#project sekai fanfic

Summary: Honami couldn’t just watch her flounder like this; it would be dangerous if the knife slipped. “Try cutting with more of a pushing motion.” She offered, drawing Kanade’s eyes to her. 

“What do you mean?” Kanade asked, lifting the kitchen knife slightly. 

Honami lifted one hand to mime the motion, but paused before she could. The easiest way for her to learn would be to help her do it, so she could learn how it felt and repeat it.

Word Count: 1200

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Honami hummed lightly as she chopped the vegetables, her kitchen knife tapping rhythmically against the cutting board. Her hands moved easily in the practiced motion, creating almost perfectly cut cubes. Soon she’d be ready to start the stir fry, a simple yet satisfying dinner to share with her companion

Above her, orange rays of light filtered through the small front window of Kanade’s apartment. The sun was starting to set and would soon vanish beneath the horizon. The natural light competed with a lightbulb overhead, which served to illuminate the space. It was a quiet evening, as they so often were when Honami visited here.

Somewhere behind her, Honami knew, Kanade was watching. The other teen had left her office today to sit with Honami while she cooked, her ice blue eyes burning a hole in the center of Honami’s back. She’d been sitting there silently this whole time, though Honami wasn’t sure why.

Even though they’d known each other for so long, sometimes Kanade managed to surprise her.

“Can I help with that?” Kanade’s voice, quiet yet insistent, came from far closer to Honami’s right side than she had anticipated. She glanced over, hands coming to a halt at the cutting board.

Kanade’s mouth was set in a firm line, her fingers intertwined together in front of her. This was an odd request, Honami thought as she set down the kitchen knife. Kanade almost never cooked for herself, in fact Honami couldn’t recall ever finding a homemade meal there that she hadn’t prepared herself.

This was unusual, but in a good way. If Kanade practiced cooking, maybe she would even make herself some real food. If Honami could help her do that, who was she to turn her down.

A hint of warmth flourished in Honami’s chest, bringing a broad smile to her face.

“Of course!” Honami moved the already chopped vegetables to the side, placing another onto the cutting board. “If you want to chop, I’ll get the stovetop ready.” She offered up her current task without a second thought.

Kanade nodded and stepped into that space, slowly picking up the kitchen knife in her right hand. She looked down at it silently, rotating it and examining both sides. Honami watched for a moment, wondering if she should reconsider their assignments. She could already tell that Kanade had no idea how to hold the kitchen knife, let alone use it.

No, she had given her the task so she needed to see it through. Kanade had a decent supply of bandages in the closet, Honami told herself it would be fine.

Honami left her to it for a moment, vowing to not look away for long, and searched beneath the counter for the pan she needed. She placed it on the stovetop, before turning back to Kanade.

In the few moments she hadn’t been watching, Kanade had settled on how to use the knife. She held it firmly in her hand and had succeeded at aligning it with the vegetable on the cutting board. As she tried to cut, the blade merely stopped on top of the vegetable.

Honami couldn’t just watch her flounder like this; it would be dangerous if the knife slipped. “Try cutting with more of a pushing motion.” She offered, drawing Kanade’s eyes to her.

“What do you mean?” Kanade asked, lifting the kitchen knife slightly.

Honami lifted one hand to mime the motion, but paused before she could. The easiest way for her to learn would be to help her do it, so she could learn how it felt and repeat it.

“Here, I’ll guide you.” Honami stepped around Kanade so she was on her right side, slowly reaching forward to cover her right hand with her own. Honami had to step closer to make it work, bringing her body even closer to Kanade’s. She placed her hand carefully and precisely, with Kanade’s small fingers between it and the kitchen knife. Kanade’s hand and arm tensed against her, flinching away just slightly before returning.

Honami’s heart sunk in her chest, a familiar and unwelcome feeling. That pulling away, that rejection, she remembered it.

How could Honami have forgotten?  Her fingers, which she used every day to cook and play the drums, were covered in the rugged calluses that accompanied regular percussion playing. She hadn’t even thought about it as she reached out, hadn’t considered how it rough it would feel and how undesirable her touch would be.

Honami inhaled sharply, pulling her hand back and stepping hastily away. The kitchen table was there, halting her retreat. She pulled her hand up to her chest, fingers curled over her heart as Kanade looked over her shoulder, a look of confusion clear on her face.

“I’m sorry.” Honami’s voice shook, wavering despite her desire to hold it steady. “I shouldn’t have, my hands are…” She grimaced, unsure of how to finish that sentence.

“I don’t mind, you just startled me.” Kanade set the kitchen knife down, turning fully to face Honami. She frowned slightly as her eyes glimmered with concern, with questions. “Is your hand hurt?” She asked, eyes dropping to the one clenched against Honami’s chest.

