V. Light up the fire

Someone was singing and playing the guitar by the rabbit pen. This early in the morning, when only the most dedicated club members would have arrived for early practice, Sayo only had a short list of suspects, and wasn't surprised by the culprit's identity at all. She waited until Hanazono had stopped playing to greet her.

"I'm busking," explained PoPiPa's guitarist.

Sayo nodded gravely. "I see."

"I need to keep myself sharp even when I'm not playing with the others, so I'm busking." Interview done, she repositioned her guitar and began strumming and humming.

Sayo watched as the rabbits continued their lagomorphic activities, none of which included listening to Hanazono. A tough crowd, but certainly no harder to please than the passerbies rushing to and fro a station. Certainly it disturbed the public less, which placated the disciplinary officer in Sayo.

Abruptly the guitar stopped. "Would you like to join me, Sayo-senpai?"

She considered it for a second, then shook her head regretfully. "Not today. I don't have my guitar with me."

Hanazono looked Sayo up and down, as if just now noticing the lack of guitar case on her back. "That's right, you didn't have it yesterday, either. Or the day before yesterday, or before that."

Sayo was surprised that Hanazono had noticed, though she shouldn't be: Hanazono had always had her guitar with her, be it rain or snow or exam week. She didn't think Hanazono was judging her but she felt chided regardless. And her feeble excuse, "I've been busy with exams," wasn't convincing even to herself.

"Hmhm, then I'll take a rain check for the next time you're ready for the guitar again," Hanazono said cryptically, then went back to strumming, picking up a phrase right where she'd left it.

This early in the morning, this close to final exams and the end of the school term and therefore the end of club activities, the kyuudo range was eerily quiet, tranquil as the discipline required. In this silence the single ring of a bowstring lasted forever. Sayo knew who must have made this sound. Strings were alike that way, she reflected, strung between a bent wood, or the long necks of musical instruments, bending to the whims of the user, revealing their character.

"Hey, look who's decided to come back to the world of the living. How's life, Hikawa?" Nakamori said without looking. She was squinting at the arrows on the target. They were all over the place, more the work of a complete novice than the captain of the kyuudo club. It was as though she hadn't meant to shoot the centre. As Sayo returned her greeting, she shot another arrow, also off the centre, then stepped back and admired her result.

"You know, Hikawa, after watching so many of your cute underclassmen and not so cute peers right and still missed, and then got flustered and missed more, you just have to start wondering, why does it have to be at the centre, anyway? What's a target but any place you want to hit?"

Sayo pondered the question as she inspected her bow. Since she had more or less withdrawn from the club in order to make time for Roselia and exams, out of courtesy she had refrained from prying too deeply into how their latest foray into the nationals had gone. Hanasakigawa had lost, obviously, but she didn't know how badly. At length, she said, "I'm sure they've all done your best, though there's always room for improvement. Nevertheless, I'm sorry you lost your last shot at the nationals."

"Hah, you'd say that… ah, well, I'll still do kyuudo at uni so it's not a big deal. But, hey, do you know what everyone kept saying back there?" Sayo inclined her head. "If only we had Hikawa."

"My apologies," Sayo said, though Nakamori had spoken with the air of one discussing the weather. There was no accusation — in fact Nakamori beckoned Sayo to make her shot. She obliged. The world narrowed down to the bow and arrow on one side, the target on the other, and her body in between. Breathe, draw, and release. As long as her form was perfect so her shot would strike true. Sayo liked that about kyuudo. This time it was no different: her arrow struck where she meant it to.

Nakamori whistled. "Yeah, like that. Anyway, don't pay those lazy gits no mind. Your presence making all the difference means mad respect for you, but if the club seriously lost because we didn't have you, that just means we were so embarrassing losing was a mercy, really."

Sayo looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in years. Three years of sharing a homeroom and an extracurricular club with Nakamori and she was no closer to figuring her out. Or, to be more precise, in her first two years classmates and club mates hadn't merited her concern, and in her last year she'd opted to prioritize Roselia over kyuudo (for all it was worth). Sayo didn't regret her choice — couldn't regret choosing the guitar over anything else — but the same feeling that had driven her to the kyuudo range this morning resurfaced. It wasn't quite regret, just the realization of a good thing coming to an end while she wasn't looking at it.

