Note: The Honoka chapter is finally here! It's also the longest one yet, so I hope it was worth the wait.

Umi looked up to the sight of the familiar storefront greeting her. Late mornings on weekdays lent themselves to slower business, and Homura Sweets Shop was certainly no exception even with Christmas just two days away.. The surrounding streets were deserted, leading Umi to believe that the inside of the store was no different… except for one person. The thought of facing Honoka again still terrified her, even though - or perhaps partly due to the fact that - more than a year and a half had passed since their last meeting.

It didn't help that said last meeting didn't end on particularly good terms.

Umi squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply. She had put this off long enough. Kotori's words to her resounded in her mind: "She still wants to see you again." She glanced down, smoothing out her woolen sweater. It was a purely nervous gesture, since she doubted that woolen sweaters were even capable of being wrinkled. Still, she had spent far too much time in front of the mirror earlier that morning, picking out (and rejecting) a number of outfits before remembering that it probably didn't matter what she wore. She was meeting up with her friend, not going on a date.

Now, she slid open the door to the sound of chimes, the pleasant and painfully familiar aroma of homemade sweets greeting her. A girl stood behind the counter with her back to Umi, the white strings of her apron tied around her back. Her hair was tied up in a similar manner, but its striking orange was unmistakable. Umi stood in the entranceway, mouth open but words failing to call for the attention of her friend… if that feeling was still mutual even after all this time.

Fear also constricted the words in her throat, for she was almost too scared to see Honoka's expression after she turned around. Surprise? Sadness? Disgust? Imagining those expressions on a face that had been so consistently bright and fearless two years ago terrified Umi to the point that her feet almost uprooted her from the entranceway, but the instinct to flee kicked in too late.

Honoka turned around, the rehearsed greeting of "Welcome to our-" dying on her lips as their eyes met.

She was making it painfully obvious that seeing Umi again shocked her, so Umi herself similarly failed to find anything to save the situation. They stood there in silence, less than ten feet and almost two years of lost time between them.

Then…

"Umi…-chan?" Honoka's expression, wide-eyed and vulnerable, didn't change as the name tumbled out.

"H-hello." She responded, automatically, before realizing how stiff she sounded. "Honoka, I-"

She jumped as the girl in question flew out from behind the counter, and in a moment, she found herself staring into the deep blues of Honoka's eyes. She looked down and saw how, even as Honoka's hands remained firmly rooted to her sides, her fingers, dusty with flour and powdered sugar, twitched achingly. A cruel part of Umi's mind suggested that, perhaps, Honoka wished to throw her arms around her, but instead Umi felt her hands grasped in her friend's own.

"Ohmygosh," Honoka whispered, her eyes still wide and reverent, "you didn't tell me you were coming!" Slowly, as she raised their joined hands to where Umi could see them, a smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth, but it vanished before it could fully form as a realization took its place. "Aren't you tired? It's a really long train ride home, right?" She dropped Umi's hands and leapt back. "Oh jeez, I haven't even offered you anything yet! I'm the worst!"

Umi's eyes tried, and failed, to keep up with Honoka as she hurried from the oven to the microwave to the stove. Somehow, she hadn't managed to slip in a word edgewise, and the thought made her smile. Less than a minute into their reunion, things could have been going much worse.

Maybe, just maybe, things could go back to the way they had been.

Umi sat in the family living room, trying her hardest not to fidget. She had been ushered there by Honoka, who insisted that she make herself comfortable. ("It wouldn't be right if I made you wait behind the counter like you were any old customer!" Honoka had declared in the face of Umi's protests.) And so she was all but pushed to the living room, and left there while Honoka darted back to the shop front to gather the sweets.

Honoka's tuneless humming emanated from the front of the shop. Umi took the time to glance around, and although it wasn't the best indicator, she didn't see much that had changed from the last time she had been here. A TV sat in a corner opposite the entrance, and various cabinets and shelves lined the walls, but the room was otherwise sparse as far as decorations were concerned.

It wasn't long before the sliding door was thrown open again. Honoka joined her at the table, sitting down on the opposite side while she set a plate of sweets down between them. "Here, Umi-chan! I bet you missed our sweets while you were away, didn't you?" She gestured to the plate with a wide smile.

Umi took in the assortment of desserts that lay before her; ohagi, mochi, and others were neatly lined up for her to take. She picked up a ball of manjuu and examined it, smiling nostalgically. "I tried not to think about it too much." She bit into it, a sigh escaping her lips as the sweetness overwhelmed her senses. "Now that I'm eating it again after all this time, it's pretty clear that I've been missing out."

Honoka giggled at Umi's reaction. "We haven't changed our recipe since you left, so it's the same manjuu that you've always loved."

Umi smiled in response and finished the rest of her manjuu in silence. She had expected Honoka to pick up the conversation somewhere, but Honoka seemed content to watch her eat. Umi shifted from side to side, casting her eyes about the room. The awkwardness of their situation began to set in. She had to think of something, something that was innocuous enough to prevent the conversation from getting too heavy yet open-ended enough to stave off the impending stretch of silence.

"Are you managing the shop full-time?"

"No, no." Honoka waved her hands to discard the notion. "I still have a long way to go. Mom isn't confident yet that I can do everything on my own. Besides, she's not that old yet."

"That's not what I meant," Umi chuckled. "You certainly look the part, is all." It was true, although Umi couldn't tell exactly why this was so. Perhaps it was the combination of the flour that still coated Honoka's hands and the well-worn apron that she donned over her casual clothes, but it was this very image that impressed itself into Umi's mind when she had first seen Honoka from the entranceway.

She wasn't sure how to feel about that. She certainly meant it as a compliment, but…

Honoka looked away, smiling wryly. "You think so?"

"I do."

"Maybe I really am cut out for it, then." Honoka giggled and rubbed the back of her neck. Umi recognized the self-conscious fidgeting. Is this what you've been doing the last two years? Are you still unsure about it? She didn't dare voice these thoughts aloud; it wouldn't look very good for her to speculate about Honoka's life choices just minutes into their reunion.

"I'm sure you didn't visit to hear me talk about the shop! How's college? I bet you're killing it over there!" Honoka picked a mochi off the pile and leaned in excitedly.