Honami followed her eyes down, opening her hand to inspect her own fingers. They appeared normal at first glance, but if she looked closely she could see the slightly darkened skin that marked her calluses. Every place the drumstick made contact was protected, creating a rough uneven surface. She lowered her hand to show Kanade, who stepped closer to get a better look.

“Did you get cut?” Kanade reached forward to lift Honami’s hand higher, her touch soft and warm against the back of it. The gentleness of her touch, Honami wanted her own to be like that.

“I’m not hurt, don’t worry.” Honami didn’t like seeing Kanade fret like this, fussing over her. The heavy feeling it brought tore into her gut. “They’re just rough.”

Kanade blinked as her eyes came up, her other hand coming to cover Honami’s. “Even if they’re tough on the outside, they’re still you.” Her hands were warm as they encompassed Honami’s, grasping her in place. “Please show me how to do it.”

Those words washed over Honami, sinking through her ears to her mind. Kanade was right, of course she was. This roughness was still a part of her, a product of her membership in the band. They were the result of many hours spent practicing and performing, of bonding with her bandmates. She carried them with the rest of her experiences, both good and bad.

Even after that, Kanade still wanted Honami to help guide her and to teach her. This wasn’t a rejection, as she had feared. No, it was quite the opposite.

Honami nodded once, smiling down at Kanade as her heart clenched in her chest. “I will.”

The corner of Kanade’s lips quirked up as she released Honami’s hands, turning back to the cutting board.

After taking a moment to calm herself, Honami joined her. Together they resumed the task, cutting through the vegetable that had been waiting for them.

Honami’s hand was rough against Kanade’s, but that was okay.

Summary: “Alright, I’ll be all done after that.” Kanade listened without turning her head, processing Honami’s words. She already knew that; she’d been waiting for this. She turned her ear towards the door as Honami stepped away from it, her footsteps easily heard moving into the next room. 

Kanade waited for another few seconds just to be sure, before pushing her chair back and rising to her feet. Her knees cracked as she stood, a sure sign that she’d been sitting too long. That was a thought for another day, when she didn’t have plans to conduct.

Word Count: 1000

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“Would you like me to clean the bedroom today?” Honami’s voice, gentle and kind as always, drifted from the open door. Despite the ease at which the sound entered her ears, it caused Kanade’s heart to tighten noticeably in her chest. She sat at her computer, still facing the large screens. The door was far behind her, on the opposite end of the room. She had been waiting for this.

Kanade clicked to save her current project, making sure her work wouldn’t be lost. “Yes, thank you Mochizuki-san.” She could practically feel Honami’s gaze against the back of her head, eyes that exuded warmth.

“Alright, I’ll be all done after that.” Kanade listened without turning her head, processing Honami’s words. She already knew that; she’d been waiting for this. She turned her ear towards the door as Honami stepped away from it, her footsteps easily heard moving into the next room.

Kanade waited for another few seconds just to be sure, before pushing her chair back and rising to her feet. Her knees cracked as she stood, a sure sign that she’d been sitting too long. That was a thought for another day, when she didn’t have plans to conduct.

She took slow careful steps towards the door, cautiously as not to alert her companion. Once she reached the hallway, she could just barely hear the melodic sound of humming. As tempting as it was to stay and listen, to lean closer to that bedroom door, Kanade pulled herself away.

The kitchen was her destination, with its stove burner and various other appliances. Kanade didn’t use this space too often, but today was going to be different.

Kanade stopped in the middle of the kitchen, perking her ear again to see if she’d been noticed. After a few moments of silence she didn’t hear anything, so she resumed.

First she took her kettle and filled it with water, a process that was far too loud, before setting it on the burner. Kanade lit the burner below to start heating it, making sure to leave the lid open so it wouldn’t make too much noise when it was ready.

Then came the teas. This was a harder step, having to choose a flavor. She’d even gone to the store earlier to get a few different ones, but it was so hard to pick which one would be best. Kanade laid her options out on the counter and then stared down at them, willing one to stand out to her. Her eyebrows were scrunched together as she scrutinized the varied choices.

She didn’t notice someone else entering the room. “Yoisaki-san, are you making tea?” This time, Honami’s voice sent a jolt up Kanade’s spine. She tensed up, before regaining her senses and hastily gathering all of the tea bags.

“Oh, are you finished already?” Kanade’s cheeks felt hot as she turned towards Honami, trying to conceal the tea bags hidden between her hands. It was impossible to do so, as the labels were still visible between her fingers.

Honami smiled, her response coming smoothly. “Almost, but I heard something and wanted to check on you.”

“Everything is fine.” The words came blunt, colder than Kanade anticipated. This was a blatant lie; everything was not fine the surprise had been ruined. Kanade sighed, looking down as she raised her hands up to show Honami what she held. “I was making tea, yes. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Why a surprise?” Honami asked, lifting one hand to her chin in thought.

