"And she said, 'What are you doing here?

The moment I have long since feared

Oh, I'm not the girl you left behind

She's been gone for quite some time.'"

The Reign of Kindo - "City Lights & Traffic Sounds"

Umi drummed her fingers on the countertop, the humming of her espresso machine sounding strangely musical to her at the moment. Its presence in her apartment was the result of a sleep-deprived impulse and the surplus of money that she didn't really know what to do with.

She had been working for a few months at the library, and outside of the extra food that she now found within her budget, she had yet to make any large purchases with her paychecks.

Then one afternoon at the supermarket, she saw it: a personal espresso maker. Stainless steel, it advertised high-quality brews at a reasonable price. Normally, Umi's eyes would have bulged at what they called "reasonable," but a quick glance at her wallet made her realize that it was well-within reach.

Although she drew more than one curious (or was it pitying?) glance on the train ride back to her apartment, it was well worth it after she plugged it in and thought about all the time she'd save now that she wouldn't have to make the ten-minute trek to the mediocre coffeeshop on campus every time she needed her caffeine fix. With finals only a week away, her caffeine fix had increased by the day; she needed stronger doses with increasing frequency. The espresso machine fixed both of these problems.

She watched the last few drops plink into her cerulean coffee cup, then grabbed it along with her all-in-one creamer and brought both items back to her desk. She set them down on their respective coasters and turned her attention to her computer screen.

Three papers down, one to go. If she finished this last one early, heavy revisions notwithstanding, she had almost an entire week to focus on the song. She had more than simply lyrics to consider now that Maki had given her an additional songwriting task, busy as the redhead was with finals herself.

"This isn't super important to the song or anything, but is there a reason that all of the lyrics are in English?

The question had been posed by Maki about a week prior, one morning over breakfast. She had spent the night after hearing about Umi's new espresso machine and wanted to try it out herself. This entailed heavy use of said machine well into the night. Umi had almost run out of coffee grounds and was relieved when Maki finally decided to call it a night.

"I just wanted to try something new," Umi answered. "We've also been studying a lot of Western poets in my classes, and I think English can be a very poetic language, hard as it is."

Maki nodded as she gathered some scrambled eggs on her spoon. "English or Japanese, it's fine, I just hope you're ready to sing it."

Umi chuckled nervously. "I wonder about that."

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"How confident are you in your music theory?" Maki asked.

The blue-haired girl looked up from her breakfast, mulling over her experience for a moment. "Not very. I have a guitar at home that I used when I wanted to experiment with vocal melodies, but I just played and sang by ear."

Maki raised a forkful of scrambled eggs to her mouth. "Why didn't you mention that when you were talking about musical experience?"

"I wouldn't really consider that 'playing an instrument.'"

"I would. Anyway," she continued in between chews, "that's a start. Do you want to help me write the song?" she asked with her mouth still full.

"I'm much more comfortable letting you handle it." Umi brushed aside the possibility with a wave of her hand. "Songwriting is far too intricate for me."

"It would just be the basics. Chord structures of the verses and choruses, that kind of thing."

Umi blinked. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Trust me, it's easy." Now Maki picked up her glass of orange juice and sipped it. "I was thinking about what you said last week, and how personal these lyrics are. I think if you can put something coherent together, it would definitely come across as your song. I'm still going to be in charge of the final arrangement, of course, but the final arrangement might take a completely different path depending on what the initial chords sound like."

"But what about the jazz angle you wanted to take?"

"What about it?" Maki looked at her curiously. "I want to keep it, of course."

"You think I'm qualified to write a jazz piece?" Umi asked, incredulous. Her fork dug into her fluffy scrambled eggs with a little more force than necessary.

"Like I said, it's just the basics. If we're just talking about song structure, a lot of contemporary pieces are going to follow the same formula, regardless of genre."

Umi processed this for a moment, weighing the redhead's statement against the complex and often confusing arrangements that many of the jazz pieces she'd heard recently. She picked up her orange juice absently, swirling it back and forth slightly so it wouldn't spill. It didn't give her a proper answer to Maki's proposition like she'd hoped.

"If I agreed, you would still handle the… important parts of it, right?"

Maki laughed, although it was restrained due to the eggs that she had just taken a bite of. "I don't know what you mean. Figuring out a chord structure is just as important as embellishing and tweaking those chords. You can't have the second one without the first."

"I suppose so…" Umi sighed.

"I know you can do it," Maki assured her. She smiled, and Umi wondered in the back of her mind when her junior had become this sincere. "Did you bring your guitar from home? I haven't seen it anywhere." She gave Umi's apartment a cursory once-over.

"No, I left it at home. There wasn't really any reason for me to bring it since we aren't writing songs any more." Umi gathered her eating utensils and stood up to put them in the sink, before she realized her mistake and added: "Not until this one, I mean."

"I have one in my room that I haven't used much. You can have it."

"Are you sure? I still have some extra money from my job that I can use…"

"Really, it's fine. I bought it as a substitute for the piano, but I found out I don't even have time for the guitar either." Maki scooped up the last bit of eggs on her plate and got up to join Umi at the sink. "There are also some online music lessons that I can link you to. They just teach you some easy guitar chords and how to work your way around the first few frets of the fretboard." The confusion must have been apparent on Umi's face, because Maki added hastily: "Don't worry, it'll make sense once you get started."

