An, what do you want?”

Akito’s expression is unreadable, and she remembers it as the same look he gave her back when they first apologised to each other under the pouring rain. She didn't know him well enough to understand what it meant, but now she does.

She’s not the only one who has been thinking about what they will be from here on out.

“I want…”

An wants too many things; most of them are dreams she has been chasing since she was young. She wants to surpass RAD WEEKEND, she wants to continue putting on the best events, she wants to go beyond Vivid Street and even Shibuya if it means getting better at what she does. But she also wants to remain alongside Vivid BAD SQUAD, she wants to stay within the familiarity of Vivid Street, she wants to grow up with the same people who taught her what it means to be a musician.

The more dreams she chases after, the more reality settles in that she can’t get everything she wants. The only thing that remains constant is her want to be in her own element — to An, being in her own element always meant being able to sing. An still wants to keep singing, but right now, being in her own element also means catching up with Haruka over sweets and tea, and experiencing the mundane joys of life with Mizuki, and performing alongside Kohane and Touya and Akito. Being in her own element means sharing a table with Akito, carving their own small space in cafes and libraries and convenience stores to compose songs. She’s at her best when she’s holding a microphone, but there’s also something about having to come up with lyrics alongside Akito that makes her feel alive in a way that the electric in live houses couldn’t replicate, and breathing off pure adrenaline is what she is most comfortable with.

Beneath their attachment to RAD WEEKEND, they were very, very different people. But when everybody else seems to misunderstand An, Akito is always the first person to fall into step with her. Even though they may be different in more ways than one, they’re similar in everything else that matters to her the most, and knowing she can stand alongside him is more than enough for her—

The last thing An feels before she drifts off to sleep is Akito’s firm gaze.

Even if Touya told Akito to wait before forming judgments about An’s choice of partner, listening to the beginning of their performance makes it hard for Akito to hold back. Shiraishi-san’s voice is too cautious, Akito notices, recognizing the song as the one An often includes in her setlist for her solo performances in the past. An is still singing the same as usual, but there’s something lacking that he can’t quite place his finger on. She sends Azusawa-san too many cues, Akito thinks, as An glances at Kohane for the nth time in the span of a few seconds. She isn’t used to singing with a real partner, Akito concludes, as he continues watching the trainwreck amidst the deafening cheers.

Akito isn’t blind. He knows resolve when he sees it; he’s seen An far too many times to know she has what it takes, and he also notices bits of conviction in Kohane’s eyes. What some people don’t seem to realise, though, is that resolve alone isn’t enough — it’s also what they do with that resolve. So even if Akito thinks he has already seen enough, he still sticks around to see their performance to the end, to see if something changes.

Then, the power goes out.

It takes a moment for the audience to notice, too caught up in the intensity of the performance, but Akito instantly makes his way backstage to check the sound system. There’s no need for him to stay, not when he’s already seen their resolve. The performance will continue as usual even without the music and the both of them will be able to finish up without a hitch.

Instead, the only voice he hears is An’s.

Akito stops in his tracks to look back at the stage and instantly recognises the panic in Kohane’s eyes. The conviction she had earlier slowly crumbles; she holds onto her microphone for dear life and she’s shaking and she’s quiet. A small, shameful part of Akito feels triumphant at the sight — all along, he already knew that Kohane’s resolve is still lacking, and this just proves it. Another part of him, one that he didn’t even realise existed, sees remnants of his past self in Kohane — stiff, trembling, inexperienced in the world of music. The only difference is that Kohane is letting the atmosphere get the best of her, while Akito managed to push through even when scared.

Deciding he has seen more than necessary, Akito continues running to the backstage to check for equipment malfunction, not looking back, ignoring the disappointment settling in the pits of his stomach. He doesn’t stop to think about whether the ugly emotion is directed to An for picking a complete novice as a partner, or if it’s to himself for expecting too much out of her.

(Later on, An tells him, “I’ve severely misjudged you!” and runs after Kohane. Her words ring in his ears on the way home, and it burns him more deeply than she would ever realise. Aside from their shared goal to surpass RAD WEEKEND, he’s rarely genuine to her right from the beginning, and he doesn’t have any excuse to defend himself with.)

—

Akito is well-aware of how everyone in Vivid Street looks up to Ken. He’s kind and trustworthy, and he’s good at listening to others, and far better at giving advice, so it doesn’t surprise Akito in the slightest that everyone would be protective of his daughter. The part of Akito that thinks of itself as part of Vivid Street admits that he feels the same way about An. He highly doubts he would pay this much attention to An if she wasn’t Ken’s daughter, but sometimes he thinks of how things would be the same even if that were not the case. There’s something about her that makes people naturally gravitate to her, and he just happens to be within her orbit.

One thing Akito forgot to take into consideration, though, is how fast news spread in Vivid Street. He’s heard gossip circulate in WEEKEND GARAGE nearly every time he’s in there. Being on the other end of the gossip this time feels as shitty as he expected. He can sense the piercing glances directed his way whenever he participates in events all alone, and he always has to guess if it’s because they find it odd that he is no longer with Touya, or if it’s because of what everyone assumes he did to An and Kohane in RED. Neither are good possibilities. There are days when he comes across Koutarou who casts him a glance of silent apology, and Akito catches himself mumbling: for fuck’s sake, Mita Koutarou, when the hell are you going to grow a pair and admit to An and that midget it was all your fault?

And then he’s failing his tests and he’s subjected to supplementary classes. Akito is forced to lessen his practice times — without Touya, he bitterly reminds himself — and he has to turn in a request for change of shifts in his part-time job for the next couple of weeks. It’s all a royal pain in the ass. It just continues to get worse when his seatmate turns out to be the same person who thinks he sabotaged her first event with her rookie partner.

Akito wants to believe he’s growing used to An giving him the cold shoulder after what happened in RED, but there’s a small part of Akito that regrets lying about the power outage. Don’t take it to heart, Akito reminds himself every time she glares at him, it’s your fault for being impulsive and now she thinks you’re responsible for it.

“Akito,” she calls out, hushed enough for the teacher to not hear her. Akito looks at her from his problem sheet. “I know I usually let you off the hook for this, but the next time you come to school with piercings I’m seriously gonna have to write up a report. The teachers are saying the disciplinary committee has been too lax recently.”

There’s a sense of distance in her words. He tries not to think about it too hard. “Yeah, you’ve definitely been lax,” he says as he points at her newly polished nails. “I think I’m also gonna report you for that.”

To An’s credit, though, the nail polish was so subtle it took him a while to notice it, but he’s not telling her that.

“I don’t wanna take it off. This was pretty expensive.” An frowns, covering her nails like Akito is going to take it away from her. “Well. I got a discount from Haruka’s mom, but it was still pricey.”

Akito clicks his tongue in annoyance. It’s unfair that she’s going to report him if she’s letting herself get away with the rules. “Then don’t tell me to take off my piercings—”

“Five more minutes,” the teacher loudly announces, and they both scramble back to their problem sheets.

As Akito is about to finish up with the last problem, he feels a nudge on his arm. He leans into An’s direction and says, “What do you want?”

“I’m not writing you up for your piercings, so don’t report me for my nail polish,” An proposes.

Akito nods. “Deal.”

Having An as a seatmate wasn’t that bad. Even after what happened, they both make it a point to tolerate each other as soon as they’re seated next to each other, and they cheat off each other’s answers when time is almost up and the teacher isn’t looking in their direction. Most of her answers aren’t necessarily correct, but it’s not like he has the right to complain. He’s no better than her.

After patching things up with Touya, Akito practically begs Touya to help him with his studies until he is finally freed from supplementary classes by the skin of his teeth. You can pass your tests if you study just a little bit harder, Touya advises Akito once over an overnight study session. Akito knows he can do it, although he can’t help but prioritise his performances over his studies. An is the same way, it’s obvious from the countless times he’s caught her composing and planning setlists instead of answering the questions on mock test papers.

It’s not like he has the right to point that out to An, either. He’s also no better than her in that regard.

