Haruka spent the next few days in a daze, the weight of Koji's words pressing down on her like a heavy fog. She tried to focus on her music, to pour her emotions into the melodies that had once brought her solace. But every note felt tainted, each chord a reminder of her unfulfilled promises and unresolved guilt.
Despite the chaos in her mind, she continued her work with Aqua Notes, pushing through the rehearsals and studio sessions. Yui and the other idols rallied around her, their laughter ringing like bells in the air, but Haruka felt detached, as if she were watching life unfold from behind a glass wall. The energy she once drew from their camaraderie had become a distant memory, replaced by an overwhelming sense of dread.
Then, one afternoon, as she was packing up her things in the studio, a message from her mother appeared on her phone, jolting her from her thoughts. "Can we meet? We need to talk."
Haruka's heart raced. A meeting with her parents was the last thing she wanted. The pain of her past surged within her, rekindling old wounds. But she couldn't ignore the urgency in her mother's tone.
After a sleepless night, Haruka found herself seated in a small café across from her parents. The place was buzzing with conversation, but the noise faded into the background as she focused on the two people she had tried to forget.
Her mother, a slight woman with tired eyes and a nervous smile, fidgeted with the edge of the tablecloth. Her father, a man who had once towered over her, now looked small and fragile, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. They seemed so different from the last time she had seen them, their authoritative demeanor diminished, replaced by an air of vulnerability.
"Haruka," her mother began, her voice trembling. "Thank you for meeting us."
Haruka forced herself to nod, her throat tight. "What do you want?"
"Please, just listen," her father urged, his voice low and shaky. "We owe you an explanation. We've thought about this for a long time, and we can't keep hiding the truth."
She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms defensively. "You've already hurt me. What more could you possibly say that would make it better?"
Her mother exchanged a glance with her father, and for a moment, the weight of unspoken regrets hung heavy in the air. "We know we were wrong," her mother said softly. "We didn't protect you, and we didn't protect Shizuku. But we need you to understand what really happened."
Haruka's heart raced. The name Shizuku echoed painfully in her mind, a reminder of the dreams they had once shared and the horrors they had endured. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"After that night... after the accident, you were both so young," her father began, hesitating as if the memories were too painful to revisit. "You were traumatized, Haruka. We didn't know how to help you. In your mind, you changed the story. You made Shizuku your protector to cope with the fear."
"No," Haruka interrupted, shaking her head vehemently. "She saved me. I remember it clearly."
Her mother's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "What you remember is not the truth. Shizuku was your younger sister, Haruka. You're Nanami Haruka, not Shizuku. She looked out for you because she loved you, but it was always the other way around. You were the older sister in heart and spirit. You were supposed to be her protector."
The revelation struck Haruka like a physical blow, leaving her gasping for air. "No... that can't be true." The very foundation of her memories began to crumble, the truth crashing in like waves against a shore.
"It's true," her father pressed on, his voice steady but filled with anguish. "You changed your memories to make sense of the trauma, to cope with the loss. You can't keep running from this. It's tearing you apart."
Haruka's mind reeled. "But Shizuku... she was my anchor, my guiding light. How can I believe any of this?"
"Because you need to," her mother insisted. "You've been living a lie, Haruka. We never meant for any of this to happen, but the past is not going to stay buried. You need to confront it—so you can heal."
As the words hung in the air, the café faded away, leaving only the swirling chaos of her thoughts. All her life, she had believed herself to be Shizuku's protector, had wrapped her identity around that memory. But now, it felt as if she were watching the world slip away from her grasp.
"Why are you telling me this now?" Haruka whispered, her voice breaking. "Why did you come back?"
Her father leaned forward, desperation etched on his face. "Because we're terrified of losing you again, Haruka. You've built a life as Shizuku, and now it's all coming crashing down. We want to help you find the real you."
The pain in her heart intensified, a suffocating wave of guilt and confusion. Everything she had worked for, everything she had built, was based on a name that wasn't even hers. How could she keep going when the very essence of her identity felt like a fraud?
"I don't even know who I am," she admitted, tears spilling down her cheeks. "If I'm not Shizuku, then who am I?"
Her mother reached across the table, placing her hand over Haruka's. "You are Nanami Haruka. You are an incredible composer, and you have a voice that needs to be heard. You've been living for someone else's dream, and now it's time to honour your own."
The words echoed in Haruka's mind, reverberating through her heart. She had been so focused on fulfilling Shizuku's wishes that she had lost sight of her own.
The realization hit her like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the darkness that had enveloped her. She could no longer run from the truth. She had to confront it—had to face the reality of her past and let go of the guilt that had haunted her for so long.
But could she find the strength to do it?
With a newfound sense of determination, Haruka wiped away her tears and looked her parents in the eyes. "I need time to process this," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "But I will figure it out. I will find out who I am without Shizuku."
As she left the café, Haruka felt a flicker of hope amidst the chaos. It was time to unravel the threads of her past and weave together a new narrative—one that honoured her sister but also allowed her to step into her own light.
She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the world shift slightly. It wouldn't be easy, but for the first time in years, she believed she could begin to reclaim herself.