Chapter Text
It's another magnificent and fantastical morning shining down upon the adequately ornamented courtyard of Kamiyama High School. In order to bless his beloved, fellow student body, Tenma Tsukasa of the ragingly popular Fantasista Squad has decided to bring joy to all through performative art!
Their brilliant display has attracted quite the sizable crowd to gaze upon their gifts of song and dance shortly before they all attend their morning classes. That is, of course, to be expected; for very few who have laid their eyes upon his starpower can deny the shining qualities among the group’s spectacle.
The time has come in their special performance to rely upon a member of the audience. Rui once noted that engagement with others is how Tsukasa may capture another's heart with his welcoming demeanor and create a life-long fan. He will need many of those if he is to one day capture the hearts of fans all over the world.
“Now let's see…” His eyes dance across the crowd meeting each person's gaze and deciding in a fraction of a second if they might be up for the task of temporarily joining the show. He decidedly chooses against volunteering those who are too eager, for those are the people he knows will leave the show today wanting more. Tsukasa hopes to catch the attention of an unprepared passerby: perhaps someone not fully attentive to their performance yet still displaying a small amount of interest. It will be his greatness and generosity to share his spotlight that captures this unsuspecting heart.
Toward the edge of the crowd he spots a meek figure just barely seen from behind someone's shoulder. Her long, sagely hair makes her blend in with the environment surrounding her. To anyone else, she may as easily become invisible, but not to an eye as sharp as Tsukasa’s.
“You there! In the back!” The crowd parts with the grand point of Tsukasa’s finger. He meets the full gaze of the girl as she shrinks into herself before turning to hurry away—not before a glint in her amethyst eyes sends an unfamiliar pang through his body.
“It's... It's all my fault…” Her jaded voice croaks out. “It's because I was… too scared to perform in person. I shouldn't have relied on a robot…”
Everything overwhelms Tsukasa at once, and he loses himself. “So you admit it?! I should've known there was something wrong with you, staying hidden and only talking to us through a machine!
“So you're a shy girl? Not good with public performances? You think that's an excuse?! If you can't even face your audience, how can you put on a good show?!” He bellows.
Nene’s breath hitches. She runs away, muttering tearful apologies.
Rui is swift to pull Tsukasa’s arm down as the girl disappears into the school. “Perhaps someone else,” he suggests with a peculiarly quiet, darkened tone.
How… odd… this throbbing of his heart, this ache in his throat… he wasn't feeling so unwell until just now—at the recollection of this… vision… A prophecy perhaps?
Tsukasa believes he’s never seen that girl before, yet she appears so clearly in that brief glimpse of a scene in his mind's eye…
Could it be that his imagination has become too powerful for him to comprehend?! Of course! As expected of a World Future Star! He can imagine and become anything!
Along his course to World-Stardom he is bound to hit some bumps in the road—that imaginary act he just came up with wasn’t necessarily… pleasant, but it’s no matter.
The show must go on!
“Um—” Tsukasa clears his throat, yet the pain lingers. “How about you there!” He points to another audience member near the front of the crowd, a much safer choice in hindsight. “How would you like to be my assistant!?”
There will be time to reflect on his incredulous imagination at a later date.
Touya reaches for his water bottle after another successful performance on a corner of Vivid Street, trying to stabilize his breathing just as they practiced. Tsukasa has amassed such a large crowd of people surrounding them, it's difficult to grasp with this pounding in his chest.
Since taking on a four-person team, keeping up with the others’ enthusiasm has gotten twice as hard. Keeping up with Akito and Tsukasa constantly trying to out-do one another has proved especially challenging though their rivalry falls mainly on Akito’s shoulders. It doesn’t seem Tsukasa is aware of the competition. It’s hard to tell if Touya’s heart is truly with their performances or if he’s only forcing himself to struggle, fighting for his place beside truly shining stars like the two of them.
