Work Text:
“I can’t do it anymore, I hate this!”
“Ena…”
“No, I mean it. I ruin everything I touch, everyone would be so much happier without me. I’m selfish and mean and- God… I wish I’d never been born.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Of course I do… The world would be a lot better off with Ena Shinonome… I’d be a lot better off.”
“If that’s what would make you happiest, then…”
Mizuki frowned when they woke up, not even bothering to cover their eyes from the blinding sunlight that streamed inside through their curtains.
With an empty sigh, they forced themselves upright to push their now tangled curls out of their face. They had stayed up super late last night to talk to the rest of N25, even later than usual.
They were still struggling to find an artist to illustrate their videos.
They’d managed to commission a few different ones here and there, but none seemed to really stick. Mizuki, K, and Yuki could all agree that none felt right.
It was strange spending their entire nights talking to complete strangers like this.
K and Yuki seemed nice enough, though Yuki was much more distant and cold at times, but it was clear that the two of them had a kind of bond that Mizuki just… didn’t fit into.
There was something special there, and as much as Mizuki was rooting for them, it made them feel lonelier than ever.
Forcing themselves to get ready, Mizuki quickly mustered up a goodbye to their sister before rushing out of the house to avoid being late again. They knew An would only let them get away with it so many times before she’d start enforcing the rules.
“Barely made it…” Mizuki huffed under their breath as they collapsed onto their seat and dropped their head onto their desk. They tilted their head up to observe their classmates. They were all talking amongst themselves contentedly, and Mizuki tried not to feel that crippling desire to be a part of it.
Everyone seemed to have someone . That one person you could talk to all night and never get tired, the kind of person you could confide your secrets to, the kind of person you could see yourself staying with forever, that you could be selfish with.
Mizuki wanted that, so badly.
They used to hope it could be An. She was one of Mizuki’s closest friends, afterall.
And Mizuki knew that if they asked, An would gladly spend time with them, happily talking away and keeping them company.
But… An had Kohane.
Kohane was a sweet, shy girl that had wandered into Ken’s cafe a few times and immediately caught An’s eye. They became close immediately, even forming a music partnership to surpass RAD WEEKEND - Something that had been An’s dream for years.
They both were really talented, and Mizuki was happy for them, really.
But whenever they’d see the way the two would look at each other, all blushes and saccharine sweet words, they’d feel that bitter jealousy rise up like bile.
Then there was Rui.
Mizuki and Rui were all each other had back in middle school, but Mizuki knew that their friendship at the time wasn’t exactly… what was best for them.
They had much in common with their loneliness, but both felt lonely even when together. They weren’t what the other needed.
Years passed and Mizuki watched with awe as Rui joined that theater troupe, suddenly becoming more confident, happier.
He was no longer afraid of being eccentric or a little bit weird. He didn’t care what anyone other than his troupe thought of him. He was learning to let people in, rekindling his friendship with Nene and getting to know Emu and Tsukasa.
It wasn’t uncommon to see Tsukasa and Rui sprinting down the halls to get away from An after an experiment gone wrong, laughing despite Tsukasa’s grumbles of complaint.
The two of them hurt to look at, too.
Glancing around their classroom, Mizuki couldn’t help but notice Toya Aoyagi sitting by himself too.
He was cold, and usually distant from everyone. It was well known that he was a talented classical musician, and he would rush home immediately from school to get back to his practices.
He never spoke to anyone, or tried to make any connections. He’d just walk through school with those unfeeling eyes like a robot.
Mizuki wondered if he felt lonely too.
When class finished, Mizuki stretched and gathered their things to shove them in their bag. As they walked outside they immediately crashed into a taller figure and stumbled backwards.
“Oh, sorry-” Mizuki tried to remember the boy's name. They knew that he was in class 2-A along with An and Nene, but it wasn’t like he had much of a presence. He seemed a bit reserved, if not shy, and usually hid behind his hood.
Something about him bothered Mizuki, like a distant thought telling them, Something is wrong.
He just shrugged and ran his fingers through his light brown hair. “No prob.”
The boy blended into the crowd and left Mizuki standing there wondering why they had the strangest urge to tease him, and call him lil bro.
