She sees a place that she's never been. All that she knows is that it's a beautiful, vibrant place, and she wants so desperately to stay.

But the details elude her. She can only guess that it's filled with the colors of spring, a warm breeze telling her that the harsh bite of winter is still so far away.

She knows that it's all just a dream, and that she will be unable to recall it clearly when she wakes up.

She probably hadn't been thinking straight last night.

She knew she had been tossing in her sleep recently, so why did she leave her window open again?

It was quite the rude awakening; before she could even open her eyes, she felt chills nipping at her bare skin, and all traces of her grogginess vanished.

Umi flinched at the rush of cold, her eyes shooting open. She took a moment to scold herself mentally for her restlessness, although it was actually quite impressive that her blankets had managed to end up on the floor. Her long-sleeved pajama shirt, black with a white bird pattern, ultimately failed its purpose as the morning chill snaked its way up her sleeves. She chuckled humorlessly as years of warnings about sleeping incorrectly, from friends and family alike, flitted through her mind. It was a miracle that she hadn't caught a cold yet.

Now fully awake, she sat up, her dark blue hair cascading far down her back. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and though her arms ached for a long stretch, she had to take care of a more annoying matter first. In a few quick strides, she threw her window curtain open. Her eyes wandered over her now-familiar overlook of the university campus, unappealing as it was, before her stiff fingers slammed the window shut.

Finally safe from the bitter cold outside, the girl let out a sigh that she didn't know she held. She rubbed her numbed hands together. A quiet had overtaken her room after those hectic moments, and she closed her eyes, trying to savor it as best she-

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

Umi shot a few inches into the air at the piercing sound, a noise less than a shriek but more than a yelp escaping her. She flushed immediately, even though there was no one around, and glared at her alarm clock. The fact that she was already awake made her feel somewhat ashamed in forgetting to turn it off, and she vented her disappointment by yanking its cord from the socket instead of turning it off the normal way.

Agitated by her multiple failures from last night and this morning, the girl stood in front of the mirror, holding bunches of unruly blue hair in both of her hands. She cursed herself for neglecting to tie it up before going to bed last night. Reaching for a brush, she tugged the bristles through her unyielding hair, wincing every time the brush forced its way through tangles and knots.

"Shorter hair would be much easier to take care of…" Her voice, still slightly raspy with the echoes of sleep, passed her lips and escaped into the confines of the bathroom. She frowned at her folly; alone in her apartment, talking to herself was excusable, but doing so in the middle of class, or while sitting at a table in the school café, only earned her strange glances from her fellow students and even some of the campus staff. It was a new habit that she was not proud of, and this, coupled with her persistent shyness, led her to believe that people who said "you'll make your best friends in college" were either social butterflies or compulsive liars.

Umi returned her focus to the mirror, and realized that she had finished straightening out her hair while reflecting on her own shortcomings.

She really had to stop spacing out so often… is what she always told herself, but two years of this had done little to show that she was really improving. Setting her brush back on the sink, she remembered that such despondent thoughts needed to wait until later, or else she would be late for class.

Her morning routine left her a few minutes to spare before the walk to class, so Umi took that time to gather up last night's discarded blankets, laying them out neatly before taking a seat on the bedside. She glanced at her alarm clock to double-check, before she remembered that it was unplugged from her earlier rage. Instead of getting up to plug it back in, she reached for her smartphone, face-down and silent next to the alarm clock.

As she grabbed hold of it, her attention was drawn to the third item on her nightstand, an unassuming notepad with a plastic, tan cover. Her original purpose forgotten, she absently put the phone in her pants pocket before reaching for the little booklet. She couldn't explain why, but as she did so, her thoughts took her back to last night's dream.

Why couldn't she ever remember? Her dreams were always the same - or at least, she thought they were always the same, because she could only remember the same details from all of them. The colors, the sensations, and the feelings were always the same, but such a vague set of details (or lack thereof) didn't give her much to work with.

