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It’s a typical Tuesday afternoon when Nene goes over to Rui’s house to finally pick up the little robot. She can still hardly believe that he’d done this at all. It’s so like him, really – ridiculous, crazy, and so thoughtful it makes her heart hurt. Who goes out of their way to build a robot for someone else, free of charge, just to help them circumvent their crippling stage fright?
Nobody sane, that’s for sure.
When Rui passes over the robot’s controller, charger, and extra battery pack, he also hands her a paper bag. Nene eyes it suspiciously.
“... What’s that?”
“A gift.” He pushes it toward her. “Go on. Take it.”
She doesn’t. “It’s not gonna explode in my face, is it?”
He turns wounded eyes on her. “Of course not. Is that what you think of me?”
She’s not fooled by the crocodile tears. “Then tell me what it is first.”
Rui drops the act and goes back to smiling down at her. “It’s exactly what I said: a gift.” His eyes soften. “I think you’ll like it.”
Nene frowns some more, then carefully takes the bag from his hand. True to his word, it doesn’t explode in her face. She peers down into it, then blinks in confusion. It couldn’t be… could it? She reaches into the bag and pulls out the item that had caught her attention.
It’s a dress. Or is it? It’s frankly a little too showy to be called a simple dress. With all the flouncy ruffles, oversized bows, and flashy (yet tasteful) colors, it’s not exactly something most people would wear.
But a stage performer might.
Another quick peek inside the bag reveals a matching headband, leg warmers, and even a pair of shoes. It’s a whole, complete stage outfit.
Nene swallows hard and lowers the costume. Rui watches her, face deceptively blank. “... Why?”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “A friend of mine volunteered to help design the robot’s outfit, and I asked them to make a matching set for you.”
“No.” It comes out more forcefully than she’d expected. “ Why? ”
His smile doesn’t falter. “I thought it might be something you’d like to have. Just in case.”
Nene doesn’t think she can speak past the lump in her throat without crying, so she settles for glaring up at him instead. Rui continues to smile serenely at her, entirely unbothered. They stand like that for a few moments longer in silence, both seeing past the other’s façade, until Nene finally takes a deep breath and hands the bag back to him.
“I’m not taking this.”
He doesn’t move. “You don’t have to use it now if you don’t want to. But you might need it eventually. It’s best to be prepared.”
She grits her teeth. “I’m never going to need this, Rui.”
To her immense surprise, his smile drops, and he finally grows serious. But when he speaks, his voice is still as calm and pleasant as ever. “Then take it for me. Consider it a favor for your childhood friend.”
His words cut deep and precise, like a scalpel. What is she supposed to say in response to that ? Nene lowers her arm and scowls at the ground. It’s so unfair.
“... Fine. But you know I’m never going to wear this, right?”
Rui’s shoulders relax a little, and he chuckles. “Perhaps. But you never know.” He smiles softly, eyes dancing. “Thank you, Nene.”
She huffs, embarrassed by his candid display of gratitude. Why is he the one thanking her? Shouldn't the roles be reversed here? It makes no sense.
“... Whatever.”
* * *
It’s not until she’s back in the privacy of her room, and after she plugs in the robot to charge, that Nene turns her attention back to the paper bag. Even just looking at it now dredges up all the complicated and muddled feelings from earlier in the afternoon. She kneels down to pull out the costume again, and holds it up for another round of scrutiny.
She has to admit that it’s masterfully crafted. Someone with a good eye for fashion (in other words, someone who’s not Rui) put a lot of care and attention into selecting the colors and fabrics. The stitches are even and practically invisible. Every button is sewn carefully into place. There’s not a single stray thread in sight.
It’s kinda nice.
Suddenly, she gets the inexplicable urge to try it on. She changes into it quickly, doing up the buttons and tying the bow at her neck before she can convince herself that she’s being silly. She even puts on the rest of the outfit, pulling on the leg warmers and shoes, and finishing everything off with the headband in her hair. Once she’s done, she smooths down the dress over her legs and fixes her hair a little, then raises her eyes to look at herself in her full-length mirror, and –
Nene blinks.
Oh.
Oh, it’s… pretty.
She turns a little to catch a glimpse of the back. It fits perfectly. She turns the other way, and whoa, the way the skirt swishes against her legs feels really nice. It’s different from the stiff material her school uniform skirt is made of; this is a skirt that’s meant to catch light and motion and attention. She does a little twirl, reveling in how the fabric flares out around her thighs.
If she closes her eyes, she can almost imagine herself standing in the center of a stage, can almost smell and feel the heat of the spotlights locked onto her. Every eye in the audience would be fixed on her, utterly captivated as she leads them all into a brand new world with just the power of her voice. Still with her eyes closed, Nene raises her arms as the imagined climax of the song approaches. The music is swelling, the audience is growing more excited, and she feels herself smile wider and wider. They give her a standing ovation, because of course they do, and the cheers and whistles last for minutes. She basks in the glory, and finally opens her eyes to look at herself in the mirror once again, and –
She looks dumb.
Her arms flop back down to her sides. All traces of her imagined scene vanish in an instant as the reality sinks in. She’s not a fabulous diva singing for an enraptured audience. She’s just a girl playing dress up in front of her mirror.
A hopeless girl who can’t seem to let go of a dead dream.
She fights back angry tears as she takes it all off, all the while silently cursing Rui’s infuriating kindness. She might need it eventually? It’s best to be prepared?