His only solace in this inner-conflict is Rui: he seems comfortable in his withheld presence for the majority of the duration of their shows. Perhaps it’s best if Touya became comfortable out of the spotlight as well. Afterall, it’s not the music or art that compels him so much as companionship and satisfaction that comes with having completed another productive practice or street performance. Even though the goal they’re working towards is not his own, it feels mildly rewarding to know he is working towards something he chose to do and not something chosen for him.
As he takes another drink, he scans the wide crowd. They should tone it down in the future before they get in trouble with nearby shopkeepers and the authorities. Street performances are common on Vivid Street, but if they grab any more attention than this, they could get into serious trouble. Perhaps it’s time for them to consider booking venues.
One person in the audience makes eye contact with him as she nervously peers through the rows of people hoping to meet one of the members of the mysterious, performative street crew. Something about her doe eyes strikes a deep-seated curiosity in Touya’s chest. He’s seen her somewhere before. She’s come to a few of their previous performances, but she’s never approached the scene close enough to meet any of them as far as Touya is aware.
After averting her gaze from Touya, she shrinks backwards, walking away in a hurry. Oh, his staring accidentally scared her off.
“I’ll be right back,” Touya calls to any of his teammates who are listening.
He takes after her without thinking through his actions. What point is there in talking to her? Touya moves as if a part of him believes he won’t have the chance again.
He taps her on her shoulder to grab her attention in the busy, narrow street. “Excuse me, I—”
“Azusawa? What are you doing here?” Touya asks.
“Um... Aoyagi-kun, aren’t you going to sing with Shinonome-kun anymore?” she asked, her voice as small as when they first met. “ I know this isn't really any of my business, but—”
“Why are you so worried about us? After what we did…” Touya interjected. “I have no intention of singing with Akito again. There's no big reason behind it.”
“But… you always look like you're having so much fun when you sing with him…
“There was a time when I didn't think I'd be able to perform at an event again because I wasn't as serious about all this as the rest of you. But I realized that no matter what anybody told me, what I really wanted was to get back up there with An-chan and sing!”
Kohane found a greater voice from deeper inside her. It almost startled Touya. ‘What is it that you really want, Aoyagi-kun?”
“Hah!” She turns, startled from his sudden contact. “Oh, you’re one of the performers…”
Touya stands frozen, unable to process what he just saw… No, what he… remembered?
“I’m sorry, can I help you with something?” she asks, quiet and much smaller than he thought she was from a distance.
“No, uh… I should be the one to apologize. I think… I’ve mistaken you for someone else.”
“Oh, I see…” She lowers her head and clears her throat. “Well, you all did a great job back there.”
Touya finds his words again. “Thank you. You should come see us again—if you have the opportunity, that is.”
“Y—Yeah, I’d like that.” She hesitates. “My friends might like to see one of your performances too. We’re in a theater troupe together… so they might be interested in your guys’ style.” She smiles nervously.
“Is that so? May I ask, where do you—”
“Hey! Touya!” Akito calls over from behind him. “Why the hell d’you run off like that, man?”
“I’m sorry, I just…”
“I, uh… really should be going now…” The girl bows her head towards them. “Well done, you two.”
“Um, thanks?” Akito can’t respond in time before she walks away. “Who was that? Friend of yours?”
“Azusawa…” Touya mutters under his breath, his eyes fixed to where she melds into the sea of people.
“What?”
“I—What?” Touya looks at Akito with confusion.
“Did you say ‘Azusawa?’ s’that her name?” His eyebrows raise.
“I… I don’t know anyone by that name, do I?”
Akito stares at Touya, concerned. “Whatever, dude.” He pats Touya on the back with a shallow breath and walks back to where they left the others to entertain the crowd by themselves. “I’m gonna head back before Kamishiro gets the cops called on us.”
“I’m… right behind you.”
Touya continues looking into the crowd where the twin tailed-girl disappeared. He never asked for her name, but he felt it come to him from somewhere so deep within himself:
Who is Azusawa Kohane, and…
Why does it feel like Touya should miss her?
The sun glints off of the back of Rui’s duck animatronic, shining directly in his eye as he takes a bow for his meager crowd of three families. Only a few months ago he would’ve considered this crowd to be fairly standard for his one-man shows tucked away in the streets of Phoenix Wonderland. He’s been spoiled for attention as of late. Despite his street performance crew’s growing popularity, Rui finds himself craving these smaller, more intimate performances more often.