Umi grimaced, steeling herself as her fingers pried open the notepad. It eased open to the first entry, having done so countless times before. Of course, the same trivial words were there to greet her, scrawled in the haze of excitement and half-sleep:

- Green (garden?)

- Summer warm breeze?

- Bright

- ?

The girl sighed. The words didn't stir any memories in her or lead to any sudden moments of recollection. She didn't have anything else to add to them either.

"I guess I have to admit defeat…" she muttered, tossing the notebook back onto the nightstand. She needed to leave now to make it to class on time, anyway.

She took her coat and scarf off of the coat rack next to the door, throwing them on in succession. Taking a moment to gather herself, she stepped out to meet the cold, her thoughts tinged with green.

8:00 A.M.

Romantic Poetry.

Class size: Somewhere in the 200s.

Umi didn't know which of the three facts about her earliest class made her head throb the most, but at the very least, none of them seemed pleasant as she entered the lecture hall. With ten minutes left before the class officially started, she had planned on arriving ten minutes early to secure a seat with minimal trouble. Looking around, she was satisfied to see that the class was far from full, with the students already present either looking over the previous class's notes or chatting to pass the time.

She searched for a good seat briefly before picking one near the back of the class. After pulling out her notes, still open to the most recently written page, she started to review last Friday's lecture.

However, it didn't take her long to realize that Friday's class had been an unproductive one. She rubbed her cheek as she flipped back a page, her fears slowly coming into focus.

"These aren't going to help me at all…"

"Slacking off in class again, Sonoda-san?"

Umi jumped at the sudden voice in her ear, whipping her head around to see a grinning face that she was becoming all too familiar with.

"M-Marika-san?! Why must you sneak up on me like that?" Umi protested, her indignance only rising as the other girl snickered.

"Sorry, sorry." Even though her persisting grin indicated otherwise, Marika waved off her actions with an apologetic hand. "You really have to be more careful, you know. What if I wanted to prank you? You're wide open when you're spacing out like that." She shook her head in mock disapproval and her short black bob bounced with the motion, a hairstyle that she had worn ever since Umi had become acquainted with her.

Unintentionally, Marika's words led Umi to think her old friends, who definitely would prank her if she had her guard down. She pushed the memories back down. "I wasn't spacing out, I was studying." She gestured to her open notebook.

"What can you get out of studying that?" In a blatant invasion of personal space, the black-haired girl leaned over Umi's shoulder, brown eyes scrutinizing her notes … if they could even be considered proper notes. Much to her dismay, Marika let out a low whistle after a few moments. "Wow, did you even go to class last week? Looks like you looked up the lectures online and wrote down whatever you could find."

Umi glowered at her and opened her mouth to respond, but the other girl wasn't finished yet. When Marika turned to look at her, her grin had returned. "Too busy writing lyrics again, huh?"

"Hey!" Umi's voice lowered to a whisper, albeit a fierce one, and her hand reached out to grip her classmate's shoulder. Easing the other girl off of her, she looked around furtively before continuing. "You said you wouldn't mention that in public!"

"It's fine, it's fine!" Marika finally took her seat, having been denied access to Umi's notebook, but she didn't drop the subject. "If no one else in here has recognized you yet, then they never will!" She winked, flashing the shoulder strap of her bag at Umi to reveal its only accessory: a μ's button, complete with all nine members bunched into one picture, each one of them smiling broadly.

Umi took her eyes off of the button for a moment to glare at Marika. "Still, if you say things like that too loudly, people will get curious."

"Ah, I guess you're right." Marika sounded surprised, as if this was some sort of revelation.

Umi nodded. "You know I don't want the extra attention."

The black-haired girl sighed. "I dunno, I think it'd be awesome to have everyone on campus recognize me…" Glancing over to see Umi's glare, she rubbed the back of her head and hurriedly changed the subject. "Did you finish that rough-draft analysis of the Keats anthology that's due today?"

