VIII. We are maverick

Sometimes while waiting for Imai to finish her many, many affairs and proceed to CiRCLE together for rehearsal, Sayo would look up at the austere edifice of Haneoka and thought, I could have gone here. Instead of Hina it could have been Sayo haunting these halls. She would not have been its student council president, but even with Haneoka's lax student codes — or perhaps especially because of — she would have been known as the council's mad dog, nemesis of one Imai Lisa. She would have met Minato sooner, together they'd have founded Roselia in their first year. They might have reached the Future World FES sooner than later with all their members intact. Hina would have gone to Hanajo in her stead. Would Sayo have tried to reconcile with her sooner — would she have gotten away with not at all? On the last part her wishes had changed over time.

Sayo wondered what Scherehazade was thinking. Scherehazade — here played by Shirasagi Chisato, though right now it was hard to see her as the classmate with a justifiable vendetta against Sayo — spun her future tale by tale, surviving on the edge of the murderous king's curiosity, night by night until one thousand and one nights had passed and both had quite forgotten how they had come to be together and simply be together. Or so one version of the story went. Understandably no one would watch a play that went on for one thousand and one scenes. Five seemed complicated enough, yet Haneoka's theatre club was enthusiastic, and its resident prince nothing if not inspiring.

(That's it, Sayo thought, if she had enrolled in Haneoka she'd have at least auditioned its theatre club.)

Up on the stage the Princess Scherehazade, having been wedded against her will and facing a certain divorce by the first night (when asked about this softening, Imai shrugged and said something about making the ending palatable to maiden hearts), was now imploring her new husband, Seta Kaoru in a resplendent costume. The curtain fell, and when it rose there was Seta dressed as a beggar in a backalley. Come what story, what setting, and characters involved, Seta always stood at the center. The treacherous king was also a clever beggar, a greedy sailor, a valiant but doomed knight, and finally — in a scene that transitioned seamlessly back to the framing story with Princess Scherezade — a devout husband in the king's glittering crown and a commoner's garb. The play ended with the king — or possibly the poor husband — declaring to never cast aside his wife.

As the cast gathered for one last bow and the audience erupted into applause, Sayo wondered what the Princess Scherehazade would have chosen without the threat of divorce or death hanging over her head. She felt a pang of wistful empathy for an imaginary person portrayed by Shirasagi Chisato. By chance her gaze met Minato's while rising from the bow. Minato looked down on her from the upper seating area, and Sayo abandoned all thoughts. It was foolish to wonder about what-ifs. Sayo had chosen her route in life, the Princess Scherehazade was forced into hers, but they both made the best of it in order that she would never again look back and wonder if there was ever another choice.


Between cleaning up and fending off over-awed members of the audience and new fans and Seta's overbearing invitation to an after-party, Sayo almost missed Imai leaving the school. She caught up to her at the entrance gate. On noticing Sayo hurrying over, Imai clapped her shoulder so much it hurt. It seemed they were both still strung high from the performance.

"I saw Minato-san in the audience," Sayo said. What it was supposed to explain she couldn't grasp just yet.

As she was about to apologize for the nonsense, Imai said, "I guess she must have found out you were in the gig somehow. Anyway, aren't you going with Kaoru and the others?"

"I saw you left." And, come to think about it, Sayo hadn't seen Shirasagi since the curtain call either.

As she hesitated whether it was relevant at all, Imai said, "Ahaha, it's actually kind of silly. See, tomorrow's Valentine's Day but between exams and the play I haven't got to making any chocolates. And it's my last year at Haneoka so I kind of have to make them."

"I'll help," Sayo said immediately. It was the very topic she'd wanted to broach after all, and she had an explanation ready in case Imai was feeling dubious, which she seemed to be. "It's not completely altruistic on my part. I can't make chocolates at home because Hina's commandeering our kitchen with Wakamiya-san and Hazawa-san."

"Oho, that sounds like a fun combo… if your kitchen can take it… But who's the lucky person?"