"That sounds like a lot of work." Umi turned on the sink and offered Maki her hand, at which her junior gave her the plate and utensils. "Are you sure it would save time for me to learn all of this and then write the song? By the time I'm done figuring out the basics, you could have finished already."

"Even if it doesn't save time, I'm just your helper, remember? I don't want to make something that's different than what you imagined." Maki walked back to the table and picked up her glass of orange juice, still half-full. "We might be able to avoid that if you have an idea of how you want it to sound. Besides," she downed a portion of her juice before continuing, "you've been a part of the songwriting process for years already. You might know more than you think."

Umi didn't respond immediately. She scrubbed her plate with a wet sponge, thinking about what she would have to sacrifice to realistically write a decent song in two weeks. She grimaced as she subsequently realized that sleep would probably be the first thing to go, as usual. Still, Maki's points were valid and, frankly, somewhat empowering. This really was her song, after all.

"Okay. I'll do it."

Maki smiled, as if she had never considered the possibility of Umi declining. "Great. When do you want me to drop off my guitar?"

Umi glanced at the Martin sitting on its stand, which Maki had also provided. Its design wasn't very distinct, cherry wood with a light tan finish (according to Maki, at least), but after playing a few chords and attempting to compare its sound with the old Yamaha she had at home, she had innocently looked up the price range of these guitars. She had promptly slammed her laptop screen shut after seeing the four-figure guitars on the Martin website and handled the delicate and expensive instrument with significantly more care afterwards. Maki hadn't even mentioned how valuable the guitar that she "lent" to Umi was, although the blue-haired girl suspected that she might not have been aware of its price herself.

Part of her wanted to buy a guitar bag for it, so that it wouldn't be sitting out and exposed to the elements of her apartment. She also wanted to buy a large, airtight vault and seal it in, but that would defeat the purpose of Maki lending her the guitar in the first place, so she had to settle with washing her hands before and after playing it.

Whether it was through her allegedly misplaced confidence or sheer luck, Maki had been right: Umi's past guitar experience carried her through the online lessons. She picked up on the open chords quickly, and knew how to hold her hand on the fretboard so that her fingers wouldn't unnecessarily block other strings. The lower action was easier on her fingers and allowed for longer playing sessions which, she hated to admit, did have the tendency to cut into her studying time.

The music theory aspect wasn't as easy for her to grasp, until help came in the form of an extremely useful text that Maki had sent her shortly after lending her the Martin:

Umi: I'm having trouble with identifying chords in the songs, and when and why they change.

Maki: hmm

Maki: do you remember when you used to count steps during practice?

Umi: Yes, what about it?

Maki: it's like that

Maki: Sometimes you only count to three, sometimes you count to six, but mostly you just count to four

Maki: i'm sure you already knew that, though

Umi: Ah. It's really that simple?

Maki: yeah

Maki: your chord changes are usually at the beginning of each measure, so each time you start over at 1

Maki: not always

Maki: but most of the time

Umi: Wow. Thank you!

To her dismay, Umi had found that jazz was one of the more difficult genres to differentiate chords. The piano (and guitar, on occasion) was often playing some ridiculous-sounding variant that she couldn't replicate on her own. She then tuned into the bassline, which proved to be no help either, due to its constant walking all over the fretboard. She had sent Maki yet another worried text on the matter, and her junior had simply responded:

Maki: listen to our old songs, a lot of them are pretty straightforward

She had been right. The only obstacle left was to combine the two, somehow. Maki's advice to stick to basic chords was rooted firmly in her mind, but at present, she only had a week before Christmas vacation to write out even the simplest of chords. It was already a miracle that she had gotten through all the lessons so quickly; now Umi would need another miracle to churn something out that she'd be satisfied with. None of this even considered the larger problem that loomed over her at the moment, of course:

"I'm seriously going to write a song during finals?" She posed the question to an empty apartment and sighed, since she already knew the answer.

On the bright side, Maki's finals stretched all the way until that Friday, while Umi's ended three days prior, that Tuesday. She had three extra days to scrape something together, before sending the redhead back home to Akihabara with her rough outline of a song in hand.

On the not-so-bright side, the deadline for Umi's final paper was less than 48 hours away, and she had already known that her Keats analysis wouldn't be completed until the last minute. It was technically due Tuesday, but she wanted Satoshi to look over it before she turned it in. He had the final say in her grade, after all. She spared one final glance at the cherry Martin before pushing it out of her field of vision and refocusing on her screen. The song could wait, but Keats couldn't.

Umi couldn't stifle her yawns during the trek to Satoshi's office. It was still well before noon, but she was already thinking about the next time that she could sleep. The three hours that she had managed to sneak in the night before weren't much of a help, as a brief glance in the mirror had confirmed the presence of dark circles under her eyes, heavy with a consistent lack of sleep.

Still, she wanted to believe that it was worth it; she had finished her radically revised analysis at approximately 5:30 that night (or was it morning?) and even snuck in a half hour of songwriting before retiring. Though her paper was written to the soundtrack of jazz (Hiromi Uehara, Thelonious Monk, and Bill Evans had particularly clicked with her that night) and with considerably more effort, Umi couldn't help but wonder if this would reflect in her final grade.