—

Over time, Kohane partly becomes the reason why Akito manages to avoid supplementary classes. Whenever Akito or An is on the verge of failing, the four of them head to Kohane’s house for an emergency study session — WEEKEND GARAGE is no longer an option because they don’t want to bother Ken-san all the time, and going to Street SEKAI is just asking to get distracted by Len and Rin with their shenanigans.

The first time Akito visits Kohane’s house is also the first time he learns that Kohane’s pet snake eats frozen mice whole. Count Pearl, Kohane would coo as she feeds her pet snake. Touya’s completely mesmerised in the whole process while Akito and An watch in horror as Count Pearl’s mouth opens up wide. Akito vows not to watch Kohane feed Count Pearl again, but that’s not the end of it; somehow he’s got Count Pearl really attached to him, the pet snake often coiling around his arm whenever they’re studying in Kohane’s room. Akito wants to get Count Pearl off him, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell that to Kohane when she seems genuinely excited at the turn of events, telling him that this is the first time Count Pearl likes a human this much! An would joke about how Akito gives off crazy strong animal hormones, while Touya levels her a look of misplaced confusion. Shiraishi, I don’t think that’s how it works.

Around an hour into their study session, An and Kohane leave the room to grab some snacks downstairs. As the sound of their footsteps fade in the hallway, Touya ventures, “Shiraishi told me.”

Akito peers at him in suspicion. “Told you what?”

“That you told her why we were fighting back then,” Touya answers. He looks away as if trying to remember something. “I wonder if this is why Azusawa dropped by Kamikou after school that time. She was convincing me to be partners with you again.”

Akito blinks. “You’re shitting me. Azusawa did that?”

Touya nods as he explains what happened, extending an arm to Count Pearl. Akito can feel Count Pearl loosen from his arm as she slithers towards Touya’s.

“Azusawa’s too damn nice,” Akito mumbles when Touya finishes speaking. There’s a stab of guilt in his chest every time he is reminded of the things he said to Kohane, but knowing Kohane did that for Touya before they became teammates makes him feel even worse. “I never planned to tell An about what happened, but we had a stupid deal. I told her in exchange for half of the last limited ice cream. Now that I think about it, that was pretty stupid.”

“It’s alright. They deserve to know what happened, now that we are a team.” Touya takes a deep breath, and Akito waits patiently as Touya gathers his thoughts. “Sorry,” Touya mutters, “for saying our music is childish.”

Akito doesn’t like where this conversation is going. The memory of that night surfaces, which Akito immediately pushes to the back of his mind. Akito would rather not relive the dread of not knowing his close friend as much as he thought he did. The both of them have already reconciled since then, but there are still some things they haven’t properly talked about yet, and they happen to be the same things Akito would rather avoid. “Don’t apologise. You obviously didn’t mean what you said back then.”

“But I never apologised for it, so let me.”

Akito searches Touya’s expression, but all he sees is guilt. Just as Akito mulls over his response, they hear two sets of footsteps ascending the stairs.

Touya twists his mouth, clearly about to drop the conversation before An and Kohane come back, but Akito beats him to it. “Don’t worry about it, really. We’re good now.”

There’s a brief silence. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Akito answers. “Just… if you get into another argument with your dad and it bothers you, tell us next time. You probably don’t notice it, but it’s not just me. Azusawa and An also worry about you.”

Touya seems a bit caught off guard, but he recovers quickly, offering Akito a small smile before two familiar voices pipe up from behind them.

—

The days leading to the school festival are a blur. The entire time, Akito doesn’t get to see An much and he doesn’t ask her what in the world she just got herself roped into. All he knows is An is practically never in her classroom. Nowadays, she is often late to rehearsals, and she doesn’t look at the new messages in the Vivid BAD SQUAD group chat, and she’s not helping out in WEEKEND GARAGE as much as she used to. The only time Akito gets to have a proper conversation with her is when he finds her in Class 2-A, reciting a bunch of comically dramatic lines off the script in her hands. He was about to ask her what the hell she’s doing in a class play that she’s not supposed to be a part of, but Class 2-A is overwhelmed by Tsukasa barking orders left and right: fix your blocking, where are our other cast members, call them back here right now, we are supposed to use the castle backdrop for this scene, everyone please hurry up and get moving WE DON’T HAVE MUCH TIME LEFT.

When she’s finally out of the scene, she grabs a bottle of water as she slumps at the seat beside him. “The one who’s playing the role of Juliet caught a fever this morning so I’m subbing in for now,” An explains.

“Can’t they just rehearse without a Juliet?” Akito asks.

She shrugs. “Technically they could, but Tsukasa-senpai said having me around helps them plan with how the blockings should work on the stage.”

They spend An’s breaktime thumbing through a brand new script of Romeo: The Battle Royale provided by Tsukasa, who also takes the time to promote the play: It’s a heart-wrenching love story, yours truly! Please stop by our class during the school festival for our play!

What they end up reading is far from a heart-wrenching love story as pitched by Tsukasa; it’s more of a slapstick comedy, and everything they read gets lost in Akito’s offhanded remarks and An’s fits of laughter.

“What in the fresh hell am I reading.” Akito passes the script back to An, unable to finish reading the entire thing from sheer incredulity. “Who wrote this?”

An points to the name printed in all bold, capital letters at the front page. “Tsukasa-senpai.”

“Oh.” Akito should’ve expected that. “And? Who among the nine Romeos is going to win?” he asks, suddenly feeling stupid he had to specify how many Romeos were involved in this tragedy of a play.

“…Tsukasa-senpai.”

Akito huffs, unimpressed. “Right. Obviously. Romeo: The Battle Royale, directed by Tsukasa-senpai, written by Tsukasa-senpai, starring Tsukasa-senpai. What an all-around and incredibly talented senpai he is!” Akito deadpans, watching Tsukasa celebrating with his classmates for a job well-done after a successful scene. “He’s going to have a blast if he hears me saying this shit.”

Later, Akito learns that the reason why he hasn’t seen An much recently is because she is running all over the school to do errands as the school festival is approaching. That, in itself, shouldn’t be a problem, except they’re already short on time for practice as their next event is coming up, and Akito is pretty sure being a member of the disciplinary committee doesn’t come with the responsibility of doing grunt work for their upperclassmen. When Akito scolds her about pushing herself too hard, she laughs it off and says, “It’s fine! I find it fun anyways, no biggie.”

Soon enough, An is called back into practice. Just as Akito is about to leave, An trips on one of the props, right on cue, and whatever cheesy dialogue An is supposed to say next gets lost in chaos.

—

An is lucky. She suffered a pretty bad fall, but she sustained no serious injury and she’s still able to walk. All she gets is a sprained arm that she has to deal with for a few days until it heals.

Tsukasa profusely apologises to An about the misplaced prop and swears he will make it up to her someday. The nurse has already finished bandaging up An’s arm long before Tsukasa entered the clinic, and most of their time in the clinic is spent instead on reassuring a frazzled Tsukasa that, no it’s not a big deal and it’s just an accident, none of this is your fault it’s going to heal soon SERIOUSLY SENPAI IT’S ALRIGHT PLEASE CALM DOWN.

Touya is supposed to leave with Akito and An after school, but just as they pass by the school gates, his phone buzzes with a text from one of the library committee members, saying they’re short on people and they would appreciate it if Touya could help them out. Touya, ever so responsible, tells Akito and An to go ahead without him as he turns around and sprints to the school library.

As soon as Touya is gone, they stop by the supermarket to restock ingredients for WEEKEND GARAGE. An ends up going way over the budget so Akito had to pay for a portion of her groceries alongside the ice cream they bought to eat on the way home. Because of An’s injured arm, Akito insists on carrying the shopping bags on the way back.

“You better pay me back,” Akito says as they stop by the red pedestrian lights in Scramble Crossing. “That was worth a huge chunk of my paycheck.”

“Just that much!? Have you ever thought of getting a better part-time job?”

“Hey, you’re one to talk!”

