November 16th, Saturday.
Tomori had fought with everything she had to stay awake last night — holding out until she'd finished washing Chiose's hair and blow-drying it before finally passing out.
Not from the alcohol, mind you. She'd been so thorough and so careful washing Chiose in the bathtub that she'd accidentally soaked herself for two solid hours and gone under from sheer warmth.
"Mmph… mmm…"
Half-asleep, Tomori felt a pair of mischievous little hands prodding around her stomach.
At first she thought she was imagining it. Then the hands started migrating south with desperate, heat-seeking purpose, and she jolted wide awake.
"—! Chi— Chiose?!"
Yoshiiro Chiose, cheeks puffed out, was nowhere near awake. She was simply cold, and she was simply looking for something warm.
"Mmnn…"
Tomori couldn't stop her. She gave up and let Chiose have her way.
Just like a little kid… she's adorable like this, though. Am I being used as a hot water bottle?
Tomori stopped struggling and played the role of human hand-warmer in perfect silence, waiting patiently for Yoshiiro Chiose to come back to the land of the living.
"Mm? Tomori, good morning~"
Chiose shifted her body, pressing as close as she possibly could to her dear older sister.
When we were little, Tomori was always the one clinging to me. Now I'm in a different world with a different Tomori — and it's my own body doing the clinging.
Tomori, you're so cute. Gimme a squeeze!
Chiose had seen through Tomori's fake-sleeping act immediately, but had no intention of calling her out on it.
This grown-up Tomori — her figure was every bit as developed as Chiose's own. It was hard to imagine just how dramatic that evolution from the flat-as-a-board six-year-old to the twenty-six-year-old in front of her must have been.
"Heheh~ Tomori, can I squeeze your headlights? They look like they might actually flash~"
"—!!!"
"No you cannot—! Ugh…" Tomori's eyes flew open in an instant. Face burning red, she smacked away Chiose's triumphant offending hand.
As expected. Takamatsu Tomori is adorable.
Takamatsu Tomori was the cutest idiot in the world — cute enough to go head-to-head with Chiose's own little sister, Haizuka Kyoumoto.
...
"I really am a genius, you know! Tomori, come look at this new song I just freestyled in five seconds!"
"…?"
The living room of the Takamatsu apartment had been temporarily converted into a two-person conference room.
They'd agreed to perform on stage together, which meant it was time to get serious.
A two-person band: Tomori on lead vocals, Chiose on guitar — never mind that Tomori hadn't practiced singing in ages, or that Chiose had no idea how to play guitar. Details!
Just be brave and go for it. The point was to have fun, not to go viral overnight.
"I'm gonna sing now!"
"Go for it!"
Meeting Tomori's expectant gaze, Yoshiiro Chiose stopped hesitating and picked up her beloved little guitar.
A guitar she'd gone downstairs to wrangle out of the secondhand shop half an hour ago.
"Oni-slay the booze~ Smash it I'm wiped~ Oni-slay the booze yeah~ smash it I'm wiped~ so wiped~ so wiped~ so wiped~ so wiped~ so wiped so wiped so wiped~"
"????"
What a peculiar little ditty. Like a pebble being shoved into a penguin's eye socket to serve as an eyeball.
"Pfft — look at your dumb penguin face. Relax, I just scribbled that off the top of my head, don't overthink it."
Chiose poured a full measure of vodka into Tomori's little penguin mug, then tipped the bottle back and drank the rest straight.
"Listen~"
The alcohol burned going down but left a comfortable warmth behind. Tomori sipped from her mug in small, careful sips, listening attentively to Yoshiiro Chiose's voice.
"I'm thinking — since we're just a small two-person act right now, there's no rush to write our own songs, right? We can start by covering other people's stuff, then feel out when to start writing our own as we go!"
"That works! I… I do write some poetry, so lyrics might be something I could try too… though it's been years since I've written anything."
Ever since she'd started working, everything had lost its flavor.
Tomori couldn't even remember the last time she'd sat down with the notebook at home and just… written.
"Wait! Tomori's a creative type too?! Perfect — once our little group gets famous, I'll compose the music and you write the lyrics! We're going to be the hottest duo around!"
"I… I don't know about—"
Tomori felt lost staring at that kind of future. She'd promised Chiose she'd go on stage, but talking about all this felt so far away.
"Hey hey, don't stress, Tomori. We'll take it one step at a time."
Chiose drew one long, winding line across Tomori's beetle notebook.
"This line — this is the path of our [Parade]."
"Parade?"
"Our [Parade]! Our own private music [Parade]!"
"And look at this point right here!"
Chiose pressed down hard at the very start of the line.
"That's us, right now!"
She kept extending the line, drawing it further and further until it ran right off the edge of the page.
"And that's our future! I have no idea what it'll look like — but you can't see the road ahead until you actually start walking, right?!"
"I… I suppose so?"
"Yes! Absolutely yes!"
I'm not going to live long enough to see it anyway. So of course it's yes — I said it, didn't I?
Yoshiiro Chiose grinned her breezy grin, refilling Tomori's glass without missing a beat.
"Our little duo is officially formed as of today! I heard STARY gives you free drinks if you're a house act!"
"That's why you asked me to form a band with you, isn't it!!"
"Ehehe~?"
"What does 'ehehe' even mean?!"
The afternoon sunlight was just right, making Chiose's smile look even more adorable, and Tomori couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Pfft… Chiose, you look like such a goof right now."
"Do not. You're the goof, dummy Tomori."
If anything, Takamatsu Tomori is the biggest goof of all!
Chiose took a sip of her drink and gazed out the window at the clouds drifting lazily past, her mind still full of last night's poor little thing who'd cried and talked and cried some more about her past.
"Heheh~ I wonder who it was that got played by a blue-haired lady passing by~!"
"—!"
"And I wonder which particular dummy talked entirely in metaphors and allusions, telling stories and reading poetry like some kind of literary scholar."
"—!!"
"Not to mention — a certain someone would cry every other word she said, and if I hadn't swiped enough napkins from STARY, a certain little alcohol lamp would probably have wiped her tears on my shirt last night."
"—!!!"
"Chiose! That's— that's so mean!"
"Mean and proud of it, Tomori the Small-Fry Senpai!"
Chiose launched herself at Tomori and started tickling her sides relentlessly, her other hand simultaneously advancing on Tomori's armpit.
"Nnn— I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please— don't— stop—"
Heh. Takamatsu Tomori, you'd better just sit back and enjoy this while you can.
Chiose finally let Tomori go, and glanced up to find a large beetle clinging to the outside of the window.
Its eyes were a vivid, deep crimson. Mounted as a specimen, it would make an absolutely prized piece for any collection.
…The script needs to move faster.
"Tomori, let's keep drinking! We can take our sweet time and drink all day — and as for everything else—we'll worry about it later!"
"…Okay."
Pale golden beer poured into Tomori's glass. The foam that splashed up reflected in Chiose's eyes.
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