Inwardly, Umi was relieved that her classmate had finally dropped the matter, but she hid it by reaching for her bag, where said analysis lay amongst her countless other papers. "I did, but I don't think I put enough thought into it…"

"I bet it's fine~" Marika hummed, more to herself than to Umi, as she took the paper.

While Marika looked over her paper, silence finally settled between the two girls. With nothing else to do, Umi's eyes wandered back to the button on Marika's bag. Her own face, three years younger but still much the same, beamed back at her, along with the eight other girls she had considered her dearest friends.

Happy as the depiction was, staring at it only dredged up unpleasant memories towards the unraveling of μ's and what happened after that. Umi shook her head lightly and forced her thoughts elsewhere, a more recent time when she met the girl sitting next to her.

Umi hadn't expecting anyone to recognize her upon entering college. She was going on her second year away from μ's, and the people who recognized her on the street were only decreasing with time.

She had been on campus for about a month, and she hadn't seen any knowing glances sent her way or whispers, quiet as a jet engine, behind her back. Then, she had been sitting alone in her first college writing class when something shiny slid onto her paper.

It was that same μ's button. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she whirled around in her seat to meet a tall girl sporting a wide grin.

"So it really is you." The girl spoke first.

"You… know me?" Umi hadn't prepared to be recognized; in hindsight, that wasn't her smartest idea.

"I'm a fan! I'd be ashamed not to know the one and only lyricist of μ's." She reached over Umi's portion of the desk to take her button back, fastening it back onto her bag strap. "I thought you girls would go so far after you won the Love Live that year… but I guess life catches up to you, huh?"

Umi must have looked shocked at the casual mention of their disbanding, because the other girl reddened. "Ah, that's really insensitive of me." She looked away sheepishly, scratching her short black hair. "I said all that, and I haven't properly introduced myself! The name's Marika," she stated proudly, extending a hand. "Everyone calls me that, no need to act formal around me!"

Umi took the hand in hers, and the girls shook. "I'm Sonoda Umi… but it seems you already knew that."

Marika nodded. Her grin had returned. "I actually got to shake the hand of an idol!" She cheered, more to herself than to Umi.

The idol in question, however, did take issue with her celebration. "Marika-san!" she hissed, rising out of her seat. "Not so loud!"

"Why? You're an idol! Or you were, anyway," she corrected herself.

"Well, yes, but no one here knows that." Umi sighed, sitting back down.

"Really?" Marika surveyed the class. "I guess that explains why you're always alone…"

Those words would have stung if they weren't true. "Yes, so could you please not mention this to anyone else?"

"Not even to my friends?"

"If one other person finds out, everyone will find out." Umi gave her a pointed look.

She was surprised to see Marika's grin turn mischevious. "The great Sonoda-san wants to share a secret with me? That's not so bad, either."

Umi wanted to roll her eyes, but she restrained herself. "Is that an agreement?"

"Your secret's safe with me!" Marika emphasized her point with a hearty slap on Umi's back. She jumped at the contact, more out of surprise than pain.

As it had turned out, keeping Marika silent about her former idol status was a better move than she had anticipated. The girl seemed to have friends in every department: Umi would see her across campus in the most surprising places, chatting with anyone from sports teams to sororities.

With as wide of a circle that she had, it was a stroke of luck that she kept her word; not one other person had approached Umi with the glittering, hungry eyes of a fan. On the other hand, her social butterfly status meant that she only had time for Umi inside the lecture hall. Outside the hall, she always excused herself immediately for group studies, club meetings, or whatever else she crammed into her busy schedule. Though she always invited her, Umi always declined. She knew she couldn't handle being surrounded by strangers all day, friendly as Marika insisted that they were.

A paper floated back onto her portion of the desk: her paper. Umi picked it up, turning questioningly back to a hesitant Marika.

The other girl leaned in close. "You should probably get that paper looked over by your T.A.," she whispered.

The blue-haired girl sighed. She had seen this coming. It didn't make her any less disappointed in herself, though.

She closed her eyes and wondered when class would be over.