“Are you implying that I should stop working in Dad’s cafe?” An exaggerates a disgusting sob, and Akito bites back a comment of how she is getting way too into the role of a dramatic maiden getting fought over by nine Romeos. She wipes a nonexistent tear. “Just you wait until I tell him this!”

Just as Akito is going to put up with her theatrics, the pedestrian light turns green and he starts to cross the road, but then he immediately stops in his tracks when he notices An isn’t walking alongside him.

“Oi, An, what are you doing—”

“I wanna watch,” An explains without really explaining anything, reaching out her uninjured hand to Akito’s wrist as she quickly drags him into a crowd.

Akito follows her line of sight and finds a young boy by the pavement with a microphone in his hand. His legs are shaking for dear life and his hands are clammy, clearly intimidated by the audience that’s beginning to surround him. The atmosphere is getting the best of him, Akito thinks to himself as the kid stumbles on his words. It’s clearly his first time performing in public. There’s no way the kid’s performance is going to end well; stage fright and lack of experience is a recipe for disaster and the kid unfortunately has both, and despite all that Akito can’t bring himself to take his eyes off him. There’s something about his sheer lack of experience that makes Akito see his younger self in him, reminding him of what it’s like to perform for the first time, hearing his own voice tremble through the speakers while holding back the urge to give up and run away.

—

There’s a cacophony of Thank you! and We hope to see you here again! when the young boy finishes his last song. A round of applause later, as the crowd disperses and he prepares to leave, An approaches the young boy. “Hey, that was pretty good!”

Clearly still caught up by the tension of his performance from earlier, the kid glances back-and-forth at An and Akito, his expression equal parts apprehensive and confused from a stranger suddenly walking up to him. Akito interjects to lighten the mood, “Be careful when talking to this woman. Remember what your parents say about talking to strangers.”

An shoots Akito a glare. “Shut the fu—” she abruptly cuts herself off when she realises there’s a child around. “Shut up, Akito.” Then she turns to the child with a huge beam as if she wasn’t about to cuss Akito out just seconds ago. “Was that your first performance? I haven’t seen you around! I’m Shiraishi An, nice to meet you!”

After they get pleasantries out of the way, they walk to a nearby park and spend the next hour talking idly about their lives and dreams and everything in between. Apparently the kid has never heard of Vivid Street before, and he seems completely enamoured in An and Akito’s stories of the people in there. An writes down the important details on a piece of paper she tore from one of her notebooks and hands it to the kid. “If you want to see us again, you know where to find us! We also attend that high school you see a few blocks away.”

Before they go their separate ways, Akito rummages through one of the grocery bags and hands the kid an extra pack of ice cream that he paid out of his pocket.

“Hey,” An pipes in with laughter in her voice, “don’t take random things from strangers. It might be poisoned.”

Akito sighs. “Don’t listen to her. Anyway, pop that in the freezer first before you eat it. That shit’s probably melted already— ow, An, what the fuck!” he winces when An pinches his arm.

“Language,” she scolds.

As they say their goodbyes, Akito kneels and looks at the kid straight in the eye, placing his hands on the kid’s shoulders. “Keep at it. Don’t give up. You’ll get better, I promise.”

This time, An and Akito take a different route home, one with the riverbank by a secluded footpath that’s a considerable distance away from the city’s bustle. A comfortable silence stretches between them, and nobody makes an effort to break it as they take the long way back to Vivid Street, their shadows stretching behind them as the last rays of sunset wash the city in gold. After a little while, Akito senses An shifting her gaze to his face, and his attention is brought back to the present.

“An, if you want to say something, just say it.”

She ponders briefly. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?”

“You were being really nice to him.”

“I’m nice to everyone.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

He doesn’t know why his first instinct is to deflect. “Christ, An. Were you expecting me to act shitty in front of a child?”

“Of course not. Don’t be stupid.” Her tone of finality shuts him up. “I don't know how to explain it, but… you opened up to him so fast? You never do that to just anyone.”

She’s seen him extremely polite with rookie musicians. She’s seen him become overly critical towards Kohane. She’s never seen him become open about himself to a first-timer, much less a kid. And Akito supposes she’s right.

Akito looks at the path ahead of him. He could pretend to put his focus on how Vivid Street is finally coming into view, but her eyes are stubborn and she deserves more than his silence.

“I saw myself in him,” Akito says. He tries to look at her as if he knows she’s going to understand, but in the reflected light of the sunset, the river behind An is so bright that looking at her is blinding. The tension in his gut winds itself tightly. “I remember being fucking terrified the first time I sang in front of a lot of people. It felt like shit. I wanted to run away.”

“Mm.”

“I am pretty sure that kid felt the same way… but I don’t want that fear to be the reason why he gives up without trying again.”

But the young boy probably didn’t need his encouragement to keep going. Kids always make it seem like achieving dreams is easy if they keep on trying, but Akito knows better. Persistence isn’t enough. Hard work isn’t enough. Having dreams isn’t enough. And sometimes Akito wishes he can live with the simple logic kids have, but he tries not to envy that, just like how he tried not to envy An and her abilities and her family and everything else about her back when he first saw her.

“Now that you mention it…” An pauses thoughtfully. Their path bends to the side, turning away from the river, and looking at An is no longer blinding him. Her eyes are seemingly fixed on Akito. “I guess you’re right? He does remind me of you somehow. I remember your first performance pretty well, it’s pretty amazing you got this far.” She falls silent for a while. When she speaks again, there’s disappointment in her tone and a little something he can’t pin down. “You know, back when I started looking for a partner, I actually considered asking you, but you managed to find a partner before I could gather the courage to approach you about it.”

It takes a while for him to find his voice. “Really?”

“Really.”

“You were watching me?”

“Well, yeah. It was hard not to. You were one of the only people in the area who was around my age and you had a steady improvement, so of course I would pay attention to you.”

But your skills were leagues beyond me, Akito thinks. As idealistic as it sounds to partner up with the most talented person his age, there’s no way it’s going to end well for the both of them with their lack of concept on what it truly means to be a partner. It won’t end well, he repeats to himself. Akito wouldn’t be standing beside her right now if that happened. He quickly turns away to hide the expression on his face. 

“If we became partners back then… I don’t think it would’ve worked out.”

An furrows her eyebrows. “What do you mean? You’re just as serious as I am about our goal. There is no way we would fail.”

She says that after a great deal of thought. He can’t bring himself to believe her.

“It’s not that simple,” he mumbles. An’s mouth twists like she wants to argue, but Akito keeps going. “You know I was far more inexperienced than you, so you’ll keep covering for my mistakes while I keep dragging you down.” His chest feels strangely tight. “You’ll always feel the need to protect me.”

She evaluates him. “Are you telling me I’ll just make the same mistake? Like what I did to Kohane?”

“Yeah.”

“But you were there to snap me out of it—”

“Because I now know what it means to be a teammate,” he cuts her off. “But I didn’t know better back then. I looked up to you. There’s no way I’ll point out what you did wrong. Hell, I don’t think I’ll even notice it. I’ll just assume you’re doing the right thing.” Akito doesn’t like how helpless he sounds. “So who is gonna tell you to get it together, if not me? Your customers? Koutarou? Ken-san?”

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself. An tenses up at the mention of her father.

Regret stabs in his chest. “Fuck. Sorry. I went overboard.”

An lowers her gaze and a shadow falls over her eyes. “No… it’s fine. You’re right,” she says, tone betraying nothing of what she feels.

An may have gotten angry at him a couple of times in the past, even to the point of shouting, but he’s always managed to look her in the eye. Now, he points his gaze ahead as they walk alongside each other, letting the sound of their footsteps and the rustling of orange trees filter around them. It’s far easier to not to think of what expression she’s wearing right now than to watch her pretend she’s alright.

—

Akito can’t understand why An is acting the same as usual. Somehow, she isn’t treating Akito any differently, at least not in practice and not in school. Probably the most difficult part is when he meets up with her to continue brainstorming for their new song. The silence between them is heavy and uncomfortable unlike before, and to make things worse, An keeps on bringing up a new topic before Akito could even have a chance to talk about what happened. It’s as if nothing changed between them and she’s completely forgotten about that conversation. Akito refuses to believe that, especially not when her expression was so painstakingly neutral that day.