Umi leaned back slightly, already feeling the sting of inevitable disappointment. "Why does everyone assume that?"

"Because you're smart. Why else?"

"Even if that were true, it wouldn't be enough."

"What do you mean?"

Umi bit her lip, debating how to explain her academic predicament. "Would you be disappointed if I told you that I'm not having the easiest time?"

"Really?" Honoka all but shouted, causing Umi to flinch. "Why? Are you super busy? Do you have a ton of responsibilities?"

Does 'sitting in my room all day' count as a responsibility? Umi bit back the sarcastic response; Honoka didn't know the current state of her mental health, after all. "I had a part-time job for a while, but other than that I've just been focused on school."

"Even someone as smart as you is having trouble with college…" Honoka muttered under her breath, but loud enough for Umi to hear. "Good thing I didn't go."

"I mean, it's not just a matter of intelligence…"

Honoka scratched her head. "But you have the perfect combination of brains and discipline!"

That would have been true two years ago… Umi tried to take an interest in the manjuu that she had just picked up, but she couldn't pretend that Honoka's assessment wasn't a painful reminder of her current state. "Do you really think that?"

"I grew up seeing it, so yeah." Honoka answered breezily. "Unless…"

She didn't continue. Umi was forced to look up, and almost regretted it when she saw Honoka staring, her head cocked slightly at Umi. "Unless what?" Umi finally asked.

"Umi-chan, are you okay?"

"You're asking that out of nowhere." Shamefully, Umi noted that this was the fourth time that the question had been asked of her in some form. Am I really that transparent?

Honoka didn't seem fazed by Umi's growing embarrassment. "Not really. You keep looking away when you have to answer a question about school."

"Ah." Umi sighed. That's as good of a tell as any. She mulled over how to word her predicament; clearly, Honoka's mental image of Umi was still the star student that she was pre-college. "I certainly wish I still got straight A's."

"Why don't you? It's not like you've gotten dumber, right?"

"No. Probably not," Umi added, which got a wry smile out of Honoka. "I don't have the motivation for it."

Honoka took a bite out of her mochi. She chewed it slowly, keeping took her eyes on Umi all the while. "But you're doing what you love, right?"

"Yes." Umi paused. "I don't know," she corrected herself, shaking her head. "I'd rather do this than study a science or go back home to run my family's business, but…"

"But what?"

"I don't know." She sighed. "Sometimes I wish I was in high school again."

She looked up to see Honoka silently regarding her with wide eyes. Umi looked away and picked another manjuu off of the pile. "Wow," she muttered, forcing out an awkward laugh, "I didn't mean for this to get so heavy. Sorry."

Honoka's usual, cheerful expression returned. To Umi, it was as if she was coming out of a trance. "Why are you apologizing? I know I'm unreliable, but I'm always here for you if you need it."

I'm the unreliable one… "Thank you, Honoka," Umi said quietly, trying not to let her shame show. I don't deserve that. She stood up abruptly, as her face was starting to redden. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"You don't have to ask!" Honoka giggled. "You remember where it is, right?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Umi hurried out the door and towards the stairs. She was still struggling to accept what Honoka had just said. It seemed so easy for her to make that promise.

As she started up the stairs, she was so occupied with her thoughts that she didn't notice the other person making her way down until they bumped into each other. Umi jerked her head up and realized who she had run into.

"Oh!" Umi shrunk back and put up her hands in apology. "I didn't see you there, Yukiho."

The younger girl didn't respond right away. If she was surprised at running into Umi, she certainly didn't show it. Instead, she put one hand on her hip, never breaking eye contact. Her unflinching stare caused Umi to bite her lip in apprehension.

Finally, Yukiho said: "What are you doing here?" Her voice was cold.

Inwardly, Umi felt like the right choice in this situation was to leave as soon as possible, because Yukiho's body language and tone were anything but friendly. However, that glare kept her rooted in place. "I came to visit Honoka," she responded truthfully.

"Why?"

"Kotori said it might be a good idea -"

"You weren't satisfied with how much damage you did the first time you left? Are you back for more?" Yukiho snarled. She stepped forward, and when Umi tried to step back, she found herself pinned against the wall. Though Umi had a definite size advantage, Yukiho's indignance was out in full force, and it was a force to be reckoned with.

"Of course not!" Umi's defense came out too feebly to be convincing. She was painfully aware of the wall pressing harshly against her back. "We're just catching up."

Yukiho didn't seem convinced. She arched an eyebrow and didn't back down from her threatening position. "I don't believe you," she said flatly.

Umi grimaced and tried to look away. "I suppose there isn't much I can do to convince you."

"Onee-chan's really forgiven you already…?" Yukiho voiced the question more to herself than to Umi, judging from the way she broke her intense stare to glance towards the living room downstairs.

"I don't know about that…"

Yukiho's fierce glare returned, but the fear that she instilled in Umi was somewhat mitigated as she stepped away for a moment. "But she's just talking to you, like nothing's wrong?"

"It seems so." Yukiho appeared to relax, and Umi saw her best chance to explain herself. "Yukiho, I really don't have any malicious intentions -"

Unfortunately, Umi didn't see Yukiho's jaw tighten until it was too late. "Oh, and I bet you're gonna say that you didn't have any 'malicious intentions' the first time you left, either?" Once again, she advanced on Umi, who found herself trapped against the wall for the second time. "Listen up, Umi-senpai." Yukiho seemed to spit the honorific out. "My sister's heart isn't something you can play with, then throw away when you feel like it. She might have forgiven you, but that doesn't mean I have."

Yukiho stepped back and, with a final huff, disappeared down the stairs. Umi was left to clutch at her heart and let out an exhaustive sigh. Though she was still reeling from what had just happened, she had to admit: Yukiho was right. Getting back to where she used to be with Honoka wasn't going to be this easy.

"Yukiho passed by. She said she was going out." Honoka said as Umi returned to her seat at the table. "Did you run into her?"

"Yeah, I did." Umi looked away.

"Did she say anything to you?"

"Um…" She looked back up, into Honoka's earnest eyes. She didn't hear, she decided. "Nothing important."

Honoka nodded, and Umi breathed a soft sigh of relief, which took precedence over the brief twinge of guilt she felt for lying. "She didn't know you were coming, so she must have been pretty surprised!"