If Kanade’s cheeks had been warm before, now they burned. Her eyes stayed stubbornly on her hands. “You always look after me and make me tea…” She muttered, struggling to lift her voice. “I wanted to do the same for you.” Kanade forced the words out, what she really wanted to say.

Her heart pounded in her chest after she finished speaking, and even though only a few seconds passed the silence stretched for what felt like an eternity.

A single hand entered Kanade’s vision, which came to gently touch the side of Kanade’s own hands. Though Honami’s touch was soft, almost hovering, Kanade could feel the roughness of her calloused fingers. “Thank you, Yoisaki-san.” Honami’s voice couldn’t have possibly sounded softer than before, yet somehow it did. Her words were low and tender and something in Kanade’s heart seized as it skipped a beat.

Kanade looked up, finally meeting her eyes. There were tears gathering in the corners of then, which disappeared a moment later as Honami blinked rapidly. Despite this, a broad smile was spread across her face, one Kanade had always longed to see from her.

Kanade observed her with wide eyes, wanting to grasp her hand in return, to promise to make tea for her every day if that was what she wanted. Unfortunately, Kanade’s hands were still full. Those actions would be for another time.

For now, Honami wiped at her eyes and took a step back. “I’ll finish up, then we’ll drink.” She was still smiling.

“Okay.” Was all Kanade could muster in response, still stunned from what occurred just a minute before.

“I’m looking forward to having your tea!” Honami grinned, turning away from Kanade with a small wave. She disappeared down the hallway, leaving Kanade alone in the kitchen.

Kanade turned back to the counter, setting down the tea bags that she had been clenching this whole time. She still needed to pick and she was determined not to disappoint.

It took more than a few minutes, but as the water reached a boil she was able to decide. She steeped the tea carefully, for the exact number of minutes it needed.

The pair soon sat down at the kitchen table, with Kanade pouring each of them a cup.

She brought it to place in front of Honami, just as she had so many times before for Kanade. Warmth echoed through Kanade’s heart as Honami took her first sip; she could get used to this.

Summary: At this time of day the girl’s bathroom up on the third floor was always abandoned. That suited Shizuku perfectly, as she lingered in front of the mirror. 

Contains angst. 

Word Count: 500

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Shizuku’s hands rested against the two sides of the sink, the cold stark against her half curled fingers. The doors to the bathroom stalls were all varying degrees of open behind her, visible in the reflection of the mirror. At this time of day the girl’s bathroom up on the third floor was always abandoned. That suited Shizuku perfectly, as she lingered in front of the mirror.

Her own reflection stared back, cheeks flushed from practice and eyes tired from exertion. Well, not just from that.

The livestream earlier, remembering their comments brought a fresh wave of pain up her throat. They flashed over her head in the mirror, echoing everything her viewers wanted her to be. Laughing at her snack choice, disliking her dancing. They flashed past her eyes.

One stopped in the middle, larger and bolder than the rest.

“This isn’t the Shizuku I know.”

It pulsed over her forehead, impossible to ignore. It burned like a brand against her skin, stuck and refusing to let go even as she shook her head. Shizuku lifted one hand to it, her fingers swiping through only empty space.

Her heart sunk in her chest, a splitting headache growing. Even pressing her hand against the spot didn’t alleviate it, didn’t provide any relief.

This was who she was now, not even herself any longer. Shizuku wondered if the others saw it too, even as they offered to help. What did Airi think of her now? Now that she was just an empty shell, the hollow remains of the idol she once was.

Shizuku’s hand clenched, the expression in her reflection contorting violently. Her hand lifted from her forehead, forming a trembling fist over her head.

She could make it go away, it would be easy. One smash of the fist, and her image would be shattered. Those words, her own exhausted run down eyes, they’d be gone.

Shizuku’s hand shook even worse as she held it in place, calling her to follow through, to smash it. Her chest burned hot, painful and spiking. Who cared what they thought, certainly not her. What did it matter how she looked? This imperfect reflection, she wanted it to disappear.

Yet still, her hand remained lifted. She couldn’t do it.

Shizuku blinked a few times, taking a deep breath and seeing herself once again.

It did matter how she looked. It did matter what they thought. Making this one image vanish wouldn’t change that, wouldn’t erase her mistakes. It wouldn’t make her perfect.

She could already envision the headlines if she smashed a mirror at school, gossiping about the former idol who lost her mind. It would only damage the group worse, hurt Airi even more. Airi who had worked so hard to support her for all this time.

Slowly, Shizuku’s hand came forward. She brushed her fingers across her reflection, leaving fingerprints where the brand remained.

As Shizuku walked away, heading back up the stairs to rejoin practice, her hand pulsed in pain.

Summary: Airi chuckled and nodded. “I always used to catch you practicing late.” Her voice was soft, as if it was a fond memory. “Some things never change.”