"Is that something a captain should be saying, Nakamori-san?" she said with studied humour. The sort of thing Hina would say, except with more self-consciousness than Hina would ever muster. After all at another occasion Sayo had expressed Nakamori's sentiment with all the bombast and arrogance she'd thought Roselia had needed. They had stood the test of time and failed. Sayo had broken her promise. Embarrassing was putting it lightly, but the more pressing question was if they — that was, Sayo — still had a right to continue.

Nakamori, oblivious to Sayo's internal turmoil, rubbed her chin thoughtfully and answered. "Probably not, but we're here to search for the truth, aren't we? That's the kyuudo captain talking. I guess we could talk about other things but I know you don't like pointless chatter, Hikawa. Ah, that's right, what brought you here at ass o' clock in the morning? You know last week was our club's official last meeting."

All club activities were to cease following this week so as not to distract the third year students from their studies. Which was precisely the reason Sayo had come. "This would be the last time I can practice kyuudo for the foreseeable future," she answered. There would be no kyuudo in America, and in Japan there would be no time.

Nakamori stared back, then nodded. Sayo wondered what she'd seen. "Right? Our youth, waiting for a spring to start."

Sayo shot half a dozen more arrows after that. She was no closer to coming to an answer. Before long she had to put away her bow and uniform and put on the disciplinary officer armband.


It had seemed straightforward. There was a target she needed to reach with her arrows. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. There was only one trajectory her arrows could fly.

The target was the Future World FES. That was the simple part. Whether she had any arrows to shoot with was the question. Though she had no intention to walk back on her declaration, it was undeniable she had made it under duress, under the influence of spite. Such decisions tended to look different in calmer times, with a cool head, when she had no one else to disrupt her rumination.

And the truth was this: Sayo wouldn't have aimed for the Future World FES had she been by her lonesome. She would have carried on with the guitar. Spite would have taken her down a different path — across genre, over the ocean. But on that day she had been facing Shirokane and Udagawa, the people that Minato and Imai had abandoned, forlorn and looking at Sayo as though she was their last hope. Unconciously, she thought — no one sober would have hung their hopes on Sayo. She couldn't leave them stranded.

So she had given them all a week to think. Several days into the week, Sayo had neither touched the guitar nor given the topic much thought. Busy with exams, she had said. It was a good excuse.

A few days into the week, a phone call came. Sayo took a look at the caller ID, and only ingrained habits made her pick her phone and answered. "Hikawa Sayo speaking. But not much longer, seeing as you don't want to talk to me, Imai-san."

There was a beat of silence as Sayo had apparently caught her off guard. "… But I'm calling you right now. Listen — "

"If you mean to persuade me to reconcile with Minato-san, save your breath. If you mean to check on me, well, you may disconnect in relief now."

She had risen to her feet at some point and started pacing around her room. If she strained, in one ear she could hear Hina humming a tooth-rotting tune from her own room. In another, the sound of breath escaping through gritted teeth. Veins thumping deafeningly in both ears.

"I wasn't going to," Lisa said cautiously. "And if I was only worried I could've asked Hina. Sayo, I really do want to talk to you, just once — "

"I find that doubtful. You're jealous of me. There's nothing we can possibly talk about."

Ah, she was lashing out again, raising her voice without thinking. She was angry, at Imai, yes, but also Minato and Sayo herself, concentrated on a convenient target. If you're just taking your anger out on me… "We're done here," Sayo said, feeling more hollow than her voice sounded to her own ears.

She ended the call despite protests from the other end. And even then Sayo wasn't allowed space to wallow in despair. Glaring at Hina, she said, "How long have you been eavesdropping?"

"Just now?" Hina said, knuckles still poised to knock on the open door. Since it was her own negligence, Sayo let the matter drop, until Hina brought it up again. "Was that Lisa-chi? I wasn't listening! But you don't get calls from anyone else, ever."

While normally it wouldn't have bothered her, the completely matter of fact way Hina stated it twisted remorse deeper inside her. As if sensing this, Hina slipped inside and sat on Sayo's chair, chin propped on the head stand. "I knew it, you're fighting again. Is this about Lisa-chi being jealous over Yukina-chan?"