She climbed the stone steps to Satoshi's office, thankful that he was only on the second floor of the Literature Building. Another student sat on the ground next to his door, and walking closer, Umi's face lit up with recognition. Even though her face was turned away from Umi, her short black hair and matching bag, adorned with that signature μ's button, still gave her identity away.

"Hello, Marika-san." She greeted her fellow second-year, who didn't respond. Umi raised an eyebrow and called to her again. This time, the other girl stirred and turned to face Umi with a soft groan.

"Hmmm… what is it?" Marika answered groggily, one eye opening to look at Umi while she rubbed the other. "Sonoda-san? How long have I been out?"

"I don't know, I just got here."

"Did you see anyone come out of Satoshi-san's office?" Marika brought her arms over her head in a long stretch.

"No. How long have you been waiting?" Umi stepped closer to her classmate, debating whether to join Marika on the ground or not. She decided against it.

"Not sure. There was someone in there when I showed up, so I decided to sit down and wait. Guess I dozed off."

Umi sized up the concrete beneath them and the stucco that comprised the corresponding wall, mentally weighing their comfort factor. "Are you sleeping well? Finals probably aren't easy for you, either."

The other girl chuckled. "When are finals ever easy? I've been ditching club meetings for the last week or so to cram, but that might not even be enough. To answer your question, though: no, I'm not." She flashed Umi a tired grin. "It looks like you're in the same boat."

Umi's hand instinctively rose to cover her face. She rubbed at the area under her eyes with her thumb and index finger. "Yes, I suppose you're right. I was up late last night finishing my paper."

"Ooh, you always write the best papers the night before they're due." Umi couldn't tell if her classmate was joking, but she didn't get a chance to ask. "Did you end up getting help from Satoshi-san?"

"I did," Umi nodded.

"Did you take his advice? Can I see?" She stuck her hand out.

"Sure." Knowing Marika wouldn't take no for an answer, Umi took her bag off of her shoulders to search for her paper, but at that moment the door opened. A student walked out and called his thanks over his shoulder, and shortly after their T.A. stuck his head out of the door.

"Who's next? Nikaido-san, Sonoda-san?" He nodded his head at each of the girls in turn. Marika lept to her feet.

"Sorry." She glanced apologetically at Umi. "I'm sure you did great, though!"

"You can both come in, if you want. I didn't realize it would be so cold out here." Satoshi looked out across the campus, rubbing his shoulders with each arm.

It's the middle of December, though… "Um…" The blue-haired girl exchanged a glance with Marika, who shrugged. "Pardon me, then."

"Maybe you can give me feedback, too." Marika jabbed her lightly with an elbow. Umi resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I don't think I'm qualified to do so." She closed the door behind them and began to remove her windbreaker.

Whether it was due to lack of sleep, nerves, or both, Umi tuned out the discussion about Marika's paper to focus on her own. She flipped through the eight pages that she had churned out last night, and her mounting unease grew with each paragraph she scanned. They had seemed coherent, convincing even, while she was writing them, but now she fixated on each awkwardly worded sentence, each argument that could be misread as forced. There were still more than 24 hours before the final deadline, but she didn't know if she could handle another revision.

Sweat was just starting to form in tiny beads on her forehead when she heard a nearby chair clatter. She looked up to see Marika already on her feet, talking in a positive-sounding tone to their T.A. The specifics of the conversation eluded her. Umi shook her head rapidly.

"... thanks! I feel a lot better about my paper now."

"Of course, Nikaido-san. That's what I'm here for." Satoshi nodded at Umi's classmate encouragingly.

Marika caught Umi looking at her on her way out and flashed her a thumbs-up, with a grin to accompany it. "Good luck."

Umi could only respond with a quick nod of her own. Well-meaning as it was, Marika's gesture did little to quell her churning stomach. Umi remembered vaguely that she hadn't eaten since late last night.

"So, Sonoda-san. I do hope that you took my advice to heart." Satoshi sat at his desk, hands neatly folded together. Umi swallowed her unease and nodded while making her way to the chair opposite her T.A. Wordlessly she handed him her revised paper.

He started to read through it, adopting the intense glare that he usually reserved for papers as important as this one. It didn't take long for Umi to begin to fidget; his lack of immediate feedback and that stare did little to reassure her. She rubbed her hands together and stared at the floor.

"Sonoda-san." Even Satoshi's tone lacked any hints about the quality of her paper.

"Is it better?" She tried, folding and unfolding her hands in her lap. "I tried a different approach this time around."

"You certainly did! And with resounding success, I must say!" Finally, a wide and earnest smile broke out on her teaching assistant's face, as he began to scrawl in the margins of her paper. "Right now I can't read your paper extremely closely, of course, but I can already tell that your analysis is so much more impassioned and cohesive. I've seen many writers that veer off-topic or even start to ramble about hard-impact topics, but I've yet to see any of that here."

"Th-thank you," Umi managed, although she braced herself for any qualifying statements that were sure to follow. I'm here for any and all feedback, after all… "Do you have any suggestions?"

Satoshi continued to scribble on her paper before answering. "Nothing major that I can see. Just some spots where I think you can be more clear, but those aren't going to break your grade. If I may ask," he continued, smiling, "is there any particular reason that you decided to take the approach that you did? Your analysis is very… interesting, at first glance."

Umi rubbed the back of her neck self-consciously. "I guess I just felt more inspired this time around?"

