Chapter Text
Mafuyu thought that it was a terrible shame that time passes the same in SEKAI as it does in real life. If that was the case, she would have spent ages there, watching the infinite overcast gray move east forever while lying on the ground. Away from the choking atmosphere of home and school, away from people who either didn’t know or didn’t care about how she really felt.
But of course, she also knew that these infantile thoughts had no place in real life. There was no time. In between the tutoring, school activities, and late-night voice calls with her music circle, there was always something to be done. But occasionally when she would put down her pen and lean back in her chair, she’d entertain those thoughts again. A general discomfort would seep in. But then a classmate or teacher or Mom would call out, and she would brush off whatever concerns they had and return to work. A snap of the reins, and since Mafuyu Asahina was a good girl, she’d move forward.
She remembered envying her classmates who would laugh and chase each other down the halls, careless of the rules and everyone else around them. Clearly they had something which she had not. After years of reasoning without any satisfactory answers, she came to the conclusion that perhaps it was something that she simply lacked. Much like how a person could be born blind or born without a conscience, perhaps she was born without the ability to enjoy such simple pleasures. So she stopped caring, and dodged the bodies barreling by like irresponsible cyclists on the sidewalk. They mattered little to her, and besides the hundreds of academic questions they would have of her, she probably didn’t matter very much to them. She’d answer her questions, they’d thank her, and they would retreat back to their circle of friends. That’s the way it always had been. And after years, Mafuyu suspected that would be the way it always would be.
A series of footfalls. Mafuyu opened her eyes and sat up from where she lay against the cool ground to see Hatsune Miku. She was wearing a light pink fleece jacket over her usual clothes, at Mizuki’s insistence. Either Miku did not know how to change clothes herself or did not care, because Mizuki had to forcibly get Miku to wear something else every time they came to the SEKAI. Otherwise, Miku would probably wander the empty expanse until the end of time with the last thing she wore.
Miku came right by Mafuyu’s side. “Can I sit next to you?” she asked.
Mafuyu shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
Miku sat, and they both gazed out over at the horizon — a single dark line in the distance where it cut across two halves of gray. While it took A Future Written As Regret to enter the SEKAI, nothing was heard here, not even the backing instrumentals. Usually Mizuki would be teasing Ena over something, and their voices would echo all over. Miku might be singing a tune Kanade had made. And from the silence, her music group would be making a ruckus out of nothing at all.
Mafuyu thought it was telling how quiet the SEKAI got when it was just her and Miku. Two fools sitting in silence, only talking when asked a question or being told to do something. Mafuyu noticed the shoulder of Miku’s jacket begin to slip off and fixed it for her.
“Thank you,” Miku said.
Mafuyu hummed. A question came up in her mind. “What would you do if none of us ever came back to this SEKAI?”
Miku said nothing at first, giving no inclination that she ever heard Mafuyu’s question. After a pause, she replied, “This SEKAI will always be here for someone who needs it to find their true feelings.”
“Yes, but what will you do?”
“I would wait.”
“By yourself?”
Miku turned her attention to the sky. “There is always someone who needs help with sorting out their true feelings. I would not be alone.”
Mafuyu thought that the virtual singer before her who could hardly even dress herself wouldn’t be of much use to very many people at all. What could this Miku offer to others, anyways?
Still, the answer managed to annoy her somewhat. Why it did, Mafuyu could not answer.
She stood up. “I should head home,” Mafuyu said, and pulled out her phone to pause A Future Written As Regret .
Miku smiled, still seated. “Take care, Asahina-san. I hope to see you soon.”
Mafuyu could only notice how Miku’s pink jacket had slipped off her shoulders again, and the gray landscape vanished with a flurry of polygons.
—
Mizuki had asked in the past whether it was difficult for Mafuyu to keep up appearances for such long periods of time. It was during one of their late-night calls, when Ena was snoring softly into her mic and Kanade was unresponsive — probably deep in composing like usual.
“No, it’s not hard,” Mafuyu said.