Yeah, right.
She haphazardly stuffs the costume back into the paper bag and shoves it into the deepest corner of her closet, burying it and her dream far out of sight.
* * *
A few weeks later, she digs it up again. In all that time, no matter how much she’d tried to forget it, her mind keeps going back to that corner of her closet where she’d buried her dream, hoping that this time around, she’ll have killed it successfully.
But it turns out, it’s still alive. It’s wrinkled and a little dusty from improper storage, but it’s still as vibrant and beautiful as she remembers it.
Nene pulls out the costume and shakes it out, then takes a moment to just stare at it again in silence. To think that this had all started with Rui’s meddlesome ways, and now it’s come full circle back to him. Could he have known, when he’d told her that she might need this someday, how true those words would turn out to be?
And now she’s getting a chance to wear this onstage. Of course, she wishes it wasn’t on the other side of such a catastrophic fight; it could’ve spared everyone a lot of tears and heartache. But she’s getting a second (or maybe at this point it’s the third) chance at her dream. Does she deserve it? Probably not.
But is she taking it? Hell yes.
When Rui had first handed her the paper bag, she hadn’t been very appreciative of him back then, thinking that he was deliberately picking at her wounds. She’d been too hurt and petty to remember that he’s too kind to ever do such a thing.
Nene takes a deep breath and holds the dress to her chest. Frankly, she doesn’t know if Tsukasa’s idea will work. And the mere thought of stepping foot on stage again makes her hands and knees shake uncontrollably. But she’s always been just on the receiving end of Rui’s kindness, and it’s frustrating that she’s never been able to do anything for him. So she’s not about to waste this opportunity to thank him properly and get all these feelings – these messy, complicated, wonderful feelings – across to him.
But first, before anything else – this costume is in desperate need of some TLC.
Nene sticks her head out of her bedroom and calls loudly down the stairs, “Mom? Where’s the iron?”
* * *
Mere minutes before it’s time for her to enter from stage right, Nene stands in the wings of the stage, fidgeting with her costume and trying her best to hide just how badly she’s shaking all over.
So far, the plan has gone smoothly – Rui had been successfully lured back into the SEKAI, the VIRTUAL SINGERs had already set up the stage for the performance, and everyone’s waiting in their positions for Miku to begin her opening narration. It’s perfect; almost too perfect, she thinks. She’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, because nothing ever goes perfectly to plan. No matter how much you practice and rehearse and try to prepare for mistakes, something always gets screwed up.
She should know better than anyone by now.
A tap on her shoulder jolts her out of her thoughts. Nene jumps and whirls around, to find Emu beaming brightly at her.
“E… Emu…”
Emu leans in closer as she excitedly whispers, “Are you ready, Nene-chan?” She’s practically bouncing in place, her eagerness barely contained.
Nene swallows nervously, aware of how dry her mouth has become. “Um… I-I…” Suddenly, she wants to be anywhere but here.
But before she can decide to dip out and pull a vanishing act, Emu bounds over to the curtains and pokes her head out from behind them, not even trying to stay hidden. She visibly perks up, then turns back and waves Nene over. “Nene-chan! Look!”
Somehow, Nene manages to keep from falling over as she stumbles her way to Emu’s side. She peers out carefully, doing her best to stay as hidden as possible, and looks out at where Emu’s finger is pointing at the singular tall figure sitting in the audience seats.
“It’s Rui-kun!”
Nene resists the urge to roll her eyes. Of course it’s Rui; who else would it be? This show is meant just for him, after all.
Oh.
That’s right.
This show is meant just for him.
She draws in a deep, shaky breath and lets it out slowly. “... You’re right, Emu. It’s Rui.”
She can’t afford to run away this time. After all, this show is for Rui. She has to do this – if not for herself, then at least for him.
She can do this. Maybe.
Emu squeezes her hands. “Let’s have a wonderhoy time out there, okay, Nene-chan?” She punctuates her sentence with another brilliant smile.
Nene manages a weak smile back. “Y… yeah.” She glances back out at the seated figure. The lights shining on the stage are way too bright, and he’s too far to make out what expression he’s wearing on his face.
She just hopes that he’ll be wearing a smile by the end of their performance.
Suddenly, the lights onstage dim, signaling the start of the show. Emu strangles Nene’s hands with her own in a death grip. “We’re starting!”
Nene’s heart kicks up in earnest. She can’t hear Miku’s opening lines over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears, can’t see beyond the edge of the curtains separating her from the stage, can’t even feel her fingers getting crushed by Emu. Her breath starts coming out in short gasps.
She’s scared. She’s so scared.
But this isn’t going to end up like middle school. There’s more at stake this time, and honestly, that should scare her more. But she has Emu and Tsukasa with her, and Miku and Kaito, too. And Rui, the one who’d started all of this in the first place, is waiting on the other end of that stage.
And so, here she goes – who’s to say whether this will end in a crash and burn, or a swoop and soar?
As Miku recites the line that cues her entrance, Nene takes one last breath, spreads her wings, and steps out into the air.
* * *
“... I… I wonder if I, too, can sing…!”
* * *
Rui’s eyes widen at the sight of her, glowing in the light of the spotlight. She’s wearing the outfit. He’d always trusted in Mizuki’s handiwork, but this… this is beyond words.
She’s breathtaking. More than he ever could’ve imagined.
* * *
It's a shame that butterflies will never know how beautiful their own wings are.