III. Within this unsingable brick ward
The orange tabby lounged on the top of the cat tree, seemingly unaware of Minato's longing gaze. But as Minato went back to her coffee — black but for the bucket of sugar dumped into it — the cat cast down its unblinking stare. And as Minato looked back up, the cat leapt onto the empty hanging rack next to the tree, and tottered down to the lap of another patron.
Sayo hid a smile behind the rim of her cup. Minato's pout didn't last long as a grey kitten bounded up to her, batting at her knee playfully. Minato scooped it into her lap, bouncing it as one would a baby. If Imai were here she'd take pictures and send them to Sayo. Not that Sayo would, but she supposed she understood the instinct.
"Did Imai tell you about this place?" Minato asked when she finally deigned to address her. "Our classmates were talking about it just today."
"So did mine," Sayo answered. They could both be true: Imai had come up with this cat cafe when Sayo had told her plan, and during lunch break Maruyama's determination to invite Shirasagi and Matsubara couldn't be ignored. "But how are you finding it, Minato-san?"
The kitten wriggled, and with visible reluctance Minato let it go. The gaze she fixed Sayo was not quite soft if curious. "It's very relaxing. But I don't think you invited me solely to play with cats."
"I simply thought a little leisure after exams period was in order." To be precise, Minato had completed all her entrance exams; Sayo still had a couple more to go through. With the new year came a frigid winter, exams, and in Sayo's mailbox a gaudy, bulky envelope stamped with international postage.
She had its most important content with her now. Without further ado she presented the letter of acceptance to Minato.
"…It's in English," Minato said dryly after pretending to read it for a full five seconds.
"My bad. Around November last year I sent an application to a school in America. This is a letter confirming that I qualified for an admission."
Minato's eyes lit up when Sayo mentioned the name. Which was a relief: she hadn't wasted her only shot on a piddling university. But then Minato's expression hardened, though she waited for Sayo's explanation. Very well, Sayo hadn't expected any less.
"My sole reason for sending this application was to test myself. I didn't tell you, or indeed anyone, so as not to cause undue confusion. Should I fail, nothing would have changed. Succeed, an option would be in our hands. The final decision was always going to hinge on your opinion."
"An option in our hands," Minato repeated, turning Sayo's conclusion into an opening phrase. That was expected, too.
Sayo nodded. "In the event that Roselia will go into hiatus and we all go our separate ways to hone our techniques, so I shall move to the other side of the world to gain knowledge for Roselia. If you think it wise."
The orange tabby was back, staring at the back of Minato's head. When she didn't seem to notice at all it fixed its beady eyes on Sayo. She ignored it. Minato could have been carved out of marble. Her voice was cool as she said, "What I think of it isn't as important as what you think, isn't it? If Roselia is no longer the place for you, then I would only be selfish to keep you with us."
She spoke as though Sayo should find the words familiar. Sayo filed it to the back of her head to ruminate later. Carefully, she said, "I'm not thinking of leaving Roselia. That is never an option. I'm sure with our modern technology we could contrive of some way to continue our activities as before even though we are geographically separated."
"Of course. And I'm only reminding you of our policy, our boundaries, as it were. After all, you alone will walk the path you choose."
The orange tabby suddenly jumped on Minato's lap. Surprised, but delighted, Minato scratched the back of its ears. Sayo swallowed her disappointment. The tension had dissipated, and she didn't think it was just due to the cat's interruption. Minato clearly had said all she had on the topic. Neither interested nor bitter, bored at worst, neutral at best. The optimistic part of her that sounded like Hina interpreted it as trust.
"Now, Sayo, about our next performance…"
Sayo sat at attention. The discussion continued well past their allotted time at the cafe.
—
In the event that a hiatus is inevitable, Sayo had said in the manner of one planning for a summer vacation that would never happen for reasons beyond their control. But should this highly improbable trip your little sister dreamed of come to reality, here's what I'd like to do…
It was a comparison she'd noticed herself made only after the idea had become entrenched. Hina and Minato, little sisters. Capricious beings who set their sights as far as the stars and beyond, unstoppable forces once they'd decided on a course, creatures that would make a pathetic sight bound close to earth. And somewhere in their vicinity there was Sayo, doing her best to keep up and smooth feathers ruffled in their wake. There the similarity ended. Hina often looked back, expecting Sayo to keep up, and held out her hand in case she fell behind. Minato, being someone else's little sister, had no such compunction — she couldn't afford to stop for anyone. If she had been anything else Sayo wouldn't have followed. In any case Minato and Sayo walked side by side. In such a standing there would be no need for Minato to look back.
So, months after Minato had dreamed of a hiatus, Sayo replied with an improbable plan of her own. And with that the time for daydreaming was over, and reality resumed.
—
In Roselia terms, it went like this: at the end of the month, on the day of the show, the next Saturday evening, Sayo arrived a few minutes before the stage was officially theirs to commandeer, and the rest a few minutes after. They set up the stage. It was routine work, but one that required care regardless. The performance, too, was routine. It wasn't in the sense that it was boring, or that Sayo didn't still feel a flutter of nerves prior to striking the first chord. There was a flow, and Sayo didn't so much lose herself in it as become hyper-aware of how her sound moved within it. From her mind to her fingers to the noise undulating within the space carved through countless hours of practice together for her alone.