"It seemed so…" Umi fiddled with the empty teacup in front of her, eager to change the topic. "She's a third-year now, right?"

"Yeah, it's crazy! It seems like she'll never stop complaining about entrance exams and tests and all that stuff." Honoka sighed heavily, as if she were the one who was studying rigorously, and not her younger sister. "I'm glad I never had to go through all that."

Umi briefly recalled her own entrance exams. "It was rather stressful…" A frown overtook her face as she struggled to form a distinct picture of that time.

Honoka giggled. "You and Kotori-chan were studying so much during that time! And I thought that our third year was for slacking off…"

"I don't think you reserved slacking off just for our third year." Umi affixed Honoka with an expectant look. The other girl expertly avoided her gaze, although she still seemed to shrivel under its intensity.

"Yeah, I don't think school is really for me," Honoka admitted. "I dunno if I would've made it through without you two."

"That's why we were there, I suppose." Umi chuckled dryly. She didn't have to rack her brain to remember the countless occasions on which Honoka asked to copy her homework, or the scoldings that almost always followed. "Then, I take it you prefer working to being in school?"

She was mildly surprised when Honoka shrugged. "I definitely don't miss the homework or the cramming or the stress. But being surrounded with friends made it worth it, I think. It's harder to make friends with my customers."

"Really? I'd imagine that they love you," Umi mused with Honoka's cheeriness in mind.

"I mean, I don't have trouble talking to them. I've even memorized stuff about some of the regulars. Did you know there's a woman named Fumio-san who's lived down the street from us since before we were born? She comes in twice a week, and always buys ohagi on Tuesday and mochi on Friday."

"No, I had no idea."

"Yeah, I ask her about her husband and kids pretty often. She always says something like: 'I'll take them here one day, when they're not all so busy,'" she recited in a remarkably bad old-woman impression. "I lost track of how long she's been saying that."

Umi smiled at the image. "It sounds like you're not having such a hard time."

"Well, yeah, but chatting with them and actually making friends with them are two different things. I only see my customers for, like, an hour a week." Honoka glanced towards the door, falling silent for a moment. Umi wondered momentarily whether she needed to return to her station at the front of the shop, but this thought was refuted as Honoka turned back to her. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to work in a different environment," she continued. "Then I wouldn't have to interact with people like that."

"But you're good at it," Umi pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess." Honoka propped her chin up with a hand, absently drawing circles in the desk with the other. "I might as well be, since I'm going to be doing this for a while."

Umi tried to read Honoka's expression, but she couldn't pick up any resignation or unhappiness in it. As she watched her trace the same circle with her hand, she realized that Honoka seemed restless. Perhaps talking about the shop elicited the same reaction that Umi had when talking about school. "Do you like working here?" she tried.

Honoka's eyes flickered to her, and her hand stopped in its tracks. "I mean… if I said no, then it wouldn't look very good for me. I don't have anything else I can do."

Umi was about to clarify whether this was a "yes" or "no," but at that moment the door to the living room slid open. An older woman who resembled Honoka looked inside. "Honoka, there you are," she said. "You can't take breaks without telling me. There are customers at the counter, waiting for you."

"Crap!" Honoka stood quickly, causing the plate of sweets on the table to rattle. "Sorry, Mom! I didn't know Umi-chan was coming."

"Ah." Honoka's mother saw Umi for the first time and smiled warmly. "Umi, do you mind if I borrow Honoka for a bit? She still has her job to do."

Umi smiled sheepishly in response. "Not at all. I don't want to distract her."

In the doorway, Honoka quickly tied the back of her apron up before whipping around to face Umi. "Sorry, Umi-chan!" She clasped her hands together apologetically. "Looks like I have to kick you out, unless you want to stay until closing."

"It's fine." Umi couldn't imagine what she would do during that time. Then she remembered there was also a possibility of her running into Yukiho again, and she shook her head firmly.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow!" With that, Honoka quickly disappeared down the hallway.

Her mother, who had watched their exchange, remained in the doorway. She regarded Umi with a curious look, which made Umi shift uncomfortably. "It's been awhile since you last visited, hasn't it?" the older woman asked.

"Yeah. I've been busy with school," Umi replied. Her well-rehearsed response was much easier for her to say than the whole truth.

"Well, it was nice of you to drop by despite that. Honoka's still quite the handful, so I hope that didn't shock you." She chuckled.

"Not at all!" Umi returned the laugh. "Being away for so long really made me miss her."

"She misses you, too. She talks about you a lot, as you still lived just down the street."

"Really?" In light of what Maki had said a few days ago, about how neither Honoka nor Kotori ever talked about her to their mutual friends, this was something of a revelation.

"That's right. Can you spare the time to come by more often? I think Honoka would appreciate it." She winked.

Umi didn't know how to interpret that, but she didn't have to. Honoka's mother took a step out of the doorway, pointing towards the front of the shop. "Oh, goodness, now I'm the one chatting in the back while customers are waiting for me." She shook her head lightly. "You can see yourself out, right?"

Umi nodded, and Honoka's mother left, calling for her daughter. Umi breathed a long sigh of relief. It was nice not to have Honoka's entire family against her, at least. She pondered the chances of Honoka's mother being aware of their situation as she stood up to leave, but she couldn't tell based on that one interaction alone.

Umi flopped onto her bed with an unceremonious sigh. Perhaps she really had been overthinking everything, as Kotori had suggested. Her reunion with Honoka had proceeded without any major hitches. Sure, there were some moments of awkwardness and perhaps they skirted around each other a little more than she would have liked, but she certainly preferred that to any of the outcomes that she had conjured in her head.

She checked her phone for the first time since leaving her house that morning and was greeted by a message from Maki.

Maki: hey, mind if I come over for a bit

Maki: i recorded a bit of piano and vocals for the song

Maki: i wanted to run it by you

Umi: Please do! I can't wait to hear it.

Maki didn't live too close to her, so Umi decided to start unpacking while she waited. She still had clothes stuffed into her suitcase when the doorbell rang about twenty minutes later. "Coming!" she called, hurrying to the front of the house. She slid open the front door; Maki was waiting there, as she expected, in jeans and a striped purple sweater.

"You look tired," Maki said bluntly.

