Chapter Text
When someone knocks on the door at two o’ clock in the morning as it pounds rain outside, one naturally has questions running through their mind as they go to answer it. But when Rui Kamishiro opened the door to see Mizuki Akiyama out on the doorstep, rain dripping from their frizzled hair, face soaking in misery, he didn’t have to ask a single one.
“I’ll get a towel,” he said, not even a smirk of familiarity crossing his lips. “Come inside. Quickly, now.”
Mizuki – sullen, dead-eyed, glazed over – remained still and silent, letting the rain seep into their skin, drips of water plodding off the ends of their hair. Rui noticed that their trademark ribbon didn’t adorn their hair, though a quick glance showed that it was clutched tightly in one hand. The smell of rain – the scent of gray loneliness – poured in from the outside, drowning out most other senses. But Rui didn’t let the despondency of the image overwhelm him.
“Well?” he asked, with a mixture of worry and impatience. “Are you going to stand there and melt into the ground? Catch pneumonia and die?”
Still no movement. But Mizuki showed up here in the first place. It wasn’t as if anybody else would have willed them to his doorstep at such an hour. That alone told Rui all he needed to know. With mild reluctance, he grabbed hold of their arm and gently pulled them inside. There was no resistance.
Flicking on the low entryway lights, Rui closed the door and draped his jacket around the otherwise frilly-dressed Mizuki, who stood as if their very soul had been sucked out of them. He ran to the laundry room to grab the first clean towel he could find, jogging back to wrap it around them as snugly as possible, taking care not to be too rough. He almost felt like he was dressing up a doll, albeit in a hastened, shoddy manner. “You’re fortunate I was still up. Had a couple designs to adjust.”
Mizuki said nothing.
“Mercifully my parents are sound sleepers… I can explain to them in the morning why you’re here. Shouldn’t be much trouble. We have a guest room, or the couch if you prefer.”
Nothing.
“We’ve got some leftover soup that I can heat up. I’ll put on the kettle as well.” Rui pulled Mizuki over and put a towel down before seating them on the couch. “Do speak up if you need – or especially want – anything.”
Nothing at all.
For several minutes, Rui toiled away in the kitchen, focused on aiding Mizuki more than satisfying whatever curiosity was bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He occasionally poked his head out, hoping Mizuki might prod at the various trinkets on the coffee table or even get up to use the restroom. But a stone was more active in comparison. What was going on in that head of theirs? What could have happened to have prompted such a late-night escapade?
It took little time for him to prepare the two steaming liquids, the soup in the nicest bowl he could find and the tea in his own personal thermos. Rui lay it front of them gingerly, unable to find a reassuring smile within himself as he sat next to them. “There we are. Do know I’m not going to handfeed you, however. It’s not within my station. Besides, there’s willpower in your eyes yet.”
He couldn’t tell if his last statement was a lie or not. But after several seconds of harrowing inaction, Mizuki reached forward and solemnly took the thermos into their hands, sipping from it slowly before setting it back down on the table in front of them.
“…I don’t like stuff that’s too hot, you know.”
Rui’s shoulders relaxed a bit at the words. “My apologies. You looked so cold that I couldn’t help but prepare the warmest meal I could imagine.”
Mizuki’s frown now had a mote of life in it – melancholy instead of emptiness.
“You may let it cool down as much as you wish. Is there anything else I can procure? Draw a bath? Gather some blankets?”
Mizuki shook their head slowly.
“You need a fresh change of clothes, at least. Though I’m not sure I’ll have anything suited for your style, apologies…”
A flash of pain shone in Mizuki’s eyes, sharper than any emotion yet shown. Rui knew why, but hadn’t an idea how to address it. Perhaps he should have been more direct. ‘I don’t have feminine clothing.' But directness had never been his forte, nor theirs.
“I’ll fetch you pajamas.” Rui rose to his feet. “But I must ask, be that you listen…”
Mizuki peered at him. Not in great spirits but at least responsive. Progress.
“What happened?”
It cut through the air like wind. Mizuki stared into the brown murk of the hot tea, losing themself in the hazel memory…
“Enanaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan! What’s poppin, my little angry artiste?”
“Will you stop giving me nicknames already? You push my buttons so much you might as well be a crane operator!”