He is growing familiar with the distance, but it doesn’t get any easier.

This is one of those times when Akito wishes Kohane and Touya weren’t so sharp. Unfortunately they quickly catch on, although it doesn’t seem like they plan on confronting him about it. Just give them enough time, Akito hears Touya whisper to Kohane while they’re taking a break from practice, they’ll reconcile when they can.

Except An and Akito can’t. It’s probably why Kohane and Touya left them alone the day of the school festival; before that, Mizuki bolted out to help Akito and Touya look for Tsukasa without exchanging phone numbers. Touya ends up finding Tsukasa a few minutes later in a classroom temporarily used as a props room, and then An and Kohane show up not after long. They chatter about the school festival for a while before Tsukasa announces his leave so he could prepare for the next run of their class play.

“Akito, Touya, I heard you’re decent at singing so I’ll enlist the both of you as my backup singers for my impromptu show at the night festival! Here’s the song I’ll need, see you all again tonight!” Tsukasa says out of the blue, already tapping away on his phone to send the song’s YouTube link to Akito and Touya through LINE, and then he’s gone like the wind.

Touya stares at the direction Tsukasa just left. “We’re going to be up on stage with Tsukasa-senpai…”

“Jesus. Tsukasa-senpai didn’t even ask us if we wanted to be part of it.” Akito glances at Touya’s starstruck expression. “Well. Touya’s a given, but I don’t want to.”

An tilts her head. “Isn’t that still a good thing, though? You’ll be participating in the night festival.”

“If you’re that enthusiastic about it, then switch places with me.”

“No thanks!” An’s beam is a touch too bright. “Break a leg, the both of you!”

“Only students here are allowed in the night festival, right?” Kohane asks. “I’ll be going home in a few hours. I really want to watch your performance, though…”

“Don’t you worry, Kohane~ I’m going to take a video for you.”

“Thank you, An-chan!”

“Please do, Shiraishi. Send it to me, too. Being up on stage with Tsukasa-senpai is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Akito frowns at the conversation unfolding before him. “Oi.”

Nobody pays mind to Akito’s disapproval. Soon enough the chatter dies down, and when the classroom becomes silent Kohane and Touya exchange a strange look and nod in unison.

“That reminds me, Azusawa,” Touya starts, “you mentioned earlier that you wanted to visit the cotton candy stalls, right? My class is in charge of it. I’ll bring you there.”

An perks up and turns away from Akito. “Can I go with you?”

“Ah! An-chan, it’s fine, really! We can get you cotton candy if you want some.” Kohane shakes her head and waves off her concerns. “You said you wanted to visit other classrooms during your break, right? There’s a lot of students lining up for cotton candy, so it’s probably better if your break isn’t spent waiting in line.”

An visibly deflates. Akito pointedly looks at Touya. “Oi, just let An go with you.”

“It’s alright, Akito. Shiraishi has the longest shifts out of all of us, she should enjoy herself while she can.” Touya ponders for a moment. “That reminds me, your shift doesn’t start until three, right? You can keep her company for now.”

Kohane and Touya share that look again, and Akito feels strangely left out of the loop. Before Akito could make sense out of the gesture, Touya nods and then steps out of the room with Kohane trailing behind him, leaving Akito and An all alone in the classroom.

An is staring holes at the door, arms folded, and even though her expression is placid Akito notices her shoulders are tense. At least she seems just as pleased with the arrangement as Akito is.

Akito sighs exasperatedly. “They both totally did that on purpose.”

“At least they’re getting us cotton candy, so it’s fine!” The smile is back on An’s face in no time. It doesn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s roam around for a bit, there are a few stalls I haven’t visited yet. Oh right, I haven’t eaten lunch yet. I bet you’re also starving. I saw a yakisoba stall near the entrance, what if we also get some for Kohane and Touya—”

An is about to make a beeline out of the classroom, but he grabs her wrist before she reaches for the door. “An.”

She flinches at the contact, although her smile doesn’t falter. “Oh, do you want to go somewhere else? You could’ve told me! I guess it’s my fault for getting carried away before asking you, though. Sorry about that. Where do you want to go?”

Akito doesn’t answer her question. “This is the only time I’m asking you this. Do you want to talk about it now? Or later? Or not at all?”

“Talk about what?”

“Jesus Christ, An. Just quit it already!”

An falls very, very quiet.

“Look, Touya and Kohane are doing us both a huge ass favour by not asking what happened between us because they trust the both of us enough to sort things out by ourselves. So unless you want them to continue worrying, do them a favour and stop acting dumb for once because this has been dragging for too long and trying to get you to talk to me is fucking tiring.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” An snaps. There’s a dark blaze in her eyes. “Stop bringing it up, then!”

“No.”

“But why? You said it’s…” Her breath splits into two. She lowers her gaze. “Fucking tiring.”

Her voice breaks like a shuttered window. His chest cracks open and bleeds.

“It really is. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop bothering you about it.”

She tries to break free from his grasp, but he only holds her tighter.

“Akito. Please.”

“Are you asking me to give up, or are you asking me to keep going?”

An pauses. The act she’s fixed in place ever since that day falls off, leaving her eyes downcast and her lips hesitant under the uncertain light. She falters in his grasp. “I don’t know.”

“But I do.” Akito takes in the lively bustle of the school festival outside the four walls of the classroom, and then he looks at An, who still refuses to meet him in the eye. “My bad. For what I said that time,” Akito says, the word sorry sitting horribly unfamiliar on his tongue.

“Do you even know what exactly you’re apologising for?”

“Honestly I got no fucking clue,” Akito admits. For all that he’s practised his apology in his head, his words don’t come out as smoothly as he would’ve liked. He’d been meaning to say it for a while, thinking that he’d be able to talk to An properly whenever they’re finally alone to continue composing. Akito never thought it would take this much effort to get her to talk to him, and he also finds it far more difficult to get the right words out. “But I’d rather not say shit like, I didn’t mean what I said, or, I wasn’t intending to hurt you, because it’s gonna sound like an excuse and I don’t want you to think I’m doing this just because I feel obligated to.”

Silence fills the room. “So you don’t know why you’re apologising to me.”

“Doesn’t make a damn difference if I do. I’ll feel like shit either way.”

“Mm, well. Remember when I told you that I feel like the other musicians only recognise me because I am his daughter? Even when they tell me I’m better than most people my age I still feel like I always have to prove myself so it doesn’t seem like I’m depending on my dad for everything. I don’t really like it when people tell me to rely on him, so when you brought him up… I guess it just got to me.”

“Sorry.” His own words ring hollow in his ears, but sorry is all he has and all the worse because he already knew all that about her from years of watching over her.

Akito also wants to think he’ll just be as headstrong as An even if he’s accompanied with the burden of being compared to someone else, but he’s seen it happen to Ena and it clearly didn’t end well. Ena is also stubborn but not in the way An is; Ena’s kind of stubborn is what Akito is most familiar with, but being used to it doesn’t mean it gets easier for him to watch Ena left with more pieces of herself to pick up every single time she struggles with something she refuses to tell him about.

The pessimist in Akito briefly wonders if An will ever get to the point where Ena is right now, but the small part of him that trusts her as a teammate wishes that An will stay the way she is — full of optimism and tenacity and intent on proving herself as her own person. She’s the type to wave off every compliment about how she’s — really Ken-san’s daughter! — and, most importantly, she never cuts corners. He respects her because he does things the exact same way.

“I’m sorry too,” An says quietly. The silence closes in around them again, intense but no longer uncomfortable. And she finally looks back at him. The set of her lips is certain and her eyes are perfectly clear. “I wasn’t lying earlier, though. I really want some yakisoba. Let’s go get some. Will you come with me?”

—

In hindsight, Akito should’ve been suspicious when his phone got bombarded with notifications the moment he woke up.