"How did you… Am I the only one who didn't know?" She almost didn't care that she was sulking. So Hina had known. Minato had made several pointed comments that in hindsight made it obvious she'd been laughing at Sayo. And if Minato had known, why not Shirokane or Udagawa, even bloody Shirasagi Chisato. Only Sayo had been too dense to notice, yet had the gall to admonish Minato.

Hina tilted her head from side to side. Blithely saying, "We-ell, Lisa-chi probably did her best to hide it from you. But is it really a big deal? I mean, I sometimes look at you and Yukina-chan be swish and click and I'd think, wow it'd sure be nice to be her right now. But then I wouldn't be me, and you'd have one less friend."

Sayo stared at Hina's smug — no, proud expression. The old feeling returned, the subject of the discussion surging up as though hearing its name called. "That's… different," Sayo managed. Far from Hina's glib pride, she had found only hatred as suffocating as it was comforting. Hina had always been better: in talents, in dealing with people, something Sayo had secretly thought of as her edge over Hina. In everything Hina shone brighter and better. Occasionally it was painful to be in her presence. Far more comfortable for her to remain in darkness.

For Imai it must have been thus. Co-existence in Roselia had been too painful — it must have been a relief to her to quit. Seen in that light, Roselia's current predicament was ultimately Sayo's fault. It wasn't fair — Sayo hadn't done anything wrong, had tried to do everything in her power to help. She even had the relevant experience. Imai knew her struggles better than most, and yet she had chosen to keep her troubles to herself while pretending she had bared everything to Sayo.

Imai-san, you fucking hypocrite. And she, Sayo, was an oathbreaker and a traitor.

Hina was waving before her eyes. Sayo batted her hand away. "Ooh, so grumpy, Onee-chan, what did Lisa-chi do?"

"Nothing," she spat after some deliberation. The truth was the truth whether she liked it or not, and she was accomplishing nothing stewing in rage. With some effort she pulled herself together and looked at her sister. "Hina… what did you think when I… when you knew I was jealous of you?"

One year ago it would've been unthinkable. Hina casually sitting on her desk, Sayo seeking counsel from Hina about a mutual… friend.

"Like the psssh because I caused you pain without noticing, or the eureka because I finally knew what's been getting your goat?"

Sayo frowned, forgoing chiding Hina's unclear choice of words just this once. Sadness and relief, she surmised, but not anger. "But you were not angry or disgusted."

"Naaah. You're my twin! My super kind and indulgent older sister (though Chisato-chan said too indulgent). You didn't want me to stop playing the guitar! So I knew the jealousy thing isn't the only thing you're made of. But maybe that's why you're incredibly pissed off at Lisa-chi. And Yukina-chan, too."

Mother came home then, and Hina bounded downstairs, leaving Sayo to ponder listlessly. She understood not a single part of it; she grew irritated the more she tried.


On Saturday Sayo took her last university entrance exam. The sky was clear, the wind chilly. Sayo huddled into her jacket, passing by a couple of girls wearing Haneoka uniform heading to the same direction. She was reminded that, for the first time, though she had said nothing on the subject, Hina wouldn't be attempting to follow her into school, whichever it would be.

Then one of the girls called her name. Sayo slowed her stride until the shorter girl caught up. "Minato-san," she greeted back.

"I didn't think you'd show up. There's no more need to take this exam, is there."

"I was already registered. What's the matter, Minato-san, afraid of one more competition?"

Minato snorted. "I see how it is. What makes you think we're of a level?"

"I always aim higher. So do you."

The rest of the walk went by silently. On arrival, the first order of business was finding the sitting arrangements, and once that was settled there was still some time to kill. Somehow Sayo found herself standing beside Minato once again, a shoulder's width apart. Minato had made herself even smaller, only her eyes were visible above her scarf.

If it was Imai-san… Someone had to make the first move. That it should be Sayo was… not as much of a grievance as it would have been last week. Time did make problems look smaller, sometimes. "Nice scarf," Sayo said awkwardly.

"Thank you." Minato adjusted the thick layer of wool to better display the black cat embroidery. "Lisa made it for my birthday — because my old one was fraying. Even though it must have taken time," she grumbled the last. A little wonder, a little guilt, a cocktail Sayo was used to hearing coming from herself.

