Sitting upright on the sofa, Kikukawa Kyo gazed at Anon and Tomori, who were seated across from her. Her eyes, clear as water, betrayed nothing of what she might be thinking.
After hearing the question Kyo had just asked, Anon and Tomori each had their own distinct, yet equally thought-provoking reactions.
If it had been anyone else, suddenly confronted with such a question, they might've just assumed it was some cliché prompt out of a knock-off personality quiz—something impossible to answer seriously.
But for both Anon and Tomori, this wasn't just some abstract topic. They'd actually been through something like this before.
So when Kyo suddenly brought it up, neither of them could help but be pulled back into those memories—the ones they'd rather forget, but that still clung to their heels, refusing to let go.
"All that effort, but it still didn't work out…"
Anon murmured to herself, uneasily brushing her bangs with her fingers, her usual bright smile looking a little strained.
It had only been a little over two months, but in London, Anon had experienced setbacks and failures unlike any she'd ever faced before.
She used to be the center of attention wherever she went, the focus of every crowd. She was so used to being admired, so used to a world where hard work was always rewarded. She enjoyed the thrill of being noticed and had never really known what it felt like to be picked on or targeted.
But London was a different world altogether.
Thrown into a completely unfamiliar place, she didn't have any close friends to confide in, and she didn't dare tell her parents and worry them. She wanted to fit in, to adjust, but after one early blow to her confidence, she'd found herself hesitating, too nervous to try again.
She kept telling herself that if she just learned English, if she could just understand the culture, everything would eventually work out.
But before she could even see success, the exhaustion—mind and body—became unbearable.
So, Anon chose to run away. She went back to Japan, simply sidestepping the problem altogether.
Tomori's reaction was even more direct. She gripped her hands tightly, visibly anxious, her amber eyes darting between Anon and Kyo with the frantic look of a startled deer.
Unlike Anon, Tomori struggled when it came to taking action. More often than not, she would retreat into her own world, always passive when dealing with people and the outside.
The one who'd broken into that world—and dragged her out—was Sakiko.
It was during her time in CRYCHIC that Tomori finally started to try, for real. From being terrified of singing out loud, to finally letting her voice ring on stage…
But just as she'd begun to feel a little warmth, basking in the sunlight, she lost it all over again.
So, Tomori chose to run, too. Before the band had even truly disbanded, she'd already slipped away, curling up like a pill bug, back into the shadows.
Kyo watched the two of them, neither giving her an answer right away. She didn't rush them. She simply watched, quietly observing their reactions.
In the end, it was Anon whose thoughts circled back to the present first.
Why did Kyo ask that, anyway?
That was the first thing that came to mind: maybe Kyo herself had run into a similar situation—some kind of setback.
But in Anon's mind, Kyo was always so composed, so tall in a way, as if nothing could ever defeat her. If even Kyo had failed at something, what on earth could it be?
Then Anon started thinking about how she should answer.
If I'm right, and Kyo's struggling with something, then I should probably say something positive and encouraging, right?
But what if Kyo really does something reckless because of my answer? Wouldn't that be my fault?!
If it were anyone else, maybe Anon could have just thrown out some pretty words, no problem. But this wasn't just a hypothetical for her—she'd lived it.
If she said something like "It's okay, you'll definitely succeed as long as you don't give up," wouldn't that just be slapping herself in the face?
And more importantly, Kyo already knew she'd run away from London. If she started spouting platitudes, Kyo would see right through it.
Tomori, save—wait, Tomori can't help either. Even though she didn't know all of Tomori's past, just from how they'd interacted since the start of school, it was obvious Tomori wasn't exactly equipped to give a good answer here.
As the two of them sat there, stuck for what felt like ages, maybe their conflicted expressions were kind of funny, because Kyo seemed amused. She covered her mouth with one hand, letting out a soft giggle, like wind chimes swaying gently under the eaves—a sound that broke through the serious mood that had hung over her question.
"It's just a question, that's all," Kyo said, her laughter gentle and restrained. "Anon, Tomori, do you really have to agonize over it so much? Or was I just being too serious earlier and made you both nervous?"
After that, the smile never left Kyo's lips. She shifted her posture, just slightly, becoming more relaxed.