Akito didn’t speak when he got into the boys' change room. None of his teammates seemed all that interested in talking to him. If he was lucky he’d get a few nods of acknowledgement before they went back to talking and laughing.
Soccer was kind of all that Akito had.
He was miserable playing the sport, and knew that it wasn’t something he loved anymore, but what else could he possibly do? He was good at it, not absolutely amazing, but good enough that he’d consider himself valuable to his team.
Some deeper part of him wanted to be great, though. Not at soccer necessarily, but something.
He shook the thought out of his head. What could he possibly be great at? His father reminded him every day how mediocre he was, but pathetically, Akito clung to those moments since they were the only times his father ever seemed to acknowledge his existence.
His mother wasn’t much better. She was there, sure, but that was about it. She had no interest in spending time with her son, or encouraging him, or supporting him.
Akito supposed that indifference was still better than the cruelty his father could show.
His mind drifted back to the girl he had bumped into earlier. He knew of them well enough, but there was some kind of familiarity that bothered him, clinging to him like the tune of a song he couldn’t remember, no matter how hard he tried.
Soccer practice went the way it always did. Akito had long grown used to his repetitive, boring days, and wasn’t expecting much more than that.
As he walked out of the school, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, Akito tried to figure out why his brain felt so muddy these days. It was infuriating, and made him want to rip out his hair, but there was no use. He felt like he was losing it.
He looked up to see a surprising sight. Toya Aoyagi was sitting on a park bench, eyes downcast despite his prim posture, fingernails digging into his palms.
Akito had seen Toya perform before, and had always been mesmerized by how talented he was. Something about him resonated with Akito, and he always wondered if Toya truly loved the music he was playing. Was he also just living day-to-day, without any passion behind his work?
As he walked closer, Toya looked up for just a moment, their eyes meeting. The musician’s were rimmed with red - he had been crying. Akito hesitated. Should he sit down? Try to comfort a stranger? Maybe gain a friend out of it?
No, that’d be ridiculous. Akito just averted his eyes and kept moving forward.
He had no business trying to help anyone else with their lives.
The Shinonome residence was empty, as usual.
Akito didn’t know where his parents went during the day, and he didn’t really care, either.
It’s not like they cared if he were to come home late - or at all. Not that he had anywhere to go.
He flung his bag to the ground by his shoes as he searched his fridge, sighing at the realization that no food was left for him. Again. He wondered if it’d be selfish of him to run to the nearest cafe and grab some pancakes. Of course if he did he’d have to bring some back for…
No one. Why was he thinking that? Akito had never brought back anything for his parents before, and he saw no reason to start now.
Feeling an uncomfortable chill wash over him, Akito decided he’d go out later, and made his way upstairs to his room. As he walked through he came to an abrupt stop at one door.
It was an unused room, Akito knew that. It was probably storage for his father’s art or whatever.
But regardless he found himself knocking, waiting for a voice to tell him to go away, leave them alone.
The feeling was so ominous, so wrong, that Akito swung open the door, searching.
But there was no one there. Of course there wasn’t. He looked at the blank, untouched canvasses and thought that someone else could put them to better use. But who?
He growled in frustration. What was going on with him? Who was he searching for? Why did he feel so lonely, when this was how life had always been for him?
It was as if there were a persistent part of his brain whispering that things could be different. That he wouldn’t be alone in his big, empty house.
What a cruel thought, since Akito could never have that.
The buzz of his phone snapped him out of whatever trance he was in, so Akito quickly slammed the door shut and made his way to his room. He opened up his texting app to see a message from one of the only people that ever made an effort to talk to him.
WORLD FUTURE STAR TSUKASA TENMA!!! ☆☆
4:15pm AKITO!!!! DEAREST UNDERCLASSMAN AND FRIEND!!!!!
4:15pm I am humbly inviting you to come see my show on Phoenix stage!!!! I know that you are likely very busy, but I implore you to come watch!!! I can promise it will be mindblowing, showstopping anfijgijfkgsdj
4:16pm dfjdksjfHI THIS IS EMUffdgg dgWONDAHOIFDFKJGKSFdv
4:19pm Ah, sorry about that! My troupe mate stole my phone. Anyway!!!! I’m excited to see you there at 6:00pm!!!! >:DDDDD
Akito sighed miserably. This wouldn’t be the first time that Tenma tried to force Akito to watch his shows. Ever since the upperclassman found Akito sitting alone one day and went off on a bizarre monologue about friendship or whatever, he’d made a strange effort to reach out and talk to him.