"Roselia will perform this weekend, and as sweets seem to improve practice efficiency…" It occurred to her that she might've been asking about Hina's intended. "Ah…"

Or maybe not. Imai clapped her hands, beaming. "Not a moment's rest for you, Sayo. Does that mean you've found a vocalist? What's she like — ah, haha, I just went and assumed Roselia is still an all-girl band."

"That it could be otherwise… has never crossed my mind. But yes, Wakana-san is only a year younger than us, but she is very much skilled in both singing and playing the bass." Imai seemed completely unfazed by the idea of Sayo replacing Minato and herself. Heartened, she said, "Should you have the time, Imai-san, I'm sure Udagawa-san and Shirokane-san would appreciate your support."

Imai's smile turned apologetic. "I'd love to, but I've got shift this weekend and it'd be annoying to everyone if I tried to change at the last minute. Tell them I'm sorry."

Ah, yes, the irreplaceable shift which always coincided with Roselia's regularly scheduled shows. But Imai had no excuse for the chocolates, and so Sayo once again darkened the Imai household. It felt as natural as a habit — once upon a time it had become something of a habit. Observing and following Imai's direction, chattering about trivial and not-so-trivial everyday things. Hina, Seta and Shirasagi's play, Seta and Shirasagi themselves, the latest articles in the music magazines Sayo was subscribed to.

All of that, and somehow Sayo still didn't know if Imai got into her first choice — or which subject. At least when Imai had never so much as alluded to America it was because she hadn't forgiven Sayo yet. And Sayo, who would only come around if it was related to Roselia, what was her excuse?

"Sayo? What's wrong?"

She'd paused in the middle of drying the mixer, staring at the refrigerator where batches and batches of chocolates sat cooling down. "It's nothing. Are we done here?"

"Yeah, sure, I can take care of the rest. Go on up without me."

Sayo fled the kitchen before Imai finished speaking. Imai's room, containing her guitar and bag, was where it had always been. Very little of it had changed but for the scent that hit her nostrils on entering, more floral than sweet. Sayo's memories were indelibly stained with sweets, but this new scent was familiar, as recent as this afternoon at Haneoka. One of Hina's aroma oils, she thought, one of those with an incongruent names. What was it. White heron? Or maybe she'd listened to Hina chatter about Shirasagi one too many time. Then Sayo caught sight of the corkboard and abandoned her mental search.

Gone were the university pamphletes. In their place were photographs: the old Roselia including Imai herself, other people Sayo didn't know, a candid shot of Minato flustered and Shirasagi falsely cherubic, a dark shot of what seemed to be Roselia on stage. Judging by the outfits, it had to be one of their last performances before Minato had taken a hiatus. Sayo's eyes lingered on the last. Below it was pinned a silver bracelet bearing the Raise A Suilen logo. Imai returned while Sayo was inspecting the bracelet, searching for… something. A proof of Minato's hand in designing such a gaudy but useless memorabilia.

"They were handing that thing to everyone in the audience," Imai said from behind her shoulder, poking Sayo in the ribs. "You'd have one too, you know, if you'd come with me."

"As I have explained, there is no need for me to know of Minato-san's new sound. Minato-san and I are simply using this competition as a stepping stone toward the pinnacle. My path neither begins nor ends with defeating her."

Imai's cheeks ballooned and deflated wordlessly. Overall they were getting better at not taking disagreements personally even when the issues were personal in nature. Give or take a few literal ribbing. "Well, that's what Yukina said, more or less. Oh, I guess you didn't want to know about that too."

"And what did Shirasagi-san think about it?" Sayo smirked as Imai dropped her attack in surprise. "Hina tried to invite her to an outing happening at the same time, though Shirasagi-san wouldn't say why she was unavailable. I made a guess, your face just now confirms it."

"Someday you and I are gonna have that talk about not giving a people heart attack. Anyway, why are you asking me Chisato's opinion?"

