The first light of dawn seeped through the sheer curtains of Nanami Haruka's small, meticulously organized apartment. The city outside was just beginning to stir, the distant hum of traffic a constant reminder of the life that thrived beyond her walls. Haruka sat at her dining table, a cup of steaming green tea cradled in her hands. Her laptop was open in front of her, but the screen remained blank, the cursor blinking patiently on an empty document.
Today was different. It was Shizuku's birthday—a day that once brought joy and excitement, now only serving as a stark reminder of loss. Haruka had always managed to compartmentalize her grief, burying it deep within the recesses of her mind. But as the morning light brightened the room, so did the shadows of her past begin to creep back in.
She took a slow sip of tea, the warmth seeping into her palms, grounding her in the present. The quiet of the apartment was a stark contrast to the bustling studio downstairs. Here, in her sanctuary, Haruka allowed herself a rare moment of vulnerability.
After her morning tea, Haruka began her day with a series of composing sessions. She had a disciplined routine—wake up, tea, compose, review, repeat. It was a rhythm that kept her focused, yet today, it felt more like a monotonous cycle she was forced to endure.
Her phone buzzed on the table, pulling her out of her reverie. It was a message from Yui, the leader of Aqua Notes.
"Good morning, Shizuku-san! Excited for today's rehearsal! 😊"
Haruka glanced at the message and felt a pang of guilt. She rarely interacted with the group outside of professional settings. Their vibrant personalities were a stark contrast to her own reserved nature. She typed a quick reply:
"Good morning, Yui-san. Looking forward to it."
She put her phone aside and returned to her laptop, but her mind was elsewhere. The image of her twin sister lingered at the edges of her thoughts, as persistent as the morning sun outside her window.
Haruka closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself to concentrate. She began to play a soft melody on her piano, the notes flowing effortlessly from her fingers. It was a tune she had composed for Aqua Notes' latest single—a blend of melancholy and hope.
As the music filled the room, she felt a subtle shift in the air. The room seemed to grow colder, the shadows lengthening despite the rising sun. Haruka opened her eyes, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw a faint figure standing beside her—her sister, Shizuku.
"Shizuku," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The figure was gone as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Haruka with a racing heart and a lingering sense of unease. She shook her head, trying to dispel the illusion.
It's just my mind playing tricks, she told herself. I need to stay focused.
But the presence felt too real, too tangible to ignore.
By mid-morning, Haruka was back in the studio, the vibrant energy of Aqua Notes surrounding her. Yui, with her characteristic enthusiasm, was already running through the choreography with Rin, the main dancer.
"Miyu, let's get those harmonies tight!" Yui called out, her voice carrying across the room.
Miyu nodded silently, adjusting her position to better align with the group's vocal arrangement. Rin, meanwhile, was energetically leading a complex dance routine, her movements precise and full of life.
Haruka took a seat at her usual spot by the window, pulling out her notepad filled with annotations and musical scores. She glanced around the studio, observing her fellow group members with a mix of admiration and detachment.
Yui noticed Haruka's distant demeanour and decided to bridge the gap. She approached with a bright smile, her presence almost magnetic.
"Shizuku-san, can I talk to you for a second?" Yui asked, pulling up a chair beside her.
Haruka looked up, offering a polite smile. "Of course, Yui-san."
Yui leaned in slightly, her expression softening. "You've been working so hard lately. How are you holding up?"
Haruka hesitated, her fingers stilling on the notepad. "I'm fine, Yui-san. Just focused on the music."
Yui wasn't easily deterred. "I know you're always busy, but if you ever need to talk or take a break, I'm here."
Haruka felt a flicker of gratitude but quickly suppressed it. "Thank you, Yui-san. I appreciate it."
Yui nodded, sensing there was more beneath Haruka's reserved exterior. "Anytime."
With that, Yui returned to her rehearsals, leaving Haruka to ponder the interaction. It was rare for her to let others see even a glimpse of her true self, and she wasn't sure she was ready to let anyone in.
As the afternoon sun began to wane, Haruka found herself unable to focus on her compositions. Her mind kept drifting back to the fleeting apparition of Shizuku. She decided to take a short break, hoping to clear her thoughts.
She wandered into the small lounge area at the back of the studio, a cozy space with plush chairs and a bookshelf filled with music theory texts and old magazines. She sank into a chair, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Without warning, her phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from Koji, the producer.
"Meeting with Aqua Notes at 3 PM. Let's finalize the arrangements."
Haruka sighed, rubbing her temples. The day was slipping away, and she still felt far from accomplished. She glanced around the lounge, searching for something to distract her, but the room remained quiet and still.
