The extra story from the fourth novel, “Ensemble Stars! May This Singing Voice Reach the Heavens”, narrated by the friend of the transfer student
Crosstalk
In the end, I couldn’t talk with her, huh?
Perhaps it couldn’t have been helped; it just means this isn’t the right time yet. Or it might mean that girl and I would never cross paths for the second time, maaybe? We’re not family. And of course, we’re not lovers. Perhaps we weren’t even friends – I may have no right to call myself her friend.
All we did was share a brief moment together like a miracle — enjoyed, a youth together. Maybe what we had was a feeble relationship, that would just be forgotten once we become adults.
But still. It’s a little lonely, after all.
I am glad, though. I could see her face, even if just for a little. That girl might not realize it herself, but she was wearing such a good, fulfilled expression on her. Laughed, cried – crumpled that cute face of hers to her fill… even though she had been such a silent, expressionless girl who rarely showed off her individuality.
She was able to release her true face.
She’s enjoying her youth in full speed.
That’s great.
I don’t resent her a single bit. For leaving us behind, betraying us to be happy all on her own—I guess if I say I’ve never thought of that even just once, that’d be a lie.
But compared to having everyone end up unhappy. Compared to having all the flowers stepped on, plucked from their roots, leaving only a desert where not even grasses grow… Compared to such a hopeless end—
I know I prefer seeing at least you alone become happy.
I wonder why she transferred… Why she disappeared from before us without leaving a single word. I still haven’t figured it out. I considered asking, but looking at her surrounded by a sight out of a dream I thought, maaybe it would be tasteless to pour cold water into that new life.
I mean, flowers won’t bloom if you pour too much water, right?
“Hey, hey. Are you okay~?”
Right outside of Yumenosaki Academy’s auditorium. Next to a booth where tickets are checked and a lineup of goods are sold, I tilt my head to the side, mouthing a troubled hum.
With the audience repeatedly calling for encore, singing voices continue to reverberate endlessly. It seems they’re called “Trickstar” – the group of boys that girl has apparently formed a precious bond with; they’re performing to their fill.
Their melody has completely stuck onto my ears.
This is the ensemble that girl has found in Yumenosaki Academy. This is a story from a far and different world, that I have no right in participating; but I’ve been able to contact just a tiny fragment of it.
I’ve successfully confirmed that girl is smiling here.
I was about to satisfy myself with that result and go home for the day to rest in bed, but…
“I wonder what’s wrong? Anemia, maaybe…?”
On that merchandise booth, there’s a boy leaning on a pipe chair unmoving like a marionette with his strings cut off. I think he’s fainted. I would’ve left him alone if he was just having a relaxed nap; in fact, it would’ve been terrible of me to interrupt him in the middle of his rest, but… this kind of smells serious.
I think he’s more passed out than sleeping.
He might’ve lost consciousness out of nowhere, because the desk has collapsed from the impact of his own fall, messing the goods all over the place… it’s like there’s just been a robbery. Actually, maybe there was a robbery. This smells like a case, and I’d rather not get involved.
Yet I can’t just leave him be.
“Ooi? Are you alive~?”
I crouch down and shake the boy. I’m not particularly against touching a member of the opposite sex—but it’s certainly been a while, so it kinda feels funny. Was this how boys feel like? He’s kind of needlessly bony or more like… he’s so thin I feel he hasn’t been eating properly.
Hair like the wet feathers of a crow. The Yumenosaki uniform he wears is worn down all over the place.
He’s a beautiful boy. Maaybe this boy’s an idol too? Yumenosaki Academy is a vocational school specializing in raising male idols, from the story. It’s just neighbor from my school, but the Idol Course is particularly strict with security… you can’t get close to it carelessly so I don’t know it well.
So close yet so far. That’s why we didn’t notice how close that girl had actually been. She had transferred without saying anything to anyone—so I thought she’d gone somewhere faraway, beyond our arms’ reach.
Even today, I had spotted her by complete chance. I’ve become estranged from the close friends I had back when she was still around — because, something really sad happened. But I get lonely when I have no one around, so I keep lots of acquaintances.
And friends too, lots of them. One of them loves idols, so she visits Yumenosaki quite often – and I just joined in her the spur of the moment. Bringing acquaintances and friends along, we came to make a ruckus and enliven the place.
I like that sort of thing. Because without recoloring it all with fun, with foolish enough racket, I feel I won’t be able to hide that heavy pain we all experienced.
I form wide and shallow relationships like an escape. I laugh for everyone else’s share too, guide myself to happiness, and continue to acclaim high and loud how wonderful life is – even if that’s just what I forced myself to believe.
And to think there’s a girl who can never smile for the second time too.
Hey, that’s why I’m a traitor like you.
I can’t call myself your friend anymore, can I?
But you know. I wanted to be useful, even if just a little. I wanted to help you smile. That’s why I cheered for you all the way. You, as you danced and sang hiding your face behind a mask. As always, you squash yourself into nothing, acting the part of a supporting role or even a prop — yet behind that, you continue to help people.