Holding up a hand to block another attack, Sayo said, "You'd enjoy enka if it was Minato-san singing it." Sayo didn't remember what had her poking for all the ways Imai Lisa was a traditional Japanese grandma until she found the one where she wasn't.

"Yeah, yeah, Yukina's biggest fan, that's me…" Imai trailed off, mouth pinched. Sayo hesitated, then deciding a retaliation was to be expected, gingerly prodded her shoulder. "Oh, right. We got to see them backstage for the afterparty, and also a bit of their rehearsal session. Chisato said it looks funny but nothing, uh, nefarious was her word. Chuchu doesn't even register as a blip on the scale of too rich kids of too rich and too absent parents. Nothing to worry about."

"I could have told you. I did tell you that," said Sayo archly.

"Like, normally I do trust you, but if Yukina told you to jump you'd ask how high before launching her and yourself into space. And the other way around, actually, Yukina could only pick the moon because you wouldn't accept anything lower." From zero to bitter in no time, she might have as well blamed Sayo for corrupting precious, innocent Yukina.

Sayo fought hard to keep her temper in check. She only half succeeded. "And maybe if you hadn't been overbearing Minato-san wouldn't have been so eager to be estranged from you."

Bullseye. Imai slumped face down on the table so that all Sayo could see was her mane. She could barely make out her grumbling. "I knooow. She must've regretted inviting me, no, she's definitely regretting talking to me again."

"I wouldn't go that far. You're only occasionally annoying."

Though she might as well have been talking to the dog plush by her foot. Still burying her head, Imai continued whining quite not unlike a child refusing to take a nap. "I can't not worry. I mean, I know I've pretty much disqualified myself from being there for her, but I still want to. Even though Yukina doesn't need me… to be honest, she's never needed me. And soon you're going to America. Even Chisato… everyone's changing and growing up and I'm the only one who isn't."

Hina's words came back to her. Jealousy wasn't the only thing Imai was made of — greater was the compassion that overflowed into an excess of worry and misplaced guilt. But the lion's share belonged to the low self-esteem, she thought. This hypocrite who'd rather Sayo laugh at her than sympathize. Still, it was more uncharacteristic behavior than Sayo had normally been allowed to see without digging, and Sayo wasn't that much of a boor to ignore her guilt that she might have hit a sore spot. She certainly didn't mean to make her cry.

Sayo sat by her side, and after some deliberation placed a hand on her bare shoulder. It felt cold to the touch. "I think you have changed, although you're free to disbelieve me. It doesn't happen overnight, and you yourself won't notice it happening. Especially if it's merely an aspect of yourself formerly unseen, slowly being brought to the fore with each choice until it's all everyone can see."

"You've thought a lot about this. A new aspect, huh?" repeated Imai as though testing the words. A hint of grey peeked through the curtain of artifical brown. Without thinking Sayo tucked the handful obscuring Imai's eye behind her ear. Relieved to find no sign of tears, Sayo continued.

"If you'd like to see it that way. In some other ways it is a mask, and I am performing. I am pretending to be what I am not yet, in the hopes that someday it will be becoming of me." Now it was her turn to speak incoherently. Clearing her throat, she mumbled, "I think of what you would do. Occasionally. When it seems appropriate to be kind."

As embarrassed as she felt, it was also vexing that Imai seemed to have stopped listening. Her gaze had turned inward, and her frown deepened. It must have been too bold coming from someone she hadn't forgiven. Sayo thought to apologize, but abruptly Imai raised her head, grinning. Back to her usual self, or pretending to be, at least.

"Geez, you really know how to flatter a girl. Ever thought of trying to write lyrics?"

"It wasn't flattery," Sayo said, more sulky than she'd have liked.

Imai laughed. "I'm just teasing. I know you're a natural sweetheart. Thank you, Sayo. Now c'mere."

She held her arms wide — palms, really, if Sayo was thinking straight. Riding on a wave of exasperation, Sayo crashed forehead against forehead, then sprang to escape like a criminal, striking the table with her right knee, and limped to the farthest corner from Imai, desperately willing the dizziness to go away. The only thing stopping her from jumping off the verandah was Minato's presence in the room across.