Umi glared at her, but she still brushed a thumb under her eye self-consciously. "It's nice to see you too, Maki."

"I was just surprised." Maki eased herself out of her flats and dropped them neatly by the door. "We're on break, so why wouldn't you catch up on your sleep?"

"I've been sleeping pretty well, but I just came back from visiting Honoka."

"Oh, right. How was it?"

"It went surprisingly well. Do you want to go to my room or the living room?"

"Umm…" Maki glanced to her right, where another brief hallway led to another sliding door. Past the open door was a wide, mostly empty room with rubber mats serving as the floor. "Do I have to go through the dojo?"

"Not if we go to my room." Umi chuckled lightly upon seeing Maki's adverse reaction. She turned and led Maki down the other hall. "I'm really excited to hear what you've created so far."

"Ah, it's not much, really." Maki stepped into Umi's room and looked around. She only had two places to sit: the desk chair or the bed, and she picked the latter. As she produced an MP3 player from her pocket and unraveled her earbuds, Umi sat next to her. "So far, I've only written the piano riff that'll run over the verses and some of the guitar accompaniment. I recorded myself singing the first verse to see how the vocal melody sounds alongside the piano and guitar, but you'll still be singing the final version, of course." She offered Umi both earbuds.

Umi took one in each hand and tilted her head to affix one to each ear. Once she did, Maki handed her the MP3 player, and a simple press of the "Play" button started the song.

As she expected, the piano caught her attention first. Just like she had outlined to Maki on the guitar, the main riff alternated between two chords, and that much was obvious even in this updated version. But that was where the similarities ended. Umi had designated each chord to be played once per measure, or once for every three counts. With that thought in mind, Maki allowed the left hand to play each chord once, while the right hand, the new emphasis of this reworked riff, played brief yet complex runs that still fell within that chord's parameters.

Umi almost couldn't believe her ears. She looked to Maki, who simply offered her a knowing smile in return. Then, the vocals entered, mixed into the background but still very apparent. It was Maki's voice, Umi's lyrics, emphatic and pleading.

"Stay here, stay in the moment

Where the blooming of spring never ends

Let's go, down by the willow tree

Roll with the hills till we make our ascent"

Umi immediately noticed the interplay between the lyrics and the piano riff; the breaks in the singing coincided with the timing of the right-hand runs, and both melodies were very pleasant to her ear.

"Maki," she began, taking one earbud to express her excitement, "this is amazing -"

"Wait, wait," Maki pointed at the MP3 screen. "There's more."

Umi looked down to confirm this, then quickly strained to listen. The first verse was playing again, but this time with an addition. A clean electric guitar played a seemingly haphazard sequence of notes alongside the other two tracks. It wasn't significant enough to designate as a solo, but it was certainly a far cry from the simple chords that Umi had used the guitar for.

The sample ended after the second rendition of the first verse. "This is much more than I was expecting," Umi said, unable to contain her smile.

"I was trying to make it as jazzy as possible." Maki took the MP3 and wrapped it up. "The piano is obviously pretty jazzy, but I also wanted the guitar to sound more like a jazz guitar instead of, say, a rock or pop guitar. I thought writing a part that played one note at a time was a better stylistic choice than full, blocky chords."

Umi nodded, wondering if it would be worthwhile to take note of this glimpse into Maki's songwriting process. She decided against it; Maki had years of musical training and playing on her, after all. "It sounds easy when you put it like that, but I can't fathom how that translates into these complex and impressive riffs. Not only that, but each part contributes to such a beautiful overall sound."

Maki merely shrugged. "I was just going off of the chords you gave me."

"But it sounds nothing like my initial idea."

"That's just because I reworked it so much. Those ideas probably would've never come about if you hadn't given me that specific outline."

"Either way, I'm glad it's you who's composing it." Umi nodded firmly. "It's obviously in the right hands."

Maki fidgeted but didn't make an attempt to hide her blush. "I'm just doing what I think sounds right. Oh," she said, sitting up a little straighter, "that reminds me. I have more good news."

"About the song?"

Maki nodded. "Remember my old piano teacher who's in a band? He replied to my email. His band agreed to record the backing track, for a small price."

"Really? That's great news!" Umi clasped her hands together excitedly. "How much will it cost? I'll help pay for it."

"Are you sure? It's not that expensive, but…"

"Of course! It's my song too."

Maki smiled. "Thanks. I sent him this sample, and he said that they'd love to do a jazz song."

"So they have experience playing in that style?" Umi thought back to their conversation on the train, and Maki's uncertainty regarding just that.

"Yeah. They're not a jazz band, but after I told him what my plan for the rest of the arrangement is, he said that it's nothing they can't do."

Umi breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm very glad to hear it. I was starting to give serious thought to advertising and promoting on our own."

"Me too. Now all that's left is for me to write the parts for the rest of the instruments and oversee the recording."

"Have you started writing those yet?"

Maki shook her head. "I'll probably do the rhythm section first. Drums, then bass, and then I'll save the trumpet for last."

"Trumpet? You're really going to put a trumpet in the song?" Umi asked excitedly. She recalled the irreplaceable presence of the trumpet in many of the jazz standards that she had heard over the past few weeks.

"I have a couple of ideas for it." Maki seemed to share Umi's excitement, if her own smile was any indicator. "Someone in the band plays trumpet too, so I should take advantage of it."

"To think that this is just a few parts of it…" Umi glanced at the MP3 that Maki still held. "I can't wait to see the final result."

"You said you visited Honoka today, right?"

"I did. Why?"

"Did you tell her about this?" Maki held up the MP3.

"Ah!" Umi lightly slapped herself on the forehead. "I totally forgot."

Maki raised an eyebrow, and Umi swore she saw a tiny smirk on her face to accompany it. "It must've been a pretty engaging visit if you forgot to tell her."

Umi frowned. "I suppose it was, but why do you say it like that?"

"Am I wrong? Anyway, now you can show her the sample when you really do tell her."

"I could…" Umi considered the idea for a second, but she ended up waving it away. "No, I think I'd rather show her when the song's complete."

Maki tucked the MP3 back into her pocket. "Yeah, that might be a better idea." She stood up suddenly, stretching her arms out above her head. "I should probably get going. I told my mom I'd help her make dinner."

