"What is your name?"
"I am Nozomi Tojo."
She lifted her vein riddled hand and waved it stiffly toward the camera, as if the air itself pushed her back. The bright smile of a wide eyed school girl shaved sixty years off her face. In an instant, it fell, and the wrinkles descended like vultures picking a carcass. She sat straight on her sunken couch, ever patient. Her hair could no longer drape her lap as a grey bob cut. The interviewer crudely passed his fingers through his hair. His nervous sweat smoothed the loose strands as he coolly flipped through his notepad with a trembling hand. His heart pounded in his throat. He looked up at her,
His breath hitched. For a moment meeting her eyes, he caught a glimpse of a youth with odd purple hair, pale untouched skin, and a calm gaze. A woman of a lifetime ago. From a memory. Her chuckling carried the amusement of a mother. It jolted his nerves to the present. Again, the graceful old woman stuffed in a patterned robe and shawl emerged.
"There's no reason to feel shy. I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable."
"N-Not at all miss, it is an honor to speak with you! Thank you for agreeing to see us."
He cleared his throat and recited his line by heart.
"Following your retirement and the disbandment of Muse, your group has continued to impact generations of idols since, despite several decades. What are your thoughts on such a persisting legacy?"
"At the time when we made music, it was always my wish to affect multitudes of strangers on a personal level. As long as I could accomplish the affection of the masses with my friends, anything felt possible."
She put a hand on her chest, her smile was warm.
"It touches me deeply to have witnessed so many others follow our footsteps. Whether it was to imitate or for their own passions, I'm certain they felt the same joy we knew. The joy of working with one's friends and making memories."
The cameraman zoomed in and centered her to frame. The lens purred. Without hesitation, the interviewer continued. Her hands returned to crossing on her lap.
"Have you ever considered a return to the stage in response to the requests of your fans?"
"I won't deny a few passing fancies to relive the past. But I've since accepted it as just that, the past."
As she spoke a spotlight shone on the stage of her conscious. From the shimmering surface of her lake of memories burst undefined figures. The roar of cheering nearly drowned the booming of catchy music behind them. One by one the blank figures were filled in by color, hair, and skin. They manifested the faces of friends long lost at the peak of their prime. The specters danced, parading their precise, graceful dips and turns. A dim yet familiar warmth swelled and blazed in her chest. For an instant youth returned to her veins by the buzzing of her blood. She closed her eyes, leaned back her head, and smiled. Wistfulness seeped into her words.
"Oh but what a beautiful life it was."
"Were there ever any tensions within the group?"
"Certainly, our beginning was rather rough. Much of the trouble came in rounding up members, and later I heard there'd been a spat in selecting a leader. We all know the end result now, but back then it was dire. There were even doubts about our ability to form Muse. I always had my faith, however. I suppose the only other difficulty was our decision to disband."
"And what of the allegations of a relationship between yourself and group member Eli Ayase? Did they play a role in the disbandment?"
She stiffened. Her voice was firm.
"No, never. It was our choice as Third Years to leave and pursue personal careers beyond high school. After that, the others followed out of refusal to continue without us."
With jittery hands she reached toward her coffee table. A cup of steaming green tea sat on a porcelain saucer. As she picked it up, her grip loosened and her face widened in alarm. The interviewer rushed to push the cup toward her before it fell. He smiled in a neighborly way. She returned the gesture.
"Thank you."
"Do you often manage alone?"
"Thankfully not, my dear daughter comes around often to keep company. Whenever it wouldn't stress her, that is. She recently passed sixty this year. I could credit much of my contentment to her kindness. Occasionally she brings my granddaughters along too."
"Truly she is a model for many! My sons have no time to visit in between work. It must be a great feeling to have sat grandchildren on your lap."
"Those days are long gone. The girls are thirty nine now. They grew like bamboo shoots. Perhaps it was all the energy they were born with as twins."
She took a sip and chuckled to herself.
