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Another day of staying late at school. Club, cram school, studying. It doesn’t matter. It is all the same mind numbing work. Just how many more integrals until Mom is satisfied?
Mafuyu shakes her head. It is for the better. The better she does on her practice exams, the better she will do on her entrance exams. All for a good university, so she can have a good job as a doctor and achieve many great things.
Yet again, it is evening when the girl begins her journey home. The sun hangs low and turns the entire sky a peachy-orange. The sight would be ‘beautiful,’ from what her old art teachers taught her. She stares at the colored sky.
It is…just a sky.
There are no cars at this time. Only the sound of birds and her flats clicking against the pavement reach her ears. The sun is all alone in the sky. Just as she is all alone, walking home when everyone else had left school hours before.
When Mafuyu reaches her house, she notices an unfamiliar truck parked in front of the driveway. She glances at print reading Movers before turning her gaze away. Mom must be cleaning again.
She finds her hypothesis correct when she cracks open the door to her house.
“I’m home!” She calls out. A grin stretches Mafuyu’s face. Hopefully it is convincing enough. Her face muscles scream with the effort.
“Welcome home, dear.” Her mother looks up from her broom. The woman is smiling, her cheeks creased with laugh lines. The face is genuine, Mafuyu knows. It does not make the daughter feel warm. Instead, something low in her gut curls inwards.
Perhaps it is the various workers making a ruckus hauling an old sofa. Maybe it is the absence of magazines from the low table, or the slightly rearranged plants on glistening counters.
“I called in the movers to help me get rid of some larger pieces we have lying around, I hope you don’t mind.” Mom goes back to furiously sweeping the floor. Mafuyu can’t see any dust on the tiles, even when she bends down to unbuckle her shoes.
Mafuyu does mind. The strangers’ booming stomps and harsh barks grate on her ears. Just shut up…
“No, it’s perfectly alright!” She ups the smile, hands twitching. Mafuyu feels like an exposed nerve, raw, just waiting to be fired off. On most days, she does not ‘want’ anything. Right now, she thinks she ‘wants’ to lie in bed.
“Oh, one more thing.” Mom speaks lightly, voice unassuming.
“Yes, Mom?” Mafuyu folds her hands over her skirt.
“I was cleaning the house and found that old synthesizer you kept. I threw it away. It was collecting dust after your father bought it, and you don’t need it anyways. I hope you don’t mind.”
Mafuyu’s head buzzes. It stings like pins and needles. Lack of oxygen, it unhelpfully supplies. Her brain is working on overtime, filled with feelings she can’t comprehend, thoughts that dissipate as soon as she tries to latch onto them.
She should calm down. But her heart pounds in her ears, her breathing no more than sharp shallow gasps, and her head just won’t stop buzzing. There is sweat forming at her brow. Subconsciously, she wipes her slick palms against the front of her skirt.
Respond, her mind screams at her, you need to respond! But her mouth is sealed, even as her bottom lip quivers in a valiant effort to open up.
“O-oh…” Mafuyu manages to wheeze out. The tips of her fingers sting like glass shards are imbedded in them. They fall to her sides, twitching uselessly. “That’s…ok.”
She looks up at the woman’s face. On it, a smile.
“I threw it away.”
Mom threw it away.
How could she?
How could she?
But no. No. No, she was just doing it because she cares about me, I’m not working hard enough on my studies and it’s my fault that I am not perfect, I need to be perfect. And she cares about me, so she’ll take away the one thing distracting me. The one thing keeping her sane.
“I threw it away.”
Something is truly off when Mafuyu slowly creaks open the door to her room. The lights flick on. There is no sound apart from the bubbling of her aquarium.
Her skin crawls with spiders as she surveys the inside of her room. The wooden floor is shiny and free of eraser shavings. The textbooks from studying the night before are arranged into neat little piles. The blankets are folded at the bottom of the bed instead of over: how she usually makes them. The rug is straightened, vacuum marks dotting the surface. Mafuyu’s stomach boils.
Everything is the same. But it isn’t at the same time.