"You can cook?" Umi asked, surprised.

Maki shot her a glare. "Why do you sound so shocked? I'm trying to learn, so I don't end up eating noodles or making you cook for me every day."

"The pleasure's all mine, but it's good to learn," Umi laughed. She stood up as well to see Maki out.

"I'll keep you updated. The way it's going, we'll definitely be done before Christmas break is over," Maki said once they reached the front door. She slid it open, giving Umi a brief wave as her way of saying goodbye.

"I'm looking forward to it." Umi returned the gesture with a smile.

After a pleasant but uneventful dinner with her parents, Umi returned to her room. As she lay in bed, scrolling absently through her smartphone, her thoughts inevitably drifted to the day's events, and her time spent with Honoka. Past the initial awkwardness, they had been able to talk quite easily with each other. Though their conversations turned heavy more quickly than she would have liked, the fact remained that Honoka still seemed to genuinely care for her. She felt like they were friends again, for the first time in a while.

Of course, there was still Yukiho's warning to bear in mind. Though Umi had been genuine in her claim that she was only seeking to repair and renew her friendship with Honoka, this apparently didn't change the fact that she was on thin ice with the younger Kousaka sibling. Although she didn't enjoy being on the receiving end of such apparent mistrust, she also couldn't blame Yukiho for harboring those feelings.

She wondered if Honoka knew about their run-in in the hallway. It didn't really help her unease towards the situation. I suppose there isn't much I can do about her… Umi thought. I'll just keep on doing what I'm doing, and hopefully that will be enough to convince her.

As a result of her simultaneous scrolling and thinking, Umi found herself staring at her phone's home screen. Her thumb lingered over a messaging app; more specifically, the messaging app that was home to the official μ's group chat. She hesitated for all of a second before realizing that she no longer had a reason to distance herself from it; with her successful visit with Honoka she had now been greeted with a warm reception from all of the girls. With this in mind, she opened the app to a flurry of messages. Her phone froze as it struggled to process all of the unread messages since she had last opened the app, and Umi shifted impatiently while the little circle in the middle of her screen refused to disappear.

After what couldn't have been more than a minute, the newest messages loaded.

Nico: yo so are we doing anything for christmas eve/christmas

Nozomi: sleepover and Christmas party at Nicocchi's?!

Nico: ...anyone have any REAL ideas?

Nozomi: :DDDD

Eli: Weren't we just going into town to see the Christmas lights?

Nico: oh yeah, i guess that's fine

Nico: Umi you better come

Nico: i can see you reading our messages

"What?!" Instinctually, Umi clicked the Home button and exited out of the app. "Are read receipts on by default?" She knew that Nico didn't mean to embarrass her, but being targeted like that only increased her aversion to replying. Reminding herself that she had promised to spend more time with the girls, she opened the app again and typed in her reply.

Umi: Yes, I'll be there. What time are we meeting up?

Nico: i'm still working christmas eve :/ so i'm not free until after 7

Umi: Okay, I can do that.

Nozomi: yay, umi-chan's coming!

Rin: yay :3

The warm responses brought a small smile to Umi's face. She glanced at the time, and was shocked to see that it was almost midnight. When did it get so late? She decided to retire for the night.

Umi sat up and reached for the lamp on her nightstand, but before she could turn it off, a gentle rattling at her window caught her attention. She turned to see the cause and almost screamed when she saw someone standing outside her room. Upon catching her attention, the figure waved at her as if it was completely normal to stand outside her window at this hour. It took Umi a moment to realize that the person outside was actually a very familiar intruder.

"Honoka!" She shouted, flustered. "What are you doing?!" She stormed to the window and threw it open, ignoring the harsh chill that invaded her room as a result. "Is it so hard to use the front door?"

Honoka didn't appear fazed by Umi's indignance. She glanced around furtively, then leaned in and hissed: "Shhhh! I don't think your parents would want you out of the house right now."

"Out of the house? You don't want to go somewhere, do you?" She looked Honoka up and down with a skeptic eye; the other girl still wore her pajama pants under a glaringly mismatched sweater.

"I do!" Honoka clenched her hands into fists and nodded convincingly.

"You're asking me to sneak out?" Umi asked.

Once again, Honoka gave her a firm nod in response. "It'd be just like old times."

"It can't wait until tomorrow?" Umi glanced towards her alarm clock, which confirmed that it was even closer to midnight. "And my parents might not be asleep yet…"

"It's important to me, you know?"

Honoka's tone gave her pause. She'd heard Honoka say things like this before, but this time was different. Gone was the thoughtless impulse, the disdain for consequence that Umi had attributed many of Honoka's past actions to. In its place was a disquieting solemness, and as Umi looked into Honoka's earnest eyes, she realized that this request was something more akin to a plea.

Or, if she were to take the idea one step further, a cry for help. She cleared her throat. "Where do you want to go?"

Honoka brightened immediately. "To the school!"

The night was surprisingly cloudless and clear. On top of that, Tokyo had yet to experience its first snowfall of the year, and as such even the nights still sported above-freezing temperatures. This didn't mean that Umi wasn't still cold in her hoodie, pajama pants, and sock-and-slipper combination, but as she followed Honoka along their old route to the school, she was grateful for the comparatively decent weather.

"Remind me again why we're going to the school at night?" Umi took in the empty streets and muted streetlights around them. They were, indeed, alone on the street.

Honoka reached the long stairway first and bounded up them two at a time. "I want to show you something," she called behind her.

"That doesn't tell me much…" Umi muttered, but Honoka was too far ahead to hear her. Sighing, she started up the stairs at a slower pace. Honoka waited for her at the top, and they only had to cross the street to enter the school grounds. To her surprise, Honoka crossed the street and walked through the open gates of the school without so much as a glance around her. Umi didn't want to be left alone on the street, so she had no choice but to jog after her friend. She couldn't believe her eyes as Honoka casually walked in through the main entrance. Is there no security guard watching the school at night? She finally caught up to Honoka in the first floor hallway, since the other girl had since slowed to a walk.

"Honoka, I really don't think this is a good idea." Umi had to deliver her scolding in a low, harsh whisper, because the taps of their slippers against the tile echoed throughout the dark hallway. This disrupted the silence of the school at night, a silence that Umi was ashamed to break. "What if we get caught?"