“Does that make you a large piece of construction equipment, then?”
“You shut up too, Yuki! Why the hell would you say that?”
“Perhaps we should think about construction equipment for our next song…”
“K, I don’t… what?”
“Does construction work make you feel anything, Yuki?”
“Hm? I don’t know.”
“Well, I mean that kinda makes sense, doesn’t it? Most people don’t have strong feelings about girders and hard hats…”
“Good point, Amia. But when I think of all the hardworking people on construction sites, their dedication and works… it certainly makes me feel for them. It’s similar to the effort we put into our own music.”
“Oh? Perhaps I should try to feel something too. Maybe if I write lyrics about their daily toil…”
“What in the sam hell are we all talking about? Amia, this is all your fault!”
“Hey, I wasn’t the one who brought up crane operators,” crowed Mizuki, failing to hide their snickers. “That was a certain brunette bruiser I know.”
“Can it with the alliteration, you little shit!” cried Enanan – Ena, artist with a fuse shorter than her hair. “And who are you calling a ‘bruiser’?”
“Are you bruised, Enanan?” asked Yuki – Mafuyu, lyricist with a face more rigid than a mask.
“Of course not, idiot! Use your head for once!”
“I’m a little bruised right now…” moaned K – Kanade, producer with a figure more delicate than a carnation. “I tripped on my carpet right at the spot where the light poked through the curtains, so I was extra weak.”
“K, sometimes I worry about you…” said Mizuki. “But only sometimes.”
“Oh right, I need to pick up more body spray,” Kanade continued. “Maybe I’ll ask Ms. Mochizuki to get some next time she’s over. Can’t take a shower every day, after all.”
“I believe you can,” Mafuyu pointed out.
Ena sighed with exasperation into the mic as Mizuki giggled. Just another day of talking with her music production circle that they made MVs for. Something to look forward to as the sun went down.
“Oh jeez, it’s almost 25:00 already?” Ena asked. “Weren’t we going to talk about the next song idea?”
Mizuki smirked. “I thought we agreed, Enanan – construction work.”
“I’m gonna wring my hands around your neck like a cartoon character someday, you clown.”
“Perfect, considering how your threats to do so sound like Elmer Fudd. ‘Oh, I’ll catch that wascally wabbit!’”
“One of my fellow archery club members called herself a wascally wabbit the other day,” said Mafuyu. “I’m not sure why.”
The strangeness of the comment was enough to dampen Ena’s anger via confusion. “I never know what we’re fucking talking about in this VC…”
“I’m sorry, Ena,” said Kanade. “We had so much fun chatting that we forgot to sort out N25 business.”
“Eh? Oh, it’s not you Kanade!” Ena’s voice softened. “You’re doing your best, I appreciate that.”
“Ena and Kanade sittin’ in a tree,” Mizuki sang. “K-I—
“-L-L-I-N-G! YOU, THAT IS!” Ena bellowed. If they existed in the same physical space, they probably would be chasing each other Looney Tunes style.
“I’m going to bed,” said Mafuyu. “Good night.” Her icon disappeared from the voice chat nonchalantly.
“I should do the same,” said Kanade. “A Miku producer I follow is releasing a new song tomorrow, and I want to make sure I wake up at a reasonable hour. Have a good night.”
“Night, Kanade!” bade Mizuki as her icon too popped out of existence. “Well, I should also—”
“STAY RIGHT THERE!” Ena yelled. “I’m not letting you off the hook this time!”
“What’s that? Enanan has to have a one on one private chat with me? All alooooone?”
Mizuki heard a scream of frustration that could fell a small aircraft before it abruptly cut out. They hadn’t gotten Ena to ragequit out of a VC in a while! It was refreshing, like an accomplishment to tell people about.
Not that they had anybody to share it with.
Mizuki shook that thought off before climbing into their pjs. No reason to get hung up on their seclusion right now. It was like that one meme they saw: “never trust how you feel about your life after 9pm.” Considering Mizuki was a night owl half the time, that left the window of time in which they could trust how they felt about their life exceedingly small. And considering how often they felt filled with anxiety and grief about it, hey, it worked out for the better.
