Chapter Text
The world was a screaming, swirling flurry of white. More snow than Yukina had ever seen in a lifetime was raging outside. Yukina could only watch, trapped by a dead weight barred across her chest. Legs tangled as if they were a halved octopus. Her phone was on the other side. If she squinted at the ceiling she could see the flickering light of an incoming call. She considered answering, but her body was achingly warm and mind pleasantly quiet, and the call would ruin that. She ran her hand on the growing shadow on his chin. Nayuta made a sound vaguely like purring, eyes closed.
A knock on the door broke the silence before Yukina could savour it. Nayuta growled. "Fuck off, Satozuka."
"We're having breakfast if you and your lady friend would like to join."
"I said fuck off, Satozuka."
Yukina said, "He'll be down shortly," and Satozuka seemed to retreat.
Yukina tried to sit up. Nayuta glowered at her, refusing to move. "Which lady," he groused, "whose friend."
"I don't think he'd have gone away otherwise. And it's not like I can go anywhere in this weather."
"Got a problem with that?"
He rolled aside, transferring his glower to the blizzard outside. Nayuta swore under his breath like a teenager, or a cat plunging into cold water. Yukina gathered her clothes and got dressed.
Downstairs Satozuka was already waiting with a steaming mug of coffee. He slid it into Nayuta's hand and said to her, "He's much more functional once he's had his morning coffee." He seemed to be watching for her reaction.
"I'll have one," Yukina said. "Black, I'll add the sugar myself."
"Of course. Please have a seat."
The others were already seated, none of them shy of their interest in the woman their frontman had brought home. The drummer, a man with glossy and well-trimmed long hair, leaned forward on his elbows, flashing her a blinding smile.
"I've always wanted to meet you," he said after introducing himself. "The legendary caged-bird songstress. You're even more beautiful in person."
"What brought you to Hakodate?" the guitarist said. "I thought Roselia's last leg was in Sapporo, a couple of days ago."
"It's the road to happiness," said the bassist in a sing-song voice.
"Nayuta never told us you were dating, that sly dog."
Yukina arched her eyebrows at that. "We're not dating," she said firmly, "and I'm on a private business."
Nayuta slammed his empty mug on the table. "Quit yapping and eat. It's almost afternoon, we're wasting the day."
"And whose fault is that," muttered the guitarist.
"Shut up, Misono." There was no bite to Nayuta's voice. Maybe Satozuka had told the truth, after all.
Breakfast—now appropriately brunch—was, of all things, chikuzenni. It put a damper on her appetite. After, Satozuka offered to wash the dish for her. "You're our guest," he said. "Feel free to use the TV, or books, or if you're interested in our music collection—"
"Observe our rehearsal," interrupted Nayuta, speaking to her for the first time since they'd left his room. Rather than an order, it sounded more like a request. How unusual. They'd never talked about music—through an unspoken agreement they'd never talked much about anything at all. Although Yukina supposed she'd breached it first: taking refuge in Hakodate and asking Nayuta out on a date in all but name. They'd even talked through the night, reticent by normal people's standard, but more than they'd spoken in all the years of this peculiar arrangement. Was it a wonder that he would respond?
She agreed anyway, and felt Satozuka's gaze on her sharpening. Nayuta, though, flashed her what might be a smile before he turned and barked at Satozuka to stop dawdling. Yukina amused herself with the image of four grown men sweating under the judgement of one much smaller woman.
Yukina had watched GYROAXIA's concert in person once, and their recordings occasionally. Nayuta ran his ship as she could've predicted from their sound: with an iron fist groping in the dark for perfection. He harped on mistakes, and sometimes things that fell just short of perfect; he snarled his frustrations at himself. On those occasions the others would argue back. More often they would yield. Yukina wondered if her presence affected them that much; some were not so subtle with their glances. Not Nayuta, his eyes were set on the pinnacle. It was what had drawn her to him, what had kept them seeking each other's company for years.