It was annoying, but it was also one kind of nice, having someone notice him being there.
But he’d rather die than let Tenma know that.
Deciding to just bite the bullet and go see the stupid show, Akito finally stopped at a cafe to get those pancakes he wanted. He had to consciously remind himself to only buy one portion, though he still had no clue why.
When he finally got to the park stage, Akito immediately felt out of place at the sight of a lot of his classmates sitting together laughing and throwing popcorn at one another. He fidgeted for just a moment before reluctantly making his way to one of the only seats in the back row.
“Oh, Akito!” He flinched when he saw that An was talking to him, sitting next to a quiet blonde girl who just smiled politely. “I’m really surprised to see you here! I didn’t know you were into this kinda stuff?”
“I’m not.” He huffed, hoping the cold response would be the end of that.
It wasn’t.
“Kohane here has been watching all their shows for a while, they’re honestly really good! Rui and Tsukasa may be a pain at school, but I gotta admit they’re talented!”
“Mhm.”
Akito tried to scooch away to avoid the conversation he hadn’t prepared himself for, when someone else cut him off by sitting at the end seat, effectively trapping him.
He sighed again before noticing that it was the same girl he had bumped into earlier. They seemed tired, or rather they seemed defeated.
Akito could relate to that.
“Um. Akiyama, right?” He cringed at the sound of his hesitant voice.
“Oh, hey L-” They coughed. “Akito.”
Something about that made Akito freeze. Whatever they were about to say, why did that feel more right than his actual name?
“So… You’re here too?”
“Yup! They tried to pour enthusiasm into their voice, but Akito recognised that mask all too well. “My friend Rui is the director and he invited me, soo…”
“Cool. Uh, Tsukasa forced me to come.”
Mizuki laughed. “Yeah, sounds like him.”
There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence before they both started speaking at the same time.
“Have we met before? I know it sounds weird-”
“Doesn’t something feel wrong about this?”
They both trailed off, looking at each other with the same perplexed expression.
“...You feel like something is off, too?” Mizuki asked slowly.
Akito nodded hesitantly. “Yeah. Really off. I think… Well it kind of feels like something is missing, right?”
“Yeah!” Mizuki looked relieved to not be considered crazy as they faced Akito on the uncomfortable bench. “Or maybe someone…”
“What do you think-”
“DEAREST AUDIENCE!” A voice - Tsukasa - boomed out, effectively quieting the crowd. “I AM PLEASED TO PRESENT TO YOU WONDERLANDXSHOWTIME’S NEWEST SHOW!”
Akito crossed his arms and tried to focus on the entire show, his leg shaking with anxiousness as he desperately hoped the intermission would come soon and take him out of his misery. He needed to talk to Akiyama about this more before it actually drove him to insanity.
Suddenly in the show, Akito looked up and noticed a painting that sat in the background of the set. It seemed like a self-portrait of some kind, painted on canvas with vibrant colours. It almost felt too distracting as a prop, like it demanded all of Akito’s attention instead of the performers.
One look at Mizuki told him that they felt the exact same way, staring at the painting with an intensity that gave him goosebumps.
The second the intermission began, Mizuki yanked Akito out of his seat, ignoring his protests, and pulled him past the crowd and towards the backstage area.
“We really shouldn’t-” He trailed off as he scoffed to himself. He knew that Tenma would hardly be upset to see him back there.
Mizuki was rifling through piles of props before their eyes drifted up to a table with all of the props used in the show laid out and labeled.
They ran towards it and lifted up the painting, their breath hitching at the sight of the girl in it.
“Who is she…?” Akito managed to ask, that lonely feeling becoming more overwhelming than he could explain.
“The signature is all scratched out,” Mizuki whispered dejectedly. “But… I know her. I don’t know how but-”
“I know what you mean,” Akito said, looking at the girl in the painting and suddenly feeling a rush of sympathy and pride. Like he knew the artist was capable of making something great and felt proud to see their work of art. “This is really weird.”