And so she more than noticed when Minato changed the shape. A square hole instead of a circle she'd been expecting, passable, but not the same. It wasn't wrong, either. The note she played on the bass wasn't discordant, but it wasn't what was written on the sheet, how the sound of the phrase had always been interpreted — it wasn't what they'd agreed on. At first Sayo thought it was a mistake, but the same incident happened several more times across the entire setlist, seemingly for no other reason than Minato's whimsy had taken a different turn. Sayo filed it to the back of her mind. The show must go on.
The show must also end. It was with reluctance and not a little satisfaction that Sayo muted the strings. Tension ran high. By the end of each show she was always wound tight. Higher, farther, she wasn't ready to land on earth just yet. Judging by the intensity of the cheer, neither was the audience. Sayo might have basked in the limelight a little. And therefore she didn't notice Minato had only gripped her mic tighter until she made her announcement.
"Thank you for coming today. As of this last performance, Roselia will enter hiatus."
As one with the audience, the last caught her flat-footed. Stuck against a triangular hole where she had expected the same circle.
"… an indefinite hiatus, and we will return when the time is right. That's all."
The confused buzz of the leaving audience drowned any conversation they could have had on stage. It was probably the only reason Minato could make Udagawa concentrate on tidying up the space. But once they were done, and the stage was vacated, and they were alone outside of CiRCLE, nothing could stop Udagawa.
"What, why, what's wrong? What about the Future World FES?" Already tears had gathered in her eyes. Privately Sayo was also curious about the second question. They, she and Minato, had reached an impasse on the topic. Sayo had thought they were ready; Minato not so. Then Imai had broken her arm and taken the choice out of their hands. The topic had never come up again.
Minato looked at each of them straight in turn. "The Future World FES was never our endpoint. Do you remember, Udagawa? Our true aim is the pinnacle of music. The FWF is but a step toward that. We must set our sight higher. Now that we are at a crossroad it's a good time to re-evaluate what we need to do as a band to proceed. And there's the matter of finding a new bassist — "
"Are you going to ask Lisa-nee to come back? Because she's no longer sad all the time and back at full capacity…"
The look Minato gave Udagawa grew steadily colder until Udagawa's speech shuttered to a stop. Minato said, "I have no use for traitors and cowards. Now that aside — "
"Lisa-nee isn't a traitor! But you're a coward!"
"Udagawa-san, please calm down," Sayo said, but Minato lifted a hand to stop her.
"No, let her. Go ahead, Ako. Repeat what you said."
Udagawa's entire face was puckered. Just as Sayo thought she'd wisely back down, she blurted it all in one breath, "You don't believe in us anymore and you want to replace us, but you're too cowardly to say that so you're saying there's a hiatus. W-well, I'm not quitting!"
So she declared while beating a teary retreat. Rinko moved jerkily, half chasing Udagawa, half confronting Minato. She snapped to face Sayo, fists clenched and trembling by her sides. "Hikawa-san, did you know… has Yukina-san consulted you…?"
Sayo kept her expression carefully blank. In this moment keeping things from spiraling further out of control seemed more important than exposing her true feelings. "I realize that the time and place is inappropriate for this discussion. Perhaps we could sit down and talk properly — with Udagawa-san as well — tomorrow?"
Rinko's eyes narrowed, and Sayo was struck by how much Rinko had changed right under her nose. "You're also surprised…" Rinko turned to Minato. "Do you understand… why Ako-chan is upset…?"
Minato's nose flared. "I'm sure you'd enlighten me either way."
"Ako-chan accused you of giving up… will you not deny it?"
"Udagawa may think whatever she wishes so long as it doesn't affect the band. That has always been how we work."
Rinko shook her head. "Then what is Roselia to you? …and what are we? If you've found the answer… then perhaps… I'll tell you mine."
Minato continued frowning after Rinko left, as though genuinely perturbed by the question. But only for a second. When she turned to Sayo she was once again unflappable. "I suppose you have questions of your own," she started, the end of her sentence drowned by a shrill shout.
"There you are!"
The interloper couldn't be much older than Udagawa, even younger, though Sayo couldn't tell precisely with the low lighting. She made up for it with a swagger worthy of, well, Minato on stage, and an ostentatious pair of headphones that seemed to be tailored to attract Minato's attention. "Can I — "
"You! You're Minato Yukina!" Cat-Ears said, ignoring Sayo entirely. "My name is Chu2. I'm a producer!"
Eyebrows raised, Minato stared at her outstretched hand. As if she hadn't been summarily dismissed, Cat-Ears took an envelope out of her pocket and ploughed on, "I saw your performance. That was great, by the way, but I also heard your band is going into a hiatus. So I know you're looking for something better. You should join me! Together we'll make an even greater music!"
Minato took the envelope even as she said, "I think you're mistaken. I make and sing no other songs but my own. Even the songs I cover will be remade in my own sound."