Her last words echoed over the rooftop, reminding Shizuku of how much really had changed over the last few months. They left their groups, nearly gave up being idols completely, and then formed More More Jump. Despite that, here they were, practicing dancing together.

Or

It was hard to let go of the concept of perfection.

Word Count: 2100

Author Note:  This is a follow up to the My Color event, so please read that first. I also suggest reading Shizuku’s four star card from the same event.

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When the members of More More Jump parted ways after today’s long practice, each with their own destination in mind, Shizuku turned back towards the school building. She told them she’d forgotten something and that she’d see them tomorrow, accompanied by her best dazzling smile. Airi had raised an eyebrow, a clear expression of doubt, but let her go without comment.

In a way, it was the truth. That’s what Shizuku told herself as she climbed the stairs, headed back to a familiar location. She’d simply forgotten that she needed to keep practicing. It hadn’t been too long, so the door should’ve still been unlocked.

The sun had started its descent towards the horizon by the time she stepped through the door, casting a growing shadow across the roof’s surface. That was fine, as long as there was enough light she’d be able to practice.

Shizuku carefully shut the door behind her before starting. She re-stretched first to be safe, then took out her phone to review the steps from earlier. They were working to create and release a video series, in which they tackled increasingly complex dance sequences. Haruka and Airi rose to the challenge, adapting easily to each new move that was introduced. Minori was keeping up as well, her enthusiasm and spirit carrying her through each hiccup.

For Shizuku, even the first video had posed a significant struggle. There wasn’t too much time to learn the steps, as they only needed them for a single recording. She spent extra time practicing during breaks, even forgoing her miso soup one day, but the dance moves continued to grow even harder.

Thus, Shizuku returned to the roof after practice. If she could just get a few more reps in, she’d be more ready for the recording tomorrow. She pulled up the video for one of the moves, trying to press the screen to start it. The play button turned into a wheel, which spun in the center of the screen. Shizuku didn’t know what to make of that, so she tapped it again. With a sigh, she watched it continue to spin.

For now she could do it from memory, until her phone decided it wanted to work. Shizuku set it down near the edge of the roof where she wouldn’t step on it by accident. She then took her position, which was at the same place she’d stood earlier when the whole unit was there. In her mind she could picture where they each stood and how they moved.

After checking the desired tempo, Shizuku began to practice the first set of steps. One part was particularly trickly, requiring careful foot placement. She started slow, making sure she remembered where her feet went, before trying the step faster.

Shizuku was half way up to speed, still working on being more precise, when a wonderfully familiar voice called out to her. It was slightly rough, high in pitch, and distinct in a way that set Shizuku’s heart racing.

“I knew I’d find you here.” Airi emerged from the rooftop door, her appearance causing Shizuku to freeze mid dance step. She turned to watch as Airi crossed the roof towards her with a wry smile stretched across her lips. A flash of guilt washed over Shizuku as she remembered how they parted, a wholly unwelcome feeling.

“Airi-chan!” Shizuku schooled her expression back to her usual smile, greeting Airi warmly. “Do you need something?” Maybe she actually forgot something and had to come back. No, Shizuku would’ve seen it on the roof in that case.

“I was looking for you, got a little worried when you didn’t reply to my texts.” Airi’s tone was unusually low as she glanced over to where Shizuku’s phone sat abandoned on the concrete roof.

“Oh… I’m so sorry.” Shizuku hurried to pick it up, seeing a series of notifications pop up on the screen. Each was a text from Airi, as well as one from Haruka. The texts told her that Airi had finished her errand near the school, then asked if she was still nearby. They were followed by a short text asking her to message back. The one from Haruka just said Airi was looking for her and that she seemed worried.

The guilty feeling from before grew even stronger as Shizuku looked back up at Airi, morphing into a smoldering ball of anxiety that nestled deep in her chest. Airi had moved to be closer to her, standing only a couple feet away. When their eyes met, blue shakily watching pink, Airi didn’t look angry. Airi broke eye contact, sighing and shaking her head, but she harbored a hint of a smile.

“Are you having trouble with your phone?” Airi asked, peering down at the device in question.

Shizuku grimaced as she clicked in to clear the unread texts. When she went back to the video page, the swirling shape from before was still there. “Just a few,” Shizuku admitted, tilting the offending symbol towards Airi. “I’ve been reviewing the steps from rehearsal.”

Airi squinted at the phone, before chuckling. “Buffering, as usual.” Her eyes came back up, clear and warmer than Shizuku deserved. “Did you try refreshing it?”

“No, I suppose I should.” That was a good idea. Shizuku tapped the back button, then tried to refresh the video. After a moment it reloaded and began to play.

“You really are bad with tech.” Airi commented, her half smile from before growing.

The anxiety from before had lessened, but still Shizuku frowned. “I’m really sorry, Airi-chan.” She apologized again, despite knowing that it wouldn’t make up for her mistake.