Umi couldn't relax. Not when the teacher's aide was burning a hole into her Keats analysis with his eyes. At Marika's urging, she had gone to her T.A.'s office to get a second opinion, but now she was seriously starting to question that decision.

"Sonoda-san." Her aide, Satoshi, adjusted his rounded glasses as he lowered her paper.

"Y-yes?" Umi couldn't tell if he was trying to intimidate her, or he was just building up to his big reveal that her paper was a steaming pile of garbage.

He held that expression for a moment longer before letting out a sigh. "Sonoda-san, how's college treating you? Are you having a hard time adjusting?"

Umi tried her best to maintain a neutral expression, though she wondered why her aide suddenly had such an interest in her personal life. "I'm fine..." she replied. "It's nothing too difficult or stressful."

Satoshi nodded, handing back her paper. Umi took it, curious to why he hadn't offered any feedback yet. "That's good, that's good," he nodded, almost absently. "I'm asking because it's related to what I have to say about your paper, before you ask." He chuckled after Umi flushed red, her thoughts now out in the open. The smile didn't last long, as his brow furrowed in thought.

"Look, I'm sure you know what I'm about to tell you, so I don't take pleasure in it." He folded his hands on his desk. He looked too professional. Umi nodded, letting him continue.

"I know you can write better than this. You know you can write better than this. I recognized your name when you signed up for this class. In all our meetings, one of the first-year T.A.'s always talked about how one of her students had this gift for understanding poetry. She said that her student had such an amazing grasp on the poet's emotions, like she could feel those emotions the same way those poets did, exactly as they described it." His voice rose steadily as he went on, until he was practically shouting, filling up the otherwise empty room. Clearing his throat, Satoshi continued with a more calm demeanor. "Did you ever receive feedback of that nature, Sonoda-san?"

Umi nodded, although a frown creased her face. "I never understood what she meant by that, exactly..."

"But you get the idea, right? You have a talent, Sonoda-san!" Satoshi answered his own question. "People like you who have such a firm grasp on the emotions that lay within an arrangement of words, especially in the intricate art form of poetry, can go on to achieve great things! Maybe students will read about you in a textbook, years from now!"

But I don't want to be read about in a textbook..."That sounds like a lonely path to take." Umi pictured the scenario in her head for a second, indulging her senior's visions of grandeur.

Satoshi nodded gravely. "Yes, but to be forever misunderstood is the price a great writer must pay." Luckily, he seemed to remember the reason Umi had come to him in that very moment, because he hurriedly gestured towards her paper. "Right, your analysis! It's just not something that a 'great writer' would produce."

At this, he produced a notepad and paper from one of his desk drawers. "It's adequate if you'd just like a passing grade in this class, but it's far too rudimentary for anything beyond that." He motioned at her paper, and Umi realized after a moment that he wanted her to open it up. She complied, and only then did Satoshi continue, while he scribbled down characters on his notepad. "We know, we know that Keats loved to write about death. You don't have to mention that in every other sentence. That's high school stuff."

Apparently he was done writing, since he ripped the note off of its pad. He offered it to Umi, who accepted it. "Like I just said, you have to tap into what the author was thinking when he wrote this. I know people love to say that 'there's no wrong interpretation' for a writing piece" - at this, he rolled his eyes, an exaggerated gesture that made Umi want to roll hers - "but I believe some are more right than others."

His pen jabbed at the blue-haired girl as he spoke. "And I believe that you can figure out what lies past all of Keats' talk about death, Sonoda-san. The 'more right' answer waits for you, you just have to try a little harder! I listed more feedback for you on that note you're holding. Please do consider it as you write your final draft."

Sensing that her aide's lecture was over, Umi stood up stiffly. "Thank you very much." After a swift bow, she turned for the exit. She didn't want to stay in that suffocating office for a moment longer.

She didn't waste a second; after the door to the office closed, she let out a long sigh. Her hand instinctively went to her forehead as she tried to put some distance between herself and that draining feedback session.

A quick glance up at the darkening sky told her that she had spent too long in there, just as she had tried not to think about it as she began the long walk back to her room, but keeping her train of thought from barrelling down that path never worked.