Gone was the overwhelming rage. The beast who bared his fangs at everyone was now, if not quite tame, at least leashed, had put the leash on himself. But that wasn't new; it had taken Nayuta and GYROAXIA years to arrive at this point. She ought to know, as one who'd gone through a similar process. Something else had changed. Today, his voice was bursting with exhilaration. And the only change was her arrival…
When the session was over, he looked across the studio at her, finally acknowledging her presence. There was fire in his eyes, not rage but pride. It beckoned to her, and she too desired to take it into herself, as one who was freezing to death. Yukina flinched and came back to herself. This wasn't how she'd wanted to discover she'd lost it, the burning zeal born of pride, in this cold, white north. The realization made her drop her gaze. Nayuta hesitated—and wasn't that odd? She spoke before he could regain his confidence. "Excellent show," she said awkwardly. "And now I shall take my leave." Now, before Nayuta could tell her exactly what he wanted.
Nayuta scowled, still dithering, leaving it wide for Satozuka to enter smoothly. "I can take you to where you're staying. The roads should've been cleared."
"Thank you, but I won't take any more of the time you could devote toward your music." And she certainly wasn't down for any pompous threats he might've given on behalf of Nayuta's virtue or whatever. She would not consent to being The Woman, breaker of bands, thank you very much. Yukina took just enough time to snatch her purse and coat.
(Her only regret was that she hadn't got to meet Nyankotarou. Nayuta's old cat, and cats in general, was one of the few things they shared.)
Back to the hotel room she'd rented. Without any other things to do, she showered first, then threw herself on the bed. It was quiet, and she was alone, and still no lyrics would come to her. Other intrusive, annoying thoughts, were not so shy. She sighed loudly, more to have the sound filling the room, then reached for her phone. Only now did she remember it was still in Nayuta's room. It would've been dead by now. She wondered if the others had returned to Tokyo. If Lisa had filed a missing person report with the police. If the calls had come from Sayo, seeking to formally resign over the phone.
She knew she'd have to retrieve her phone, eventually. Return home and face the music, as it were. But while she was far away from home she wanted to wring one last inspiration out of Hakodate. So far it felt like watering a desert one ice cube at a time. She put strength into her stomach and got up and changed into the last good dress she'd brought to this little escapade, threw on a decent makeup, and slipped outside.
Ice and snow piled high on the sidewalks and roofs and parking lots, burying cars and barren trees alike. Hakodate after a blizzard seemed eerily quiet. Even fewer cars and people populated the streets, and the snow absorbed what little sound they made. The image was tantalizing, but the words simply refused to coalesce.
Once she came cross a black cat taking shelter under a car, rubbing its back against its once warm chassis. She fished for her phone, to take its picture and send it to Nayuta. Their chat log was an unbroken parade of cat pictures and videos traded diligently everyday. (Lisa would despair of her if she knew.) But the phone was with him right now, and even if she had it back somehow she wasn't sure they could return to the same routine. The thought made her feel melancholic. And still inspiration wouldn't come.
Evening fell, and with it the last half-hearted attempt at staying warm under a lukewarm sun. Yukina's wandering seemed to have taken her to the right place anyway. She felt a petty, vindictive pride at accomplishing it without either a smartphone or an overbearing hand guiding her, all from a vague memory of Nayuta mentioning the place. Submariner was a modest bar. Its sole point of interest — to Nayuta, and by way of similarity in dispositions, Yukina — was the band currently setting up their equipments on the stage up front. Patrons filled the closest tables, the ones who seemed to be there only for ARGONAVIS. Besides them there was only one young woman who seemed to be debating whether to leave when the performance started.
Yukina sat at the bar, near the exit, so she could watch the stage if she so choose to turn her head. The bartender took her order and she blurted out the first alcoholic lyric playing in her head. White Russian, it turned out. Well, she did always want to know what it tasted like.
Then the music started and her drink was forgotten. Yukina had heard of the sensational boy band out of the sleepy winter town of Hakodate. Not her kind of music, closer to PoPiPa, she supposed, which lent to this band some unwarranted sense of nostalgia.
"They're good, aren't they," said the bartender when it was over.
Yukina slanted her head at an angle that people often misread as an agreement. Nayuta found the vocalist good enough to get worked up about — Yukina supposed she must agree. Though not the rivalry. This boyish, starstruck voice wasn't encroaching on her territory.
"Found 'em myself. Gave 'em a place to start when they were still wee lads. That's why they're here now, playing for a humble establishment like this for free. And now, look at them. And don't think for a second they're going to stop any time soon."
"No," Yukina said truthfully. She could recognize when talent presented itself. Certainly on the surface it seemed as though they could continue forever, these same five people. Though she'd have thought the same of Roselia once upon a time, and yet. "But things outside our control happen, anyway."