An: AKITO, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?????

Kohane: We’re supposed to have an emergency meeting today in WEEKEND GARAGE…

Touya: Ken-san closed the place for us, but not for long. Please come here ASAP. This is important. 

Kohane: I’m sorry, Shinonome-kun. I should’ve reminded you yesterday…

Touya: Don’t worry, Azusawa. It’s not your fault he forgot.

Kohane: ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò˶ ₎ა 

An: STOP WHATEVER YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW AND HURRY UP

An: THIS IS AN ACTUAL EMERGENCY!!!

Kohane: Oh, he finally saw our messages!

Akito double-checks the group calendar and there’s nothing in it. He has a feeling that the others were probably fucking with him, but he refuses to take his chances so he makes a run to WEEKEND GARAGE first thing in the morning.

It wasn’t an emergency meeting; it’s a small gathering with too much food on the table and multicoloured balloons all over the ceiling. Ken stands at the back, watching Touya, Kohane, and An blast party poppers right on Akito’s face with an intentionally off-key rendition of HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

Touya gives him a hoodie — You mentioned last week that one of your hoodies got all messed up in the dryer so I thought I’d get you another one as a present, Touya tells him, and Akito carefully tries not to point out the price tag with the huge numbers deliberately blocked out by cheap, black marker. Kohane hands him a mini scrapbook filled with polaroid films — I know we have all of the pictures in our group chat, but I wanted to try my hand at scrapbooking! And then An gives him some rastaclat bracelets — I definitely asked you what you wanted for your birthday but you didn’t answer my question, don’t blame me if you don’t like it.

Just as Akito is processing the entire situation, everyone is singing him a Happy Birthday again — properly, this time — but then An gets hit with a bad headache and throws up right on his goddamn birthday cake, and whatever lyrics are left in the birthday song gets lost in chaos.

Touya decides to help Ken out on cleaning up the mess while Kohane makes her way to An’s room to get her a change of clothes. Somehow Kohane has the entire thing filmed, so before Akito drags An to the bathroom, they all create an unspoken agreement that the video of the fiasco is strictly only allowed in their group chat.

“Is this your idea of a birthday surprise?” Akito jokes as he kneels beside her on the cool bathroom tiles. “You did a damn good job at surprising me. Nobody’s gonna top this.”

“Shut up, I didn’t think I was going to be this sick—”

An curls further into the toilet. Akito reaches his hands out to tie up her hair with a scrunchie wrapped on her wrist, but it’s only when he touches her forehead that he notices she’s burning up. He clicks his tongue. “You fucking idiot, you have a fever. Why did you not tell us?”

“Because it’s your birthday!” she reasons, voice hoarse and worn out.

“We can celebrate it another day. We can’t have you puking all over the food. Also, Ken-san told me earlier that this happens to you whenever you push yourself too hard.” Akito pulls up his shirt to his nose to cover up the smell as another wave of nausea hits her, then reaches out his other hand to rub comforting circles on her back. “You were working too hard during the school festival. Don’t pull that shit again.”

He says that, but he knows she’s stubborn. It’s just the kind of person she is. Akito hands her the glass of water sitting by the sink as soon as she’s done with her business. After she empties the glass of water, her eyes slowly flit to his, half-lidded in fatigue. “I’ll try.”

Akito takes a proper look at her and realises that he’s always paid attention to her, but he never really knew her. He noticed the past few weeks that Kohane and Touya were telling her not to push it. Don’t overwork yourself or else you’re going to fall sick again, one of them would warn her, and An would brush them off like what she did to Akito during rehearsals in Class 2-A. Not once has it crossed Akito’s mind that they both meant that literally — and now that he is looking at her like this, eyes puffy and face messy with tear tracks and snot and whatever remains of what she just threw up, Akito could only think of how Kohane and Touya saw her like this first, even though he’s known An longer than they did.

It’s not supposed to bother him. Akito and An both know the same people, have the same connections, but he did not put in the effort to know her as much as he should. Akito cannot — doesn’t want to — reveal too much of himself to just anyone. An is different. She always wears her heart on her sleeve and she reciprocates the desire for connection to those who want to grow close to her. That’s probably the reason why they could only seem to talk to each other properly when they’re alone: An has her own circle, and so does Akito.

There’s a feeling he hasn’t named yet that’s simmering into place. It’s already clear to him, and he should’ve acknowledged it if he could just—

“You look disgusting,” Akito says at last, his words more fond than they have any right to be. He grabs some tissue paper and gently wipes her face. His other hand continues rubbing circles on her back while she leans her forehead on the crook of his neck.

—

After the birthday party in WEEKEND GARAGE, his family goes out for lunch in a family restaurant they used to frequent. His mother brings out the cake she prepared the night before, and Akito makes a wish on sixteen candles. A memory surfaces as they all have a pleasant meal for the first time in a while; their father has Akito on his lap and Ena on his side, and they both watch in unadulterated glee as their father paints delicate strokes on the canvas, the pitter patter of morning rain filtering around them. It’s before their father became the way he is, and before Ena and Akito started to drift apart — a time Akito almost doesn’t want to remember.

When they head home, everything is back to how it usually is; Ena goes straight to her room, their mother takes some calls from work, and their father sits in the living room with the news channel running on the television. Akito heads back to his room, too, but he stops in his tracks when he spots something huge and rectangular by his doorstep. It’s barely noticeable, but he spots Ena’s signature at the bottom right corner of the gift wrapped in a plain orange wrapper.

It’s a canvas. He hasn’t gotten one from her in years.

Hurriedly, Akito enters his room, his movements slow and deliberate as he carefully unwraps the gift; it’s a painting of him and Touya and Kohane and An in Crase Cafe, their notebooks sprawled all over the table as dappled sunlight peeks through the glass windows. It’s odd. It’s familiar and warm. It’s the same picture Touya took of everyone, the same picture Kohane placed in the first page of the scrapbook she gave him, the same picture An set as her phone wallpaper.

He doesn’t know how Ena took a hold of this photo, although he can practically hear Ena in his head grumbling as she tries to finish this piece just in time for his birthday: That dumb Akito, he doesn’t want me to go to WEEKEND GARAGE, and now there’s another cafe he refuses to tell me about!

Akito isn’t sure how he should thank her. She might brush it off like she usually does. Or maybe the conversation will turn awkward, and they’ll be forced to drop it because the both of them aren’t good at communicating without hurting each other. For now, he pulls up his phone to check if Ena’s art account has been updated with a new piece. He normally has his notifications turned off, except for Vivid BAD SQUAD and for Ena.

Ena has never told him about her art account. But her online handle is too reminiscent of her real name, and he recognises the harsh, unyielding strokes of her brush. He stares at the new piece — a sliver of sunlight peeking from the dark, grey clouds — and then he composes a thoughtful comment under a dummy account. Akito will never tell her it’s him. Her mood turns a little brighter, and whatever happiness he could offer that doesn’t involve a conversation between them that would inevitably lead to an argument, he will give it to her.

—

After losing against Touno Arata for the first time, Akito drowns himself in solo practices.

But you’ve honestly been a disappointment, Arata’s voice rings in his mind every time a tune doesn’t come out the way he wants it to. I was hoping for more since Ken-san spoke so highly of your team. And you’re the least interesting of the bunch.

The worst part is, Arata is right.

Akito is no genius. He knows that better than anyone. He doesn’t have pure talent like Touya and Kohane and An. It’s obvious how other musicians talked behind Akito’s back then because it seemed like he was feeding off Touya’s talents, even though Touya seemed to think otherwise.

Practice with Touya isn’t enough. Practice with Vivid BAD SQUAD isn’t enough. The only way Akito could get somewhere is if he works twice as hard as everybody else, and then a hundred times over.