“Akito!” The two jumped up as they turned to see Tsukasa in his costume and Rui standing next to him, smiling brightly. “What’re you doing back here?”
“We um…”
“Rui, who made this painting?” Mizuki asked immediately.
The director seemed taken aback, before exchanging a quick look with Tsukasa. “We don’t know, I’m afraid. We just found it.”
“Where?”
“...Why are you asking?”
“It’s the girl in the painting,” Mizuki sounded more desperate. “I’m going to sound insane but I think I know her, b-but I can’t remember?”
“Me too…” Akito muttered.
Rui looked contemplative, holding his chin between his thumb and index finger. “I can’t tell you where I found it. But I can tell you that the person who gave it to me said that this girl was in a lot of pain. She didn’t want to exist anymore.”
Mizuki felt an overwhelming sensation of dread wash over them.
“I’m sorry that I cannot help you more,” Rui sounded genuinely sympathetic. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Mizuki and Akito felt despondent. Their one lead vanished before their very eyes.
“Your hair is wrong,” Mizuki muttered, making Akito defensive.
“Wh-”
“Our lives are wrong.”
He stopped himself, only able to nod half-heartedly.
“Didn’t want to exist anymore…” Akito repeated Rui in a near whisper. “How is that possible?”
Mizuki, in a fit of frustration, screamed into their hands. “I don’t know! But I need to find her I-I don’t… I can’t just leave her alone. I promised…”
Mizuki seemed surprised by themselves, by the words that instinctively rolled off their tongue.
“She promised she’d wait for me,” They managed to choke out. “Why can’t I remember anything else? Why… Why would she leave me here all alone?”
Akito was at a loss for how to help. “Look, Akiyama. We’ll figure it out, okay?”
“Yeah… Okay.”
Mizuki couldn’t stay for the rest of the show. Mentally they sent an apology to Rui but they were in such a daze that they knew they needed to be alone for a while.
Oh, the irony.
They clung onto the painting, hugging the canvas tight to themselves as they walked through the darkening streets. Flashes would pass through their mind but they didn’t nothing but distress Mizuki even more.
“I'm gonna wait for as long as I need to until you're ready to talk to me about this... I'll just have to wait patiently by your side until then. Oh, FYI, I'm not letting you run away from this or me, okay?”
Mizuki screwed their eyes shut, desperately trying to cling onto that voice. They knew that voice! They’ve heard it sing, laugh, yell, cry…
When they got home, they barely managed a hello to their concerned sister before Mizuki retreated to their bedroom, locking their door and collapsing onto their bed.
They couldn’t handle this. Whether it was the silence in their head from someone they could no longer remember, or the staticy noise of all the distant memories that refused to clear themselves up, Mizuki couldn’t stand it.
Pulling out their phone, Mizuki opened up their music app only to be startled by the existence of a song they didn’t recognise.
“Gehenna…?”
Pressing play, Mizuki was immediately overwhelmed by a sense of familiarity and a blinding white light that encompassed them, blurring their vision until they blinked it away, revealing that they were no longer in their room.
“Wh-”
It was a dull, gray landscape with only a few broken structures and bizarre unfinished shapes to occupy the otherwise empty space. Mizuki started walking, cringing at how their footsteps echoed so loudly, the only sound they could hear.
Their steps began to pick up speed. This was it, this was where she was, wasn’t it?
As they moved forward, they noticed a strange glitch in the world, that without hesitation they climbed into.
Reappearing in what looked to be a distorted art studio, Mizuki looked around to see ripped canvases and sketchbooks strewn about, with sketches and drawings scratched out or torn apart.
Their eyes darted to a piece of paper on the ground. It was filled with sketches of faces, some that Mizuki had never seen before, and others they recognised all too well.
There was a girl with long silver hair, another with deep purple curls. There was Airi Momoi - The Idol? - and then there was Akito. But oddly enough his hair was wrong - it was bright orange with a yellow streak instead of his usual plain brown.
“How much changed from you not being here?” Mizuki asked no one in particular. They didn’t know who to ask.