The macabre joke replaying in their mind, they hopped into bed, watching the dim, stark red lighting of their alarm clock flick over to 1:00. Usually a time of prowling and activity… but rest was good sometimes too.
Just lie down…
Look at the gray ceiling…
And try not to let the thoughts reach them.
Mizuki awoke at noon: early for them, though in this case some massive oversleeping. They grabbed a quick shower and spent the usual amount of time (too long) fixing themself up in the mirror – today they were dressed in a soft pink pleated skirt with a dark polka-dotted top with poofy sleeves. They twirled a bit in the mirror before smiling and pumping their fits. Lookin’ fresh, lookin’ femme, they thought. Let’s have some fun!
Mizuki’s room was of a muted pink, filled with bodice and lace, frilled as much as their preferred style of clothing. The pleated curtains flowed like waves of maroon, rippling the afternoon sunlight onto pastel pink rugging. Accessories, cosmetics, perfumes, bit and bobs of ways to make themselves up dotted the shelves and desk. But despite the plethora, not a bottle or bobby pin was out of place. Even at their lowest, Mizuki always tried to make their room tidy. Or at least seem tidy. They knew the value of appearance, after all.
Not feeling the whole “school” thing for today, and with the day off from work, they instead decided to log on and browse social media, seeing a typical flurry of hodgepodge.
@NeoMio67 – newest ep of pink punisher purechi-chan was kinda mid tbh
@MetroGnome – We need to talk about how calling things ‘mid’ is anti-intellectual and dampens actual discussion and analysis of media 🧵
@KizueMusick – I want sukiyaki
@Bibibibibi20 – [anime girl art]
@NewsPress – The CEO who owns this platform has laid over another 300 people, saying “what’re they gonna do? fire ME? lmao.” A class action lawsuit is pending.
@b00b5 – hehe
Mizuki, ever the miscreant, embarked on their own takes, having of course religiously watched the episode of Pink Punisher Purechi the evening before as it debuted.
@MammAmia – Listen, Purechi isn’t about plots or even character growth, it’s about dumbness and elaborate attack sequences. C’mon.
@MammAmia – I’m just sayin’ it’s no Galaxy Girl Gigachampion Galako. They can’t ALL be kino.
@DingusMcBingus – what’s kino
Mizuki engaged in the usual light, inconsequential manner of discourse, doing the occasional bit of banter with mutuals. As they continued to browse though, they happened upon their favorite kind of post: namely, one from a familiar face.
@PaleButterflyArt – Rough warm-up sketch [pic]
The drawing was some manner of still life, a coffee cup on her desk, probably just something she really did just draw for warmup. But Mizuki could never pass up an opportunity to shitpost, and no matter what Ena said or drew, it was an opportunity. After giving it the obligate like and share, Mizuki cracked their knuckles and grinned.
@MammAmia – Wow so pretty! Can you draw me?
@PaleButterflyArt – Sure! You’ll be ugly.
@MammAmia – Not in your style! You always art so beautifully.
@PaleButterflyArt – I’m gonna do things that are against TOS
Mizuki was wounded. They did love Ena’s art! …But they also were being flippant right now, admittedly. No way in hell they could just spit it out, though. Saying things without an ironclad armor of irony? It’d be easier to swim across the Pacific.
@MammAmia – Oh really? What kinds of things?
@PaleButterflyArt – One of these days I’m just going to block you and move on with my life
@MammAmia – Noooooo! My heart couldn’t last without you!
No reply. Though Mizuki knew from experience that blocks weren’t something they could just laugh off. Depending on the person, it was practically a punch to the gut. Even if they knew it shouldn’t have been.
With no further reaction from the tormentee, Mizuki lay off, going instead to the kitchen to grab food (leftover convenience store riceballs) before returning to their PC and putzing around for most of the afternoon. Watching a bit of anime, reading a bit of manga, browsing a little more around… before they knew it, night had come, and it was time to log onto Nightcord.
“Hi hiiiiii,” they said cheerily as they joined Voice Chat.
“Ah, Amia, you’re here,” said Kanade, click-clacking away. “How was your day?”
“Good, pretty uneventful. How about you, K?”
“The new song by the producer I told you about is pretty good. I’m trying to listen to it a hundred times in 24 hours.”