“Hm, really?” Mizuki said. “I can understand following your parents when you’re at home, but I don’t know if I could do it like you do: in classes, school activities, tutoring, and everywhere else — except here.”
It wasn’t a question, so Mafuyu was content in letting that thread of conversation die, but Kanade suddenly unmuted herself. “Do you think — feel anything when you have to do something you don’t want to do?”
Mafuyu tried grasping into the void to scrounge up an answer, but found nothing. “I don’t know. I just do whatever is asked.”
A pause. “I see,” Kanade said. “If you do ever figure out a reason, can you tell us?”
“Alright.”
“Thanks, Yuki.” Mafuyu could imagine the smile on Kanade’s face as she said that. She didn’t understand why Kanade asked these kinds of probing questions, but if it made her happy, she’d answer any of them. Even if it was always “I don’t know.”
—
Mafuyu returned not a second too late. By the time she opened her eyes to see her bedroom again, Mom barged inside.
“Mafuyu, it’s dinnertime—what are you doing?” Mafuyu took this to mean, “Why aren’t you at your desk, studying?”
“I needed to stretch a little.” The lie came out easily.
“Alright,” she said, mollified. “Come on down, Dad’s waiting on you.”
Dinner was a hearty curry rice with strawberries for dessert. At best, the curry was a little spicy, and the strawberries were no different than watermelon rinds. She went through the everyday gauntlet as per usual: How was school? (good, got a test back with the highest score in the class) How was archery? (good, but the winter winds make it hard to aim) and How was that book which Father got? (didn’t get to go past the first chapter, was busy yesterday)
Then Dad would rub her hair and say how lucky he was to have such a smart daughter like her and promise to keep working at his office just as hard as Mafuyu was. And Mom would say she would have to keep cooking delicious meals for her hardworking daughter so that she’d have the energy to do everything she was doing.
Everything they’d say would be nice and supportive. But when Mafuyu finally excused herself and closed the bedroom door behind her, she would always lean back against the oaken door and release a heavy sigh.
Once, a long time ago, she worked up the courage to say that she couldn’t seem to taste Mom’s cooking. Mom got really upset. Mafuyu couldn’t remember the exact words she used, but there were raised voices and a visceral look in Mom’s eyes which chilled Mafuyu to her core.
After that, she dared not to speak her mind. They were appeased with gifts of good news, and in return they provided everything that Mafuyu could need. Food, a house, clothes, a disposable income, compliments.
Yet this feeling… surely it could not be happiness. She could not imagine this was the way characters in her books felt when they were content.
—
25:00. Mafuyu closed her notebook and her textbook, plugged in her headphones, and joined the Nightcord call. The other three members were already there, and the audio from the call was warped from a shrieking Ena.
“Yuki!” Mizuki said. “You’re right on time.”
Even over the mic, Mafuyu could hear their poorly-concealed snickers. “It sounds like I walked into something.”
“We need your opinion on Enanan’s most recent post. Here, I posted it in the main chat!”
Mafuyu looked at the image for a moment — Ena posing over a plate of pancakes with plentiful fruit toppings — before it was swiftly deleted.
“Enanan~ Why did you delete it?” Mizuki teased.
“Don’t share my personal stuff with everyone!”
“But didn’t you want to post it for everyone to see online?”
“That’s not the point!”
“Ooh, is Enanan embarrassed about showing this side to K and Yuki?”
Mafuyu listened in with mild interest. Mizuki and Ena always had the strangest conversations. Given by the fact that they both spent so much time together, it gave Mafuyu the impression that Ena was alright with Mizuki’s relentless teasing.
Mafuyu wondered how it felt to be teased like that. Would she have hated Mizuki for it?
“Wait, Yuki, did you manage to get a good look at the photo?” Mizuki asked.
“I did.”
“What did you think?”
It was just a picture. “I didn’t see anything that stood out.”
“Soooo… Would it be too far of a jump to say that it’s good as-is to post online?”
Mafuyu’s phone was devoid of any apps like social media. “I don’t see any reason not to, I guess.”