I want to support you, even if just a little. You made me want to cheer for you.
I’m glad it went somewhat well. Sure, I know I might not have made such huge change—I’m always that way. But I want to think it’s better than having done nothing at all. I don’t mind even if you don’t notice, even if I don’t get anything from this.
I loved you. You were my precious friend.
No… always and forever, I shouldn’t make the friendship that should’ve existed between us, the youth we experienced together — sound like they never existed, should I? Those brilliant days I spent with you were precious to me, so I returned the favor. As proof of my friendship with you, I helped you.
And now with that deed of self-satisfaction as my pillow, I’m going to return to the place I belong.
“What are you doing there?”
A deep voice, like a pipe organ, intervenes.
I look up in my surprise, to suddenly find someone standing nearby. I personally find his features mature. He’s tall, and I think I wouldn’t have guessed he’s around my age had it not been for that sea blue Yumenosaki uniform he wears…
His slit eyes are terribly sexy, like a male role in a Takarazuka play. His hair is like a batch of first-class feathers, cut and styled short. Despite being tall, he’s less oppressive and more—delicate, he really makes you want to hug him. And for some reason, he’s holding a lovely antique doll on one hand.
It’s curious to see a man carrying a doll around, but Yumenosaki today is quite festive; there are lots of people in fancy costumes and idol outfits running around… so I don’t find it particularly strange.
That curious man is glaring at me quite harshly. Without saying a word. All the while feeling uneasy, I still look up to him with a smile.
Unexpectedly enough, no matter how scary one may seem, as long as they’re human like you and me, they’d respond the gesture if you address them with a smile. Because no one would have the heart to throw an innocent baby to the ground.
Yes, that’s how I’ve lived. While wearing a stupid grin. Endearing myself to people and clinging onto their pity.
I’ve had people threaten me to not pretend the cute girl. Had cruel things done to me too—but this is the single weapon I, who can’t do much of anything, have learned to use.
In order to live on.
“Umm, hello. Could you maaybe know this boy? As you see… he’s passed out here! I wonder what’s wrong… is he okay, maaybe? I’m worried!”
“Hehe. It’s okay, I think it’s just anemia. Mika-chan… that’s this boy’s name—he doesn’t eat a lot. It seems he’s been working part-time the whole day too; he seems to have passed out from the exhaustion and lack of nutrition. Geez, what a troublesome boy~”
Hmm? I think this man just spoke in a strangely high voice without moving his mouth?
What’s this, ventriloquism…?
I watch the tall man curiously, when he lifts up the boy called Mika-chan (it sounds a little too adorable a name for a boy… is it his nickname, maaybe?) as if the other doesn’t weigh much, with just a single arm. He effortlessly holds the boy and walks away.
He’s just like a kind father giving his sleeping son a piggyback home.
“Excuse me… should I help you carry him?”
I call out to the man’s back in unintended polite language—and he turns around.
“I can carry him all by myself, so your concern is unnecessary… You came here to watch the live, didn’t you? That vulgar comedy drama without a tint of artistic value? Then you should pay no mind to us, and just head back to the auditorium. Apologies. It seems we’ve ended up taking your time.”
“Mm… not at all, maaybe? It’s just natural to be worried over someone who’s passed out… and I’m just about to go home, anyway. My house is far, so I commute with train—if I miss the scheduled train, maaybe I won’t be able to go home.”
It’s still April. The year’s just changing, and it’s been a little busy around me. My friends who came with me are still watching the live, but I turned them down to go home on my own. If possible, I wish I could enjoy more of the singing voice of that group “Trickstar”, that that girl is related to.
But I started feeling kind of blue… and the friends I came with, they weren’t the sort I’d stick with around the clock—I think, I’ve had enough of that, actually.
Getting too deeply involved just makes the wound of separation graver.
I’m weak, so I can’t stand something like that for the second time.
“Umm, I think it’s called a merchandise booth, maaybe? Is it okay to leave it empty? There’s a cash register and everything… the money inside might get stolen?”
I follow after the man who heads to the gate, calling out to him as I too walk to exit the place. The man appears irritated; without looking back, he indifferently murmurs,
“Like I care. The patrolling student council members should notice and deal with it soon. In the first place, there should be other kids besides Kagehira attending the place—so if it’s empty, it must mean they’ve abandoned their job to peek at the live in the auditorium. As if I can stand seeing my Kagehira being worked around for what such kids should be paid for. They’re certainly cheeky for a bunch of vulgar fools.”
“Hmm… I don’t really get it, but you seem to cherish that boy a lot~”
“Hmph. If there’s a doll threatening to jump into a puddle of mud by itself, is it not the duty of the owner to retrieve it by the nape of its neck?”
“Doll? Ah, that doll of yours is really cute! What’s her name?”
“Mademoiselle. Hmph, she is, is she not? She is certainly the cutest.”
While we’ve started weaving a normal, casual chat somehow, the fainted boy named “Mika-chan” lets out a unique moan like a crow’s cry, as his eyes blink open.