"Elicchi and I would've certainly had our hands full if we'd raised twins."
Tears slid down her face; she held the cup in her lap. Her shoulders quivered, and a droplet fell discreetly into her tea. She returned it to the table. With trembling hands she touched her cheek. The interviewer stiffened, his eyes widened. He leaned forward a little, at once curious but afraid.
"Ms. Tojo are you alrigh-"
"I'm sorry, truly I am. Even saying her name these days makes something come over me."
"Ms. Tojo, if you'd like we can stop filming for a moment, or even the day. There's always tomorrow."
"No…No, I…"
She wiped off her tears. A smile filled with joy and tinged by longing stretched on her lips.
"I want to remember."
She told him of her first training, of her first live bathed in sweat and applause. She spoke of Honoka's proposal for an Idol Club, her rejection, her second attempt and her resolution. The passionate defiance in Honoka's eyes still seared her brain with it's heat, with the image of Niko's reflection. She recited the lines to Maki's song at her graduation and lit up recalling America afterwards. Her hands moved and gestured as if they were not a day older than seventeen.
Her words painted a canvas as the film kept rolling. There came the laughter of joy at her first job, and despair dropping out of college. Slowly she reminisced the awkward shift when Eli finally shared her bed, their home. How it melted to tenderness and normalcy. In between came job training, her first house sold, her first break into company founding, the tears she cried when they traded the apartment for a mansion- the mortgage for cleared fees.
The sunlight through the windows faded to sunset. A maidservant cleared the last empty tea cup from the table. She laid wrapped in a blanket on the couch; her eyes were closed peacefully in sleep. The interviewer gathered his stack of notebooks that spilled a life in full. He tucked them under an arm and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. Beside him, cameramen retrieved their equipment with efficiency. He bowed to the maid as she led them to the front door.
Just as he stood at the room's edge, he glanced toward Nozomi and smiled. It wasn't long until the crew were herded outside. At the sound of the door closing she jolted awake. Her eyes found the returning maidservant who bowed kindly. They were both ancient enough to spin tales until the world ended. In this regard they silently saw one another as equal, no matter their past accolades. She put on no airs when she said,
"I think I'll wander among the garden a while."
"I shall do the dishes in the meantime."
"You're very kind."
She watched her go before setting aside the cover and standing. There were still some things she'd manage herself.
The dusk air was somewhat chill for mid July. She pulled her clothes tighter around herself. The path had grown winding with gentians, hydrangeas, azaleas, lilies, and the watchful sunflowers. Her feet strode along without wandering in a way only experience wrought. With her fingers she caressed the flower petals like friends. The rich floral scent pouring around her formed a veil that stirred her memory.
It carried her to the days her daughter played on the ground her feet tread. Like some specter returned to familiar haunts she could hear her laughter peel back the decades. Eli's voice quickly followed innocently 'Do you think these earrings match the lilies?' 'It reminds me of being a girl again.' 'Walking here always calms me.'
Tears pricked her eyes once more, a weight tugged at her heart. The echoes of her friends from years gone blended into a cacophony.
'Nozomi sure knows a lot.' 'You can be a headache, but…thank you.' 'One, two, three, four-pick up your feet Nozomi!' 'I love you.' 'We could only do this because of you-'
She covered her quivering mouth and caught the tears cascading down her face. She moved forward one step, then two. Reaching out an arm her fingers slid against the sunflowers. Her knees hit the paving stones. A stab of pain jolted up her legs. She rolled onto her side, her teeth clenched, her eyes squeezed shut. A dry laugh fell from her the way a door creaks as she saw the sky. Dusk began to set; the clouds swirled into each other. On her back sighed and listened, absorbing the stillness of encroaching night. The pain became a tingle.
It was then they came. The voices leapt from the winding halls of her memory into galloping specters once more. Their faces were conjured as immortal youths holding fast to their prime for the gift it was. The gift it had been and the gift it remained. They needed no introductions, for she knew their names easier than her own. A smile took hold of her.