He kneels down to a particularly enamored young boy, allowing him a closer look at the duck before its propellers pop out of the hatch on its back and it flies away, to the boy’s astonishment. Right before the boy finally looks away from the sky, Rui finishes the final twist of a balloon animal with a yellow body and orange bill resembling the animatronic. His face lights up, and Rui’s heart swells. He’s missed this.
As his show routine nears its conclusion, Rui spots a couple of security guards weaving through the crowd. He’ll be making an early exit from this stage, but he lasted much longer than he thought he would. He quickly divulges a brief version of the end of his story before packing up his props in his backpack and exiting with a bow.
“You there!” One of the guards calls out. “I thought we’ve seen the last of you!”
That’s his queue. He recalls his duck with the remote in his coat pocket and scoops it under his arm as he runs.
One good thing to come from the intensity at which Akito, Touya, and Tsukasa burn is that it forces Rui to follow their speed. He’s much more light on his feet evading park-goers while trying to outpace the guards than he remembers. Soon enough he spots a familiar hiding spot among a trellis covered in vines serving as a backdrop for a water fountain just outside a restricted, employee-only building disguised as a colorful, whimsical townhouse. The area is just crowded enough that he slouches a bit lower to hide his bright purple ensemble amid the crowd and slips behind the trellis.
Keeping an eye out for his surroundings through the slivers in the greenery, he slowly makes his way deeper behind the curtain of vines. If anyone noticed him slip behind here, they didn’t pay him any mind as the security guards furiously scanned the area, obviously searching for a suspicious character.
Rui releases his breath in relief as they pass. He crouches to sit on his heels while he catches his breath. He’s even missed this game of cat and mouse. Performing on Vivid street is far too easy—catching the attention of anyone walking past with shows of singing, dancing, and playing music is common there. If anything, people are more likely to move right past them, not even blinking in their direction as they would with any other mundanity. That’s not what Rui wants.
He wants to turn heads. He wants to create something nobody would dare look away from. With the kinds of stories in his heart and the kind of tech he wants to use to make it happen, the best place he can attempt such shows with even a thin veil of legality is here at Phoenix Wonderland. He can get away with much more imaginative stunts here than he would in a regular street show as his patrons can very easily make the assumption that he’s supposed to be here.
On more than one occasion has Rui considered that an actual job as a performer at Phoenix Wonderland would serve him just as much as it would the park, but somewhere in that loose plan he knows no matter what they hired him for, he would never be able to make the shows he wants.
“You come here a lot, don’t you?”
Rui looks to his side and finds a vibrant pink-haired girl kneeling beside him, overlooking the park from the same breaks in the vines’ leaves.
“I’ve seen you doing shows here sometimes,” she whispers loudly. “I use this hiding place too.”
“Is that so?” Rui inquires. This girl looks familiar.
It’s true, he’s seen her many times enjoying his impromptu performances here in the open passages of Phoenix Wonderland, but there’s another vision in the back of his mind where she’s appeared before. She speaks quite casually for someone also seemingly hiding from someone at this park, but Rui can’t recall ever meeting her before.
“Sure do! I like pretending I’m a Secret Agent Super Spy trying to get Top Secret information from around the park. The game is over when Mr. Kigurumi finds me.”
A kigurumi? There’s a handful of costumed characters that roam the park. Perhaps there’s a certain one she avoids or maybe she acts as all of them are her enemies.
“Then I suppose you wouldn’t happen to know of a way out of the park without getting caught by the enemy?”
“Of course!” She grins mischievously. Instantly, her voice drops into a serious, focused character. “Follow me, Agent Mr. Robo Actor. Try to keep up.”
“Copy that. I’ll be right behind you.” Rui effortlessly follows her lead, playing into her character and sneaking through less visible passages throughout the park. They slide behind the employee building and through a narrow path between the bushes and the park wall as a Secret Agent and their trainee making their first grand escape from a heist. In the spirit of their game, Rui resists the urge to ask her what she thinks of his shows, or how she knows exactly how to get out of the park undetected, or where else he might’ve seen her before, lest their voices draw the attention of other staff.