Akito drops by Street SEKAI for solo practice, but he doesn’t visit Crase Cafe like he usually does; he goes straight to an empty basketball court a couple of alleyways down. He is sure the other virtual singers feel his presence whenever he enters, and they probably already figured out that there’s something wrong, but they’re careful not to broach the topic. We’re here to guide you, not to tell you what you should do, MEIKO tells him gently as she lays a plate of cheesecake and a mug of hot cocoa on a nearby bench. Akito tries not to look at her as she speaks. He has no idea what expression he is wearing, and he doesn’t want MEIKO to see him in this state. But if there’s something that’s bothering you, remember that we are more than willing to lend you an ear.

Sometimes it’s Miku who drops by, inviting him for a casual basketball match even though she knows Akito would say no. KAITO brings him some snacks every now and then, saying they’re from the nearby store that just opened a few blocks down from Crase Cafe. And there’s Len and Rin to check up on him, and they usually do their own thing by bringing their own board games. Most of the time it’s just the two of them playing. Sometimes, they’re with Miku and KAITO. Very rarely, there’s MEIKO, too, who often becomes the reason behind a heated game of Monopoly.

Even when it’s already late at night, Akito remains in Street SEKAI where it’s hard to keep track of time from the eternal daylight. There are nights when Touya accompanies Akito so he could study in peace, chiding Akito to finish his assignments after he’s done with solo practice. Every now and then, Kohane wakes up in the middle of the night, and Akito takes some time off from his solo practice to sit down and chat with her until she feels like falling asleep again. And at nights Akito stays up too long, there’s An who wakes up early in the morning to help Ken out on setting up WEEKEND GARAGE, dropping by Street SEKAI just to remind him to go to sleep.

Everyone is fussing over him. Akito is holding everyone back, he’s lagging behind his studies. And just when he finally feels like he’s figured his shit out after going against Arata alongside Vivid BAD SQUAD—

“Akito?!”

A sea of panic rushes over him as his surroundings turn black.

—

Excessive fatigue, the doctor reports in his hospital room a few hours after he’s come to, You’ll be fine after a few days of rest.

Except it’s not. Akito also damaged his vocal cords from pushing himself too hard, and it’ll take him at least three to four weeks to completely recover if he’s lucky. 

Akito is not as upset about the outcome as he thought he would be. He already saw it coming from a mile away, although he’s not any less frustrated that he cannot participate in events and group practices until he’s fully recovered.

So when he gets discharged a few days later, he distracts himself for a while. He spends more time subbing in for the soccer club after school, takes in more shifts at his part-time job, and he drops by Crase Cafe once in a while to mess with KAITO’s sampler. His early morning alarm still goes off but it’s no longer for voice warm-ups; it’s replaced with his morning run, a routine he had back when his world was infinitely smaller with soccer practices to attend and interschool competitions to win.

Hanasato Minori takes the same route for her jogs, so they both cross paths pretty often. Surprisingly, she can keep up with him — Akito suspects Minori has a lot more stamina than he does — and somewhere along the way, they’re sharing stories about each other; Minori is a member of an indie idol group called MORE MORE JUMP! (the only reason why Akito recognised the name is because it’s a common topic between An and Mizuki during lunchtime), and when Akito brings up Vivid BAD SQUAD, Minori’s eyes light up in recognition. So you’re one of Kohane-chan’s teammates, right? Thank you for taking care of her! What is she like outside school?

When Minori brings up the members of the idol group she is a part of, he mentions how Momoi Airi was one of Ena’s close friends, and then he accidentally slips in that Haruka and An are childhood best friends, and in a matter of twenty minutes of Minori’s rambling, Akito swears he knows more about Haruka than all her fan pages combined.

The first time Mochizuki Honami is with them, Minori and Honami are accompanied by their dogs. Akito quickly steps aside before Shibao could come closer to sniff him, the memory of the dog biting him from years ago creeping into him, and Honami turns to him with her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong, Shinonome-kun?”

“Nothing,” he abruptly replies, and his words don’t sound convincing in his own ears, either.

Minori just silently stares at him as if she can see right through him, her hand steady as Samo-chan keeps jumping around his leash excitedly, and all the worse because there’s not a smidge of doubt on her face as she says, “You’re scared of dogs.”

It wasn’t even a question. Akito finds himself withering under Minori’s steadfast gaze and Honami’s worried expression, and he ends up confessing a few moments later like he just committed the greatest sin ever known to man, “Yeah, I’m fuckin’ terrified of them.”

From that admission, Minori and Honami are careful not to get their dogs too close to Akito as they jog on the same path, but it’s difficult when their dogs somehow take an immediate liking to him, and at that moment Akito thinks that An is probably right about him giving off crazy strong animal hormones even though he knows she was just joking about it. Once, Akito sits on a bench to keep watch of everyone’s belongings as Minori and Honami head to a nearby vending machine, and Samo-chan and Shibao curl snugly onto both of his sides as they wait for their owners to return. That doesn’t really change anything; Akito is still deathly terrified of dogs, but Samo-chan and Shibao are probably the only exceptions. He can handle them as long as they’re not overexcited.

Akito tells his team not to bother visiting the boutique he works at. Spend that time practising for your next event instead, Akito scolds, but more often than not they drop by for a quick chat. Touya pretends to comb over the clothing racks to look like an interested customer, Kohane genuinely asks for recommendations and sometimes ends up buying more clothes, and An isn’t even subtle in trying to make conversation with him.

Akito turns to the door from the sound of wind chimes. “Welcome— oh. An. It’s you.”

“That’s not how you treat a customer!”

“As if you’re gonna buy something.”

“Ah, cut me some slack for once, will you?” An pretends to complain, even though this isn’t the first time, and this will certainly not be the last. “Practice feels a bit lonely without you.”

On days Touya gets extra tickets from Tsukasa, he invites Akito and Mizuki into Phoenix Wonderland with him after school. Akito suspects this is just Touya’s way of cheering him up while he is recovering so he can’t find it in himself to refuse. After his club activities, he heads to the library to wait for Touya to finish his library committee duties before they head out. Akito looks over the library window from his seat, and then he spots Rui and Tsukasa in the courtyard with a contraption that Akito swears is about to explode any second.

“What the hell are they doing?” someone voices out his thoughts from somewhere. He turns around to see Nene. Tsukasa yells something to Rui, and Nene frowns. “I can hear Tsukasa from here.”

Akito doesn’t talk to Nene too often, but it’s at this moment he decides that he likes her. “Do you have to deal with this everyday?”

“You get used to it,” Nene says. “Doesn’t make him any less annoying, though.”

“I feel bad for you.”

“Don’t be.”

Right as she says that, the contraption explodes; a portion of Tsukasa’s hair is singed, but before he could even say anything, An runs into the courtyard and lightly scolds the two of them for not following the school regulations. Akito briefly thinks to himself it’s not like An to do that; she usually joins in the fun, but then he remembers she’s part of the disciplinary committee and he quickly dismisses the thought.

As the two of them clean up their mess, An’s gaze shifts to the library windows. She waves at Nene and mouths a, God I’m so tired please help me, at Akito.

Akito raises a finger. An raises two of her own.

The courtyard is quickly cleaned up, and a few minutes later Rui and Tsukasa also enter the library. Tsukasa takes a seat and brings out a sewing kit from his bag, and before Akito could ask him why the hell he has a sewing kit with him to school, Rui hands Tsukasa a shirt full of holes. “This shirt originally has a bunch of holes and I tried to cut more, but I messed up. Do you mind if you sew the holes back on, Tsukasa-kun? Oh, right, keep the original holes open, if you please. I’m counting on you.”

Nene places a console case on the table that looks like it has seen better days. “You know what to do. Good luck, Tsukasa.”

Rui and Nene bid them goodbye, saying something about heading first to the Wonder Stage to prepare for the next show. As soon as they’re out, someone else bursts into the library. “Tsukasa-kun! Big trouble!”

The library committee members loudly shush the newcomer, and when the room quiets down, she tiptoes her way to their table. She’s wearing the same uniform Kohane wears, except Kohane’s visits are a lot less conspicuous, and very few and far in between. Tsukasa doesn’t seem the least bit surprised by her sudden appearance. Akito absentmindedly wonders if she has ever been caught by the teachers before.