He regarded her for a moment, then broke out into a chuckle. "I'll take your word for it. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their Muse, especially younger writers."

She couldn't help but smile upon hearing this; even though her teaching assistant meant something else, the word meant a lot more to her than he realized.

"I shouldn't keep you for too long now." Satoshi handed Umi her paper back, and she accepted it.

"Yes, thank you." She stood up to leave, and was almost at the door when Satoshi addressed he again.

"Sonoda-san."

"Yes?" Umi turned around to see him sporting an earnest smile.

"A paper like that one is more along the lines of what I expected from you. I'm sure this is only the beginning for you."

Again, he doesn't really know what he's saying… Still, she accepted the compliment. "I hope so."

Umi was surprised to see Marika waiting for her outside Satoshi's office.

"You're going back to your apartment, right?" The black-haired girl asked.

"Yes. Are you walking that way, too?"

Marika fell into step beside her as they descended the stairs. "Yeah, the closest bus stop is on the east side of campus."

"Really? That's still a fifteen-minute walk."

"It's alright, the exercise is probably good for me. Did your paper get ripped apart by Satoshi-san?"

"Surprisingly, he had many good things to say about it." Umi shrugged her bag off of her shoulder and produced her paper from inside. "You can look over it if you still want to."

Marika took it and, after a few minutes, let out a low whistle. "Looks like I was right! Writing a paper the night before is actually a great idea!"

"I think I've also been feeling more inspired as of late." Umi said sheepishly.

"Why's that?"

"I've been working on a song."

Marika's eyes lit up, and for a moment Umi wondered why she was admitting this to her. "No way! For real? Are you writing the music and lyrics?"

"I wrote the lyrics, but Maki is handling most of the music composition."

She looked over, and Marika's eyes were wide and disbelieving. Her expression reminded Umi of the fans that she used to run into, years ago. "Nishikino Maki?! The one and only composer of μ's?!"

"I don't think I'd be comfortable working with many other composers."

"The process must be different, since you two don't have much of a chance to talk any more…"

"Oh, we do. She's a student here as well."

"What?!" Marika practically shrieked, causing Umi to flinch. "There are two idol celebrities on campus, and I didn't even realize?!"

"Well, I didn't reach out to her until recently…"

"Are you two planning a μ's comeback?" Marika leaned in, uncomfortably close. Umi couldn't blame her, though; this was probably incredible news for a fan like her.

"N-no, nothing like that. This song might just involve the two of us."

"Aw…" Marika stepped back. "Still, it's really awesome to hear that you're writing music again."

Seeing that her own paper now rested unread at Marika's side, Umi reached out to take it back. "I shouldn't have to say this, but please don't tell anyone. This isn't a μ's project, so I'd hate to give people the wrong idea."

Marika raised a stiff hand to her head in a mock salute. "Don't you remember how good I am at keeping secrets?"

Umi had to smile at the silly gesture. "I'm just making sure. If you do, I'll show you the finished product."

The black-haired girl gasped, grinning widely. "I can't wait!"

Five days later, Umi sat at her computer, guitar in hand. She strummed through a few chords over a vocal melody that she was debating whether to scrap or build upon.

After her last exam of the semester, she had promptly returned to her apartment. She had been thrilled to start working on her song without any deadlines or papers looming over her head, and she felt as though she had made significant progress over the last few days. It was still very crude, and sounded nothing like jazz, but it was a start.

Maki had texted her about half an hour prior, letting her know that her grades were more or less finalized, and that she was on her way to Umi's apartment to show her personally. Currently, Umi checked her phone, but its screen did not indicate any new messages.

At that moment, however, three knocks sounded at her door again. Umi sighed with relief and placed the Martin back on its stand with great care. Then, she walked to the door and opened it to reveal a tired-looking Maki. A rolling suitcase stood an all four wheels at her side.

"I take it you're glad to be done." Umi stepped aside to let her junior in.

Maki's steps were heavy, and her suitcase accompanied her through the doorway. Without so much as a glance at Umi, she walked straight to the couch and flopped down onto it. A long, quiet groan followed her covering both of her hands with her face.

Umi didn't press Maki to talk, instead choosing to follow her to the couch and sit down next to her.

It didn't take long for Maki to recover anyway. "I'm okay," she clarified. "I'm just ready to sleep for a while."

"I've been catching up for the last few days."

"Lucky," the redhead muttered. "How's the song?"

"Good, actually." Umi brightened a little. "I'll show you the chords that I have so far when you're ready."

Maki nodded slowly, sinking even further into the couch. Umi couldn't let her rest for too long, however, since she had a sneaking suspicion as to why Maki had walked all the way to her apartment.

"So, Maki. What are your final grades?"

"I got A's in all of my classes," she stated. Umi tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy. College was a different beast, but less so for some people.

"And what were your grades before we started writing the song?"

"They were still A's."

"So?" Umi pressed. Maki was being indirect again. "Does that mean they didn't drop?"

"See for yourself." Maki held out her phone for Umi to take. When she did, she saw that Maki had it open to a screenshot of her grades. A quick zoom-in revealed that they were, indeed, all A's.

"Those are my grades from the beginning of the month," Maki explained. "The next picture has my grades as of today. You can compare them yourself, so there's no room for confusion."

...Or she could just tell me, a rather snarky voice in Umi's head whispered, but really, she didn't mind all that much. She probably would have asked for confirmation either way. So she swiped to the right, and sure enough, Maki's final grades for the semester were also A's.