“That… seems like a lot…” That’s practically idol stan behavior…
Moments later, Mafuyu and Ena joined. “Hello,” said Mafuyu.
“Good evening…” muttered Ena, stifling a yawn.
“Do you need rest, sleeping beauty?” asked Mizuki with a half-cocked smirk.
Ena must have truly been tired, because they didn’t get even the slightest hint of a rise from her. “Can we just talk about our next song so you all don’t have to witness a murder?”
“Sounds like a good idea,” said Kanade, who at this point had long filtered out Mizuki and Ena’s threats to one another. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t have many ideas myself. I’d like it to be something quieter I think, but I don’t have a concept beyond that.”
“Quieter, huh…” Ena hummed. “Honestly, my creative ideas have been super spent lately… Amia?”
Mizuki always had lots of ideas, but no idea on how to communicate any of them – or more importantly, the confidence to do so. “I got nothing. Yuki?”
“Hmm…” Mafuyu’s voice buzzed in the low-quality mic and sound processing of the chat. “Well, I heard about something from my classmates today that sounded a little interesting. It was a sort of thought experiment.”
“A thought experiment?” asked Kanade. “Like Schrödinger’s Cat?”
“Not quite, I think,” said Mafuyu, sounding unsure. “It had to do with a hallway.”
“A hallway, you say…” said Mizuki.
“Mmhmm. The idea is that as you walk through the hallway, you hear everything everyone has ever said about you. Whether you were around or not.”
A cold trepidation filled Mizuki’s veins. Ena murmured quietly into the mic. “Everything… absolutely everything, good or bad?”
“Yes,” said Mafuyu, unemotional as she continued. “At the end of the hallway, you hear the sweetest words, the nicest compliments ever said to or about you. But to get there, you have to pass through all of the worst things people have said first.”
“Oh, I think I’ve heard of something like this,” said Kanade. “Though the version I know is a descending staircase instead of a hallway. I believe it was called… the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known.”
“Being Known?” asked Mafuyu, her voice an edge hollower.
“It’s the nature of relationships,” said Kanade. “When you open yourself up to love, you open yourself up to pain too. If you can’t be vulnerable with who you really are, then how will anybody be able to connect with you?”
Deathly silence. Mizuki’s usual slackness at their computer chair had given way to a stark lethargy, as they sat barely unable to string two thoughts together.
Mafuyu’s voice came quietly. “What if… you can’t show someone who you really are, because you don’t know it yourself?”
The question stabbed them right in the chest. Mizuki could hear the blood pumping inside their ears as Kanade responded. “Ah. Sorry, Yuki…”
“…Why are you apologizing?”
“I feel like I brushed on a sensitive subject for you,” Kanade continued. “But you have been open with us. Very vulnerable. Whether or not you recognize it. And I promise that we’ll help you find that self you’ve been missing.”
Mafuyu was silent. The pensive air clogging up the VC was too much for Mizuki to handle. “H-Hey now! No need to get all morose! It’s just a thought experiment, right?”
“Y… Yeah,” said Ena, sounding uncharacteristically dazed. “It’s not like this hallway is a real place.”
“But I think it would be an interesting idea for a song,” said Kanade. “To struggle through criticism, rejection, alienation to find the place and ones you really love, and who really love you…”
“How does that sound, Mafuyu?” asked Mizuki. “Is that gonna get you all nice and warm??”
“I don’t know,” said Mafuyu, as if Mizuki had asked her why the moon was round. “But I think it’d make a nice song.”
“Haha, yeah!” said Mizuki, forcing a fist pump. “Right, Enanan?”
Ena didn’t respond.
“Enanan?”
A beat, and then: “Yuki, would you be able to go down that hallway?”
Mizuki shrank back at the suddenness of the question. They imagined Kanade must have too.
“I’m not really sure,” Mafuyu said nonchalantly. “Probably. But why would I?”
“Why would…?” Ena huffed. “To get the compliments at the end, obviously.”
“But I don’t know if I’d feel anything,” said Mafuyu. “People compliment me all the time. Besides, I’m pretty sure I hear all the worst things said about me from you on a daily basis, and they rarely bother me.”
