What's the very first word that springs to mind when you ponder the essence of 'freedom'?
Does it conjure up an image of relentless chains binding you, or does it sketch a vivid portrait of a precious objective worth chasing?
Deep down, I long to be unshackled from the burdens of regrets that cling relentlessly to my psyche.
As I step through the threshold of the house I take note that it's silent. Mr Hinahata walks in from behind me.
"Go rest up for a while, Asahi." He heads off upstairs leaving me standing in the open doorway.
I've avoided signing up for any clubs, each one failing to ignite even a flicker of interest within me. Making my way into the living room, I find Kei sprawled leisurely across the couch. Her elbow is draped over the backrest, and her hand supports her cheek, gazing at me with an unreadable expression that dances between curiosity and mischief. I settle onto the opposite side of the couch, the fabric cool against my skin.
"Did you have fun on your date with Airya?" She inquires, her voice laced with a teasing tone that sends a jolt through my thoughts.
Date????????
I feel my brain come to a screeching halt at her unexpected comment, gears grinding in confusion. "Well, we just walked around the school." I reply hesitantly, glancing down at my tired legs and giving them a gentle pat, attempting to muster a sheepish smile. "Honestly, I'm just relieved your dad was driving; otherwise, I'd still be stuck at that bus stop, listening to that Marissa song you were belting out in—"
I abruptly cut myself off, a vivid memory flashing before my eyes—a burst of recollections where I can almost see her silhouette, a fleeting glimpse of her animated performance. But then my mind drifts to the icy glare of the girl in question, and I vigorously shake my head, desperate to erase the thought.
"Uh, never mind that. Anyway, I still haven't joined any clubs. There are just too many options swirling around." I say, leaning back into the couch as I stare up at the ceiling, surrendering to a familiar habit of contemplation. "I've come to realize there are so many things I want to explore, but I'm not sure where to even start."
"Why not kick things off with what's easily available to you right now?" Kei suggests, her tone light and encouraging. I turn my head to study her more closely, curiosity sparked by her suggestion. She continues, "Like grabbin' a bite to eat or headin' to an arcade—activities you can dive into without needin' a certain day or time."
Her words tug at the corners of my lips, and I can't help but smile at the way she's shed her more serious demeanor, almost like she's shedding old skin in the comfort of her home. It feels special to be one of the select few who can appreciate the genuine lilt of her accent, emerging when she's truly at ease.
As I gaze back up at the ceiling, my eyes flutter shut for a moment, contemplating her suggestion. A few beats later, I open them and turn to Kei, a determined spark igniting within me. "Then I want to have udon."
Kei rises from the couch, the familiar sound of fabric rustling accompanying her movement as she makes her way toward the door that leads into the kitchen. "Let me see if we even have any udon stocked up." She calls back to me. Then, halting mid-stride, she spins around to face me with a roll of her eyes. "Oh, I left your Holograph 2.0 in your room. Don't forget it next time, or else you'll feel Mom's wrath."
In my frantic effort to evade Kei's wrath, I completely overlooked the tablet, a sudden wave of realization washing over me.
"I won't forget. Thanks, Kei." I assure her, relief flooding through me.
That night, I indulge in a lavish feast of steaming udon, the rich, savory noodles piled high on my plate, filling not just my stomach but also a deep-seated craving for comfort. I find myself drifting into a blissful state, the warm flavors saturating my senses, and I dare not think of the word 'udon' for a long while, savoring the moment of satisfaction.
***
I blinked once, then again, my mind grappling with the extraordinary scene unfolding before me. Was this a figment of my imagination, or was I really witnessing something so surreal?
It was an ordinary Friday afternoon, the sun's final rays streaming through the tall school windows, casting warm golden shadows on the floor as I made my way toward the library to download some books onto my Holograph 2.0.
As I drew nearer to the massive, ornate wooden door of the library, a melodic voice wafted through the air, captivating my attention. It started as a soft, familiar tune, gently spiraling into a serene melody that soon transformed into enchanting singing. Intrigued and unable to resist, I pushed the door open with a loud creak, unleashing a sudden burst of sound into the quiet sanctuary of the library.
What greeted me was almost hypnotic. In the far corner of the spacious room, partially obscured by high wooden shelves, stood a girl. Her deep black hair was intricately styled, woven into two long, flowing braids that swayed gracefully as she moved. Perched on her delicate nose were round glasses, their reflective lenses glistening under the dim library lights like tiny mirrors capturing fleeting sparks of radiance.