The percentages, however…

There was a notable pattern in Maki's grades between then and now. A small, almost insignificant pattern, but a pattern nonetheless. She looked over to Maki for a sign of affirmation, and… was that a smile? "Maki… you… your…" She struggled to process the outcome, but this was reality.

"Yes?" Instead of helping, Maki continued to lead her on. She raised an eyebrow, almost teasingly.

"Your grades went down by less than one percent…" Umi finally succeeded in getting the words out, but her mind wasn't quite there yet. She scrolled back and forth between the two screenshots, which only confirmed what she feared. "All of them."

"That's right."

"So…"

Maki now sported a full-fledged smile - no, a smirk. "That was what we agreed on, right? I told you what would happen if my grades slipped. And they slipped."

Umi opened her mouth, ready to mount her defense, and realized that she had none. Instead, she was forced to settle for a feeble: "But the difference is almost negligible…"

"A deal's a deal." Maki shrugged.

Umi could only nod, defeated, as she handed Maki her phone back. The redhead was exuding too much gusto for this to be an accident. She probably wouldn't get confirmation from the con woman herself, but she had definitely been played.

However, there wasn't anything she could do about it now. She had agreed to Maki's condition, after all, and she had gotten a song that they had made decent progress on together in return. Perhaps it could be worth it in the end, but first Umi had to take into account the gravity of her friend's request.

Speaking of which…

"What's your request, then? You promised that you'd tell me now." Admittedly, she had given some thought to Maki's possible request during the past three weeks, but she hadn't the slightest idea of where to start, in part because Maki hadn't dropped so much as a hint of what it might have been. She gave up on the issue shortly after, but it still pestered her in the back of her mind every now and again. Now, even as it was about to be revealed, she was still clueless and, as a result, somewhat ready for anything. That's what she liked to think, anyway.

"It's easy. Come home for Christmas break."

Scratch that. She was certainly not ready for anything.

"We're taking the train tomorrow morning. I'm already packed and ready to go." At this, she nudged her suitcase with her left foot. So that was why she had brought it to the apartment.

"What."

In the end, any of Umi's attempts at protesting ("I haven't packed yet," "I still need to clean the apartment," "I wasn't planning on going home," etc.) were ineffective in consideration of the simple fact that this was Maki's one request, which she had agreed to uphold no matter what.

And that was how Umi found herself on a Akihabara-bound train, a five-hour ride from the station near campus. Maki sat across from her, one headphone in her ear while the other hung limp and unused. She stared out the window, where the landscape was mostly bare and brown. Luckily, it hadn't snowed for the past few days, so it was a clear, albeit cold, ride home.

"I feel like you tricked me."

Maki turned away from the window upon hearing those words, taking the single headphone out of her ear. Umi thought that she would have to repeat herself, but that immediately proved not to be the case.

"What makes you say that?"

Umi scratched at her chin with a thumb. "Actually, 'tricked' may not be the most fitting word. 'Manipulated,' perhaps?"

Maki raised an eyebrow but didn't respond, so Umi continued.

"So far, most of the progress that's been made on the song is my doing. I know you've given me a lot of pointers and you haven't had much time to work with the chords I showed you, but…" She looked out the window, fearing she was coming off as selfish. It sounded less accusatory in her head, but it was too late to take it back. "I agreed to come home with you because your grades fell a little, but I thought I'd see more from you as a result."

She risked a glance at Maki, which proved to be a mistake because she could not match her junior's neutral yet intimidating stare. Maki remained silent just long enough for Umi to regret what she said.

"You agreed to lay out the chords. I didn't force you."

"I know, I know. It's just… not what I agreed to in the first place." She winced preemptively, expecting Maki to jump to her own defense.

Her junior chewed on her lip, maintaining her stare. "Are you mad at me?"

"No! Not 'mad,' per se, just..." Failing to find a better word, Umi could only shrug.

"Well, you're right, in a way." A corner of the redhead's mouth turned up in an almost indiscernible smile. "I wouldn't say I tricked you, but this was my ulterior motive." She motioned outside, indicating the moving train they currently sat in.

"Did you plan this whole thing?"

"Not exactly. No one could have predicted that you were writing a song." Maki shut her eyes briefly and began to roll up her headphones, throwing them in her bag before turning back to Umi. "I wanted you to go home for break long before we started writing the song, so when you asked me for help, I thought it was the perfect opportunity. That way, if you agreed to do something in return after we made progress on the song, there was no way that you could turn me down. Turns out," she gestured to their current situation with a sweep of her hands, "it worked. I thought that you might say no to coming home otherwise."

"I see." Umi had to admit that it was a decent plan.

"Don't worry, I'm still going to keep my word," Maki assured her. "While we're on break, I can really focus on the song."

"I wasn't doubting that. I was only realizing that you just got everything you wanted."

Maki didn't need to confirm this, as both girls knew that she was right. She only smiled, teasingly, and Umi was compelled to return the gesture.

Maki had long since unraveled her headphones again, and both girls had been staring idly out the window for some time before Maki spoke up.

"It's fun to write a song again."

"It is, isn't it?" Early as they were into the process, Umi was already eager to hear the final product. "Oh," she sat up a little straighter as the words reminded her of a question she had been meaning to ask, "did you figure out what we're going to do about the instruments?"