Admittedly, he had unmatched passion for the "art of poetry," as he called it, and his enthusiasm could be infectious… on the good days. On the bad ones, well…

Umi shuddered, suppressing memories of hours in Satoshi's office as he rambled on and on about the benefits, the unexplored possibilities, and the inside-outs of their "craft." The longer his lectures dragged on, the longer his sentences and the more expansive his vocabulary got. It was a small miracle as to how he never managed to run out of breath -

She bumped into another student, who shot Umi a look as she mumbled an apology. Hopefully that didn't mean she had been talking to herself again.

Under normal circumstances, Umi would have been grateful to have an aide as passionate as him, one who was so intent on helping her improve (in his roundabout way)... if his lectures didn't always lead back to the same message:

"You can write better than this."

"You have so much potential!"

"Why aren't you trying harder?"

It took many different forms, but Umi always heard the same thing. She wasn't living up to her "potential."

She hated that word. She hated it because she was trying, and she knew that she could do better than she was. She wanted to say that she had used up all of her inspiration already, used it all three years ago to pursue a dream that she had truly believed to be within reach.

Back then, it certainly seemed within reach.

Now…

Now, she stood in front of the door to her apartment.

"Gods, when did I become so depressing?"

Her old self would have told her that there was a way out of this, and that the way out demanded hard work and a strong mind.

But she had left her old self at home, before she left for university. She only had one of those traits now.

Her writing classes had failed to bring any sort of inspiration back thus far. Umi refused to consider what would happen if this was the norm from now on, since she already knew. She could already hear the voices swirling in her head, all echoing the same thing: "What happened to her?"

Umi dug for the apartment keys in her bag. She could think about this inside, where it was warmer.

"I'm back…" She murmured the words; soft so only she could hear them.

As always, she opened the door to an empty apartment. She didn't mind the silence. It let her be alone with her thoughts.

Although, she mused, too much time alone is probably unhealthy.

Umi shrugged off the thought, falling onto her mattress. She sunk into the comforters, sighing with relief. It was almost dark outside…

...but a quick nap would energize and motivate her to write her final draft, she reasoned. Satoshi's lecture had taken a lot out of her, anyway.

Her eyes were already closing when she realized that she had yet to plug in her alarm clock from that morning's incident. By then, it was too late. She swore that she could see green already, in her last moments of consciousness.

…

….

….

She bolted up and out of her sleep, wide awake in a moment. This was it. She remembered.

She groped around in the dark, her golden eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the darkness of her room. Finding purchase on her smartphone, she clicked the power on, only to shut her eyes at the sudden burst of light. The pain subsided after a moment, and she was able to crack her eyes open to a squint, enough to read the time in bright white text.

2:21 A.M. She still had more than five hours before class.

Perfect.

Umi leapt out of bed, swiping her notepad off of the nightstand. At her desk, she flicked on the lamp, flinching again at the light flooding her room, and sat on the bare wooden chair. With a satisfying click of the pen, she began to write.

She had forgotten how it felt, how naturally the words came to her. A year of college writing classes had only left a bad taste in her mouth, regardless of the grades that she received.

When she wrote lyrics, it seemed like she had only to touch her pen to the paper, and her hand moved of its own accord. She had tried, and failed, to do so enough times in the past that she was certain that her inspiration had left her.

It could have picked a better time to return, Umi thought as she wrote, but she certainly wasn't complaining.

When she lifted pen from paper, she felt drained, excited, and nervous all at once. How long had it been since she started? Maybe she had to get ready for class soon…

2;53 A.M.

"Oh."

What to do now? Her mind still buzzed with metaphors and rhymes and unsung melodies. There was no way she'd be able to sleep now.

She stood up, her chair clattering from the sudden motion. The mad flurry of writing had left her fingers shaking with energy; she had to do something. Taking a few paces around her room, her eyes drifted over to her closed window. She threw it open, and a shudder ran down her body as the frigid night air rushed into her room, but she welcomed the feeling.