Nothing is where it was left. Her room feels like a parallel universe. Mafuyu thought she could get used to that woman’s cleaning habits. Mom is just paranoid, she thinks, even though she cleans the room just as much as Mom cleans the house. And paranoid of what? She doesn’t do anything but study and…
For just a moment, her heart leaps into her throat when she scans her desk. Eyes dart across the room, growing wider as her breath starts to stutter once again. The study guide, the study guide, the study guide, please…
Mom had placed it on top of the books. She lets out a breath.
At least that was not thrown away.
She…Her mom…
Mafuyu should go on Nightcord and tell her group mates that she…oh. Oh, she— she won’t be able to make music anymore. The girl immediately squashes that line of thinking down. The thought of explaining, even thinking of what…had happened makes her blood rush so fast her eyes blur.
Bed.
Mafuyu goes to lay on her bed. Her day clothes are still on. That’s dirty, Mom’s voice echoes through her bones.
It will be alright.
Mafuyu will lay on the bed for a moment. Only for a moment.
Mafuyu will get up. Mafuyu will go downstairs and eat dinner. Mafuyu will study. Mafuyu will mute Nightcord. Mafuyu will not join a call at 25:00. Mafuyu will go to bed. Mafuyu will sleep.
- ❄️ -
Mafuyu sleeps.
She does not sleep well.
The night is long. It is filled with her waking up in fits of breathless gasps, laying on her bed waiting endlessly to fall back asleep.
At 6 a.m., her alarm blares, waking her one last time. She rubs her eyes blearily.
Mafuyu is tired. Mafuyu is just so tired.
The morning slips through her fingers, and suddenly she’s sitting at her desk, bento open, eating curry that tastes like ash.
Students swarm around the classroom. She hopes none of them ask her—the good, trustworthy, responsible upperclassman—any questions like they usually do There are pages spread across in front of her. Variables and equations swim through her vision. It’s so loud. She can’t focus like this.
Her phone buzzes from her tote bag. The Do-Not-Disturb function must have switched off. Mafuyu quickly fishes it out her device. When she presses the power button, her screen is flooded. Nightcord notifications, messages, missed calls, emails— yuki, where are you!!!! - please get online mizuki is worried - hello??? are you there??? - did you go to bed - you normally tell us when you’re gone, are you ok? …
No. Her heart beats so strong that she can feel it in her ears. Mafuyu quickly shoves it back into her bag, ignoring another buzz that rattles her bones. She picks up a pencil and looks down at the page in front of her.
Fish leave a lake at a rate modeled by the function F given by…Mom threw away the synthesizer.
She threw it away. She threw it away.
Mafuyu will never get it back.
…
But, where did she throw it away?
It wasn’t in any of the house’s trash cans as it was too big. Did she get the movers to take it away? The synthesizer small enough for her to carry to the dumpster. Where Mom’s hands strong enough to carry it? Any sane person wouldn’t go all the way to the city just to get rid of some old technology. But this was Mom. And Mom was…nevermind.
Mafuyu scratches at the back of her forearm. Mom did this for her own good. So she could focus on studying. The pit in her stomach yawns wider as she grips her pencil to the point her knuckles burn.
There was a small chance. The smallest chance that Mom didn’t let the movers take the synthesizer. That she took care of it herself. That she grabbed it, drove all the way to the city, and trashed it that one dumpster at the back of the alleyway.
There is a small chance.
Mafuyu has nothing left. She has to take it.
While usually an active participant in class, the star student doesn’t raise her hand a single time for the rest of the afternoon. Her skull feels like a swarm of bees, a staticky buzzing making her light-headed. The bell for the end of last period rings, startling her out of her daze. The upperclassman looks down at her notes. A bunch of nonsensical scribbles.
She can worry about it later, as right now she’s slamming her books shut, throwing her notes into her bag, messily shoving pencils into the case. Anything to get out of there. Just a small chance…
“Asahina- san, ” The teacher calls out through the bustling of other students packing and leaving the classroom. “Please come up for a second.” Her eye twitches. She needs to leave now.
Grabbing all of her belongings, Mafuyu begrudgingly steps up to the front of the class.
“You’re not in trouble.” Her teacher speaks softly with a kind smile. Then why is she here. “I just wanted to ask, are you feeling alright? You’ve been very quiet this afternoon.”