Her form was a striking contrast to the surrounding tranquility, adorned with an array of sleek, futuristic gadgets. Metal straps and fine, ribbon-like wires wound intricately around her arms, legs, and torso, each connecting to a small device that projected a dazzling holograph of the renowned Holo-Idol Marissa. This holographic figure mirrored her every move, performing intricate dance steps and radiating an irresistible charm.
As our eyes met, time seemed to freeze. The girl's expression shifted from concentration to shock, mirroring my own astonishment. For a heartbeat, we were frozen in this shared moment of disbelief, before she hastily powered down the device on her chest. The holograph flickered like a dying star, leaving a trail of sparkling particles that danced in the air before fading away.
With sudden urgency, she waved her hands in a rapid flurry of gestures, panic etched deeply across her features. "T-this isn't what it looks like!" The girl stammered, her voice quivering as if she were being accused of a crime.
I remained frozen in place just inside the doorway, my mind racing to make sense of the remarkable spectacle. "There's no doubt about it—the holograph I just saw was THE Holo-Idol Marissa, which can only mean one thing…" A realization struck me with the force of a lightning bolt. "You're a massive fan of hers!" I declared, crossing my arms and nodding with a sense of triumph at my keen perception.
Marissa had soared to unprecedented heights of fame, capturing the hearts of countless fans, so her influence was palpable. Even Kei and Airya had been known to hum her catchy melodies on occasion.
The girl's features transformed into an expression of disbelief, her eyes widening as if I had delivered an unexpected blow. She blinked rapidly, confusion swirling in her gaze, before dramatically placing her hand over her heart and releasing a long breath, as though a weight had been lifted from her chest. "Yes, that's right! I'm a huge fan of Marissa." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as she added, "But I'm not her."
I tilted my head, bewildered by her insistence. Her face flushed a deep crimson, and she waved her hands in a flustered manner, clearly flustered by my assertiveness. "I-I'm not her!"
"I can see that…" I replied slowly, nodding along, still trying to wrap my head around the situation unfolding before my eyes.
Taking a deep breath to regain her composure, she placed her hand back over her chest. I took a moment to really observe her. She wore a bow that matched the distinct colors of my friends, Kei and Airya, signaling that she was a classmate. The unique attire of our school clearly marked the year differences: the 3rd years sported deep navy bows, while 1st years wore bright, vibrant yellow.
The collection of gadgets and devices adorning her body sparked my curiosity further; they were unlike anything I had encountered before. Delicately crafted metallic straps, interlaced with slender wires that coiled around her limbs, torso, and even the crown of her head, formed an intricate network of advanced technology.
"Cool tech." I remarked, still struggling to find the right words to convey my admiration for her impressive setup.
She glanced down at her equipment, a hint of pride illuminating her eyes. "You mean the Virtuosa?"
"Yeah," I answered, genuinely intrigued. "I've never seen anything like it before."
Her expression transformed into one of astonishment as I admitted my unfamiliarity with such advanced technology. "I guess it is pretty high-end technology at the moment." She responded, her voice imbued with a touch of pride. With a deliberate motion, she placed her right hand on the metallic strap encircling her left arm, her fingers gliding over the intricate wiring that snaked down to her hand, as if she were coaxing it to life.
"It's a virtual extension, enabling you to project an avatar into a holographic state and manipulate it within the real world." Her words poured out like an incantation, though they swirled around my head, leaving me in a cloud of confusion.
Despite my bewilderment, I maintained a facade of understanding, nodding along as she animatedly explained the workings of this remarkable technology. It was clear she was truly captivated by it, her enthusiasm shining brightly in the intimate library space, undiminished by my bewilderment.
After a moment, it seems that she becomes aware of my difficulty in comprehending the concepts she's passionately explaining. Clearing her throat, I notice a hint of crimson touching her cheeks, as if the very topic ignites both her enthusiasm and a hint of shyness. "What I'm describing is a virtual avatar that you can control yourself in this world." She elaborates, her eyes brightening.
"So, your avatar is Marissa, huh? I guess you're quite the fan of her." I reply, a teasing lilt slipping into my voice, attempting to lighten the mood.
Her response is a blend of awkward laughter and nervousness, the sound airy yet strained. "Yes, yes, that's correct! Hahaha!" She takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "Anyway, what brings you to the library? It's not often that someone comes here." The question hangs between us, a delicate invitation to continue the conversation.
Remembering the purpose of my visit, I feign an exaggerated moment of realization, placing my right fist into my left palm in an overly dramatic gesture of 'aha!' "I'm actually looking for books on how to be social and make friends." I confess, my voice light but hinting at underlying seriousness.