“Luckily I knew where to find you.” Airi replied in a wry tone, before her voice came up. “It’s alright, you don’t need to apologize.”

Shizuku didn’t know how to reply to that, since apologizing again would certainly get her chastised. She allowed her eyes to trail back to her phone. She watched as the video played, showing the dance move she’d been working on. She could clearly see that their feet placement was slightly different than how she’d been doing it, which was a problem.

“I should get back to practicing.” Shizuku said, tapping the screen to rewind the video. She lifted it closer to her face so she could see it better.

Airi leaned closer to watch as well, her arm practically brushing against Shizuku’s. “You had trouble with this one during rehearsal.” She pointed out, which was something Shizuku hoped hadn’t been so obvious. “I’ll help, this is a tough step.”

“Thank you, Airi-chan.” Shizuku replied sincerely, finally allowing a smile to return to her face. There was something familiar about those words, something that triggered a feeling of deja vu. She stepped away from Airi to return to her position, stowing her phone back in its proper pocket.

Once in place, Shizuku began to work on the move again. Now she had seen the step, so she was better able to master the foot placement. It was still a slow process, of course, but she was getting there. She almost forgot that Airi was watching, but it was impossible to ignore her focused stare.

“Stop!” Airi called out, causing Shizuku to pause as she scurried over to stand by Shizuku’s left elbow. “Keep your arms up, don’t just focus on your feet.” She placed one hand under Shizuku’s bent arm, gently lifting it to a higher angle.

“Got it.” Shizuku made a note of the angle and how she would have to adjust to hit it. The feeling from before returned, as Airi stepped away. Only this time, she was able to place where it had come from. “This reminds me of rehearsals before our debut.” She broke her pose to cover her mouth with one hand, hiding a giggle.

Airi chuckled and nodded. “I always used to catch you practicing late.” Her voice was soft, as if it was a fond memory. “Some things never change.”

Her last words echoed over the rooftop, reminding Shizuku of how much really had changed over the last few months. They left their groups, nearly gave up being idols completely, and then formed More More Jump. Despite that, here they were, practicing dancing together.

Her anxiety from before, which had been hot and densely packed, had mostly dissolved. When Shizuku smiled gently back, there was only a lingering tension within.

She resumed practicing the dance step, making sure to keep her arm at the correct angle. It was finally starting to come together, even as her shadow stretched beyond the edge of the roof.

Airi moved away to lean against the fence as she watched. Shizuku occasionally looked her way while she continued to practice.

Some time passed like this, as Shizuku slowly improved at the step. She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but she almost felt ready to try it at tempo when Airi spoke again.

“How late are you planning to rehearse?” She asked, her arms crossed as she leaned.

Shizuku wasn’t sure. “I still need to work on it.” She replied, setting her feet to try it again. The move wasn’t ready yet, so she couldn’t stop. Not until a school employee came to kick her out.

“Hmm.” Airi tilted her head, seeming to mull something over. After a moment, she continued. “Want to stop by the mall? There’s a new magazine I want to check out.” She asked, basically ignoring what Shizuku had just said.

“I can’t go, we’re recording this tomorrow.” Shizuku reminded her, though she was certain Airi hadn’t forgotten. “There’s not much time left.”

Airi stepped away from the fence, her hands falling to her side. “I’m aware of that.” She frowned, a hint of concern clear in her eyes. Shizuku hated seeing that look on her face. “You know, it doesn’t have to be perfect.” Airi spoke levelly and clearly. Those words shook through Shizuku, reverberating into her ears.

Shizuku inhaled shakily. “It doesn’t?” She asked, thinking about the other two steps she hadn’t worked on yet. She still needed to do those next, before the roof was closed.

“That’s kind of the point of the challenge.” Airi replied, taking a few steps closer to her. “To show our limits.”

Shizuku bit her lower lip, contemplating those words. She hadn’t thought about it that way, not at all. She wanted to master each new hurdle, to show her skills at dancing. Having limits wasn’t an option, not for her as an idol.

She remembered again how much things had changed, how she had changed. She was no longer Shizuku the perfect idol. Instead, she was just Shizuku, herself. It was hard to remember sometimes, hard to shoulder the pressure. Airi had reminded her of that.

“Even if it wasn’t, you’ve worked incredibly hard.” Airi stopped in front of her, offering a small smile. “Your fans will see who you truly are, whether this move is perfect or not.” Airi brought one open palm up to rest over her own heart. “I do, every single day.” She spoke sincerely, eyes locked directly onto Shizuku’s.

“Airi-chan…” Shizuku struggled to find the words to respond as tears welled up in her eyes. Her heart felt warm, impossibly so, as she blinked to keep the tears down. Airi was right, just as she had been before. “Thank you for supporting me.” Shizuku’s voice wavered, but she was able to get the words out.