“I am fine, sensei. I just have something important to take care of tonight, so I have been a little preoccupied.” White lies and half truths come easily. “I promise I will participate more tomorrow.”
The teacher makes a face at her last comment, something Mafuyu can’t determine the meaning of. But it disappears before she can dwell on it.
“Alright. If there is anything you wish to tell me, my office is always open. Good luck.”
Mafuyu responds with a kurt nod: “Thank you.”
After that, she rushes out the classroom door with the eyes of her teacher following.
The interaction is quickly pushed to the back of her head. It is time to leave. Now.
The north-side entrance is her best bet, as it is the closest to the city and usually sparse at this time of day. Dodging students and teachers alike, she weaves her way, dodging any crowded areas. Mafuyu’s shoulders relax infinitesimally at the sight of thick industrial doors. Thankfully, no one had bothered her for the rest of the walk.
“Asahina- senpai! ” A voice calls from behind her, along with the fast clacks of someone running through the hallway. She stops in her place, hand reached out towards the heavy door. She was so close… “Are you not going to club today?”
Go away, Mafuyu thinks exasperatedly, jaw clenching. Despite what Mom thought, being a good student had its downsides as apparently everyone was keen on keeping her in this school. With a small exhale, she slowly turns to the girl.
The student is a first year, one of the newest archery members. Ishikawa is shy, yet always looking for Mafuyu’s attention. Nevertheless, she is a good aim and is always looking to improve. The freshman is a good head shorter than Mafuyu herself. She has to strain her neck just to look Mafuyu in the eyes.
With fists balled up, the older student bows to the astonishment of her kouhai.
“My apologies, Ishikawa- san. I have something to take care of, and I won’t be able to attend.” Mafuyu straightens up with a practiced smile. The girl sputters, turning an odd shade of red. “Could you help me tell the rest of club?”
“Y-yes senpai!” The kid exclaims, before running off. Odd…
Mafuyu did not have time to think about it. The heavy metal doors are pushed open and she is met with the dull scent of fresh cut grass and adrenaline running through her veins.
She walks to the city.
The concrete is gray. The blue sky turns gray. The green grass turns gray. Everything in the city is a washed, dull grisaille-like gray.
Cars honk and swerve past each other. Mafuyu takes a step. And another.
The familiar street to the alleyway comes sooner than she realized. Freezing momentarily, Mafuyu stares at the street sign. Once, twice, thrice, then she looks towards her destination.
And she takes off.
It’s completely irrational. If she remembers correctly, the collection services are not to pick up the garbage until this Friday, a good three days from today. If her synthesizer is even at the dumpster, she only saves a few minutes by running. Despite knowing this, she keeps on, flats banging against the concrete like a rapidly ticking clock.
Cars zip past her, whooshing through her ears like the buzzing in her head. Mafuyu’s hands feel numb. Her chest feels like it is burning as she gasps for air. Her eyes sting, unshed tears kept from falling because there is no time to cry.
She reaches the alleyway.
It is dimly lit by a single lamppost, turned an odd shade of red from rust. The smell of damp concrete, old garbage, and other nefarious substances assaults her senses. The scent of the city should be a great repellant for the role model, star student, honor roll child she is. But she cannot afford to back down now, even when concrete jungle of the alleyway seems to grow colder and her skin turns to gooseflesh.
Bile rises from the bottom of Mafuyu’s throat. She walks onwards.
Through her blurry eyes, she sees it. Mixed with empty soda bottles and rotting food scraps, is Mafuyu’s synthesizer. Her synthesizer.
She trips over her feet, scrambling to feel it between her fingers.
It’s there, it’s there, it’s right there.
Mafuyu stops right in front of it.
“No.” She whispers, barely aware that she is speaking aloud. “No, no, no!”
What Mafuyu sees is not real. Her eyes are deceiving her. Surely…
With shaking hands, she gently grips the top of the synthesizer and pulls.
The bottom does not come with it.
Like a gruesome murder, Mafuyu is left with half of her synthesizer slipping from her hands and half of her heart beating out of her chest. Wires and tubing hang from the piece. The synthesizer’s guts and bones and sinew are all left to rot.