He laughed. "Straightforward, aren't you? And exceptional, too. Oh, yes, I recognized you. I do keep on with the times, you see. You girls have this dreadful, terrifying energy, and I meant that as a compliment. But you're definitely more beautiful in person, without all that makeup, I must say."
Yukina, who had on occasions lost sleep or caused Rinko or Sayo to lose sleep while designing the stage and costumes and yes makeup for some live performances, simply inclined her head again. There was a time and place for debating a man older than her father, and that was probably not while she was contemplating getting another shot on an empty stomach. She made the order.
Halfway through the second helping, a familiar voice said, "Look what the cat dragged in… Minato."
She looked up. The light of the cars passing by refracted on and off his back like a reluctant halo. His nose and ears seemed to have shrivelled to a red husk, and the rest of him was stiff with cold. "Speaking of yourself… Asahi?"
He glared, at her, and then at the bartender. Taking the hint, the latter chuckled and moved to serve another customer, muttering something about young love.
Nayuta took a seat, his eyes lingering too long on her half-empty glass. Yukina said, "Don't tell me you don't drink even in your downtime?"
He ignored her, pulling something out of his pocket. He placed it on the bar. It was her phone, fully charged.
"Should I ask how you found me?"
"You seemed keen when I mentioned Nanahoshi last night. Was gonna throw it out but your madwoman of a guitarist threatened to call the cops on me if I couldn't prove I didn't kidnap you."
Yukina pawed at her phone. The last and only accepted call was indeed from Sayo. It wasn't hard to imagine: Lisa, at her wits' end, begging Sayo to be the bigger woman and reach out first.
Could she imagine Nayuta, noticing she'd left her phone, charged its power in case she'd call, and even spoke at length with Sayo? Even so, she told herself, it meant nothing that he noted the name of her band members, or went looking for her to return her stuff.
"You could've, still," she said. "Erase the evidence before the cops get to it."
"Some stupid ass action movie you're directing there."
"Would you rather we're in a romance drama instead?"
To say Nayuta was scowling would be redundant—it was permanently molded into his face, yielding to the vagaries of emotions only in its severity. Though she supposed she'd also seen his rapture. It was odd to think she might've been the only person to ever witness it.
Yukina shook her head. Better this tangle of emotions than the one waiting for her back home. She pushed her half-empty glass into his hand. Nayuta scoffed, "What, sakazuki?" and downed the content.
"Are you always so nice to your other lays, or just the good ones?" Yukina said as she scrolled through her messages.
Nayuta coughed and covered his mouth, but not before she'd seen the flush of his cheeks. "Gotno'ther," he mumbled into his arm. Clearing his throat, he said, "There's no one else." The heat in his gaze was palpable.
An uncomfortable lump grew in her throat. She stowed the phone into her purse. "What else did Sayo tell you?"
This was a scowl of genuine displeasure. It seemed as though he might leave, but very reluctantly decided not to. "Forget her," he said gruffly, "what are you up to, Minato? Hakodate's no place for you."
"Curious, you were singing a different tune last night."
"If you're just fucking with me — "
"Also last night."
" — just a part of a series of fuck-ups on the way to quitting music, huh?" he sounded bitter, as if she'd led him on. As if Asahi Nayuta had feelings she could yank around. What a horrifying thought.
A part of her was elated. Finally, she had gained first-hand experience of having feelings, and having those feelings reciprocated. The greater part of her was lost. Surely things must change now, every narratives around her taught her so. Even though she had chosen Nayuta for the certainty that the only thing she could feel for him was rivalry.
The alcohol she'd shared with him helped make her thoughts leak despite herself. "I'm not quitting music. I don't know what Sayo told you—the trouble with Roselia is, indeed, regrettable, but it's not insurmountable. I will not, I cannot let something like a change in band members stop me. You'd do the same, surely, if it happened to you and yours. I came here because I knew you'd understand."
"Doesn't sound like you need me. Doesn't sound like I'm the one needs convincing, either."
"You are… an existence separate from Roselia, of the same constellation, a star no less bright. Your radiance reminds me of where I stand, and how much I still have to go. As long as you still stand on the glittering stage I cannot retire from music."
Nayuta stared at her. Moments like this reminded her that despite his crude bluster he was not an oaf. And then he opened his mouth and said, "You're drunk."