She heard the rustle of Imai sitting up. "Okay… no high five for Sayo, just hugs… Are you okay? It sounded like you hit something."

Her knee and forehead were still throbbing red hot pain. "It's nothing," Sayo mumbled. She fumbled with shaky hands, mustering the courage to come back to the table with her books. Not enough to look at Imai in the eye, however, or apologize and thereby clarifying her intent. "Um, Imai-san, are you… all right?"

"Oh, sure, I'm fine. I'm pretty used to Hina," said Imai briskly while nursing her forehead. In other words she wasn't. "Wasn't expecting you to also — "

"I'm not! Like Hina. I… slipped. Lost my balance. Sorry."

Imai mostly succeeded in biting back her giggle. "Do you want to re—"

"Nothing, I want nothing, we've lost enough time as it is."

They were supposed to be studying. That had been the deal. Mercifully, Imai dropped the subject and followed her lead. Sayo assumed Imai was studying — her notebook was completely obscured from Sayo's view, and she kept making faces while working. By the time Sayo had to leave the awkwardness had faded enough that Sayo could, feigning nonchalance, dip into her bag and pulled out a pouch. Made together with Hina last night, Sayo hoped the cookies were still fresh beyond reproach. In any case, Imai only stared.

"For you," Sayo explained unnecessarily as embarrassment started creeping again. They were standing on the open street. At any moment someone, Minato, her other nosy neighbors, could look outside their windows and wondered. "It's early, but I might not see you tomorrow, and I can't trust Hina not to mislay it."

Imai took the pouch in a slow, mechanical motion. Unbidden, Sayo thought of Minato's lyrics (for it was obvious whom had inspired Roselia's brightest song yet). A drop of sunlight, a creature of the day. Looking at her right now Sayo could only think of the narrow shadows barely eking out an existence at noon. It might be a trick of the fast fading winter daylight, but if it was Sayo's doing, what was another blunder? she thought glumly.

A blink, and Imai had painted on her customary cheer. "Well, uh, yours is in the bag. You'll find one extra, it's hard to miss… Hey, your contest with Yukina is next month, isn't it?"

Sayo nodded, rattling off a date. As it happened, Imai would be travelling around that time. Thinking of shadows, Sayo added, "You need not to worry about Minato-san. We do not seek to crush each other utterly. What matters is that we both reach greater heights."

"I'm not worried—well, not about that. Just, can you promise me something?" Thinking that it would still have to do with Minato, Sayo nodded. "Promise you'd tell me the results right away. Yukina wouldn't tell me and she'd pretend Google and social media aren't a thing. But I want to hear it from you, Sayo. All right?"

Imai seemed serious. Sayo couldn't but respond with earnest. "Of course." As if she needed another reason to not lose.


The spotlights were blinding. The audience's gaze was palpable. Expectations, doubts, or plain curiosity, tonight Roselia would answer them all. Tonight, exactly one month after Roselia had announced their hiatus, they made their monthly show at CiRCLE as though nothing had changed. With one exception, of course. Sayo looked at her bandmates — hers now, no doubt about it with the way they waited on her for signal. So Sayo took the microphone from Wakana and introduced her, Roselia's new vocalist and bassist. And with that out of the way, she signalled Udagawa to begin the count.

Wakana's voice was powerful. So Sayo had thought while listening to her and Hanazono busking, and stronger throughout rehearsals with Udagawa and Shirokane in the small studio. All impressions were blown off the water on the stage. From the first line she captivated the audience, effortlessly pulling along the other instruments with her voice as though she'd always belonged at the reins. Quite like Minato in that way. And yet for better or worse she wasn't Minato. All too soon the moment was over. The audience erupted into applause and cheer, less than there had been for Minato with fewer numbers attending to begin with. Sayo never was one to put too much stock in what other people made of her music, but she allowed herself to feel comfort, even satisfaction basking in the ovation. It wasn't perfect, but for the moment Roselia was back in the game.