Airi winked and made an okay symbol with her hand. “Of course! What else is a fan to do?” She laughed, a light echoing sound that Shizuku cherished.

Shizuku couldn’t help but smile back, warmth still radiating through her chest. “You’re right, we should get going.” It felt cathartic to admit, to let go. A weight had been lifted from her chest, replaced with only light.

The pair were still standing together, close on the roof.

Airi reached out her hand as if it were the most natural gesture in the world, eyes glimmering in the setting sun. Shizuku slowly grasped it, intertwining their fingers together. They descended the stairs side by side, exiting the school.

As Airi squeezed her hand, glancing over with a half-smile, Shizuku felt her remaining worries fade away. With Airi, and with More More Jump, she could be exactly who she was.

The feeling of Airi’s hand in hers, warm and comfortable, reminded her that she didn’t need to be perfect.

Summary: There was the idol merch, which had driven Minori to become an idol herself. The blue light sticks of Haruka’s fans inspired her to continue performing. The fan looked handmade, perhaps even by Airi herself. 

The towel though,  Minori wasn’t sure what to make of it. What kind of feelings did it contain?

Word Count: 2800

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The feeling of phasing into the Sekai, of her body disappearing and then reforming in the strange new world, still thrilled Minori each time. Her heart raced as the stage appeared before her eyes, light emanating from every corner.

She had visited many times since they discovered it, especially while rehearsing for Haruka’s show. After the performance, once More More Jump had formed, she mostly came to talk or dance with Miku and Rin. They always knew how to fix a slow dance step, or the best way to draw in the audience.

Today was different. The whole group was here, phasing in as Minori did. While Shizuku and Airi had spent almost as much time in the Sekai as Minori had, Haruka had still only been there a few times. When they met for rehearsal that afternoon, they discussed the other world.

Haruka suggested that they spend some time exploring it, since it tied all of them together. If they wanted to occasionally practice there, it would be best to try to understand it.

Minori remembered the first time she saw the Sekai, when Rin told her it was a world born from all of their feelings. She agreed it was worth exploring and happily shared her opinion.

That was how More More Jump ended up in the Sekai, standing together in front of the stage. Neither of the virtual singers were there today, leaving the world feeling strangely empty.

It didn’t bother Minori as she looked around the wide-open space. “Where should we start?” She asked eagerly, eyes landing on the production booth near the back of the audience. She hadn’t been back there before since there was no reason to go. Stage production was part of being an idol too; she wanted to check it out.

“I wonder what’s backstage.” Shizuku mused. When Minori turned back to the group, Shizuku was looking back at the closed curtain.

“Why don’t we split up?” Haruka must’ve noticed that they had different locations in mind, since she proposed an appropriate course of action.

Airi nodded a couple times. “Shizuku and I will look backstage.”

Haruka’s lips lifted ever so slightly, in a smile that made Minori feel as if she was warping into the Sekai all over again. “I’ll go with Minori through the seats.”

With that agreed, the two pairs parted ways. Minori weaved her way through the seats, pausing to take a look at each row. They were made up of primarily folding chairs, with glow sticks hovering above them. When they had performed here before, the glow sticks had moved as if they were being waved.

“On stage, you’d never know that the seats are empty.” Haruka commented as she stepped into one of the rows, reaching towards a hovering glow stick. Minori watched with wide eyes as her hand phased through it, as if there were nothing there. Haruka flinched back, now frowning.

Minori tried it too, reaching for one in the next row. Just like Haruka, she was unable to grasp them. “It’s like a holograph.” She waved her hand through it, to see how the light would react.

“I think you’re right.” Haruka stepped back out into the aisle. “Ready to keep going?”

“Yeah!” Minori left the odd holographs behind so she could lead the way. They walked faster through the rest of the stands, until they reached the production booth Minori noticed before.

There were a couple flower stands in front of it, one each for both Miku and Rin. Computers were spread along the production table, along with a few other items. As Minori rounded the corner, finally able to see the tables properly, she recognized a few of the things.

“Oh woah, it’s Asrun merch!” Minori picked up the Asrun bag, running her fingers across the buttons along the side. This wasn’t just any bag; this was her bag. These buttons were the same ones she’d added over the years. She used to carry this bag all the time, storing all sorts of things inside. How was it here though? She was confident that it was hanging up in her closet at home.

Haruka had walked into the booth as well, stopping to Minori’s left at a different item. It was a blue glow stick, the same color that had washed over the audience during Haruka’s performances. Her head was tilted towards it, face only partially visible to Minori.

Minori glanced back down at the table where she stood, spotting two cd’s where the bag had been. She recognized them without needing to see the titles; these were Haruka’s first two singles. She’d bought them both on the days they released, waiting outside the music store for over an hour before it opened. How strange, these were supposed to be at home too.

There were a couple other things on the table, a large pink fan and a towel. Minori started with the towel, since it was closer. She picked it up and unfolded it, holding it out in front of her. It was the size of a hand towel, with lettering engraved on one edge. The letters spelled out Airi’s name.