Her gaze fell upon a framed photograph on the shelf. It was a picture of her and Shizuku as children, smiling and carefree, holding hands beneath the very tree where they had made their promise. Haruka felt a surge of emotion, her resolve wavering.
We promised to achieve our dreams together, she thought. I have to keep that promise.
With renewed determination, Haruka returned to her desk and began to play a new melody. This one was different—more personal, infused with the memories and emotions she had long kept hidden. The notes flowed naturally, a testament to her unresolved feelings and the lingering presence of her sister.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue across the studio, Haruka finally felt a sense of accomplishment. She had composed a piece that felt authentic, a melody that resonated with both her and Shizuku's shared dreams.
She leaned back in her chair, allowing herself a rare moment of satisfaction. "This one is for you, Shizuku," she whispered, her voice filled with both sorrow and hope.
Koji arrived shortly after, his usual calm demeanour unaffected by the day's events. He listened intently as Haruka played the new composition, nodding in approval.
"This is beautiful, Shizuku-san. It captures the essence of what Aqua Notes represents—hope, unity, and strength," Koji remarked, his eyes meeting Haruka's for a fleeting second.
Haruka offered a small smile. "Thank you, Koji-san. I'm glad you think so."
Koji glanced around the studio, sensing something different about Haruka today. "You've outdone yourself. I think this song will resonate deeply with the fans."
Haruka nodded, her mind still swirling with thoughts of her sister. "I hope so."
As the evening settled in, Haruka decided to stay a little longer to fine-tune the arrangements. The studio was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the city outside. She was lost in her work when a knock on the door interrupted her concentration.
"Who is it?" she called out, her voice wary.
"It's Yui-san," came the reply from the other side.
Haruka opened the door to find Yui standing there, holding a small box wrapped in shiny paper. Yui's bright smile was as radiant as ever, but there was a hint of nervousness in her eyes.
"I thought you might like this," Yui said, extending the box to Haruka. "It's a little something for your birthday."
Haruka took the box, her fingers brushing against Yui's. "Thank you, Yui-san. That's very kind of you."
Yui tilted her head, studying Haruka for a moment before stepping aside to let her in. "I know it's your birthday today. I wanted to do something special."
Haruka felt a warmth spread through her, a rare feeling of appreciation. She took the box and placed it on the table, watching as Yui returned to her spot with the rest of the group.
Later that night, after the studio had emptied and the city lights flickered in the darkness, Haruka sat alone in her apartment once more. She carefully unwrapped the box Yui had given her, revealing a delicate silver necklace with a small pendant shaped like a treble clef—a subtle nod to her career as a composer.
Attached to the box was a handwritten note:
"Happy Birthday, Shizuku-san. Thank you for everything you do. - Yui"
Haruka felt tears welling up in her eyes as she held the necklace. It was a simple gesture, but it carried immense meaning. Yui had reached out, bridging the gap she had carefully maintained.
She clasped the necklace around her neck, the cool metal resting against her skin. For the first time in years, Haruka felt a flicker of connection—not just to her sister, but to the people around her who cared in their own ways.
Unable to contain her emotions, Haruka decided to revisit the tree where she and Shizuku had made their childhood promise. It had been years since she had been back, but the memory was vivid in her mind.
The next morning, Haruka took a day off from composing, an uncommon decision for her. She grabbed a light jacket and made her way to the outskirts of the city, where the old tree still stood—majestic and resilient, much like the dreams she and Shizuku had nurtured.
As she approached, the sight of the tree brought a flood of memories. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze, whispering secrets only she could hear. Haruka sat down beneath its expansive branches, the ground cool beneath her.
"Shizuku," she called out softly, her voice carrying the weight of years gone by. "It's been a while."
She closed her eyes, feeling the presence of her sister as if she were truly there. The memories of their laughter, shared dreams, and that tragic day when Shizuku had given her life to protect Haruka surged forth.
I never got to thank you, Haruka thought. I never got to help you live your dream.
A single tear escaped her eye, tracing a path down her cheek. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more, Shizuku. I'm still doing this for you, but maybe it's time to find my own way too."
As Haruka sat in silence, a sense of clarity began to emerge. She had been so consumed by her dedication to her sister's dream that she had neglected her own desires and aspirations. The burden of living up to Shizuku's memory had overshadowed who she truly was.
A rustling sound broke the stillness, and Haruka opened her eyes to see a small bird perched on a nearby branch, its vibrant feathers catching the sunlight. It chirped melodiously, as if offering a message of hope.
Haruka smiled through her tears, feeling a newfound sense of determination. She realized that honouring her sister didn't mean losing herself in the process. She could continue to compose, yet also explore other facets of her identity that had long been suppressed.
I need to live for both of us, she whispered, the weight of the decision lifting off her shoulders. I need to find my own happiness too.