It’s not long before she takes him through a loose break in the chain link fence separating the facade of the park’s fairy tale aesthetic from the real-world happenings keeping the park functioning. She seems to have taken him to what appears to be the outskirts of a loading zone for supply deliveries.
“We made it!” She cheers before returning to her agent character. “We’re in the clear.”
“So, this is where we part, Agent… My apologies, I haven’t gotten your name.”
“Oh, I’m Emu!”
Emu… Her unique name is indicative. As in Ootori Emu—the youngest daughter of the CEO who owns this park, the head of the Ootori Group. Rui should’ve suspected as much. It’s less curious as to why the two of them made their way around the park too easily without being stopped. He should be much more grateful to have been found by someone with a sense of adventure like her instead of getting into even more trouble than he was due.
“Thank you, Agent Emu. I greatly appreciate your guidance and assistance with my escape.”
“It was my pleasure, recruit!”
“Emu!” A demanding voice calls from the nearest building. Two well-dressed men with dark hair and polished appearances emerge, each resembling Emu and the family head—her brothers, no doubt.
“What do you think you're doing?” shouts the man with slightly longer hair, brighter eyes, and more worn scowl.
Emu’s eyes widen with worry. She turns back to Rui and all but nearly pushes him toward the exit. “If you follow that driveway, it'll put you back onto Inokashira Street.” Her hands barely touched his chest, yet the slightest connection sent Rui’s mind flying:
“Ah, I see… You no longer have any hopes or dreams…” Rui concludes, maintaining a level-head and even tone. “Such a pity. That also explains why you can't comprehend someone who has these sorts of ideals. Or is it simply too much to bear and you've already given up...?”
He continues, “Indeed, believing in a dream can be a rather perilous endeavor, but fear not. Your younger sister is a renowned master of this art. She is able to believe in something that all others have long since given up on…
“Which is why I sincerely hope that you will stop insulting my friends like this.” His demand cuts through the niceties and disarms his employers’ arguments.
“Ru—Rui! Please, it's okay!” Emu begs, “I'll be fine...!”
“—and then the station isn't far from there.”
What…?
“Agent Mr. Robo Man? Come in, Mr. Robo Man! Our position's been comprominised!”
Rui shakes away whatever trance caught him staring at Emu. “Ah, yes, excuse me. I'll… be on my way then.”
“Come and show your plays again soon!” Emu cheers and waves him off as she heads into the direction of where her brothers are rapidly approaching.
There’s not a very likely chance he’ll be allowed inside the park again, but her request was so earnest, he might try again just for her.
“I’ll see you around, Emu-kun.”
Rui forces one foot in front of the other despite something deep within him screaming to stay. He retreats to the imaginative vision of Emu. He lets himself get carried away thinking of what it might be like to play with her again.
In these visions he sees a broad and strong phoenix taking to the skies, chasing a magnificent star with wings. Together they carry a siren's song that leaves Rui defeated to their every wish—none so powerful as the one they share. They live in each other's light to share that wish with the world.
Just how much is Rui's imagination able to torture him so?
The bead of condensation dripping down Akito’s glass is far more interesting than whatever story Weirdo #1 is droning on about—and it’s especially less infuriating than watching An wait tables with less than a few threads keeping her strung together.
No one else seems to notice: through her cheery demeanor and natural banter, her brow is more tightly knit, jaw tensed, and her eyes are lightly glazed over from exhaustion. They all miss it at a glance since she’s still strong and even moving around the room with a tray of glasses balanced on one hand more deftly than before. However, giving up her time on Vivid Street may as well have been for nothing if all becoming a pop idol has done for her is improve her coordination. At the cost of losing sleep, leaving her community, and putting up with the rumors about…
She’s trying so hard. And for what?
Touya gently nudges Akito’s side. He’s staring.
Back to his glass of ice.