Maki nodded. "I thought about it. One of my old piano teachers plays for a band. He isn't that old and he hates classical music, so I always wondered what he was doing as a teacher. It was never anything serious, but they have some experience in the studio." Her hand continued to dig through her bag until she pulled out their crumpled, wrinkled, almost-torn sheet of lyrics. "I wrote down his phone number here as a possible contact," she added, unlocking her phone as she spoke.

To Umi, however, the idea seemed a little dubious. "He'd do that for you? For free?"

Maki stopped typing on her phone to look up at Umi. "Well, he might give me a discount, since I'm a former student."

"Do they play jazz?"

After hesitating briefly, the redhead replied with a quiet "I don't know."

Umi frowned. Maki had said that she'd "thought about it," but this came off as somewhat ill-prepared. "If they can't or won't play your arrangement, what then?"

"I know it isn't the best plan," Maki admitted. "I told you that one first because I didn't think you'd like my backup."

"Backup…?" A shadow crossed Umi's face. "Do I want to know?"

Maki shrugged, either unfazed or oblivious to Umi's immediate air of disapproval. "You know there's a backup now, so I might as well tell you." She took a breath, glancing at their lyrics once more before refocusing. "We can also advertise that we need people to record an instrumental for us. For that to have a chance at working, we have to get the word out that we're from μ's, and that we're looking to make another song."

At this, Maki bit her lip, swaying her head from side to side. Umi could almost see the gears in her head turning, as if the plan sounded even more unlikely to succeed now that she had said it out loud. "We would advertise online, of course, but I was thinking that it would be even better to post and hand out flyers in Akihabara. I think μ's might still have some traction there, so we'd have a higher chance of finding someone who's interested."

Umi sank into her seat, staring at Maki with wide golden eyes. "You're right. I don't like that plan at all. Even if we don't get someone to agree, we're drawing a lot of attention to ourselves."

Her junior nodded. "That's why it's a backup. If people hear that we're making another song, that will give them all sorts of ideas."

"They might think that we're getting back together." Umi shuddered, not at the idea of being an idol again, but at the idea of being an idol and a full-time college student.

"Exactly. Not all of μ's is in touch right now. If that rumor spreads, it could really be a mess."

Even though her own name was not mentioned specifically, Umi was clearly the target of that statement. She felt a stab of pain, and it was all she could do to manage a nod in response.

Fortunately for her, Maki did not seem intent on leveling any more accusations at her. "That's why it's only a backup plan. I'd rather have the musical arrangement done quietly."

Umi nodded at this as well, and both girls fell silent. She turned her attention back towards the window, and saw Maki take out and unravel her headphones out of the corner of her eye.

Time passed, but Umi was unable to use the fleeting landscape to keep track. It was rather unchanging, after all: dormant rice fields, barren trees, and hardy, unappealing grasses and bushes consumed most of her field of vision. Maki speaking up again after some time hanging in that strange, fluid limbo brought her back to the present.

"I lied, by the way."

Umi's attention shifted back to her friend sitting across from her, and suddenly she became aware of the lazy pose that she had adopted while staring out the window. With considerable effort, she sat up fully in her seat, stifling a yawn. "Come again?" She hoped for further elaboration on Maki's part.

"There's one more condition that I have in exchange for writing the song with you." Maki stared, unblinking, at her senior. It was somewhat intimidating.

This wasn't very good news from Umi's perspective. "We didn't agree on that." Her eyes narrowed.

"You're right. Just consider it a…" at this, the redhead twisted a strand of her hair around a finger. Umi watched the familiar motion while her junior paused. "...a natural extension from the first part."

Umi tried, and failed, not to look unimpressed. "I think I know where this is going."

"Then you get why, right?" Maki cracked a smile at her. "I got you to come home for three weeks, so I can't let you just hide in your room while you're there."

"So, your second condition is for me to socialize?"

"With the other girls, yes. I think most of them are going to be home for Christmas, if they aren't already." Umi moved to respond, but Maki cut her off with a swift, single finger raised into the air between them. "Everyone wants you back. Even if you don't want anything to do with them, don't you think it's about time you explained yourself?"

She was sure that Maki didn't mean it that way. There was no way she could have known, after all. Still, her words struck an immediate and entirely unwanted fear into Umi, who jerked forward, her mouth open and full of denials and protests, but they never formed into actual words. Instead, she remained frozen in that position, mouth agape and eyes wide, until she realized that she had misunderstood. "I, uh… Sorry," she stammered, swallowing her overreaction. However, her near-outburst had its own effect on her friend sitting across from her.

Maki had leaned back considerably in her seat upon witnessing Umi's unexpected reaction. "...I didn't think you'd be that opposed to seeing everyone again, but if you are-"

"That's not it." Umi cut her off, and Maki shrank further away from her as she was interrupted. "I… You said that everyone wants me back?" She couldn't explain herself. This wasn't Maki's problem, so it would be wrong to drag her into it.

"As far as I can tell."

"How do you know?"

Maki didn't respond right away. Instead, her eyes looked Umi up and down, sizing her up. The blue-haired girl squirmed, feeling as though she had asked the wrong question. "Do you think otherwise?"