"Also cold and hungry. I'm leaving."
She stood, calling the owner for the bill. Then she grabbed her coat from the racks. She'd done it, foolishly baring her heart. They were not friends to begin with—a rejection wouldn't be so painful. Her shoulder jolted with static electricity. Nayuta swore, then his hand resumed its grip, his touch burning through the layers of clothes.
"Look, I thought you were laying down the grounds for quitting and getting my hopes up—fuck, that went wrong. How am I supposed to top something so florid."
Yukina tilted her head up. He seemed flustered, of the kind where one was worried of saying something wrong. Concern was an odd look on Nayuta. It gave her an irrational hope. It'd be embarrassing if she was wrong, but it was a good thing she was—just a little—drunk. "A date would be nice, to start with." She pried off his hand, kept his wrist near her frantically beating heart.
He froze, then slowly bared his teeth. "Got the order all wrong, don't we."
So Nayuta showed her a hole-in-the-wall ramen shop. She told him about the black cat under the car. He told her of the time Misono stepped on Nyankotarou's tail and ended up with scratches so terrible Nayuta'd kicked him out of rehearsal rather than destroying their sound. Cats and music and everything in between flowed between them, easier than she'd feared. At no point did she ever entertain, even for a second, the idea of giving up music just to be with Nayuta. It made her wonder why they hadn't tried earlier, but only a little. As Lisa would say, there was something lyrical, downright songworthy about needing to be in particular places in life to make certain connections.
They still didn't talk about Roselia, or GYROAXIA, for that matter. If Sayo had revealed more to him he said nothing of it, as though the only thing that mattered to him was that she wouldn't quit music. She was the spectre keeping him spurred, sometimes ahead, sometimes chasing his heels. She found it oddly endearing. But she supposed she'd have dumped him long ago if he'd suddenly tried to ingratiate himself into her life.
He made only one allusion, while walking her back to her hotel, because Hakodate was after all his stomping ground. "You're returning to Tokyo tomorrow, yeah?" he said, less a question than an imperative.
"I suppose I've run out of clean clothes," she said.
His mouth was a taut rope twisting on itself until it curved. His ears and nose stood out like beacons, ripe red under the night lights. She thought, she should like to see his lips the same, for balance. Yukina couldn't blame this one on alcohol. She stood on tiptoes and grabbed the lapels of his coat. His lips were, unsurprisingly, dry and freezing. Warmth soon permeated, however, and when she thought she was done, arms circled her shoulders and tightened until her toes no longer touch the ground. It went on as though it was a contest of lung capacities—in which case she refused to give up first; they were singers; they could do this all night—but as she was approaching her limit Nayuta finally released her. As she'd predicted, red and swollen looked good on him. Noticing her leer, he tugged his chin under his coat, gazing peculiarly at the hotel behind her back.
"Tempting, but I have a long and troublesome call to make tonight," Yukina said, genuinely regretful.
Nayuta muttered something that sounded like slander to her virtue. Yukina ignored him, standing awkwardly in the middle of the sidewalk. Well, they'd done everything as instructed by mainstream love songs, now what? Did she even want to change it? This carnal bond between two beasts too proud to be vulnerable to anyone but their likeness?
"I'll be in Tokyo at some point," Nayuta said, finally. "With GYROAXIA. We'll crush all your puny big city bands."
"I'd like to see you try."
"Yeah, well. You gotta be the last woman standing, you got that, Minato? Least until I catch up to you."
Yukina felt herself smiling. "Are you telling me to wait for you, Asahi?"
He scoffed loudly. "Hardly. Then you're not the kind of woman I thought you were. But you, Minato Yukina, you go on, fly high. Go out in a blaze of glory. Come back to life again like that ridiculous lyrics of yours. And when you've arrived at your zenith, that's when I'll catch up to you. I will overtake you."
The next day, Yukina found Lisa waiting for her alone in Narita's arrival lounge. Her brows were knitted in a way that surpassed worry and showed she was well and truly pissed off at Yukina.
"Where's Sayo?" Yukina said, deciding to get it over with quickly.
"Taking her dad to see the doctor," Lisa said curtly. She started walking, so Yukina had no choice but to lengthen her stride, encumbered by her carry-on luggage, following Lisa to the parking lot. "But you're probably more interested in her hands. She's got an appointment scheduled. The actual surgery might have to wait for a bit, though."