They stopped in front of a canvas that was untouched, flipped upside down to hide whatever its contents were.
Mizuki slowly bent down before lifting it up carefully, as if it were a fragile thing that would disintegrate in their touch.
They turned it over and felt tears burn through their eyes, falling off their lashes and onto the painting itself.
It was a painting of Mizuki .
They looked… Honestly they looked beautiful. They were drawn with such careful consideration, each stroke filled with determination to make sure it was all perfect.
Mizuki’s heart was pounding. How could someone see them like this? Like they themselves were a piece of art, something precious, something beautiful.
How could someone who saw Mizuki like this, possibly leave them all alone?
With newfound determination, Mizuki gently placed the painting onto one of the upright easels and began making their way through the maze of discarded artwork, following their gut as they pushed forward.
Then, Mizuki found her.
She was sitting on a stool, head ducked low as she mindlessly pressed her brush against the canvas with little energy. Black ink dripped off its bristles and onto the ground, but the artist hardly seemed bothered by it. A single spotlight from above illuminated her, the harsh lighting not diminishing how pretty she was.
Her eyes looked so empty, so devoid of life or joy. It was so unlike the self portrait, where a look of determination sparkled in her expression.
When Mizuki stepped closer, the sound of paper crackling beneath them gave them away, startling the artist.
She looked up at them with wide eyes. “Mizuki…? What’re you?” Then, shock was replaced by panic. “No… No You can’t be here, I can’t ruin your life again.”
The artist stood up abruptly, knocking over the metal stool and bottle of ink with a loud clang before trying to dart out of the way. In desperation, Mizuki grabbed hold of her apron and stopped her.
“W-Wait! Please, just… Who are you?”
She just shook her head. “You’re better off not knowing, trust me. I’m sorry, Mizuki.”
The artist looked like she was about to fade away, moving forward and away from them.
“No! Please!” They cried out. She stopped, but refused to turn her gaze back towards them. “Y-You don’t understand. Whoever you are… Something felt wrong, so horribly wrong without you, a-and I’m not the only one who feels like this!”
She just shook her head. “I can’t believe I still managed to fuck up your life without even existing,” She laughed sardonically. “Probably Akito’s too, right? He’ll be fine, he has Toya and the others, now.”
“What’re you talking about?” Mizuki asked. “Akito doesn’t… He’s alone, all the time. He plays soccer and goes home, that’s it.”
This caused the girl to turn slightly, trying to read Mizuki’s face for the truth.
“And what does Toya have to do with anything? I don’t think they’ve ever even spoken to each other.”
“They… What about their music?”
“What music?”
“Oh…” The girl looked conflicted, Mizuki felt a stutter of hope.
“I’m alone too,” Mizuki confessed. “But I’ve always felt like there was someone missing. It’s you, isn’t it?”
She winced. “N-No you’re- You have Kanade and Mafuyu.”
“Who are they?” Mizuki asked, genuine confusion laced their voice.
The artist paled at this. “You don’t… What about Rui?”
“He’s moved on,” Mizuki murmured sadly. “He found his happiness somewhere else. But I… I’m supposed to find mine with you, aren’t I? Who are you to me?”
“I’m… We’re… You’re my…” The girl cried out in frustration. “No this is all wrong y-you weren’t supposed to remember me, I don’t understand!”
“Why?” Mizuki asked, their hand moved to hold onto the girls. “Why did you want this?”
“I’m- I was draining you,” She confessed, her voice cracking through the quiet words. “That’s the kind of person I am. I-I’m angry, and sad, and miserable, and I take it out on everyone else. Especially you and Akito…”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Mizuki asserted.
She just shook her head again, bangs flying in front of her eyes. “I just wanted to disappear… It’s not fair. I can’t take it anymore. It’s one thing to not be good enough to deserve being with you b-but I feel like I’m just pulling you down with me. I can’t stand it, Mizuki.”
“Ena…” They whispered, memories flowing back as they raised their hand up to cradle her face. “I’m sorry I never told you how much I cared about you.”
She flinched at that, pulling away from Mizuki’s gentle embrace.