Mizuki was triumphant. “See, Enanan, it’s fine! You don’t need any touch ups on it. Gogogo, ship it out!”
“Weren’t you just making fun of me for that picture?” Ena’s voice was shrill. Sometimes, Mafuyu wondered if Ena’s parents could hear her through the walls, or if she had a soundproof room.
“No, I was making fun of you asking me to Photoshop your pancakes! You and your pancakes will be fine.”
“Is K here?” Mafuyu asked.
Both of them reset from the previous line of conversation. “Um, she’s been on the call but she hasn’t really said anything.” Ena said.
Probably tuned out of the world, entirely focused on making another new melody. “Okay, thanks,” Mafuyu said. As Ena and Mizuki returned to their bickering, Mafuyu turned her attention to the lyrics of their newest song.
Kanade. It had been several months since that incident. That day when she had sunk to depths far below she ever knew, Kanade showed up and made the stupidest promise which Mafuyu had demanded of her. She promised to keep composing for Mafuyu, no matter what. And be there for her.
And Mafuyu could not say no.
There were days which passed where she felt like testing the binds of the promise Kanade had made. If Mafuyu were to disappear for a day, a week, would Kanade come looking for her? Would she push onwards, no matter how many times Mafuyu pushed her away?
But the truth was, Mafuyu dared not to test it. She could imagine all she wanted, but it was difficult to think of the scenario where Mafuyu would sit at the furthest corners at the SEKAI but Kanade would not and would never come. Her stomach would twist, and it’d be difficult to breathe. It was easier to pretend such circumstances would never come to pass.
So when Kanade had a question, Mafuyu answered to the best of her ability. When Kanade asked Mafuyu to go somewhere with her, Mafuyu went. When Kanade wrote a song for Mafuyu and asked her how she felt, she tried to be honest.
But indeed — was this enough? Mizuki and Ena didn’t seem to need such attention from each other to carry on a conversation. Even if Mafuyu didn’t join 25ji, Kanade would still probably still truck forwards, making music which would might help “save” people. All that kept Mafuyu within the circle of 25ji was Kanade’s promise. That was what she thought.
“Hey, Yuki. How are the lyrics going?”
It took a second for Mafuyu to realize that she was on call, and that it was Kanade who asked the question.
She looked at the lyrics that she had written while she was lost in thought. “I have a rough draft.”
“Can you share them with us?” Kanade asked.
A few minutes of silence elapsed as the other members of 25ji read through the document.
“Wow, Yuki,” Mizuki said. “This gives me — it reminds me of the songs you wrote under OWN. Enanan, what do you think?”
Ena was silent.
Mizuki chuckled. “That good, huh? Either that or she’s sleeping.”
“No, I’m here.” Ena said, almost a whisper. “Just need to process them a little.”
“Thanks, Yuki. I think this looks good. I’ll probably need to ask you to make a few modifications, but I think we can work with this.” Kanade paused. “Do you need to go to bed soon?”
Mafuyu checked the time. 2:54AM. “Yes, I should. Good night.”
“Good night, Yuki!” Mizuki called.
“Good night,” Ena said.
“See you tomorrow, Yuki. Good work today,” Kanade said quietly.
Mafuyu clicked on the “End Call” and turned off her computer. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of her room, but eventually she could make out her reflection on the blank screen of her monitor. A sigh escaped her lips, and she slipped under her bedsheets, tired.
Her shoulders ached as she lay on her side in bed, facing the wall. The nightly meetings with 25ji started to feel more and more like a chore. Spending so much time arranging Kanade’s compositions, writing lyrics, listening to Mizuki and Ena — was it not dissimilar to school, or the additional tutoring, or dinners with her parents? Another appointment to meet, with more tasks to do.
Tomorrow Mafuyu had another test in Japanese. There was no archery, but she had promised to meet with classmates for a study session after school. She’d get home in time for dinner, and then she’d need to do all her homework between then and 1AM, where she’d probably need to help Kanade with making the lyrics fit the demo. And she still had to finish that book her dad got her…
Mafuyu fell asleep uneasily. Tomorrow will be another long day.
—