Her thoughts slowed to a more reasonable clip, and Umi was able to see the first issue with her situation.

Back when she actually held songwriting duties, her friends were always eager to look over and critique her lyrics the next day. Here, though, no one even knew about that part of her.

Umi felt the beginnings of discouragement seep into her before her eyes lit up. There was someone here who could help!

Her smartphone still lay on her desk. She snatched it up, opening her contact list and breezing through the short list of names before finding the intended one: Nishikino Maki. She moved over to their text message history, just to confirm that her memory was correct.

Maki: hey, umi.

Maki: i know it's been a while, but i'll be attending your college next year

Maki: Mama and Papa told me that you have a good bio program over there, so i tested for it and i got in

Maki: we probably won't see each other that much, but if you want to meet or get lunch or just talk, i'll be there

Maki: if i'm not too busy, of course

Umi: That's great news! I hope to see you soon. Good luck.

Reading over the timestamps, Umi realized that their conversation had been in March, more than six months ago.

Her finger moved to press the "Call" icon… and then she hesitated. Tentative as they were, their plans to meet up had fallen through with nary a word mentioned from either party. Would Maki mind her breaking the silence? Especially with a request like this one…

She pressed the call icon. She had to do something about this; she couldn't let her inspiration slip away just when it had finally found her again.

Her phone was on the second ring when she realized that she was calling at three in the morning. Some reason entered her adrenaline-addled mind, and she wanted to slap herself for her lack of self-control.

But there was no turning back at this point. "She's a biology major. Maybe she's staying up late, doing homework…" Umi mused aloud.

Homework or otherwise, she was ultimately greeted with an automated voice after the fourth ring. That was probably a good thing. She chastised herself for thinking that Maki, or anyone, expected a call at three in the morning.

With her head finally on straight, Umi took another look at the completed lyrics on her desk. It was less than twenty lines, less than a full page long… but it was a start. And it made her heart throb with happiness.

She was ready to take it farther, to go through the process one more time… but it could wait another day or two to start, she supposed.

The professor was in the middle of a lecture on Coleridge when Umi's phone went off. Luckily, she was sitting in the back as she always did, so she only had to endure the half-curious, half-judgmental stares from her classmates for a couple seconds before she made it outside.

She ignored the chill of the outside air as her hand probed her pants pocket, fishing out her phone after a moment. She peered at the contact name as it came into focus: Nishikino Maki. Her heart leapt and she hurried to press the 'Answer' part of her screen.

"Maki? What is it?"

"Don't 'What is it' me!" The familiar voice snapped back, and despite its bite, Umi had to smile. "Why did you call me at three in the morning?! Has something happened to you?"

"Sorry." Umi flushed red upon hearing that her overzealousness had been taken the wrong way. "I'm fine, it's just… I was rather worked up last night, you see…"

She heard Maki sigh on the other end. "Worked up? About what?" came the response.

"Hmm…" Umi looked back to the lecture hall, realizing she had left everything in there in her rush to get out. It would be easier to explain herself if was able to show Maki what she was working on, so…

"I can show you. Are you free for lunch?"

"Eh? Today?" The other girl sounded surprised. Umi couldn't blame her.

"Yes! As soon as possible!"

"..."

"I'll pay for you!" Umi clenched her free hand into a fist, even though the show of determination was lost over the phone.

"Okay, okay!" Maki relented. "I have a class that doesn't get out until 2:30, is all. I hope you don't mind waiting."

"I can wait!"

"It's that important, huh? Ah, I guess I'll see later today." The line went dead, cutting off Umi from getting anything else in edgewise.

Umi didn't realize that she was smiling until she put her phone back in her coat pocket. Replaying the conversation with Maki over in her head, she pumped her fist in the air, giggling with happiness.

Then she realized that she was still on a public campus. She glanced around, making sure no one had seen her little spectacle, and hurried back inside. Hopefully, everyone had forgotten about her earlier disruption.