“What? No! This isn’t your fault, stop-”
“You always told me you’d stay by my side, you always reassured me that you would never stop caring about me, but I never told you the same… I’m so sorry Ena, I was so scared of losing you that I pushed you even farther away.
Wordlessly Ena kept shaking her head, as if she was hoping she could will all of this away.
“Akito doesn’t know how to tell you he loves you either,” Mizuki continued. “But he does, Ena. You changed his life, without you he’s miserable and all alone. You’re the one that inspired him to pursue greatness-”
“I’m also the one that scratched his face til’ it bled when we fought!” Ena shrieked. “I’m the one w-who makes him buy me stuff, who treats him like shit!”
“He scratched your face right back,” Mizuki teased sadly. “Ena, we love you so much. I… I love you so much. I wish I told you sooner.”
Ena succumbed to her sobs, collapsing on the ground as she pulled at her hair. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do!” She wailed. “I just wanted to stop hurting everyone! What else can I do?!”
Mizuki slowly lowered themselves down in front of Ena. “You can come back to us,” They said with a soft smile. “You can be our artist again, you can sneak into Akito’s shows and pretend you didn’t, you can text me at 3am when you’re bored.”
Ena held onto the fabric of Mizuki’s skirt tightly in front of her, hands twitching like she wanted to hold something else.
Mizuki frowned at the idea that Ena wasn’t sure how much she was allowed to be affectionate towards them.
So they pushed forward, wrapping Ena’s arms around themselves as they hugged her tightly. One hand gripped the back of her head while the other was snaked around her waist, as protective of a hold as they could manage.
“Please come back to us,” Mizuki begged. “Please come back to me.”
They looked up to see Rin standing where Ena had once sat, working on that dreadful never-ending painting. With a silent plea from Mizuki, the Vocaloid just nodded, the barest remnant of a smile on her lips.
“I want to,” Ena whispered. “I really want to.”
When Ena opened her eyes she was laying on her bed, sheet strewn half on the floor while she breathed heavily in a cold sweat.
She heard the loud stomping of footsteps approaching from outside in the hallway before Akito slammed the door open, eyes wide and brimming with tears.
“Aki-”
Ena was abruptly cut off by her little brother hugging her tightly, trying to conceal his sniffles.
“I hate you,” He muttered. “You’re the worst. I hate you so much!”
Maybe once Ena would’ve internalized those words, would’ve believed them and let herself spiral into her own misery. But as she watched Akito’s hair fade from brown back to the orange it was supposed to be, the world shifting back into place, she decided that she could maybe try just trusting the people in her life.
“I know,” Ena said. “I’m sorry.”
“You can’t leave again.”
“I won’t, I promise,” Ena insisted, and this time, she really meant it.
The Shinonome siblings had sat there together, talking about everything and nothing before Akito reluctantly got up to go back and sleep in his room. Ena felt guilty for the stress she put him through, seeing how scared he was of forgetting his older sister again.
When he left and her bedroom door closed, Ena let her head fall back onto her pillow as she stared up at her ceiling. Just as her eyes began to drift off to sleep, she was immediately awoken by a blinding white light and a sudden weight falling on top of her.
“Wh- Mizuki?!”
Saying nothing, Mizuki leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss onto Ena’s lips, stunning the artist into silence. Mizuki couldn’t help but laugh at her dazed expression before gently rolling off onto Ena’s side.
“I’ve decided I’m not going to hide my feelings for you anymore,” Mizuki said, with only slightly wavering confidence. “I need you to know how much I care about you.”
With Ena’s still shocked expression she just nodded and buried her face in Mizuki’s neck, pulling her blanket up to cover them both.
“I care about you too,” She managed to say, though muffled.
Mizuki smiled. “I know.” With a more wicked tone of voice they said, “I saw how you painted me.”
Ena stiffened.
“You think I’m pwettyyyyy- Ow!” Ena pinched Mizuki’s arm abruptly, sending them both into soft giggles before drifting back off to sleep.
In her half-awake mind, Ena let herself relax, feeling safe and wanted in Mizuki’s arms.
With a smile, she could only wonder to herself. How did she almost give this up? She’s far too selfish, she never wanted to lose this feeling.
But maybe Mizuki was selfish too, and they could both be selfish for each other’s affections together.