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Once upon a time, Uika prided herself in the masks she could wear. Like a girl understanding her role in a story, Uika adapted with the bountiful stolen traits from the humans around her.
Her sister, the real Uika, was a model in that regard. Her adoptive father, a loving and warm presence to the fortunate ones. Her mother’s traits weren’t neglected in being stolen, but Uika never used them for any of her social appearances. Mom’s traits felt too much like her own muted ones; and that recognition alone sparked a hint of self-hatred.
Uika grew up and remained a child, switching masks. Her experience increased exponentially once she stepped foot in Tokyo, and she learned about all kinds of people that existed. Much like in her house, there were plenty of warm people like Dad, as there were adventurers like her sister, as there were broken imitations of happiness like Mom.
Little by little, Uika grew weary with the ever-changing world that housed all sorts of people, and she found herself accepting the Hatsune that will always remain a naive child. Her stealing Uika’s identity only cemented that the acceptance was long since subconscious.
Uika poured coffee in five mugs while her bandmates settled in her living room.
Ave Mujica was having a meeting in Saki’s and her loft, courtesy of them becoming bandmates for life now.
“Your place is totally bare,” Nyamu said as she looked around, “I totally want to see your room, can I? I need to get a grasp on your personality!”
“I’m afraid you’ll just get disappointed,” Uika laughed good naturedly as she passed with the tray around to serve them all their coffee, then sat by Sakiko's side.
“No way, it’s bare too?” Nyamu gasped.
Sakiko gave Nyamu a pointed look, “Please, do not give Uika a complex about this.”
Nyamu coughed as she choked on a biscuit, covering her mouth, “Sakiko, I know you agree with me. Don’t play the saint here.”
Sakiko’s cheeks dusted pinker than they usually were, “I am not playing a saint, Nyamu.”
Nyamu rolled her eyes, “Don’t argue with me about that too. You created this cult–”
Mutsumi shoved a biscuit into Nyamu’s mouth just then, “Nyamu, aaah.”
Nyamu choked harder, “Don’t say that after shoving it in my mouth!” She was red to her ears, hands scrambling to fix her hair while she chewed.
“Your cheeks are cute when they’re puffed up.” Mutsumi said, her face landing on a serene sincerity that shot Nyamu right through the heart. Nyamu turned away.
“Flirting, aren’t you?” Umiri said flatly.
“We are not! She is not!” Nyamu cried out.
Mutsumi shrugged.
Sakiko sighed, looking fond of the three, then adapted a more serious expression, “We still have to talk about our activities.”
“Later,” Nyamu whined, turning her attention back to Uika again. She smiled sweetly right as Uika stiffened up, “Come on, Uiko. It’s the first time we’re at your place. You don’t have to share much, but you have hobbies, don’t you?”
Uika’s mind went blank, but her smile remained as she tried to compute words. She wasn’t the type to talk about herself if not for an already rehearsed answer thanks to her idol career.
“Sakiko has this whole high-lady personality with expensive hobbies,” Nyamu started listing off, “Muuko has ballet and her own version of celebrity shenanigans, Umiko is practical and embarrassingly edgy, and I’m probably too much of a mystery. So if you share, I’ll share my hobbies too?”
Umiri peeked over at the comment, “You’re not much of a mystery, Nyamuchi-sensei. I’ve been to your place.”
Nyamu put a finger to her lips, “Shh! It’s part of her opening up!”
“You called me edgy,” Umiri reminded her, her eyebrows drawn together. Mutsumi reached over and offered a biscuit to Umiri, “Thank you, I’ll be having one. Aaa.” She opened her mouth to accept the treat from Mutsumi’s hand.
Nyamu fumed from between them, but didn’t say a word despite her annoyance. Her eyes returned back to Uika, like the answer was that important to her.
Sakiko shuffled, holding her mug of coffee between her hands, “Uika, you do not need to engage if it’s too much.”
Her first reaction was to melt at Sakiko’s kindness. Her heart warmed instantly, and she found herself retreating back to her shell, turning away from a chance at being seen. Laying cocooned in the darkness was much more familiar, and much more pleasant.
Yet still, her heart beat in anticipation.
“I’m curious as well,” Umiri said next, receiving Nyamu’s smile as praise, “Knowing as much as possible about my bandmates is important.”
Mutsumi looked back at Uika, giving a simple nod.
Uika found her voice, only for it to come out shaky, “I’m simplistic. But I like reading and watching films.”
Nyamu smiled back, leaning on her hand as she looked Uika over, “That’s a typical boring answer, but I’ll accept it.”
Sakiko, who was momentarily taken by surprise, threw another look at Nyamu, “Nyamu…”
Nyamu’s smile widened, shrugging towards Sakiko, “Uiko can speak for herself, Sakiko.”
Uika stuttered for a moment, her face flaring up with heat, and she found her hands wringing on her lap, “I don’t mind… I think.”
That sounded wrong, though. Her answer didn’t make any sense with Nyamu’s response.
“It’s okay,” she corrected herself, because there was little to be mad at in front of everyone, especially when Nyamu was probably right.
The reason Uika liked to read and watch films was to understand how people thought and connected with one another. Uika had always been fascinated with people and their interpersonal relationships and conflicts. She herself didn’t experience a spark of emotion unless she was aggravated to a certain extreme.
Right now, she found that no mask fit for a sociable Uika around friends.
“We should totally watch a film, then,” Nyamu said with a flair of nonchalance. That made Uika eye her suspiciously, though, because Nyamu didn’t regularly display nonchalance unless she was trying to show she didn’t care.
Sakiko straightened up, “The meeting–”
“Can wait,” Nyamu finished for her, “What’s your favourite movie?”
Uika’s mind blanked.
She forgot.
Or rather, it was too buried and personal she couldn’t dredge it up.
‘“I’ll think about it,” Uika maintained her smile and pressed her hands together, trying not to wring them again, “How about we discuss business, then we watch a film later?”
The compromise seemed to ease both Nyamu and Sakiko at once. Uika’s breath left her in relief, though she couldn’t understand why her shoulders felt so weighty, exactly.
The unfamiliarity of the situation left her exhausted and stretched thin, but her smile kept stubborn despite the rough edges.
It was hard that every well polished mask escaped her hands in a sociable situation that spun on her.
Yet, despite the fear, the child that was her felt seen.