Chapter Text
The glow of Kanade’s monitor cast a pale, silvery light across her cluttered room, the green digits blinking. Empty ramen cups remained teetered on the desk’s edge, their foil lids glinting faintly, while crumpled sheets of music paper spilled onto the floor, edges curling like wilted petals, and the air was stale, heavy with the hum of Kanade's aging desktop with its fan stuttering.
04:37 AM.
Kanade leaned back, her chair creaking under her slight frame. Strands of silvery-white hair snagged on her worn blue jacket, unchanged for hours. Her fingers trembled faintly as the ache in her wrists spread across her arms.
Kanade rubbed her eyes, the screen's glow blurring into a haze, her DAW software displaying a jagged waveform.
Today's demo, rough, but at least it was enough to make Mafuyu's heart warm, stable, steady. Kanade could no longer afford making any more mistakes, any more songs that wouldn't tung at the strings of Mafuyu.
She thought that after the Asahina family meeting, all would be well, and Mafuyu would eventually recover with the proper assistance of her family, and most importantly Nightcord. And yet, just a week later, Mafuyu came back crying in her arms, sobbing her hearts out as she held onto Kanade as if she was the only object anchoring her to reality, keeping her from slipping into another place that no one could ever reach.
Kanade had failed. As a saviour, and as a friend. She couldn't save Mafuyu, couldn't prevent the breakdown, couldn't prevent the arguments that Mafuyu and her mother had.
A part of her knows that this was to be expected. Mafuyu's trauma would not heal overnight, and her mother's behavior would not change in an instant. The two truly cared for each other, even if their actions didn't speak so, Kanade could tell from the two dinners that she was invited to at the Asahina household.
Another part of her tugs her, whispers to her, and chains her.
You could have stopped this from the first place.
You promised that you would save Mafuyu.
Yet Here you are again. Full circle, the clock hands continuing to tick, yet only progressing by an hour.
She exhaled, light tapping herself on the cheeks, and clicked save with a deliberate tap. Shaking her head to clear the fog of exhaustion, she reached for her microphone.
“I’ve finished the demo for our next song.”
“That fast!?” Mizuki’s voice erupted through her headphones, the sudden volume jolting Kanade awake from her tired haze. “I’m still tweaking the last frames of our next MV! K, you’re a machine!”
“Well... this is K we’re talking about.” Ena’s voice crackled through, her laugh laced with exasperation and an admiration that Kanade had frankly grown used to. “Did you eat before you finished? Don’t make Yuki drag you to the kitchen.”
Kanade’s lips twitched into a faint smile. She glanced at the cold tea cup by her mouse, its contents untouched, and rubbed her eyes again, the ache of exhaustion settling deeper, a fog blurring the edges of her thoughts.
A vague memory surfaced—a half-eaten onigiri from hours ago, its wrapper still crumpled on the desk, seaweed flecks scattered like confetti.
“I… ate earlier,” she mumbled, her voice unconvincing even to herself.
Mafuyu, seated cross-legged next to Kanade on a chair, stayed silent. Her lavender hair spilled over her shoulders, catching the dim light of her laptop screen, where lyrics glowed in a soft white font. One hand rested on an open dictionary, its pages dog-eared and annotated, while the other tapped lightly on her keyboard.
"I made sure she ate." Mafuyu said. Her eyes flicked to Kanade, sharp but soft, with a silent check-in that lingered longer than needed.
Too long, perhaps. Kanade could feel daggers walking up her back from all the staring.
"When was her last meal, Yuki?"
"At 9:32 PM."
"And when was your last meal, Enanan?" Mizuki chimed in, her voice sparkling with mischief.
"Around the same time as when Yuki and K had theirs," Ena replied, a touch of pride in her tone. “Mom cooked up curry for us today.”
"Ehhh~! Why didn't you invite me over!" Mizuki's voice rose in mock outrage. "I wanna try the Shinonome's deluxe cooking!"
"Because you'd be too much of a nuisance! You'd yap and yap and YAP, bothering my beautiful and TASTY dinner, hmph!"
"Admit it Enanan~ You love my chatter," Mizuki continued to push the buttons of the artist further.
"And what proof do you have, oh great prosecutor?" Ena retorted.
"Ahem!" Mizuki faked a cough, her tone turning theatrical. "Your honor K, the prosecution side would like to present their evidence for this case!"
A Nightcord notification pinged, pulling Kanade's gaze to the screen. She moved her mouse until it was hovering over the highlighted channel. Amia had sent an attachment.
A photo of Ena, caught mid-bite, devouring a slice of cheesecake with a look of pure bliss, her eyes wide as she glared at Mizuki’s phone camera, a crumb clinging to her cheek and her chestnut hair slightly mussed.
Kanade’s lips curved into a soft smile.
"You—! I swear, Amia, the NEXT time I see you in SEKAI, you are DONE FOR!"
"Ahahaha!" Mizuki’s laugh rang out, bright and unrepentant. “Okay, but this demo’s gonna be a banger, right? We’re totally due for a celebration! Both for K's new demo and the song that we're going to release!"