Minori folded it back up as best she could, placing it back on the table. She assumed that it was Airi’s towel. To her left, Haruka had picked up the fan. She held it up to show Minori, with Airi’s name clearly visible on it as well.

“These must have manifested here.” Haruka said as she gently placed the fan back on the table. “As fragments of our feelings.”

For the most part that made sense. The originals were probably still in the real world, with the Sekai making a copy based on their emotions.

There was the idol merch, which had driven Minori to become an idol herself. The blue light sticks of Haruka’s fans inspired her to continue performing. The fan looked handmade, perhaps even by Airi herself.

The towel though, Minori wasn’t sure what to make of it. What kind of feelings did it contain?

_______________________________________________________

If Shizuku said that today had been an incredibly difficult day, that would’ve been an understatement. She’d found her drive that morning after meeting Airi, but while that changed her attitude, it hadn’t diminished the challenges ahead.

Throughout the day they practiced singing, dancing, and speaking. Shizuku gave her all in each task, with dancing being the hardest one for her. Even though she struggled with some of the dance moves, she was committed to getting them right.

She watched as Airi moved in perfect time, striking each pose with precision. There was much she could learn from her, even outside the talk they had earlier. Shizuku made note of what worked and tweaked her own performance, eager to improve.

She had to do her best in order give hope to others.

With her chin up and best foot forward, Shizuku made it through her first day learning to be an idol.

Once the group was dismissed on stage, Shizuku wiped her face with the towel she’d been carrying. It was handed to her that morning by Airi, who gave it to her to dry her tears. Shizuku had been using it since, wiping her sweat as they practiced.

As she dabbed it across her forehead, she realized that maybe she should give it back. There were letters embroidered onto one side, which read Airi. This was a personalized towel, not something to be given away. To be honest, she probably should’ve returned it earlier.

With that in mind, Shizuku looked around to find the girl in question. She’d been there a few minutes before, eyes locked eagerly onto their instructor. Now, as the others milled about and all prepared to leave, she was harder to spot.

Luckily, Airi’s bright pink hair couldn’t be missed. Near the back of the stage, behind another group of teens, Shizuku spotted her. Airi was looking down at her phone, typing something on the keypad.

Shizuku moved around the others to reach her, folding the towel as she did. She left the embroidered letters facing up; it just felt right.

When she reached Airi, she stopped in front of the shorter teen. Shizuku waited as she continued to type, not wanting to interrupt.

It took a moment for Airi to notice her. First only her pink eyes glanced up, then shifted down to her phone, A moment later she looked up completely, beaming at Shizuku with a bright grin.

“Great first day out there!” Airi tucked her phone away in a pocket.

“I’ve already learned a lot.” Shizuku replied, particularly thinking back on what Airi told her that morning. She lifted the towel with both hands, holding it out towards Airi. “Thank you for lending me this.”

Surprisingly, Airi did not reach up to accept the item. Instead, she shook her head. “Keep it.” She replied simply.

Shizuku’s hands fell slightly. “You don’t want it?” It seemed like a perfectly good towel, perhaps even better than good due to the lettering.

Airi smirked, placing one hand on her hip. “I won’t take it back until you’ve beaten me!” Her eyes glimmered, exuding excitement.

Shizuku lifted the towel to her chest as she processed those words. Even after her performance today, after helping her that morning and watching her lackluster dance steps, Airi still thought of her as a rival.

A warm smile spread on Shizuku’s face as she held the towel close. Someday, once she perfected every aspect of being an idol, she’d try again to give it back.

She couldn’t help but wonder if that would be enough. The girl in front of her was full of heart, of hope. Even if she was impossible to beat, Shizuku was determined to try.

Until then, it was hers.

__________________________________________________________

Backstage in the Sekai was not nearly as interesting as Airi hoped it would be. It was full of the typical things that could be found on real stages, like old sets, unplugged light fixtures, and a folded curtain. The lights were dim, barely illuminating the space.

At least Shizuku seemed intrigued. She was leaning over one of the sets, looking closely at some of the finer details. Airi was in no hurry to move along, content with watching her explore this world.

It felt strange, spending time together like this after their careers had gone down drastically different paths. Airi was still getting used to it again. Practicing together again felt like a dream, one Airi had long left behind.

“Airi-chan, this one has clovers on it!” Shizuku’s voice rose as she gestured for Airi to come over.

Airi joined her with a smile, walking across the stage to scrutinize the set. Indeed, it did have clovers painted along the bottom.

“I wonder how clover themed outfits would look.” Airi mused, trying to imagine it. “It might clash with my hair.”

“Nonsense,” Shizuku dismissed the notion. “You’d look wonderful.” She stood upright, moving away from the set.