Her expression shifts from curiosity to confusion, her eyebrows knitting together in puzzlement. "Make friends?" She repeats, the wording sounding foreign and almost alarming to her.
It suddenly strikes me that we've failed to introduce ourselves, leaving her oblivious to my status as the newcomer in town. "Oh, right!" I exclaim, a little too loudly. "I just transferred here on Monday, so I don't actually know anyone yet."
Her face brightens with recognition mixed with a tinge of regret. "You're the transfer student? I'm so sorry, I had no idea! My name's Mai Rissa."
Wait, did I catch her name correctly—Mai Rissa?
The combination stirs a vague unease within me, like a whispered secret lurking beneath the surface of our interaction. "I'm Asahi Irogami," I reply, bowing slightly as we mirror each other's stiff movements in our shared awkwardness, two introverts navigating the treacherous waters of social etiquette.
For a brief, uncomfortable moment, we remain half-bowed, suspended in silence, unsure how to progress from this point. This unsteady equilibrium feels heavy, filled with unspoken hesitations as we grapple with the challenge of continuing the conversation.
Suddenly, a playful voice cuts through the tension like a knife, causing me to straighten up in surprise. "It seems it's time for me to intrude on this awkward spectacle!" A girl stands behind me, her voice brimming with mischief. I turn to find Mai leaning over my shoulder, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"How long have you been there?" I ask, bewilderment coloring my tone. Was she a stealthy ninja? I hadn't sensed her presence even for a moment.
"I was just passing by." Airya explains, her enthusiasm bubbling over. "When I overheard you two discussing making friends, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to sneak in and make a grand entrance!"
The sight of Mai instinctively shrinking behind me makes me smile, but Airya quickly steps around to face her, curiosity etched on her features. "And then I saw you two bowing to each other," she adds with a teasing glint in her eye, "and I just had to intervene before the awkwardness became too unbearable."
Turning her attention back to me, Airya grins, a playful sparkle dancing in her gaze. "So here I am, ready to grant your wish of making friends."
A shiver runs down my spine, mingling an unsettling feeling of foreboding with the nervous excitement of this unexpected twist in my day. Somehow, I can't shake the nagging sensation that this may not unfold as simply as I hope.
Airya excitedly extracted a crisp, white piece of paper from the depths of her pocket, its corners slightly crumpled from being meticulously folded over and over again. She held it aloft like a trophy, her vibrant green eyes shimmering with enthusiasm and determination. "What do you think about starting the 'Making Friends Club'?" She proposed, the standard club registration form fluttering gently in her grip, as if echoing her eagerness.
The thought of initiating a club had never even grazed my mind until that very instant. A flood of ideas and possibilities rushed through me, but before I could voice them, curiosity overcame me. "Why on earth do you have a blank club registration form?" The question slipped out, driven by intrigue.
Had she been mulling this over for a while, perhaps even planning her approach?
With a casual flick of her wrist, Airya shoved the form closer to my face, invading my personal space with the enthusiasm of a child presenting a prized drawing. "Don't get caught up in the details! What truly matters is whether you're genuinely interested in making friends." Every attempt I made to escape her enthusiastic grasp met with her expertly choreographed maneuvers, the paper following my movements as if it were alive, and we were caught in a bewildering, clumsy dance.
"Alright, alright! I really want to make friends!" I finally burst out, my surrender signaled by the exasperation in my tone. With a victorious grin, she pulled the sheet away, her eyes shining with triumph. I sank onto the ground, clutching my chest as I gasped for breath, the intensity of the moment leaving me momentarily lightheaded. Mai, ever the steady presence, crouched beside me, her warm hand soothingly patting my back.
"That's really not helping me here, Mai." I spoke, even as I acknowledged her concern with gratefulness.
"Great! You're joining too, Mai," Airya announced with unyielding certainty, her voice leaving no room for dissent. Mai's eyes widened behind her glasses, which slipped slightly down her nose, conveying a blend of surprise and disbelief, as if she'd just been thrust into the lead role of a play she had no desire to star in. "You don't belong to any club, right? So it's settled!"
Mai turned to me with wide, pleading eyes that seemed to scream silently for assistance, her expression a mix of hope and desperation. I quickly averted my gaze, feeling a wave of guilt rush over me. "There's really no reasoning with her." I reflected, resigned.
"Now, that makes three members!" Airya declared, her voice ringing with excitement and urgency. "We just need two more people to officially kick off the club. I've already got a couple of candidates in mind, and I'm going to need your help with the second one, Asahi."
"Huh?" My face registered pure astonishment, a mixture of confusion and apprehension painting my features at her unexpected request. I was momentarily left speechless, grappling with the implications of her words.