"Don't worry, I've never been caught!" Honoka reassured her in a voice that was far too loud for her liking. "The security guard is always out cold when I visit at night. He must be pretty tired all the time…" she mused as they approached the stairwell.

"You don't know when he'll wake up," Umi pointed out.

"It's fine! We're almost there, anyway!" As expected, her worries fell on deaf ears. Honoka bounded up the steps without hesitation, soon rounding the corner and disappearing from view. Umi only had time to open her mouth, an exclamation of surprise on the tip of her tongue. She heard the tapping of Honoka's footsteps ascending the stairs, which gradually grew more distant. After a moment, the creak of a door opening reached Umi's ears, and the footsteps ceased.

She wanted to chastise Honoka for leaving her alone on the dark stairwell, but she swallowed her fears and quietly climbed the last few steps to the door, which the other girl had left ajar. Stepping out onto the roof, she closed the door behind her for no particular reason, and looked around.

Honoka stood on the other side of the rooftop, the outline of her silhouette cast in a warm, multicolor glow. Past the edge of the roof, Umi could see the city lights, both near and far, that were responsible for this outline. If she listened, she could still hear the nighttime rush of cars, trains, and people alike, coalescing into a faint hum below them.

"Have you ever been up to the rooftop at night?" Honoka asked, her back still turned to Umi.

"We aren't supposed to, so no. How often do you come up here?" As she joined Honoka at the edge of the roof, Umi kept her eyes focused on her friend.

"Just whenever I feel like it. I don't really keep track."

"What's the benefit?"

"I come up here to think."

The seriousness of her answer surprised Umi into silence, so she decided to allow Honoka a moment to do just that. She tried to appreciate the view of the cityscape that the rooftop offered. While her college was also situated in a decently-sized city, it was impossible to leave Tokyo and not miss its sprawling skyline, its constant hum of activity, its bright lights and brighter people.

She allowed a wistful smile to cross her face before she realized that Honoka probably didn't bring her to the school just to enjoy her quiet company. If the earnestness of her request earlier was any indicator, there was something Honoka wanted to get off her chest here. Umi swallowed hard. "What do you think about?" she asked, breaking their precious silence.

Honoka leaned into the fence, almost too far forward for Umi's liking. "The old days, mostly," Honoka said quietly. It was almost lost to a distant blaring of a train's horn, but Umi heard it clearly enough.

"The old days." Those three vague, generic words carried a certain reverence with them. Their implications were quite heavy, after all: long days of practice together, compositions, choreography, heated discussions, laughter and tears. The time of their lives.

And yet, Umi wasn't too fond of using that phrase. Most obviously, "the old days" weren't all that long ago. They were still young, no more than a few years out of high school. Didn't they still have the rest of their lives ahead of them?

Umi stirred herself from her thoughts to realize that a silence had stretched out between them. To her right, Honoka grasped the fence with both hands, swaying back and forth while the fence rattled gently. She looked out towards the city, but as Umi looked into her eyes, she felt that Honoka's gaze was elsewhere; more accurately, in the past.

If Umi's own imagination were more active, she would be able to turn around in this very moment and see what Honoka was seeing. A crisp autumn afternoon on the rooftop. Nine girls sat or stood at various places, each in different stages of their warmup. A few of them stretched, a few others jogged in place. Umi herself would be discussing their most recent song's choreography with Eli, before Honoka pulled on her arm and dragged her away to show her a beetle that had made its home on the rooftop.

Umi couldn't see any of this, but as she observed Honoka's distant gaze, she knew this was the scene that the other girl clearly saw. In Honoka's mind, they were second-years again. Perhaps they would be second-years forever.

"Umi-chan." Honoka's voice was just as distant.

"Yes?"

"Do you want to inherit your family's dojo?"

Umi glanced sharply at Honoka upon hearing the question, but the other girl's eyes were still fixated on the past. "That's a rather loaded question."

"Yeah. Sorry." The apology sounded tacked-on and not all that sincere.

Umi sighed, figuring that Honoka still wanted an answer. "I want to, because there's no one else to do it."

"That's enough for you?"

She had a feeling that she knew where Honoka was going with this. "A more selfish part of me wants to pursue a different career path."

"Like writing?"

The wind picked up. Umi was unpleasantly reminded that her oversized hoodie still wasn't enough to shield her from the cold. "Yes. Mother tells me that I can do that while running the dojo, but I'm not so sure."

"Ah." Honoka seemed to realize how inadequate of a response that was, because an awkward chuckle immediately followed. "Sorry for asking such a weird question. I just wanted to know if I wasn't alone in thinking stuff like that."

Umi flushed with embarrassment as her intended compliment earlier that day, about how Honoka in her work outfit was "fitting," returned to the forefront of her mind. There was no doubt that Honoka hadn't taken too kindly to that descriptor. She was just pretending to accept it… Umi thought, burning with shame. "Does that mean you don't want to run the shop?" She asked.

"Wellll…" Honoka rocked gently against the fence as she contemplated her answer. "I don't know. It's a long story. Can I start from the beginning?"

Umi didn't know exactly what 'the beginning' meant, but she figured she would find out soon enough. "Go ahead."

Honoka took a deep breath. When she spoke, it was uncharacteristically soft, but Umi didn't have to strain to hear her. "I think the only thing I've wanted out of my life is to have fun. You know that. Even if it was at the expense of my family, or my teachers, or you and Kotori-chan, I thought that was the point of being young. The hard stuff could come later."

While Umi waited for her to continue, Honoka let out a long sigh. She turned around and pressed her back against the fence, leaning heavily into it. It emitted a concerning creak, but Umi was too preoccupied with Honoka's reminiscing to express worry. Honoka looked at her briefly, then continued. "I kind of knew that I'd end up taking over the shop. Yukiho's dreams are too big for that place, and she's pretty smart on top of that. Compared to her, I didn't try nearly as hard in school. It's really easy to see the difference between the two of us. That's why I never had a problem with my plan. I don't need much math or literature or whatever for it, and it's better than sitting through chemistry class or doing something else that I'm not good at.