The most recent birthday, while they supposedly had not been talking to each other? The previous one, in Roselia's first year? But it wasn't her business, she told herself. Their irritating dance around Sayo, however, was. "Imai-san cares too much for everyone but herself, thus ensuring she'd trouble everyone when she falls."

Minato looked at her, head tilted. "I'm not sure I want to hear that from someone who managed to piss her off." As Sayo stared, she smirked and elaborated, "We do live next to each other, sit in the same classroom day after day."

Oh, right, Imai had retrieved her guitar from Minato's room. Sayo said, "Somehow I'm not convinced you have the higher ground, Minato-san."

Minato snorted, adjusting the scarf to cover her mouth. "This is really quite inane, Sayo. Were you always like this outside of music?"

Of course it was inane, Sayo thought, playing a game of chicken was never not inane, and layering Roselia on top of their interpersonal issues was no exception. Though Minato hadn't sounded critical, merely curious. Almost as if she was unfamiliar with the concept of small talk. Which also described Sayo, so she answered the question as given. "Hina and I used to talk like this, to pass the time. It kept her… manageable."

"Yes, I think I can see that. And as you are twins you'd have known quite nearly everything about each other already, which left this kind of inane banter. Surprised I'm not hopelessly ignorant?"

Sayo wiped the surprise off her face. "My apologies, it's easy to mistake for willfully ignorant."

Minato's nose flared. "I take that this insolence is proof you are indeed Hina's twin."

"That's what she said. Imai-san," Sayo said dryly, then more seriously, "you should visit a dog cafe with her."

Minato glared at her, as though expecting Sayo to tell her it was a joke. But Minato, at least, had always taken Sayo at her words. "Sayo, I'm not asking you out. And assuming that Lisa would hang out with me, she'd never had problems with cat cafes."

"It would show that the subject of interest doesn't matter, it's the company and the time spent together that are valuable to you. Aren't they? A shopping trip might be even better, but it's not terribly conducive to talking, and I'd fear for your sanity."

Minato chewed her lip, then conscious of Sayo's gaze, stopped. "Is Lisa allergic to cats… or does she actually prefer dogs? All this time?" she asked plaintively. It was almost cute. It reminded Sayo of Hina's crestfallen look under the autumn rain, poleaxed and frantically trying to reconcile her idea with reality.

"I think she tolerates whichever shed less hair." Actually, Imai had never expressed a preference (Sayo suspected neither, or worse) but she couldn't resist tweaking Minato's nose a little. Get her to pay more attention.

Minato frowned. Pondering Sayo's cryptic remark as though it was a sage advice. Sayo let her brood peacefully, watching instead a group of boys pushing and making a nuisance of themselves. Their uniform was familiar — an all-boys high school Maruyama had pointed out at another time. What novelty, Sayo thought, made possible by attending a university. Any university she would choose, any path taken after graduation would lead to new possibilities. A new horizon was in sight regardless — the choice was to soar higher, or keep close to the ground where she could see it.

An idea struck her. "Minato-san, how would you like a wager? If you passed this exam, I'd treat you to a cat cafe of your choosing, for any length of time."

Minato looked up, a dangerous glimmer in her eyes that made Sayo regret her last condition. "A challenge, I see. You do like that sort of thing."

"All for the sake of becoming our best selves."

"Indeed. It's why I liked you."

A strong breeze blew suddenly. Minato wrapped the scarf tighter around her precious throat. Around them the other students perked up, becoming still and silent in a blink. It was the quiet before a battle.

Standing tall and staring down on Sayo despite their height difference, Minato said, "Very well. Challenge accepted. Better start saving now, Sayo."


Later at night, a notification flashed on her phone that had her wonder if human nature could change — if people could change of their own volition, without the crucible of extenuating circumstances. It was a very brief thought soon extinguished on reading the message. The form of it changed, but the pettiness stayed the same.

Minato Yukina: In the interest of fairness, here's a challenge: write a song with Lisa. Not Roselia, just you and her.

Hikawa Sayo: And should I fail?

Minato Yukina: Giving up already, Sayo?

Hikawa Sayo: Hardly, but it cannot be a proper challenge with neither a penalty or a reward.

Minato Yukina: But where's the fun in knowing things in advance?


Note: Chapter title is taken from Red Fraction. Thanks to la_comtesse for alpha-reading.