They all finished eating a while ago. Akito’s leg bounces, restless to get out of Weekend Garage and go practice. Hell, he’d even settle for just being able to go home and get his homework done. Something changed about this place. It used to be a prime hangout spot when he was in middle school, but now it’s lost its comfort. Probably because now he only ever comes with these two weirdos and Touya, who agrees with anything they say with stars in his eyes. Maybe Akito is exhausted too.
“An.” Her dad calls for her from behind the bar just loud enough for her to catch it and for Akito’s head to perk up slightly.
“Coming—” Her voice falls flat against the lull of the room. She excuses herself from whatever nearby table she was talking to. On her way, she stops at theirs. “Are you guys all set? Need anything else before you go?”
Akito plasters on the nicest face he can. “I think we’re good.” He doesn’t wait for anyone else at the table to answer. “Can you bring us our bill when you get a moment?”
“Sure thing, I’ll just get these out of your way.” An grabs a small pile of their dishes to add to her stack already precariously balanced on the crook of her elbow. “I’ll be back in a minute to grab the rest.”
“Thank you.” Akito’s smile fades as soon as her back is turned.
“Oh my, you weren’t kidding, Aoyagi-kun. His ability to change personas like an On-and-Off switch is truly a marvel.” Nobody asked for Weirdo #2’s comment.
Akito does his best to ignore how their conversation derails into his acting. Akito’s not an actor. He’s a singer and performer. He’ll do some dance moves to hype up a crowd, but he’s not going to act out a play or whatever crap the Weirdo Wombo Combo is scheming about.
This is so stupid. They’re wasting time they should be training, building their repertoire. or even just practicing and refining what they already know. How are their performances going to get good enough to surpass Rad Weekend, while they’re sitting here discussing Musical theater BS?
Akito switches legs. He’s starting to wear the one out. He rakes his hand through his hair, and his gaze happens upon An and her dad, the owner of the cafe, Ken. She turns away from him with the closest thing to a sour expression he’s seen her give. Akito wouldn't have ever thought she was capable of such a look. She instead focuses on the dishes at the sink just behind the bar. Like watching a train wreck in real time, Akito can’t get himself to look away from whatever light she’s been holding onto dimming.
Without hearing what her dad said, Akito only notices that her replies go cold and short. Ken leaves her be once a customer approaches the bar, and he gets called away. An delves into her work at the sink with an obvious frustration. She scrubs away at a plate like it was the one to upset her.
Akito desperately searches within himself to find some pity. She’s obviously having some sort of bad day. Who can blame her? What with everything the tabloids are saying about her and Nagi.
But it’s not there. If any amount of pity does exist, it’s drowned out by vindication. What did she expect? That being an idol would be easier? That it was the best path for her? She doesn’t belong in that world, and it’s tearing her apart from the inside and taking its time breaking where it hurts most.
He can’t stand to watch it for another second.
Akito gathers the rest of his table’s dishes and brings them to the counter for An on the other side. He wants to figure out what is going on with her, but more importantly, he wants to get FS out of here. If he has to clear their table himself to get the message across to them, then so be it.
“Here,” Akito sets the stack plates on the counter while handing her each glass wedged in his arm.
“Oh, thanks.” She hardly acknowledges him. “Sorry, I’m a bit busy. If you’re ready to leave, go get your check from my dad.” She doesn’t look up nor gesture to the cash register.
“Is everything okay with you?” The question comes out more pointed than he intended.
She finally looks up and stares at him blankly. He swears her eye even twitched at him. “Excuse me?”
He can’t hold back the questions badgering him at the top of his mind. “What about Rad Weekend? Are you still trying to surpass it?”
One of her few threads snaps. She straightens her expression and offers a sorry excuse for a laugh. “Who knows! We are getting to be pretty popular.” Her resolve is weakening.
“Popularity doesn’t have much to do with it though.”
An looks at him with a strained smile and scoffs, “I know that, it was just a joke.”
So this a joke to her?
Akito has to steady himself with a quiet breath, gripping the glass cup any harder won’t stop his blood from boiling. What happened to the girl he saw on the street corner a couple years ago? If Rad Weekend is a joke to her, then what should it be to him?