"Then μ's happened, and it was nothing like I would have ever dreamed of. When we were starting out, I didn't think too many people would notice us. But before I knew it, people were looking up to me. They cheered me on. They expected something from me. Can you believe it?" She laughed sadly. "Clumsy, stupid me, leading our little group to accomplish those unthinkable things. Sometimes I still have a hard time believing it.

"More importantly than that, μ's became something that was bigger than me or you or any of us. There were days that we'd be practicing on the rooftop, like usual, but I just wanted to stop everything and… and…" Honoka paused, scuffing her slipper against the ground. "... Maybe I wanted to take a picture of that moment, but even that wouldn't do the trick. I wanted to remember what we did."

Honoka fell silent.

"What do you mean?" Umi knew that Honoka meant more than simply keeping their accomplishments in her memories.

"How do I say it?" Honoka took a moment to think. Umi saw the city reflected in her eyes. "More than saving the school or winning the Love Live, I wanted to remember our feelings. Like, the feeling that there won't ever be a group as unlikely as ours. Or the feeling that we were in the prime of our youth. Something cheesy like that." Her smile was somewhat embarrassed.

"I feel like I've used up a lifetime's worth of good luck. Performing songs and having such an effect on people was something else, but even just being with you all… It was more than I could've ever wanted. I never wanted it to end." She shook her head, letting out a long sigh. "And just like that, it was over. I don't think I'll ever experience something like that again."

"I can't help but ask myself: 'Is that it?' Is that the highest we'll go?" She was now smiling wryly, and she shot Umi a look to match. "When it's all over, high school might be the best time of my life. It's like I'm the main character of some anime, or something."

The thought made Umi vaguely uncomfortable.

"I don't know how I feel about running the shop now. I wouldn't trade our time in μ's for the world, but if this is all that I'm left with…"

Umi drew her arms closer to herself, unable to find the right words to console Honoka. "Does that mean you regret our decision to disband?"

"That's the thing. We made that decision together, which I think was the right thing to do. It would have gotten so much harder if we had stayed together. The 'official' idol business has got to be harsher than what we were doing." She laughed humorlessly. It made Umi shiver; she'd heard plenty of happy laughs and a fair share of sad laughs from Honoka, too, but this empty laugh seemed so unnatural. "I feel so selfish when I think about the old days, but I can't help myself. I mean, what do I have to look forward to? Once I get a bit older, Mom will probably start bugging me about kids to pass the shop down to, and then I'll have to marry some guy…"

Umi felt as though they were still rather young to be talking about marriage, but Honoka didn't seem to share her sentiment as she continued. "The rest of you girls aren't like me. You have so much to look forward to: careers to start, better friends to make, people to fall in love with. I can tell when we all hang out, or when we're talking in the group chat. Eli-chan's talking about studying abroad. Nico-chan hasn't let her own dreams die. Maki-chan's going to be a doctor!" She counted each person off on her hand. "When I see what they're doing with their lives, I can't bring up the old days, because they're moving on to better things."

One particular detail made Umi's eyes widen in concern. "You haven't talked to the others about any of this?" she asked disbelievingly.

Honoka seemed to recognize the alarm in Umi's voice. She turned away and sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. "Nope. They'd tell me that I'm stuck in the past." She chuckled emptily again, then added: "They'd be right, but it wouldn't help much." She looked at Umi's slightly open mouth, upon which she hurriedly corrected herself. "Ah, but I did talk to Kotori-chan about it. I even brought her up here."

"What did she say?"

"She told me she'd be there if I need to talk about it. I believe her, but she has big plans, too, and she's really talented at her own thing. I'd just be holding her back if I called her every time I wanted to complain about the same thing." She shrugged. It pained Umi to see her say these things so nonchalantly. "I've really felt like I'm alone in this. Maybe I've just put off thinking about the future for too long, and it's finally caught up to me." With that final thought, Honoka turned to face the sprawling city once more. She seemed content to let Umi digest her monologue, for which Umi was quite thankful. After all, what was she to say to that brutally honest wake-up call? Could she even help Honoka if her dissatisfaction was so deeply rooted in the past?

She felt a guilty pang of relief when Honoka saved her from having to answer."Ah, jeez!" the other girl shouted, piercing the heavy silence. Umi flinched visibly, but Honoka was in the midst of inhaling deeply, spreading her arms wide, and as such she didn't notice. "I didn't want to make you think I'm hopeless!"

"U-um…" Umi was at a loss of how to respond. Her eye twitched helplessly.

Honoka caught her eye and smiled widely. "That's a lot to get off of my chest, don't you think? Saying all of that stuff at once is really..." She circled her hands around one another to help her think of the most fitting word, "... heavy," she finished.

"You could say that again…" Umi found her voice, though it was still unsteady.

"Sorry!" Honoka giggled. Umi watched her laugh, which had returned in full force; it was no longer the empty shell that it was just minutes before. "I told you: being up here at night makes me think about everything. Maybe it's the view." She pushed herself off the fence. Tilting her face upward, she started to spin slowly, staring up at the sky all the while. "I thought it would be the best place to tell you all this."

Umi considered her friend's assessment. Cliché as it was, Honoka did have a point: the hum of the city was a fitting backdrop for vulnerable conversations of this nature, and it made Honoka's problems seem much more real, if not more pressing. A thought crossed Umi's mind: wouldn't now be as good of a time as any to breach what had happened between them before she left?

She dismissed the idea almost immediately. Honoka hasn't even hinted at it so far. What makes you think she'd want to discuss it? she asked herself. It would just be a painful reminder of both of our mistakes. In addition, Honoka seemed to have more than enough weighing her down already. Yet, as she watched Honoka turn and turn, still cast in that warm glow of the city lights, she wondered if there would be a better opportunity than this.

Honoka planted both of her feet on the ground, facing Umi. "I bet you've had enough of me talking for today. Is there anything you want to talk about while we're up here?"

Umi's breath hitched sharply. She stared with wide eyes at Honoka, who wore an expectant, innocent smile to accompany her question.

I can't ask her, not if she smiles at me like that. How Honoka could smile like she did, how she could laugh like she did, on the heels of such an unabashed confession about the state of her life was completely beyond Umi. Was it just an act?

Then she remembered Maki's advice to her. "Well... " she began, looking up at the sky and hoping to see what Honoka saw. "It's been a while, but I'm writing a song."

"No way! Since when?"