She let herself fully unwind, falling back into the sofa cushions and closing her eyes, the picture of someone drifting off for a nap.
With Kyo's gaze gone, the pressure on Anon and Tomori seemed to lift almost instantly.
"Just pretend I'm asleep," Kyo murmured, her voice getting softer and softer. "Right now, I'm just a sleepyhead who can only swim in the ocean in her dreams. All I can hear is the sound of the sea breeze… and the endless water all around…"
Her words faded into a slurred whisper, as if she'd truly slipped into a dream of the ocean, and then fell completely silent.
"Kyo…?"
There was no response. All Anon and Tomori could see was Kyo's chest gently rising and falling. After her bath, she'd managed to keep her hair mostly dry, but the tips were still damp, sticking to her cheeks and neck. Kyo made no move to brush them aside.
She really looked like she'd fallen asleep.
Even after all the surprises Kyo had thrown at her today, Anon still found this a little surreal.
Am I actually the one dreaming? she wondered, starting to question reality itself.
She'd always thought Kyo was a mysterious, hard-to-read girl, but after today—ever since Kyo had gotten into this weird, dreamy mood after her bath—she was almost impossible to keep up with, like someone a little bit drunk on her own thoughts.
Okay, so here's a new problem. If Kyo's actually asleep, do we still need to answer her question? But if she asked it and then just dozed off, that feels kind of contradictory.
But if it's Kyo doing it, I guess it's not impossible…
Anon and Tomori exchanged glances, each seeing the same giant question mark in the other's eyes.
Now what?
Meanwhile, Kyo seemed to have it the easiest—she just had to close her eyes and lie back on the couch, perfectly content, either really sleeping or just pretending. If only she had a little blanket, it'd be perfect.
Anon tried the usual ways to wake someone up: she gently shook Kyo's shoulder, played a heart-stopping alarm on her phone, and even poked Kyo's cheek…
But none of it worked. What was even weirder, Kyo wasn't just faking it in some obvious way—she reacted exactly like someone genuinely asleep, curling up or making little movements whenever Anon disturbed her.
Maybe we should do something even more drastic to wake her up? Like…
The thought popped into her head and grew more and more tempting, but in the end, the two of them gave up.
At least now, Anon and Tomori weren't nearly as nervous as before. With someone supposedly asleep in front of them—someone who couldn't hear anything they said—it didn't feel so hard to open up.
In a way, Kyo's approach, while a little exasperating, was actually pretty considerate.
"Kyo, you already know what happened with me," Anon finally said, breathing deeply before speaking. "I'd love to say something inspiring, like 'as long as you keep trying, you'll overcome anything'…"
She gave a self-deprecating laugh. "But I couldn't even face my own problems—I ran away. That's my answer, I guess."
Kyo, lost in her sea-breeze dream, didn't react at all.
Instead, Tomori seemed curious about Anon's story, a little worried too.
"Ah, it's fine, Tomori," Anon reassured her quickly. "It doesn't bother me so much anymore."
As for why…
Anon stole a glance at Kyo's peaceful sleeping face. Even though her eyes were closed, Anon still worried she might see through the feelings she was trying to hide.
"Now… it's your turn, Tomori." She patted Tomori's shoulder, encouraging her.
"Mm… okay!"
With Anon going first, Tomori finally felt brave enough to speak up.
"I… I used to feel really lost…"
As soon as she started, Tomori seemed to slip into her own world, the dam breaking and everything she'd kept inside spilling out at last.
"But then Sakiko told me about the band… and I felt a warmth I'd never known before."
Is Tomori going off topic? Anon wondered, but she didn't interrupt. She wanted to hear Tomori's story too.
"In the band, Sakiko said I could turn what was in my heart into lyrics. She told me, 'I want to become human.' And for the first time, I really felt like maybe I could become human, too…"
Become human. Kyo's lashes fluttered imperceptibly.
"But then Sakiko left…"
Tomori's voice faltered, tinged with loss. "I ran away, and I got lost all over again."
The sadness was gone almost as soon as it appeared.
"But…" Tomori gazed at Kyo's sleeping face, her stare so intense it felt like it could burn right through Kyo's eyelids. "You showed up again, Kyo."
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T/N: wow i havent translated this since like last year i think