"Huh? Yukina-san's going to turn up at the Over The Future festival too?" Udagawa parroted while munching on her chocolates. Sayo chided her, and Udagawa groaned in apology, and Wakana and Shirokane laughed at their expense.

It was Wakana who answered her question. "Yukina-san must be very good. I can tell what big shoes I'm trying to fill."

"You were amazing too, Rei-yan! You were all boom! bang!" Udagawa nearly kicked herself out of her seat as she posed. Not for the first time Sayo wondered if it was all right to feed an already hyperenergetic girl more sugar.

Shirokane said, "Hikawa-san, when you said Yukina-san is going to… participate…"

"Minato-san will also compete against us."

"As in Roselia… or just you?"

Rinko didn't flinch away from Sayo's steady gaze. The student council presidentship truly had done well by her. "I am Roselia's guitarist. That's all that matters. Now, I'm telling you this so that you know what will face us. Of course, our goal is not to defeat Minato-san and her new band, but if it is what it takes to reach the Future World FES, then so we must."

For a while everyone was silent, nibbling on chocolates and collecting their thoughts. Cookies for yesterday's rehearsal on Valentine's Day, and chocolates for today's post-live review meeting. The cookies were Sayo's own; the chocolates had Imai's seal of approval. It seemed appropriate to give the better stuff as a reward for a job well done. As promised Sayo found the pouch meant for her mixed with the others. She felt reluctant to eat the dog-shaped pieces, but live performance always seemed to whet her appetite anyway. Sayo took one and bit down on the satisfying blend of sweetness and bitterness.

Finally Wakana broke the silence. "Even though you said victory over Yukina-san is not our aim, I personally am looking forward to go head to head with her."

Inviting Wakana to join Roselia had been a simple affair despite their lack of financial incentive. More than money, Wakana desired a chance to showcase her voice, temping as a bassist only for the sake of looking for a door to put her foot in. It was the kind of ambition that would be at home in Roselia, and so Sayo had given her a chance. So far she had been rewarded for it. As she said so, Wakana demurred, "It's only because you are inspirational, Sayo-senpai… Ah, Hana-chan."

She excused herself to take Hanazono's call. Sayo mulled it over. Minato was inspirational, surely, but not Sayo, loyal hound and henchwoman to…

"Of course Sayo-san is inspirational!" Udagawa, piping out of the blue. "You kept going even when everyone's abandoned us. Because of that… we'll show Yukina-san. That's it, that's my motivation for the contest, I'm gonna show Yukina-san we can do it. We're not nothing without her — we're still just as good!"

"Just as good, Udagawa-san? Then you've already lost." Udagawa made a strangled noise. Shirokane patted her shoulder. "Minato-san does not allow herself to be satisfied with merely being just as good."

"But…"

"I understand. I too am grateful to Minato-san for many things, as I also cherish the Roselia that was. Without it I wouldn't be here. But at some point it all must end. You might blame me for bringing that end sooner than later. All the same if you wish for Roselia to continue we must go farther beyond our current selves. That we are no longer dependent on Minato-san — that necessarily we are better than we once were when Minato-san was with us."

Sayo left them silently digesting words and chocolates both. She fished another out of her pouch. A guitar. She wondered when Imai had made them, or slipped Sayo's portion into Roselia's bundle. No bets on what shape Minato would have received, or how many folds more. Minato wouldn't have informed her of the results of the contest, her pride wouldn't have allowed it in the event that she lost. In this manner they were similar, Sayo and Minato. And yet Imai had made Sayo promise to tell her.

Sayo wasn't so desperate as to need Imai's confidence in her. But it felt… nice. Sweet, and maybe just a little bitter. Before the meeting was over she had run out of chocolates.


Chapter title is taken from This Game. I drafted the outline long before S3 began airing, but I'm definitely not above cribbing names. Can't do anything about the timeline that both the game and the anime has denied, alas.