"Um… since about a month ago." Umi quickly replayed the past month's events in her head. "Maki's helping me compose it."

"Maki-chan's helping you?" Honoka frowned. "She always talks about how busy she is. You didn't force her, did you?"

"Of course not!" Umi balked at the suggestion, but paused as the nature of her request to Maki a month prior came into focus. "I mean, it's true that I didn't have anyone else to ask…"

"So she took pity on you?"

"No!" Umi responded, perhaps too quickly. "She was skeptical at first, but she's having a good time writing it now."

"Well, if you two are writing a song together again, it's just like when we were in μ's!" Honoka smiled, a hint of nostalgia on her face. "Is that why you're doing it?"

"I don't think so." Though Honoka's reasoning had been mirrored by many of the other girls so far, Umi hadn't even considered that as a possible influence up until now. If it was an influence on this process, it was completely subconscious. "Put simply, I was inspired. I guess it wasn't too different from 'the old days,' as you would say."

"What's it sound like?"

Umi didn't have the sample on her, so she couldn't have shown Honoka even if she wanted to. "It's not complete yet."

"Ah, that's right…" Honoka put a finger to her chin, retreating into deep thought. "Then, what's it called? Titles are really important," she declared, momentarily adopting a more wizened tone. She does speak from experience, I suppose, Umi thought with a chuckle.

Umi moved to respond before she realized that she had yet to think of a proper title. "Uh… About that…" she said in a blatant attempt to stall for time. Honoka didn't press for an answer, instead allowing Umi time to think by nodding slightly.

She found her answer more quickly than she expected. It was a line in the song which, to her, most succinctly captured the acute yearning found in the rest of the lyrics. "Till We Make Our Ascent. That's what it's called."

"Till We Make Our Ascent?" Honoka repeated, confused. Unsurprisingly, her English wasn't as proficient as Umi's, and she struggled to form the foreign words. "Your writing major is showing, Umi-chan." She flashed a teasing grin at Umi.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Defensiveness crept into Umi's voice.

"Nothing at all!" Honoka's hands flew up to either side of her face, a pacifying gesture. "It just sounds really romantic. What's it about?"

"Romantic…?" It was another facet of the song that Umi had seldom considered, perhaps purposely so. She recalled yesterday's exchanges with Maki and Kotori, and how both of them had insinuated that the song was somehow related to the girl that stood in front of her now. Umi herself was still unsure just how true this was, so she opted for a safer answer. "It's about the desire to escape."

"From what?"

Umi shrugged. "Our lives, I suppose," she said simply.

"Our lives…" Honoka let out a low whistle and broke into another grin. "So you're going through it too, huh?"

"Through what?" That wasn't the response Umi had been expecting.

To her frustration, Honoka didn't elaborate. Instead, she spun on her heel and began to walk back towards the door to the stairwell. "You'll show me when it's done, right?"

"Of course." Umi wanted to ask Honoka what she had meant, but that was quickly forgotten as she realized the implication of what she had just agreed to. "It's a promise," she murmured, not loud enough for Honoka to hear.

She shivered. Realizing that Honoka must have been feeling the cold as well, she jammed her hands into her hoodie's front pocket and hurried to catch up.

The walk back to Honoka's house was mostly silent. Umi was still attempting to process the weight of Honoka's words, the years of pent-up emotions, and as she watched Honoka walk a few paces ahead of her, she wondered how long Honoka had been keeping her dissatisfaction to herself. From what Honoka had told her, and from her own interactions with the rest of the family, almost no one knew the extent of her longing for a time that was long gone.

It was quite the dilemma. No wonder she's so frustrated with herself… Umi thought.

However, when they stopped in front of the shop and Honoka turned around, she was still smiling. "Thanks for listening to me talk and talk," she said.

"I didn't mind."

Honoka wasn't hiding the fact that that she was staring. Umi looked down to the ground, rubbing her neck. "It was nice to see you again."

She looked up in anticipation for a response, but she didn't expect Honoka to dart forward and encircle her arms across Umi's back in a brief, yet firm embrace. She couldn't even react as Honoka pulled back. Her smile persisted. "What happened up there is between us, okay?" She clasped her hands behind her back and turned towards the front of the shop.

"Honoka, wait." Umi called out to her retreating figure.

"Hm?" Honoka didn't turn around.

"You said you haven't told anyone about those things, except Kotori." She couldn't see Honoka's expression, but she pressed on. "If that's true, then why did you tell me?" I haven't been there for you, was her unspoken reasoning.

Honoka twirled on one foot to face Umi again. That smile was still there, but her eyes had such an obvious sadness in them that made Umi's heart twinge. Honoka seemed to regard her for a moment, with those sad eyes, before responding.

"All this time, I'd thought that you disappeared on us because you were throwing yourself into your new life over there. But after I heard you talk about your problems with school and that new song of yours, I changed my mind. I wanted to see if my new idea was right."

"What new idea?"

Honoka took a step closer. "I think we're the same. I can't let go of the old days." Her expression was too serious for Umi's liking. "And neither can you."

"I can't…?" Umi stepped back. She wanted to say that Honoka was wrong, but her own behavior in school, her loss of motivation, even her silent ability to sympathize with everything that Honoka had told her on the rooftop, indicated otherwise.

"Ah, maybe I shouldn't have put it like that," Honoka said as she observed Umi's reaction. "I wouldn't want you to end up like me." She cracked an inappropriate smile. "Sorry. Just forget I said anything, then. You're hanging out with us tomorrow, right?" She stepped towards the door of the shop.

"Y-yeah," Umi stammered dumbly.

"Great! I'll see you then." Honoka slid the door closed, leaving Umi alone outside.

Umi was left to stare at the closed door, her mouth half-open but far from forming a coherent response. After it became clear that Honoka wasn't coming back out, she put a hand to her forehead and let out a soft groan to herself. If she were to assume the role of the victim here, Honoka had just dragged her to the roof, dumped almost two years' worth of emotional baggage on her, and left her to deal with it - but not before claiming that she and Umi had the same problem at their core.

She curled her hand into a fist and tapped it repeatedly against her forehead. "Idiot. She wasn't doing all that to spite you. Aren't you supposed to be there for her?"

Umi looked up at the clear sky and wondered if she was able to.