Airi’s cheeks warmed at that response, which she ignored as she changed the subject. “I think that’s everything back here.”

“Hmm, yes.” Shizuku looked around one more time. “That was the last one. I think it’s my favorite.”

The two turned back towards the stage, walking past all the sets they encountered before. Each set depicted different locations, most unfamiliar to Airi. One stood out to her, a background that showed a stage. She remembered debuting on a similar stage, in front of a roaring crowd.

“I’m more curious about where they came from.” Airi replied, walking past the last one and out onto the main stage.

“Probably the same magic that made this world.”

There was no arguing with that. Airi stepped towards the front of the stage, peering out over the audience. Midway back, she spotted Haruka and Minori. They were walking towards the front, through the aisles of the seats.

“Find anything interesting?” Airi asked once the pair reached the stage. They must’ve been craning their necks to look up at her.

“There’s some cool stuff at the production booth.” Minori pointed in the direction of the booth, which Airi could see from the stage.

“They’re copies of real things.” Haruka added, drawing Airi’s attention back to her. So it wasn’t real items, but copies? It sounded different than what they found on stage. Airi was definitely curious.

“Up here, there are many different sets.” Shizuku offered, still smiling as she had been before.

That was all it took to have Minori bounding up onto the stage, bouncing back behind the curtain. Haruka followed slowly behind, taking the stairs up. “We’ll meet you back out here.” She said as she passed, disappearing into the dark of backstage.

Airi and Shizuku took those same stairs down to see the booth, which was pretty far back in the stands. They were able to walk an aisle way almost straight to it.

When they reached the booth, walking around to enter it, the bright pink fan snagged Airi’s gaze. It looked familiar, far too familiar. She picked it up to look at and yes, it was exactly as she thought.

One of her earliest fans had made her this, sending it to the production studio to give to her. They made it by hand, using paint to add her name on the side. When her idol career started to fall apart, Airi used to look at the fan to remind herself of why she did this. It was for the fans, to give them hope as their idol.

The real one was carefully preserved in plastic at home, which must’ve been what Haruka meant by the items being copies. Airi’s desires as an idol were tied strongly to this fan. Perhaps that was why it was here.

She turned to see what Shizuku was doing, catching her folding something with her hands. It appeared to be a towel, of the light pink variety. Airi put the fan down to go see, passing the blue glow stick and Asrun merch on the way. Those must’ve belonged to Haruka and Minori.

Airi stopped next to Shizuku, watching as she finished folding the towel. White lettering was visible on the top, showing a few familiar letters.

A memory flashed in Airi’s mind, one long buried and forgotten.

“You can’t possibly still have that, after all this time?” Airi asked, carefully watching Shizuku’s reaction.

Shizuku turned towards her, leaving one hand pressed on top of the towel. “Of course I still have it, I’m not ready to give it back.” Her tone carried a hint of fondness.

Airi chuckled at that, “When I gave it to you, you only tried once.” She had almost forgotten about it after that, once Shizuku stopped bringing it to practice.

“That’s right.” Shizuku’s smile softened, her expression full of warmth. “You’re an amazing idol Airi-chan, I haven’t beaten you yet.”

Airi inhaled sharply; she didn’t agree with that statement. Even if Airi had her strengths, she had faltered as an idol. Not long ago, she had gone against everything she once preached.

“Even when I quit?” It was a heavy question, loaded with an anxiety she carried deep within.

Shizuki didn’t falter, didn’t allow the question to hang in the air. “I never stopped believing in you.” She spoke gently, her voice lifting Airi like the warm coming of spring. “I always hoped you’d come back, with all my heart.”

“I’m back, Shizuku” Airi affirmed, smiling despite fighting tears in the corners of her eyes. “We’re here now, together.”

Shizuku nodded, blinking rapidly a few times. “Finally, we are.” Something hung in the air between them, electric in the multicolored light. Airi was aware of each breath, as their eyes remained locked.

Shizuku broke eye contact, cheeks pink as she looked down. She patted the towel one last time before stepping away. She moved past Airi to the other items, stopping to coo over the Asrun merchandise.

Airi gently pushed a crease out of the towel, making sure it was lying flat. In a way she still disagreed; Shizuku had beaten her long ago. The one who inspired her, who drove her to be the best idol she could, that was always Shizuku.

Years ago, when she issued the challenge, she hadn’t realized that she’d lose. Not only would she lose, but she’d be happy to do so. She would be excited to face the next day, singing and dancing with the idol who inspired her. Her rival who, through hard work and persistence, had beaten her.

Even so, Airi would let her keep the towel for now. She suspected Shizuku wouldn’t give it up anyway, even if she asked. After all, it had appeared here for a reason.

Airi wasn’t ready to grapple with that idea yet, as she followed Shizuku over to the other items.

The Sekai version of the towel remained folded on the table, with the letters of Airi’s name face up for all to see.