Hands on hips, Cat-Ears said, "What are you saying? Are you looking down on me?"
"No, I simply aim for nothing less than the best I can be. It might occasionally mean incorporating greater music, but in the end it must be my own and no other's. If you are serious about making great music you'd understand this. Now, inviting me aboard, are you prepared to compromise on the way to greatness?"
Cat-Ears opened her mouth and shut it, open and shut. Her finger sprung just inches from Minato's nose. "You are looking down on me! Are you kidding? Your band sounds so much worse without your bassist and you're still hanging to them?"
Minato's expression twitched, then hardened. "Even if I was looking down on you, if you were serious you'd at least consider my words." She brandished the envelope, making a spectacle of putting it inside her purse. "I'll hang on to this. Sayo, we go."
Frowning, Sayo followed her and left Cat-Ears to sulk like the child she was. "Minato-san, where are we going?"
Minato gave her a long, side look. "My house. I see you have a lot of things to say yourself."
On the train, Sayo sent Hina and her parents a message saying she might be a bit late. The journey helped ease the tension borne from the performance and the successive confrontations. Udagawa, Shirokane, and now this strange little girl — Sayo wondered just how many more people Minato were planning to upset tonight. Not Sayo, surely. She gathered her thoughts as she walked beside Minato. She must stay focused on the greater picture, on the truly important matter, and not let her feelings lead her astray.
Entering Minato's home, saying her greetings to the Minatos before quickly being ushered upstairs. Into Minato's room. At another occasion Sayo might have taken her time to look around. Sayo took off her coat and guitar case and purse, and made herself no more comfortable than that. Minato hadn't said anything, not even to tell Sayo to sit down. They stood in the middle of the room, facing each other. Straight to the heart of the matter, the way they had always operated.
"Let's hear it. Your complaints."
Complaints. Condescending right off the bat. Sayo nodded. "Minato-san, do you not understand what made Udagawa-san and Shirokane-san upset?"
"Oh, but you're complicit in this. You too kept the matter hidden from the others."
"Perhaps I trusted you to recognize that a matter that affects the entire band needed to be discussed with all band members accounted for."
Absurdly, Minato smiled at that. "And again, that's something you could've done yourself. You're not my dog, Sayo. In any case I thought you'd be happy with the hiatus. Now you're free to go to America with nothing binding you to Japan."
"Putting this on me when you've had your chance — I sought your opinion specifically, Minato-san. You could have spoken up then."
In contrast Minato seemed inhumanly calm, which didn't soothe Sayo's temper one bit. "And I've given you my opinion. Do you think I'm stupid, Sayo? How long do you think the sort of long distance cooperation you dreamed of could last? You could form your own band and I'd be none the wiser.
"But this is how it's always going to be between us, isn't it? All the should haves and could haves, and you'll always look back and find faults with me. You and Ako and Rinko and Lisa, you'll say that Roselia is more than just me, but in the end everything is always my fault, as though I'm keeping you all chained to me. So here it is: I'm offering us all a chance to start anew with a clean slate. Stay, or leave, but do so out of your ambition for the pinnacle, and not out of any obligations to me."
Minato's speech buzzed in her ears like white noise. It was all true, and Sayo knew she should have agreed. She'd have agreed under normal circumstances, but that Minato had fired her shot, and she must return. Udagawa's accusation came back to her. If even their youngest member could see it… "No, Minato-san, it is you who lacks dedication. You talk of devoting yourself to music, but turned your eyes away at a trouble brewing under your nose. A trouble you were uniquely poised to solve."
"What are you… Is this about Lisa? Again? After what I said about looking back?"
Sayo folded her arms, not giving into the taunt. "Without getting into how you've failed Imai-san as her friend, for all your wise speech to that girl earlier I don't see you being willing to adapt. You cling to our old sound, Minato-san — and you cling to Imai-san's presence. Do you think we're so stupid as to not be able to see that? Any bassist could've easily filled her position, but few would make the same sound. And so you kept it vacant. As Udagawa-san said, you're a coward. Unwilling to chance our sound changing, unwilling to risk other members leaving you for better pasture."
Sayo knew even as she made her attack that she was crossing a line. But someone would have to, eventually, as with each retort each stepped closer to the line. Sayo just chose to do it on her own terms. Minato knew it too. Anger warped her usually impassive facade, and Sayo felt no little amount of satisfaction at causing it. Just as soon the anger was gone, and Minato was once again as pristine as a porcelain doll. "Is that all? Then let me show you — dedication."
Minato snatched a cat doll from within a shelf, where it had been holding a thin stack of books from falling. Without a word she marched to the door leading to the verandah and noisily slid it open.
Very briefly Sayo considered putting on her coat and guitar case and left. It would be the rational thing to do, giving them both time to think and re-negotiate once emotions had calmed down. But that would be admitting defeat. And Sayo hated losing, much less deliberately giving up. The rest of her, still wound tight with the leftover energy from the show and sheer rage, simply stalked to the verandah.
Chapter title is taken from Namae no nai kaibutsu.