Umi shifted her gaze outside the window again, as Maki's stare was too intense to hold. "I don't know what to think." When she looked over to see Maki's eyebrow raised in confusion, she clarified, "I haven't seen or heard from anyone, since I don't read our group chat. You would know all of those things, not me."

She heard a hollow, repetitive sound coming from Maki's side of the train car, and looked over to see the redhead's foot tapping rapidly against the floor. Looking up, the other girl was visibly troubled in the way that her brow furrowed and her frown was longer than normal. She muttered, barely audible from where Umi sat, "I guess it's better for me to tell you now." She looked up, affixing Umi with that intense purple gaze. "This isn't any of my business, so I'm not going to ask you any more than what you're comfortable with."

Umi motioned for her to continue with a hesitant nod.

"Whenever you come up in our chat, it's about how you've disappeared and how much everyone misses you. Almost everyone agrees with that. The first couple times that it happened, I just thought that it was bad timing, but…" At this, her eyes flickered. She turned away; maybe she didn't want to see Umi's reaction?

"Honoka and Kotori never say anything about it. They just…" She hesitated again, and her next words were heavy and difficult. "They never talk about you."

She expected it through and through, but the words still hit her like a ton of bricks. Through her stunned silence, she realized that Maki was still talking. She forced herself to pay attention. That statement still rung in her ears.

"...everyone noticed it, but we decided together that if something had happened, you three had to sort it out on your own."

"I... " Her own voice came out strained, close to cracking, and it surprised her how quickly her emotions threatened to spill over. She cleared her throat, composing herself. "I see." It was all she could manage at the moment.

Maki's next words were measured, careful. "So you haven't heard from them recently." She wasn't seeking for affirmation: it was a statement with a frightening degree of finality.

"No, I haven't." Umi kept her eyes on the floor, trying to focus on how it rattled and shook with the train. "Are they going to be there?"

"Honoka probably will be. We're trying to get Kotori to come home, too, but she said that she might have to stay in Tokyo over break."

Umi's eyes widened as she heard this. "Does everyone know that I'm coming back?"

"Not yet. What do you think about surprising them?" Again, the hints of a smile played across the redhead's mouth. "You can tell them that you finally wanted to come home for a while. If we tell them the truth, it might sound like I forced you into it."

Umi regarded her friend with suspicion. "You want me to lie?"

Maki shrugged. "More or less. We both know that you're overdue for this, anyway."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I'm ready."

Maki looked away from her to reach into her bag. She produced a small travel pillow and, wrapping it snug around her neck, leaned back, and half-closed her eyes."You have about a day."

Umi followed her friend's lead, but since she neglected to bring a pillow of her own, she could only sink down into her seat with a sigh. "They're meeting tomorrow?"

The redhead nodded. "Sometime in the afternoon. Everyone except Honoka and Kotori will be there, including us."

This time, Umi was expecting that last part. "I hope it goes well…" Her voice was full of uncertainty.

"Everyone just wants to see you again. I'm sure there's a lot for you to talk about."

Maybe too much to talk about… Umi ignored the negative thought that sprung into her mind. "Where is everyone planning on meeting?"

"Nozomi's apartment, I think. Everyone wants to sleep in, so we'll probably go after lunch." Maki herself certainly looked the part: her eyes had closed fully by now, her head tilted back since the pillow didn't offer enough support.

Umi could agree with that sentiment, too. "I'm sure it will be in the chat." She looked, absently, at the adjacent rows of seats up and down the train, noting the train's other passengers, few as they were,

She looked back to Maki to see that the other girl was staring at her with one eye open. "Don't say anything yet. It's supposed to be a surprise."

"I know, I know. I'm just going to read everyone's messages."

The redhead relaxed again. "I don't have to make sure you're going, do I? I'm not planning on picking you up or calling you tomorrow."

Umi responded with a light shake of her head. " I really do want to go." She looked down, and after a moment, added, "But I am a little nervous."

"Don't be. They're going to grill you, though."

"That's exactly it." Umi sighed. "I'm going to be the center of attention, aren't I?"

"You are."

She shuddered. "There's no way around that?"

Maki shifted onto her side so she faced the window. Her eyes remained closed, and Umi idly wondered if she should let her friend sleep. "Don't worry about it."

That's the last thing you should tell someone who's worrying… Umi didn't voice her thoughts aloud, since Maki was already settling into her new sleeping position. She looked back out towards the window, where the tops of buildings started to appear above the horizon like old friends welcoming her home. She remembered that was exactly what was waiting for her, and the comparison made her look away from the window, full of uneasiness.

Akihabara was in sight, but they still had a while to go before they arrived. Maki had fallen asleep already, or at the very least, she was trying quite hard to do so, as indicated by her rhythmic breathing.

"She might be onto something," Umi breathed to herself. Taking her friend's lead, she looked through her bag, and, finding the object of interest, pulled her own pair of earphones from it. After they were comfortably in place, she plugged them into her smartphone and started up her own "Jazz" playlist. It was skeletal compared to the one Maki had shown her, but she had to start somewhere.

The trumpets singing in her ears, she closed her eyes.

A hand shook her awake, followed by a voice, much too close to her ear.

"Umi. Umi, we're here."

"Nnnh…" she shrunk away from the invasive hand, grasping in vain at the holds of sleep.

"The train's about to leave."

"Mmh!"