“Nggha, huh? Oshi-san, why’re ya ‘ere…?”
Seeing his eyes, I’m a little taken aback. Each of his eyeballs are of different color. I think it’s called odd-eye?—I’ve heard there’s a different name for when the phenomenon occurs in humans.
Among my precious friends, there’s also one with similar eyes. She’s been in low spirits and prone to shutting herself in now, so I haven’t seen her face in a while. But it’s a pretty rare phenomenon, so I hadn’t thought there’d be another one with the same condition—I end up staring at him hard.
Noticing my stare, the man called Oshi-san mutters in a low voice,
“Try not to stare at him too much. Kagehira hates that—and it scares him.”
“Ah, okay. You see, I have a friend with eyes like that too. And well, that girl~ She hates it too, when people look at her eyes. They’re so pretty though! Don’t you think so too, maaybe? Oshi-san?”
“I don’t believe we’re related in any form that’d make you call me Oshi-san. Actually, why are you following us? Do you not care for the concert?”
“I was thinking to go home too, maaybe~? There was someone I’d like to meet—but she seemed really busy, so maaybe I shouldn’t force it. I guess… it’s okay.”
After I tell him so in a dejected voice, Oshi-san seems like he’s about to say something, when—
A shout strikes me from behind.
Startled, I turn around.
On the exit of the auditorium we’ve moved a slight distance from—the huge door that’s been closed due to the concert opens just a bit, and that girl shows her face. The girl who was once my friend.
In my shock, I stand still, unable to even call for her name. Meanwhile, Oshi-san and Mika-chan—the curious pair melts into the darkness of the night and vanishes. What a wondrous duo; I wish I could’ve talked to them more, but more than that—
Right now, I smile to that girl who’s running up to me, panting heavily.
“Umm, hey, it’s been a while~ Or maaybe it hasn’t been that long?”
Without replying, that girl rushes up to me and embraces me.
Whoa—I nearly fall from that, so I hold my ground by clinging onto the lamp post nearby. She’s as unexpectedly funky in her actions, as always. Cute.
As I watch her in nostalgia, she bursts into huge globs of tears. Gasping, trying to say so many things but failing to say anything, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly. She’s really bad at talking.
Even though that’s the sort of girl you are—you danced in front of a huge crowd for the sake of your comrades, the friends you’ve discovered here. Wearing a mask, unmindful to those who think of you as a clown.
You, who typically try to act cool… Wasn’t that, maaybe, a wonderful thing?
All the while sobbing, she begins babbling in incoherent sentences;
She thanks me for cheering on her with my friends. Even though she feels she doesn’t have the face to talk to me—even despite that, she’s come to meet me, prepared to be scorned.
She’s searched all over for me and stopped me at the very end—and apologized.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, she repeats… You shouldn’t have to apologize to someone like me. Isn’t today supposedly a day to celebrate?
I want you to smile—you know, I really loove your smile.
Thinking that, I pat her head. I hold her close, sharing my warmth.
But, it doesn’t seem like she’s trying to relieve herself of her burdens by apologizing—it’s like she’s trying to hurt herself, piercing herself with knives. Self-punishment. Self-harm. And I can’t stand to see that, so I shout at the top of my lungs like an idiot:
“Today was suuuch a blast! That concert really moved me!”
I tell her, then I hold her for one last time, before parting.
I wish you’d forget all about the past and just move forward.
“Thanks a lot,”
I say. While I feel sorry for her, I tear her away from me and step back. I turn my back on her and head to the gate. I’ll head to my place to return.
So you should too.
“Let’s catch up again sometimes, maaybe. You haven’t changed your numbers, right?”
I try to confirm that just in case, and she nods her head so many times I start feeling sorry.
You could’ve afforded to be more arrogant. I don’t really get it, but you’ve become a ‘producer’, haven’t you? Someone who protects idols, supports and guides them…
So you should wipe your tears, and wear a tough, strong and beautiful smile, that’s just like you.
Do your best. No… enjoy your youth. I’ll do that too.
“See you later.”
I wave my hand and say my good bye. I have to go back to that close yet far place we belong.
You know, if our paths could intersect by coincidence like today—
If we could meet sometimes and exchange words and share laughs, that’d be great.
As I think that, I walk without looking back. Partings are always so hard and painful and unbearable. But I know we can meet again as long as we’re alive. I believe we can.
So you know. I’m sure there’s no need to worry about anything.
For just one last time, I turn around and smile.
She, too, frantically rubs her eyes and forces herself to respond with a smile.
Goodbye.
See you later.
Thank you.
Translator’s Note: Going by her verbal tic of ～かなって, her personality and backstory, the unnamed narrator is presumably Yakumo Chizuru. Being the Vice President of the Theater Club, she’s the close friend of Konan Yako, who acts as the President. As a first year, she tagged along Yako who planned to revolutionize the school and met Anzu and Suzu along the way- they’re called 問題児 (mondaiji; problem children/troublemakers) together. The “Paradise” event also revealed some of her backstory she spoke of here.