“So!” she starts, “Tsukasa-kun, there’s this—”

“Emu, keep it down!” Tsukasa loudly scolds.

“Senpai, you keep it down too!” Akito whispers.

Emu turns to Akito, and her beam is so bright it’s almost blinding. “Ah! You were in our show last time! Thank you for watching us!” Emu pauses. “You’re…?”

He’s a bit surprised that she remembered him. That was only one time. “Shinonome Akito.”

Emu tilts her head. “Shino…?”

“Shinonome.”

“Yup, I got it now!” Emu pumps her fists to the air with a huge beam plastered on her face. “Shinononome-kun!”

“…Just Akito is fine.”

“Akito-kun! Wonderhoy!” Emu waves her hands gleefully in the air, and she looks at him expectantly like she wants him to repeat after her.

Akito nervously glances at Tsukasa. He mouths, Am I supposed to say it back?

This is the first time he’s seen Tsukasa this exasperated. “Do what you want.”

Akito mumbles the greeting and thankfully that seems to satisfy her. She turns to Tsukasa, handing him a torn light pink handkerchief. Akito can vaguely make out Emu’s explanation amidst all the sound effects she’s making — did the handkerchief get caught on a branch? — and then Emu is gone like the wind before Akito could make sense of it.

As soon as Emu is out of the library, Tsukasa inspects the shirt Rui gave him that has a bunch of holes, a puzzled expression on his face. “Where do I even start with this…? This is beyond me.” Tsukasa sighs. “They act like I can sew for them all the time! I am not their personal tailor! They better be thankful I do this free of charge!”

“Inside voice, senpai.”

“They’re all so troublesome…” Tsukasa whispers this time. He takes Nene’s console case first and starts to sew the parts that are beginning to fray. They fall into idle conversation: what was up with that thing Kamishiro-senpai made that exploded earlier, does Otori-san come to Kamikou often, what is the next show gonna be about— holy shit senpai THERE’S A CENTIPEDE ON YOUR SHOULDER.

“WHAT? WHERE?!” Tsukasa jumps in panic, eyes darting to his shoulders. Akito chuckles at Tsukasa’s reaction, and it takes a few seconds before realisation dawns on him. Tsukasa pouts. “Akito, I am not falling for that again!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Akito apologises while not feeling apologetic in the slightest. “I’ll be quiet this time, I swear.”

Tsukasa throws Akito a wary look before he returns to what he’s doing. He’s now completely focused on embroidering a mini robot on Nene’s console case, and there’s something about the unusual sight that Akito comes up with the sudden, first of its kind thought: he’s probably beginning to understand why Touya and Mizuki and the rest of Tsukasa’s troupemates have taken a liking to him. Tsukasa is earnest in all the ways he can be, something not a lot of people have, and Akito understands because he also knows what it’s like. To be so dedicated that nothing else can get in the way.

Later that night, he tunes into a livestream of MORE MORE JUMP! — he typically doesn’t since Minori always fills him in on the details during their morning run, but he makes an exception this time since the livestream is a collaboration with a popular online streamer and Minori seemed particularly excited about it, too.

The livestream… isn’t what he expected it to be. There are a lot of scathing comments about Minori even before she got introduced, and it’s painfully obvious that the others were trying to get her spirits up after her mishap, but the damage was already done and there’s nothing that could stop people from being overly critical. Akito checks the MORE MORE JUMP! channel after the livestream with Nanamin ended and combs through the comments in their older videos. Their treatment towards Minori isn’t any better.

Minori told him a lot about MORE MORE JUMP!’s past livestreams, but she hasn’t told him anything about this.

He still sees Minori the next morning, but she’s glum and her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. She tells him how the livestream with Nanamin went, carefully leaving out the bad parts to not bring the mood down. Akito doesn’t let her know he watched the livestream. It’s probably better that way. Although he still makes sure to tell her, slow and deliberate, “You look like shit, Hanasato. Are you really alright?” before she breaks.

“I’m not even worried about making a mistake in front of people, I do that all the time,” she finally tells him, her voice the most vulnerable he’s ever heard from her. “It’s just… I always give it my all, but I always end up letting everyone down.”

Akito looks back on how the other musicians talked behind his back when he and Touya were just starting out as BAD DOGS, and then there’s that face-off against Arata. Minori feels it too, to be the least interesting of the bunch, and he develops a sense of kinship with her.

The pessimist in Akito wonders if Minori will be able to hold onto her determination the longer she stays in the industry, but the small, battered, hopeful part in him wishes she remains that way, even though her optimism is so intense it hurts to watch her sometimes. Because if Minori is able to stand back up after all the backlash, then maybe he can, too.

—

“Akito? Why are you still awake?”

It’s four in the morning, and An enters the balcony from her room, hair dishevelled and voice thick from sleep. Akito is staying over An’s place for the night to finish up their new song. Halfway through the last verse, An has fallen asleep, so he carries her to her bed and goes to her balcony, makes himself breathe. Remembers why he doesn’t want to stay at home tonight. Thinks of when he is going to hold a microphone again.

Akito didn’t realise it’s already been a couple of hours.

He steps aside as she leans on the railing beside him. “I don’t feel tired,” he says.

“Mm, I know it’s the weekend so we don’t have class, but isn’t your part-time job super early on Saturdays?”

“I’ll sleep better for a couple minutes here than eight hours at home.” Akito thinks of ceramic shattering against the wall and nails dragging down his skin. The wounds aren’t even that deep, but somehow it hurts far more than usual. “Don’t worry about me.”

Her gaze softens. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this, not after years of faraway glances in live houses and in WEEKEND GARAGE. His chest feels tight.

“Did something happen?”

“Just another argument with Ena,” he says. “Nothing too big.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Akito pauses. It comes out far more standoffish than he would’ve liked. His throat feels dry. “My bad. It’s just.” He makes himself breathe, again. Pushes down the unease in his gut. “I don’t remember exactly what we fought over.”

And he really doesn’t. He isn’t sure what the argument was about, anymore. Just the red, hazy mess in his head as Ena’s face twists with anger and other things she said that she’s probably holding in for a while: you can’t even sing right now but you still have everything, it’s not fair, how come you always have someone you can turn to, you’re lucky you’ll never understand what it’s like to be alone. Akito wants to believe that he thinks his words through even when they’re both yelling at each other, but the only way he could get rid of his anger if he can’t contain it any longer is to throw it back to her. He’s sure he knows Ena better than anybody else does, but maybe he has lost some of his ability to read Ena over the years, because there are times when the only way for him to learn that he said something hurtful to her is if she tells him.

That’s the problem, though. She never does, at least until her downward spiral blows out of proportion and they both get hurt. And thinking about it wouldn’t make them both any less distant, so he tries to focus on something else. He thinks about the way he showed up at An’s doorstep just a couple hours ago, unannounced. He thinks about how they rushed to a nearby conbini to get him toiletries, he thinks about their mundane gossip in between lyrics, about how her bathroom mirror isn’t designed for two people and they both had to squeeze in the small space just so they can share the sink. An, chill out a bit on brushing your teeth. That’s a toothbrush, not a toothscrubber, he joked. Fuck off, it’s still doing the job. And is it really that fun to watch me brush my teeth? An scowled at him, but Akito knew she didn’t mean it. And then they used up an expensive face pack that she got from one of Ken’s old friends from abroad, making a poor attempt at a mini facial spa with her worn out bean bag couches.

“I’m not sure if I should tell you this,” An starts, uncharacteristically loud, startling him out of his thoughts. “But it was me who sent that photo to your sister.”

“What photo?”

“The one she painted for your birthday,” she says, and the question sitting in the backburner about how Ena got a hold of a picture of the four of them in Crase Cafe finally clicks to him, like a gear in place. “Well, more like, she asked Mizuki, and then Mizuki asked me, and then I sent it to her. She made me swear not to tell you, though, so just don’t let her know that I told you about it.”

A new frame hanging on the wall of his room drifts into memory. “I won’t tell her.”