Umi heard a sigh from above her. The hand that shook her shoulder now gripped it and pulled, dragging Umi all of a few inches away from the edge of the seat. Its other, intended effect was much more successful.

"Okay, okay! I'm awake!" With a tremendous effort, she cracked her eyes open, squinting immediately at the harsh white light that illuminated the train. She shifted onto her back and faced Maki fully, her right hand moving to shield her eyes from the light while her left reached for the earphones still in her ears, though they had long since stopped playing music. Her arms were still too unresponsive to do anything more complicated than allowing her earphones to hang down in front of her shirt, so she resigned them to that position. She couldn't look up for fear of the light blinding her, and she noted that Maki's suitcase stood next to her, the handle fully extended.

"Ugh…" she groaned. She happened to glance to her left, past Maki, and saw a few passengers waiting in line for the nearest door to free up. They seemed in no hurry to exit out into the station. "Wait, the train isn't about to leave. It seems like it just got here."

"It did, but I thought you'd wake up faster if I said that." Maki took her hand off of Umi's shoulder. It found its place on her hip, her other hand holding her smartphone which she now glanced towards. "The train will leave if you keep lying around, though."

Umi wanted to chastise her friend and her nonchalance towards lying, but now wasn't the time for a morality lesson. Her eyes still heavy with sleep, she took hold of her bag and stood up unsteadily, her limbs aching for a stretch. She instead opted for a more modest rubbing of her eye, unable to stifle the yawn that followed. It was cut short as she caught sight of Maki's back already turned to her, slowly retreating as the other girl started towards the exit.

"Hey, wait!" Clumsily, she slung her bag over one shoulder while gripping her suitcase with her other hand. She took off after her friend, her suitcase teetering on one wheel behind her. Luckily, the aisle was spacious enough that she didn't have to push anyone else out of the way; she didn't know if she would have had the audacity to do so, anyway.

Maki was waiting for her on the platform, her focus directed towards her smartphone. Umi glared at her as she finally caught up, having successfully navigated through the modest crowd of travelers. "Why did you leave me back there?"

"I didn't want to give you a chance to go back to sleep." The pianist gave Umi a quick glance before turning back to her phone. Its white light illuminated her face more so than the soft yellows of the train station.

Umi rolled her eyes. She had shaken off any traces of sleep from them in her rush to get off the train. "That was unnecessary."

Maki ignored her. "Do you want a ride home? I'm going to ask my parents to send someone to pick me up." She pointed at her phone.

"Your parents…?" Umi repeated, the word triggering a realization in her. Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh, no."

Maki looked up again, questioning her silently with a raised eyebrow.

"I forgot to tell my parents that I'm coming home for Christmas." Umi slapped her hand against her forehead, already berating herself for overlooking what should have been an obvious detail.

Maki's eyes widened in a similar manner to Umi's own, but her true reaction was betrayed by a short burst of laughter that escaped her mouth. She silenced it quickly, but not before Umi whirled to look at her, and by then, she couldn't contain her amused smile.

"You didn't?" She asked, in between giggles. Umi's glare seemed to do little to discourage her laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Her laughter subsided, but the smile remained. "You should be fine. It's not like they're renting out your room or anything."

Umi nodded silently. It must have been a little too unsure, because Maki's smile faded. "They're not, are they?"

"No, nothing like that. At least, I don't think so," she added.

"Then you'll be fine." Maki's phone buzzed in her hand, but she ignored it to ask Umi, "So, do you want a ride or not?"

Umi considered it for a moment. She looked out at the sea of people, spilling from the train station out into the streets. "Thanks, but I'll walk. My house is less than a mile from here."

"Are you sure?" Her phone continued to buzz, but she still didn't pick up.

Umi nodded. "It's still pretty bright, and the streets look like they're crowded." She looked back to her friend, sporting a smile. "And it's been awhile since I've been home."

Maki bit her lip and shrugged. "If you say so. Call me if you change your mind."

"I think I'll be okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Maki nodded, and Umi was surprised to see that her phone hadn't gone to voicemail already. She picked it up and, with a final wave, took her suitcase in her other hand. Umi could hear snippets of the conversation, most likely with her chauffeur, as her voice started to blend in with the bustle of the crowd: "Yes, I'm at the station…"

She was soon indistinguishable from the rest of the station's visitors. Though it was late afternoon and the crowd's density would usually be at its highest, Maki's decision to take a Sunday train home proved to be a wise one. Today, the train-users were more easygoing, less impatient, and most importantly, smaller in number. Umi grasped her suitcase's handle with one hand and straightened out her windbreaker with her other, and she didn't have to thread her way through the crowd as she stepped outside.

The evening chill was there to greet her, a harsh reminder that she had lacked the foresight to wear her beanie, which was currently stuffed in some corner of her suitcase. Past the reach of the tall buildings that surrounded her, the sky, already covered by a cloudy gray, was starting to darken.

Akihabara, a constantly evolving cultural center, stopped for no one, yet in a strange way, it seemed unchanged from when Umi had left two years ago. She had expected to be overwhelmed upon her arrival, having been away for so long, but the city lights and traffic sounds seemed to welcome her.

Umi smiled and set off for home. She wouldn't have to walk far; she had already been home the moment she stepped off the train.

Note: I'm lowkey mad at myself that I didn't make Umi and her T.A. actually talk about anything of substance, but I sort of wanted to have this chapter done more than anything else.