The sound of Ena gritting her teeth was clear as crystal. “Must be nice being you, huh?”
“Do you not get compliments?”
“I never said that! God, why do you have to talk so—!”
“Well, would you walk down the hallway, then?”
The question stopped Ena in her bull charge. “W-W-Well, of course I would! I hear lots of critique a lot already, so what’s one or two more cruel things?”
“Oof, Enanan…” said Mizuki with a wince. “You need a hug?”
“Not from you, you chattering, preening, grinning yuckster of a—!”
“K, what about you?” asked Mafuyu, cutting Ena off.
“Hmm.” The sound of a light finger tapping. “In the hallway, do the worst things said include your own words or thoughts?”
Mizuki thought the stillness in their heart couldn’t have gaped any wider. They were wrong.
“I-I don’t know,” said Ena. “That wasn’t in the original thought experiment, right?”
“Not as far as I know,” said Mafuyu.
“I guess if that wasn’t the case, I might be able to make it to the end,” said Kanade. “But if it was… I’m not sure I’d be able to make it even halfway through. I feel like the person cruelest to me nowadays is myself.”
“K…” Mizuki could hear the melancholy in her voice as she said it. It made their resonance with the words that much harsher.
“That just leaves Amia, then,” said Mafuyu.
“Wh-Who, little old me?” asked Mizuki, injecting every ounce of false whimsy they possessed into their voice. “Welllll, that’d be tricky… I’d, uh, have to think about it a little, but yeah! I think I’d give it a try, at least.”
Said with a chuckle and a grin, as always. But of their many lies, this had to be the most bald-faced.
Mizuki Akiyama knew they couldn’t make it three steps into that hallway. They couldn’t even think about approaching it. The mere sight of the entrance would have made them nauseous, if not worse.
But why would they ever admit that?
“I see…” said Mafuyu. “Thank you for telling.”
“What’s that? Gratitude?” asked Ena with a mixture of derision and curiosity.
“Isn’t thanking someone the polite thing to do?”
“And why do you care?!”
“Settle down, you two…” said Mizuki, almost glad their usual bickering was a distraction from their own ills. “You’re welcome, Yuki. And as always, I’ll answer any other questions you have!”
“It sounds like this song idea has us all thinking, at least,” said Kanade. “Are we all in agreement?”
Three yeses all around. With that in mind, the quartet split up to do their usual jobs – music, lyrics, art, and video. Mizuki usually waited to see what the others had as rough sketches before getting to work themself, but for the moment they could at least examine their overlays and other tools to figure out what kind of editing style they’d go for. Kanade had mentioned the song being “quieter,” so they prepared to use desaturated fonts and more subtle shapes and colors. Everybody worked in silence for some time.
“Ah. Mom’s coming,” said Mafuyu, suddenly dropping out.
“Again?” asked Mizuki. “I feel like she’s been coming around a lot lately.”
“Maybe she’s cottoned on to her daughter staying up late to make music with a bunch of strangers,” Ena suggested. “Any parent would be concerned.”
Strangers… Mizuki tried to ignore the word as it hung in their mind. “I guess it’s better than hearing your shouting matches with your dad word for word.”
“That was one time! Let it go!”
Mizuki giggled. “Make me.”
“Yeah? Well what are your parents like?”
“They’re great!” said Mizuki. “Super supportive, charming, nice people.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” said Kanade, genuinely warm. “I’m glad.”
Despite the clear happiness, Mizuki still felt bad. “Uh… sorry, K.”
“Sorry,” said Ena quietly.
“It’s ok,” said Kanade, just a hint quieter. “I’ll be visiting my dad tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Oh… that’s good!” said Mizuki, forcing more cheer back into their voice. “I hope that he’s well.”
“Y-Yeah, let us know how it goes,” said Ena.
“Thanks.”
The three continued to work for some time more, as the clock struck past midnight and the fated hour of 25:00. Mizuki considered asking how progress was going, but after the earlier conversation was honestly preferring silent solitude at the moment. They could still feel the thumping in their ribcage.
“Oh, the time…” Kanade eventually muttered. “I’m gonna need to log off. You two?”
“I’m gonna keep working a little while longer,” said Ena. “I think I’ve got a good thing going.”