"I talked to Sayo last night," she said unnecessarily. Lisa wouldn't have shown up at the airport if Sayo hadn't cleared it with her, but Yukina had learned that seemingly unnecessary gestures had meaning, too. "We've.. made up. Mostly."
"Good for you," Lisa said in a bored tone. She unlocked her car, paused, then helped Yukina put the luggage in the backseat. Yukina slipped into the passenger's seat, breathing in the car fragrance of the month, mint. She'd spent enough time in this car that her body instinctively relaxed.
The problem was the driver, who continued giving her the cold shoulder even as the car rolled out of the airport grounds. And Yukina understood, really, that she was more wrong than right. So she took a deep breath and said, "I've already apologized to Sayo, but, um, I know I also said some petty shit to you. So, I'm sorry."
"But not for disappearing and ignoring my calls?"
"I'd already informed our manager where and how long I'd stay. I came back precisely when I told her I would."
"I'm not sure I'm happy with our manager showing blatant favoritism."
Yukina had also ordered their manager not to tell anyone else, especially Lisa. Understandably, it seemed to upset her more than Yukina's original offense, which she was actually sorry about. Yukina did want to patch things up and return to a semblance of a working relationship, but she also needed Lisa to understand.
Shifting the seatbelt under her arm, she said, "Lisa, I'm not a child anymore. I realize that the timing made you more worried than usual, but even so, you can't always feel responsible for what other people brought onto themselves. For your own sake, if not theirs, let people reap their own stupidity, if it comes to that."
Lisa's smile was humorless. "Trust me, Sayo's given me an earful on the subject. But I get it. I overreacted, I guess. I did think you went over the line, what you said to Sayo—but that's between you and her." (Yukina didn't know what to think of that—Lisa's disappointment had been the critical damage that sent her running to Hakodate.) "Mostly I was feeling guilty for pretending she was managing well on her own, and I took it out on you."
"I don't think anyone can blame you for not noticing. Sayo usually does have her things together. She was hiding it from everyone, including Hina, and even you."
The lights turned red. Lisa took her eyes off the road to throw Yukina a look, one her own mother had used a lot before telling her she'd understand someday. Lisa didn't, though she did say, "It's really different when you're close. And when you look away because you don't want the other person to hate you."
"Sayo would never hate you."
Lisa looked wistful for a second. The lights turned green, and the look was gone. She changed the subject, "Also Sayo wanted me to tell you—it's all off the record for now—that Hina might be flying solo soon."
"Ah. Got bored of idol pop?"
"Mm, now that's someone else's secret… Well, it'll be on the news soon, anyway."
Yukina thought about it. She'd had the whole night, and then the plane ride to think about it. The idea had occurred to her in her wilder moments. That Sayo was compelled to pass the suggestion through someone else made her wonder how long people should be expected to hang on to their adolescent hangups. If those came with expiration dates.
Yukina slowly said, "We should meet up tonight. Just the five of us, the original Roselia."
"Oh, ominous," said Lisa. She was almost back to her normal, indulgent self.
"I'd always thought it was my responsibility. Do you remember? We pledged ourselves to Roselia."
"We were a bunch of overdramatic teenagers, Yukina."
"But I have always carried with me the duty of taking you to the pinnacle. I've always thought of Roselia as the five of us. And over time it evolved, for better or worse, the accompanying sense that it's your duty to me to continue as Roselia until I say we're done. I expected Sayo to understand that more than anyone. So when she announced she'd retire, and while we're stuck in a rut…"
Lisa sighed. "Sayo didn't want to retire so early either, you know."
"Perhaps although I'm an adult in appearance, I'm still a child who refuses to let things like filial piety or health problems to get in my way. Now, I don't know if I've grown a bit, but I've definitely changed my mind."
Lisa, perhaps wisely, said nothing.
As they arrived at Yukina's house, she said, "Aren't you going to ask what I was up to in Hakodate?"
"Honestly, I assumed I'd find out from your next song."
"Now that you mention it, it's about time we put out a love ballad or two, isn't it? Or make that a concept album. A tale of love and loss, what was and what could have been, tragedy and comedy. I expect you to write at least half of it."
Yukina smirked and closed the door on Lisa's incredulous face.