“Can I help you with something or will you let me get back to work?”
Akito doesn’t even understand why he approached her though if he’s honest with himself, he’d much rather try to get through to her than sit at that table another cursed minute.
There’s also that.
A question that doesn't sit right with him. He has no business asking about her, especially not to An’s face, especially not while he’s currently pissing her off. They aren't even friends.
Everything about this is wrong. Akito isn’t the spiritual type, but it feels like, by some divine intervention, he stumbled into a bad timeline where one of the creators of Rad Weekend went missing.
And An has to keep going—working as if nothing is wrong.
The rumors have been making their rounds ever since An mentioned her Aunt Nagi being her biggest inspiration in an interview or something. An thought she's been working in America for the past three years. That’s the story Akito knew, and it’s what she told the interviewer, but nobody’s been able to find the Nagi in An’s stories. And, unfortunately, the freaks who went digging into An’s personal life have a point. It is weird that nobody can find any kind of information about Nagi online. There’s no public record of her performing anywhere. Even if she was only singing on street corners and at underground bars, somebody somewhere in America has to have heard of her, but nothing is coming up.
Some people suspect An’s story is fake. They’re ‘calling out’ her company for forcing her to lie or something.
Akito knows the truth. He was there that legendary night. He can’t expect just anyone to understand what Rad Weekend means to her… to both of them. Only the people in the livehouse that night have any idea just how powerful that night’s performance was. But above all, nobody has the right to tell An what her inspirations are and are not, regardless of where they’re leading her. Including Akito. He can make himself understand that much, at the very least.
What Akito doesn’t understand is how she can let this all slide. She can’t live with this gross invasion of privacy for the rest of her life. So what the hell is she going to do about it?
“I just need to ask you one last thing…”
“Yeah? And what’s that?” She’s mad. She can’t hide the fire in her words. If only, Akito wishes, she could be in the right place to let it blaze.
“About—”
As Akito hands her the last glass, she basically rips it from him. Her fingers slide over his and his heart stops.
“You…”
“Huh? Me?” An grabs her arm. Her way of hiding as much of herself as she can when backed into a corner.
Akito isn’t one to dance around the elephant in the room. He cuts straight to his concern. “Something's been bothering you lately. Enough to make you look sad or worried.”
“Oh… You knew, huh…? About this thing I've been feeling.”
“It wasn't completely obvious or anything, and my guess is that Touya still doesn't know.
“You feel like you're getting left behind…” Akito states, plainly.
Akito isn’t sure how the glass wound up on the floor in pieces, but the ratting of the glass scattered across the floor snaps him out of whatever memory he got tripped up in. It had fallen through both of their grasps, slipped through their hands and shattered against the edge of the sink, spilling pieces in the sink and the floor at An’s feet.
An jumps back. Her eyes meet Akito’s in equal measure of shock and confusion. It takes a moment for him to register that the entire cafe and bar went pin-drop silent.
“Is everything alright over here?” Ken finally breaks the silence, and quiet conversations resume around the room.
An isn’t able to bring back a fake smile. “Sorry about that everyone!” She calls to the room. “We’re all good.” Her voice wavers. She doesn’t turn to acknowledge her dad. “I’m—gonna go get the broom.”
Ken turns to Akito. “Are you alright, son?”
“Oh… Now I see. You were worried about me. Thanks, Akito.”
Akito can’t breathe. The room is suddenly hot, then cold, and slightly spinning. And he just… heard voices—her voice—in his head just now, and again, on repeat.
“You're getting left behind…”
He clears as much uncertainty out of his throat as he can. “Yes, sir. Just uh… came for our check.”
“You were worried about me.”
He has got to get out of here.
“Follow me up the front, and I’ll get you checked out.”
“Understood.”
Akito’s feet pivot to leave but he can’t tear his eyes away from the hall where An disappears. When the last glint of her star pins dangling in her ponytail disappears behind the corner, Akito knows he won’t get the chance to approach her again. She never reappears with the broom, and no one sees her again for the rest of the night.