"Once you finish the MV." Mafuyu added, her tone dry but pointed.
"Yep!" Mizuki pressed her chest out with a proud look. How about a new spot this time? I found the perfect place.”
Another Nightcord ping. Mizuki had shared a link to a restaurant’s website, its homepage splashed with vibrant photos of towering parfaits and sizzling plates.
"This one has KILLER parfaits. We gotta try it!” Her excitement crackled, infectious, pulling a small chuckle from Kanade despite the fatigue tugging at her.
"Hmm... super deluxe large french fries and... curry.." Ena snorted, her tone teasing. “You just want an excuse to drown in your favourite foods, Amia."
Another ‘hmph,’ then a softer edge. “Yuki, you in?”
Mafuyu’s voice finally broke through, “The tea looks... satisfactory.” A faint rustle of pages followed, her dictionary shifting slightly.
Ena’s eyes narrowed. “Satisfactory?” Ena echoed, folding her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh? You can't even taste.”
“I merely suggest that the beverage selection possesses a certain... modicum of acceptability, though it lacks the effulgent sophistication one might anticipate from a truly perspicuous establishment.” She paused.
“A modicum? Effulgent? Are you ordering tea or writing a thesis?”
Another pause, the faint rustle of pages.
“I’m merely articulating my observations with commensurate clarity. Unlike some, whose culinary proclivities seem to gravitate toward plebeian indulgences.”
"HEY! Friendly fire, friendly fire, Yuki! I'm supposed to be your ally!" Mizuki cried out.
Kanade, who had been quietly scrolling through her phone, looked up with a soft hum. “From the pictures on the website... it’s got those big booths, and…” She trailed off, her mind picturing the cozy glow of the diner, the clink of plates, the warmth of her friends’ laughter.
Her voice faltered, lost in the image. “…uhm…”
“See, perfect place!” Mizuki chirped, her voice practically sparkling. “Big booths mean we can sprawl out, maybe sneak in some song planning over dessert. What’s the vibe, though? Like, do we go all out with the fancy drinks, or keep it chill with soda and fries?”
Ena’s laugh was sharp, playful. “Calm your horses, Amia. I say we pick the all-you-can-eat breadsticks. Yuki can judge the tea.”
A beat, then her tone softened. “K, do you have a preference?"
Kanade hesitated.
She shouldn't be indulging in this moment. She should be composing, slaving her life away to atone for her most recent sin. She opened her mouth, and something else came out.
“I… need to visit my dad tomorrow,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve got a lot to bring him—some scores, a new music player for his room, things to make it… better.” Her fingers tightened around the frayed edge of her jacket. “But…”
“Are you sure you can carry all that?” Mafuyu asked.
Kanade let out a dry laugh, her fingers twitching against the fabric.
"A-ahaha... Probably?"
“You don’t eat enough, and you don’t sleep.” Mafuyu's words were stark, but there was no malice, just that unflinching honesty that Kanade had come to rely on.
"Then how about we come and help you?" Ena cut in.
"Eh?"
"Well.. it'd be good exercise, especially for Gymnanan and K. We can go to the restaurant once we're finished." Mizuki added. Kanade could practically see Mizuki's grin over the voice chat.
"Stop with the names! And I'm PLENTY healthy, thank you."
"Ara?" Mizuki's voice turned sly. “Those recent selfies say otherwise, Enanan~ A little… fluffier, maybe?”
"Lies and slander!" Ena shot back.
Mafuyu cleared her throat, cutting through the banter.
Kanade glanced at her, catching the faint upward curve of her lips. A rare, subtle smile.
Even though Kanade didn't want to trouble her friends, deep down she knew that she couldn't carry her baggage alone this trip, and it would be embarrassing if she ran into Minori on her way back and had to rely on her.
While still pondering on alternative choices-
"It's decided then." Mafuyu peeled over to look at Kanade, abruptly interrupting Kanade's thoughts. "I'm afraid you'll fall over again if we don't help."
"Ugh..." Kanade seemingly deflated like a balloon, guilt pooling in her stomach.
“Yeah, count me in. I’m not letting you drag all that to the hospital alone.” Ena replied, her voice gruff. "...and it would help with my waist..."
Kanade swore that she heard Ena say something.
“You guys… don’t have to,” Kanade whispered, her voice trembling. “But… thank you.”
Mizuki’s laugh was bright, like a chime cutting through the haze. “Psh, it’s nothing! Now, back to the restaurant—breadsticks or parfaits? I’m voting both!”
Ena groaned, her tone playful. “You’re impossible. K, pick a side before Amia pre-orders the entire menu.”
Kanade smiled, small but genuine, the weight in her chest easing, if only a little.
She leaned closer to the mic. “Both sounds good. And… maybe some tea for Yuki.”
Mafuyu’s faint hum of approval crackled through, followed by a burst of laughter from the group—warm, vibrant, a fleeting shield against the cold.
Kanade closed her eyes, letting the sound wrap around her, hoping its warmth would linger through tomorrow’s visit.
And yet, like embers in a dying fire, the warmth would fade, leaving only shadows to whisper through the night.