“Same,” said Mizuki. “Night, K!”
“Goodnight.” And she exited.
Now that it was only the two of them, Mizuki couldn’t resist chicanery. “Sooooo… I hear you like girls.”
“Not if that’s what you are,” Ena spat dryly.
Ouch. Ouuuuchhh. That hurt like twelve different ways that Ena couldn’t possibly know about. Mizuki couldn’t show it, though. “Y-You’re sure workin’ hard for the first session after coming up with the new song concept.”
“It was a pretty thorough concept,” said Ena. “And also, it’s a bit out of necessity, since… nevermind.”
“Hm?” asked Mizuki, practically striking an OwO face. “Spill it. What’s on Enanan’s mind, eh?”
“Nothing, it’s just…” A deep sigh. “I didn’t really want to tell you or anybody else in N25 yet. Not that it’s a big deal or anything…”
“What isss ittttttttttttt?”
“I’ll tell you, okay? Shut up!” Ena took a moment to compose herself. “I’m trying to enter another art contest soon.”
“Wowee!” Mizuki whistled. “Going for the Grand Prize this time, I take it?”
“Well…” Ena tapered off.
“What is it?”
“…Nothing. I’ve just got a lot to do for the contest and this song… not to mention it’s almost time for finals. So I got to put in hours when I can.”
“Look at you, ever the hard worker,” said Mizuki. “Well, let us know if you need anything.”
“Thanks.” Beat. “Um, Mizuki?”
The sound of their real name struck funny in this context. “What’s up?”
“Er… how are you doing?” asked Ena. “It’s been a bit since we’ve, uh, talked.”
“Me?” asked Mizuki. “Why I’m fit as a fiddle and right as rain! What, are you worried about meeeeeeeeee?” They lay on the flirtatiousness as thickly as possible.
“It’s not—! Listen to me! It’s been a bit since that whole talk on the rooftop, so…”
Mizuki winced at the memory. The sunset. The fence. The trust. The lies.
“I-I’m not rushing you or anything. I just really want to know how you’re doing.”
Mizuki could never be honest about that. And in place of honesty hung frivolity. “Hehe, little old Ena, wringin’ her lil’ artist hands over me… so precious of her.”
“I just—oh, stuff it, you!” Ena groaned. “I was just worried! Do you have to twist everything I say or something?”
“Maaaaaaaaaybe.”
“Ugh! I’m logging off,” said Ena. “What I get for trying to have a serious conversation…” She blipped out.
“Enanan? Enanaaaan? Ena?” asked Mizuki, waiting for Ena to storm back a few moments later (as she sometimes did). “Huh, made her really mad tonight…”
Was that right of them? Probably not. But it was easier this way. Mizuki couldn’t do heart to hearts. Though they were almost surprised Ena was able to. It wasn’t like she was allergic to the concept, but she usually only employed them when Mizuki was failing to hide their feelings.
Were… were they doing that again? Was Ena once more going to grow sick concerned for their well-being?
They weakly laughed it off. They were fine! Nothing had even happened. They were the same as always. Ena just wanted an update. She might’ve just… seen something and made a big deal out of it in her head. She did that sometimes. She was just upset at Mizuki because she cared too much, that was all…
…Because… she… Ena cared. Genuinely. Wholly.
…
…Huh? That was strange.
Why was their cheek wet?
They wiped it away and forced a laugh for nobody. Jeez, they needed to get it together. It was late and they needed rest. They would worry about the song and Ena and everything else tomorrow! When you sleep, the thoughts can’t get to you!
…Unless they fill your dreams.
And with that in mind, Mizuki stared at their ceiling, cold and desaturated, as the hours blinked away into an overcast dawn.
Long ago, in a land of nettle and pine, where the snow hares burrowed in thatches of dead branches, where the eternal winter softly wept from the sky, there walked a witch.
Draped in robes of fur and hide, staff of yew in hand, veil of cloth cloaking lowered eyes, leaving fresh footprints on the ever-falling snow.
At the sight, one would know them, but not know them, face shrouded by shadowed cowl, gait steady through liminal fields.
Where they walked from, where they walked to, spoken only in legend.
Alone the witch Einsemd did march.