With her heart lighter, Haruka made her way back to the studio, her steps more confident than they had been in years. The familiar environment greeted her, but today, it felt different—full of possibilities rather than obligations.
She found Yui and the rest of Aqua Notes in the main rehearsal area, already preparing for the evening's recording session. Yui spotted her and waved, her smile as bright as ever.
"Welcome back, Shizuku-san! Ready for another great day?"
Haruka nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude. "Yes, Yui-san. Let's get started."
As the day progressed, Haruka felt a renewed sense of purpose. She approached her compositions with a fresh perspective, blending her own emotions with the melodies she created for the group. The music felt more authentic, infused with her personal journey towards healing and self-discovery.
By late afternoon, Haruka had started working on a new piece—a fusion of classical piano and contemporary pop elements. The song was different from her usual compositions, reflecting her evolving identity. It was a testament to her resilience and her ability to honour her sister while forging her own path.
Yui approached her once more, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Shizuku-san, what are you working on? It sounds amazing."
Haruka glanced up, a hint of pride in her eyes. "It's a new composition. I wanted to try something different."
Yui listened intently as Haruka played a snippet of the melody, her feet tapping to the rhythm. "It's beautiful. It has a unique energy to it. Maybe we can incorporate it into our next performance."
Haruka felt a sense of accomplishment. "I'd like that."
As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the studio, Koji approached Haruka with a thoughtful expression.
"Shizuku-san, I've been thinking," he began, his voice steady. "You've been doing exceptional work lately, both in composing and with your new compositions. I have a proposal for you."
Haruka looked up, curiosity piqued. "What is it, Koji-san?"
He handed her a formal document. "Aqua Notes is planning a special anniversary concert next year. We want to celebrate not just our success, but also the collaborative spirit that has made us who we are. We'd like you to not only compose but also perform at the event."
Haruka blinked, surprised by the offer. "Perform? Me?"
Koji nodded. "Yes. We believe it would add a personal touch to the concert, bridging the gap between our music and the stories behind them. You have a unique connection to Aqua Notes, and we think it would be meaningful."
Haruka felt a mixture of emotions—excitement, fear, and uncertainty. Performing was something she had never considered, always staying behind the scenes. But the idea resonated with her newfound determination to embrace both her roles.
"I need some time to think about it," she replied thoughtfully.
Koji smiled reassuringly. "Take all the time you need. We believe in your talent, Shizuku-san, in every aspect of it."
As Koji walked away, Haruka sat back, contemplating the proposal. The thought of performing stirred something deep within her, a desire to step out from the shadows and fully embrace her identity.
That night, Haruka couldn't sleep. She lay in bed, the silver necklace resting against her chest, a symbol of both her past and her future. The decision weighed heavily on her, but deep down, she knew what she had to do.
She would accept Koji's proposal. It was a step towards honouring her sister's memory while also embracing her own dreams. Performing wasn't just about fame or recognition—it was about connecting with others, sharing her story through music and presence.
With a sense of purpose, Haruka made her way to her piano once more. She began to play, the notes flowing effortlessly, blending her sorrow with hope. This new melody was a promise to herself and to Shizuku—a vow to live fully, embracing both her roles as a composer and now, as a performer.
As Haruka continued to compose, her mind was filled with possibilities. The path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in years, she felt ready to navigate it. She wasn't alone—Yui and the rest of Aqua Notes were there to support her, and her sister's spirit was a guiding presence, urging her towards a brighter future.
The tree of promise stood as a silent witness to her journey, its branches reaching towards the sky, much like Haruka's aspirations. The shadows of the past were still present, but they no longer held her captive. Instead, they fuelled her determination to create music that was both personal and universal, a bridge between her own experiences and the hearts of those who listened.
Haruka knew the road ahead would be challenging, filled with moments of doubt and triumph. But with each step, she moved closer to fulfilling not just Shizuku's dream, but her own as well. And in doing so, she found a sense of peace she had long thought unattainable.
As midnight approached, Haruka finally put aside her composing for the night. She stood by the window, gazing out at the city lights that shimmered like stars below. The gentle breeze carried the sounds of the night, a soothing melody that echoed the music she had created.
She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her decision settle within her. Tomorrow would be the day she officially accepted Koji's proposal, stepping into a new chapter of her life. It was a leap of faith, but one she felt ready to take.
"Thank you, Shizuku," she whispered to the empty room. "For everything."
With that, Haruka turned off the lights, the room falling into darkness. She knew the journey ahead would be transformative, not just for her career, but for her very soul. And as she drifted into sleep, the melody of her new song played softly in her mind—a harmonious blend of past and future, sorrow and hope.