Mafuyu’s knees hit the trash littered concrete. Somewhere on the descent, her hands had finally let loose of the torn machine. Her body shakes. Her hands tremble viciously.
She scrabbles for the broken piece, letting out a sob once she feels it in her grip once again. Mafuyu can’t feel her hands splintering as they grasp at the sharp metal edges and exposed wires, hugging the instrument’s corpse to her chest.
Her head is pins and needles and needles and pins. With it, a single tear breaks loose from her watery eyes.
Mafuyu breaks.
- ❄️ -
The distinct scent of nothing permeates the air.
Dust mites dance in the dull shine of artificial light.
Mafuyu’s steps echo through the spacious area, the sounds unevenly spaced from her shaking legs.
At one point, no noise arose from the SEKAI. Mafuyu would sit next to Miku, her own breathing being the only thing she could hear. But now, a soft voice, a harsh voice, and a small robotic voice are somewhere in front of her.
Nightcord had come to the SEKAI as well. Where they looking for her? Mafuyu vaguely feels her fingernails digging into her arms.
“…and wait. I’m sure- Ah.” She hears Miku stop mid word, the virtual singer having already spotted her.
“Eh?” Ena remarks. The three girls turn to follow Miku’s gaze. Their last member has arrived. The artist crosses her arms at the sight of Mafuyu, her face scrunched up.
“Where have you been?” She asks pointedly. “You haven’t responded to any of our texts! If you were busy, you could have just said some-”
“Yuki, are you ok?” Kanade’s voice interjects, still raspy but louder than usual. “Did something happen?”
Mizuki…Mizuki hasn’t made a sound since Mafuyu has been here. She hadn’t heard them when she initially arrived. Now, they still don’t speak. They stand still, even through the Ena’s indignant frustration and Kanade’s panicked replies.
The girls’ arguing bounces blankly through her empty skull. Mizuki stares. Mafuyu stares back.
Still saying nothing, they step towards her. Ena doesn’t seem to notice, too engrossed in whatever she is saying to Kanade. The other girl gives them a glance, but quickly turns back to their illustrator.
“Can I hug you?” They whisper. The two other girls fall silent.
Something ugly boils at the back of her throat. If Mafuyu says something, she knows it will spill out. She’ll crumble apart, bubbling up into a mess that can’t be wiped away.
Mafuyu doesn’t say anything. She just jerks her head in place of a nod.
A step. Another. And another, until Mizuki is right in front of her, head is craned up. Their makeup is light today. The faint hint of eyebags peeks under their light foundation. Slowly, their arms raise. Gently, they push Mafuyu’s hands away from where they grip deep into her skin. Mizuki reaches behind her body, pulling her into a warm embrace.
And Mafuyu shatters.
She melts into their arms, feels their thin torso through her shirt, puts her face into their silky hair, and scents their rosy shampoo. They are smaller, shorter, younger, ultimately less mature than Mafuyu is. But here, the older student feels just like a child in a mother’s embrace.
Mafuyu shakes. She shakes so much that she can’t will her body to return the embrace. So she stands there, shaking like a flag in the wind, leaning onto Mizuki like they are her pole.
Ena and Kanade start talking again, their voices fluttering like soft butterflies through her ears. She can’t understand anything the two say. Should she try and listen? Her hands seize with the urge to go back to her arms, so she just grips the bottom of Mizuki’s blouse, feeling the ruffles scrunch in her grasp.
Mizuki moves their head to look up at her, eyes filled with so many indiscernible things. When Mafuyu croaks open her mouth, Mizuki lets out a soft shhh, and spindly arms squeeze even tighter.
“You’ll be ok,” they whisper softly. “I’ve got you. We’ve got you.” At that, Mafuyu lets out a sob.
It had been so long since she had cried in front of anyone. She finally lets herself go. Red eyes from before turn even redder. She tries to croak out an ‘I’m sorry’ as her tears soak into pastel pink bangs. Mizuki doesn’t reply, instead rubbing her back in reassurance. They just hold onto her as she gasps, crying so heavily that she can barely breathe.
Mafuyu is shattered.
But Mafuyu thinks that her group mates acquaintances friends will be able to pick up her pieces.