"Hello."
They waved and laughed without sound, examining her with wonder. Their feet never touched ground but hovered. In another life she'd have watched spellbound as if beholding that which shouldn't be. Now she fought a snort to find it was indeed as expected. Her eyes darted around, counting. One, two, three, four-
Then she found her.
It hit like a truck barreling down muddy roads; the way an autumn air chilled the lungs. She had remembered with painful clarity Eli's smile. She could recount it's image, but it's power commanded her name. Her words failed along with her thoughts. Eli pointed beyond Nozomi's head toward the horizon she couldn't see. She attempted it, however, and found her eyes stinging at the back of her head. Then, she saw the edge of Eli's hand reaching for her. There was no hesitation when she took it.
The others helped stand her up. Their touch was neither hot nor cold, not even warm. It was lighter than air, as inconspicuous as a whisper. What remained of the pain vanished. Soon she returned on her feet. She was led aimlessly along the path again without conversation. What remained of her tried and true rationale begged to pry. She silenced it as she absorbed the figures of her memory, pulled into a gale of joy she couldn't articulate.
Step by step she plod along until the group released her. They joined together in a parade that rose and made her crane her neck to follow. She watched them begin to line up and dance, Honoka at the lead. All broke into a routine of twisting limbs and graceful posing. Eli continued to watch her with an enamored fondness as if it were her single emotion. Her eyes grew puzzled, her breaths faster. The concert moved with purpose, quickening and lifting higher.
Anxiety seized her chest, wiggling its vines around her pounding heart. Goosebumps rose up and down her limbs while her eyes widened. Without thinking she threw out her hand.
"Wait! Wait no come back!"
She forced her stiff joints to move like cracking rust off worn gears. They were no different from dragging bleeding comrades to safety; crawling them away, if it came to that. Her legs and arms pumped even as her muscles wore to the bone. The first true sweat she'd worked in decades dripped down her face. She kept her head painfully up and found them no longer dancing. Now they smiled and sped beside her. Their bodies fluttered like falling petals, weightless. Some part of her intuition sensed this had been their goal. In the same instant, she decided it didn't matter.
Her vision grew bleary and her fingers to strain. Her ears were dimly aware of her swelling heartbeat that bordered on dangerous. It didn't matter, she thought, while the look of a desperate child darkened her.
She lunged toward them.
Eli caught her before she fell. With a gentle tug she pulled her close; their noses touched. When she looked down to secure their grip, a gasp stole her breath. The skin of her hands was smooth, the gnarled veins vanished. A new weight draped over her shoulders and down her back. She glanced to the side to find the purple hair she hadn't known since she was in her forties. Realization settled comfortably in her eyes, nestled in her grin. She squeezed Eli's hand and at last felt warmth.
"Sorry I kept you all waiting."
They found her body nestled among the violets. The dew on the petals made her skin glisten and her smile youthful. When the maid had tapped her arm, it was still warm, and remained so even at the wake. Her expression had been eager, as if embarking on adventure.
This was originally in tribute to the movie 'Millennium Actress' directed by the legendary Satoshi Kon. I didn't intend it to be an AU but a flash forward. In saying that however you can probably consider all of my LL! fanfic to be my own universe with my interpretations changing and adding to personalities and events. The movie's end credits song also was a big inspiration I can remember for this and I will link it here: watch?v=8rNUPVWPquE
I think Susumu Hirasawa's music in general has heavy Nozomi vibes, so I use it often to help get in the mindset to write her. For me personally I consider 'Niwashi King' her general character song of his work. A link for it is here: watch?v=_ZmxV1SdfDI
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I like to defer to hirasawalyrics on tumblr for translations of these songs since my Japanese isn't great. A lot of Hirasawa's music makes references to spirituality especially Buddhism, rebirth, change, memories, enlightenment, and struggle in achieving growth- all things that have Nozomi written all over them.