“Good.”

A comfortable silence settles between them as they lean on the railing, elbow to elbow. The people in Vivid Street are beginning to wake up, and there’s a far-off sound of a door opening from the hallway as Ken goes downstairs, and that seems to bring An’s attention back to him as she shifts her gaze from the sky to his face.

“Say, when are you coming back to practice?”

“In a few weeks, maybe. Or at least that’s the best case scenario.”

An furrows her eyebrows. “That still doesn’t sound good.”

“It shouldn’t matter much,” Akito mumbles, pointing his gaze ahead so he can’t see her expression. “Vivid BAD SQUAD’s performance is still pretty good even when I’m not around. Having three members is probably for the best. It’ll be easier to figure out how to balance each other’s voices out with fewer people.”

An falls quiet at that, stares straight at him like she can see something he couldn’t. Akito really hates how easily she can read him when it comes to the things he wants to hide from her the most. He wants to think that it feels a bit unfair, but that isn’t really the case when it’s also the same the other way around.

“Akito, don’t say that.”

But — it’s impossible not to. Every time his phone alarm sets off at the usual time of their practice, every time he sees the rest of Vivid BAD SQUAD on the stage without him, a gear shifts in his chest. He finds out it’s the same feeling he gets every time An laughs at one of Arata’s jokes, and every time An shares her music recommendations to Koutarou.

Practice feels a bit lonely without you, An’s visit to the boutique replays in his mind, and he finds himself thinking, I want to go there. I want to be there.

“I meant what I said,” he ends up saying instead. “It is what it is; my voice isn’t gonna heal any time soon and it’s not like I can do anything about it for now.”

“Maybe you’re right.” An pauses, eyes suddenly full of concern, and it’s so sincere it’s almost blinding. “But, did you know? There was a time when dad didn’t sing for a while.”

Akito blinks. “Really? Ken-san?”

“Yeah, just like you, though dad didn’t exactly lose his voice or anything… well. Dad got burned out from putting on a lot of events, so he just… stopped.” She folds her hands into each other. “Other musicians kept on visiting, asking him when he’ll come back, but dad told me once that even he doesn’t know when he will feel like singing again. He probably considered retiring that time, or maybe he didn’t. He never told me, but it’s not as if I asked him about it, either.” Her eyes are looking somewhere far away, somewhere Akito can’t see. “Dad’s next performance was a year later. His singing was still as good as he was before he took a break, maybe even better.” An’s eyes are finally clear when they flick back to him. “You said your voice will completely heal in a few weeks, right? You’ll be back before you know it, so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

Time stops. He stares at An, her words replaying over and over in his head like a broken record until that’s the only thing he could think of. It takes a long moment of silence before he finds his voice.

“Shit. You could at least warn me first before you say all that,” Akito mumbles as his forehead falls onto her shoulder.

An tenses up from the action but she quickly recovers, and he can feel her shoulder relaxing as she hugs him. He probably should pull away, but all he does is lean into her with his fists in his pockets, nails digging crescents on his palm just so he doesn’t get the urge to circle his arms around her as she holds him.

“Does your sister know you like her gift?” she asks while rubbing small, soothing circles on his back.

“Should it really matter?”

“Hmm, maybe it doesn’t. But I want to know.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.” There’s a pause, then she adds, “Do you want me to stop asking?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he says. “It’s. Well. She probably knows, but I haven’t really said anything to Ena.”

“Then tell her you liked it.”

Akito isn’t sure how long they stay that way, but by the time they pull away from each other, the first tinge of sunrise is colouring the horizon, her irises burning from the warm golden of the sky reflecting off her eyes. They decide to put off their new song for another day, and she goes downstairs to help Ken out on setting up WEEKEND GARAGE. Akito bids them both goodbye as he walks back home, sending Ena a text to unlock the door for him. Not even a few minutes pass until she replies, There’s extra pancakes on the table. I accidentally made too much for myself.

When he arrives home, the lights are turned off and everybody is still in their rooms, but the kitchen is warm and there’s the smell of batter. He finds a plate of pancakes on the dining table just as Ena said and there’s also a cup of coffee on the side. Rather than scraps from Ena’s early morning snacking, it feels more like an unspoken apology.

Thanks, Akito replies. That’s all he is supposed to text her, but his thumbs are led by pure impulse and he continues typing. Also, about your gift…

He pauses. Contemplates between pressing backspace and biting the bullet. But then his message is already marked as seen, and Ena is only going to pester him to finish what he was saying if he stopped now. Tell her you liked it, An’s voice rings in his mind. He presses on. I have it on my wall.

The typing… bar shows up immediately, but it quickly disappears, and just when Akito thought the conversation was over, the ellipsis pops up again. This time, the silence lasts longer, as if she’s thinking through her words just as much as he is. Trying to be careful of what to say unlike last night.

As you should, she says at last. It’s too pretty for you to not hang it up.

—

Nothing really changes after that. He still wakes Ena up early in the morning before he leaves for school, and sometimes he leaves her breakfast by her door if she’s not yet awake. He still spends a lot of time at his part-time job and the soccer club. He still joins Minori and Honami in their morning run. He spends some days after school with Touya trying out new flavours of cookies at a nearby bakeshop, and then he makes a habit to take a picture of the first rays of sunrise after his early morning warm-ups for Kohane. Outside practices, Touya and Kohane help him and An catch up with their lessons before finals. He still comes over An’s house to spend the night writing lyrics; but right now, it’s An who visits the Shinonome residence on a whim, all because she had a huge burst of inspiration and it can’t wait until the next day.

It’s already past midnight when they drop by the conbini for snacks. Akito is holding a basket with An’s toiletries as she stays over for the night. Akito peers at An closely, taking in the bags under her eyes, brows furrowed and lips set in a thin line as she makes a life changing decision on what ice cream flavour she should get, and he bites back a laugh with a hopeless rush of affection.

The fierce drive in him that pushes him forward every time he holds a microphone surges up, intense and deep and burning. Akito reaches out to her, spurred by the tender impulse, and clasps her hand on his own.

The sudden contact catches her off guard. Her eyes are wide as she looks at him. “Akito?”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Akito says, more to himself than to her, because he’s never really thought of what he should tell her at a time like this. His mouth moves on its own accord and he hopes she understands what he wants to tell her. “You can let go if you want, I’ll… get the idea.”

He is holding her hand, but he is not holding her. His hand will fall back to his side if her grip on him loosens just a little bit; he is giving her the choice to pull away, but he honestly doesn’t want her to.

Her fingertips are cold and her expression is open. It could mean anything. “Akito, your hand is shaking.”

Your hand is also shaking, dumbass, he doesn’t say. “Shut up. I’m doing this scared.”

And he really is. Akito can feel his hands growing clammy, but he can’t find it in himself to pull away, at least not when he’s the one who held her first. Akito wishes he thought this through instead of acting on instinct. He could’ve saved it for a time when he is more prepared, like on an event night, riding in the high of a successful performance. At the very least, he hadn’t imagined himself opening up to her on a school night, much less in the middle of finals week. She’s wearing bootleg Hello Kitty pyjamas that Mizuki got her as a joke. He’s not really any better with the fading Gundam print plastered on his stained T-shirt.

“Well, I am, too. So that makes the two of us.” An’s eyes dart back to the glass refrigerator, tone unchanged and expression painstakingly neutral, but when Akito holds her tightly, there’s a small pause in her breathing that undermines her feigned calmness. “Help me pick a flavour first, will you?”

You fucking idiot, I’m not going to make fun of you if you’re nervous, Akito thinks as he watches her falter. I’m just as nervous as you are.

But then she laces her fingers around his, slow and gentle, and the world rushes back in him.

She’s right. They can talk about this later; they have to buy everything they need, and they have to do the finishing touches for the song they were working on last time, and there’s finals to deal with. And after that, Akito’s voice will be completely healed and he can join the others in performances again.

For now, Akito turns to the glass refrigerator with her palm warm and steady against his. “Sure.”