The night enveloped Haruka in a familiar silence, the kind that always ushered in her dreams. The darkness around her felt comforting, like a gentle embrace, but tonight was different. There was an energy pulsating in the air, an anticipation that sent a shiver down her spine. As she drifted into sleep, the chaos of her past began to fade, making way for the soft light of a dream.
In this ethereal world, Haruka found herself standing beneath the ancient cherry blossom tree—their tree—where she and Shizuku had shared countless promises and dreams. The petals danced in the wind, swirling around her like confetti celebrating a joyous occasion. The fragrance of the blossoms filled the air, evoking memories of laughter and innocent dreams.
"Haruka," a soft voice called, breaking through the tranquillity.
Haruka turned, her heart racing. Standing before her was Shizuku, radiant and glowing, as if the very essence of light had come to life. Her sister's hair flowed like silk, shimmering in shades of chestnut-brown, and her green eyes sparkled with warmth and love.
"Shizuku!" Haruka gasped, tears brimming in her eyes. She stepped forward, yearning to reach out and touch the spirit that had haunted her thoughts for so long. "I've missed you so much."
"I know," Shizuku replied, her voice soothing like a lullaby. "But I'm here now. I want to tell you something important."
Haruka felt a mixture of joy and sorrow wash over her. "I've been struggling, Shizuku. I don't know how to live without you. I feel so lost."
Shizuku stepped closer, her expression softening. "You don't have to carry this burden alone. I never wanted you to suffer because of my absence. I wanted you to live, to chase your dreams."
"But I can't help but feel guilty," Haruka confessed, her voice trembling. "I should have protected you. I should have done something."
"You did all you could," Shizuku reassured her gently. "You were my rock, my strength. But after I was gone, you started to carry the weight of my dreams, and that's not what I wanted. I wanted you to have the life we dreamed of together."
Haruka's heart ached at the realization. All those years, she had felt trapped by the memories of their shared dreams, believing she had to fulfil them for both of them. "But how can I let go? You were the one who believed in me."
"Exactly," Shizuku replied, her smile brightening the twilight around them. "I believed in you, Haruka. I still do. Your passion for music, your talent—those are gifts meant to be shared with the world. You have the chance to embrace life, to enjoy the opportunities that I couldn't. That is what I want for you."
Tears spilled down Haruka's cheeks as she listened to her sister's words. The weight of guilt that had pressed down on her for so long began to lift, replaced by a flicker of understanding. "But what if I fail? What if I can't live up to your dreams?"
"Living for both of us doesn't mean you have to be perfect," Shizuku said, her tone unwavering. "It means finding joy in what you do, making music that reflects your heart, and allowing yourself to be happy. You don't have to carry the burden of my dreams; you can create your own."
As her sister spoke, memories flooded Haruka's mind—images of their childhood, their laughter, the way they had harmonized while dreaming of becoming idols together. The dreams had always been intertwined, but Shizuku's illness had stolen so much from them.
"Your illness... it took so much from you, from us," Haruka murmured, a wave of sadness washing over her again.
"But it doesn't have to define you," Shizuku replied, her voice firm yet tender. "You have the chance to live the life I dreamed of, to pursue music without fear. Don't let my memory hold you back. Let it inspire you to shine even brighter."
As the last of her words echoed through the air, Haruka felt the warmth of her sister's spirit wrapping around her like a protective embrace. "I promise, Shizuku. I'll try to live for both of us. I won't let your dreams go unfulfilled. I'll find a way to honour you while pursuing my own path."
"Remember, Haruka, I'm always with you," Shizuku whispered, her form beginning to fade, the petals swirling around her like a gentle farewell. "Whenever you feel lost, just close your eyes and listen to your heart. I'll be there."
As the vision of her sister faded, Haruka felt a renewed sense of purpose ignite within her. She stood beneath the tree, the blossoms swirling around her like a tapestry woven from their shared dreams. For the first time in a long while, she felt lighter, unburdened by guilt and fear.
When she awoke, the first rays of dawn streamed through her window, illuminating her room with a golden glow. The sunlight fell across her piano, casting a warm glow over the keys, and Haruka could feel a stirring in her heart.
Sitting up, she took a deep breath, allowing the warmth of the morning to fill her lungs. It was time to begin anew, to channel her sister's spirit into her music and embrace the life she still had.
As she approached the piano, her fingers danced over the keys, and a melody began to emerge—a melody that felt both fresh and familiar. With each note, she poured her heart into the music, transforming her pain into something beautiful.
The weight of the past had not vanished entirely, but with every chord, Haruka felt her spirit rising. She was no longer just Nanami Shizuku, a name borrowed from a life half-lived. She was Nanami Haruka, a woman ready to honour her sister by chasing her own dreams and sharing her voice with the world.
And as the music flowed, she knew that Shizuku would always be a part of her journey, guiding her from the shadows, a light illuminating her path forward.
Haruka's dreams with Shizuku's spirit continued, each one a comforting reminder of her sister's unwavering support. But as she began to process the truths about their past, a darker cloud loomed over her—an issue that Koji had brought to her attention.
One evening, after a particularly vivid dream where Shizuku encouraged her to follow her heart, Haruka sat down at her piano, the notes flowing effortlessly. Yet, as she played, a nagging thought crept in: the demo that had raised concerns. What if her latest composition echoed Shizuku's work too closely? The weight of Koji's words hung heavily in the air. "They think it resembles an old demo we scrapped years ago."
She closed her eyes, trying to distance herself from the fear. The melody she had crafted felt like a tribute to Shizuku, not a theft. But the possibility of it being a mere echo of her sister's genius stung.
That night, as she tossed and turned, Haruka's guilt resurfaced, intertwining with her memories of Shizuku. She remembered the quiet moments they shared, sitting under the cherry blossom tree, dreaming of the future. Would Shizuku have wanted her to use her music in a way that caused concern? Would she have ever wanted Haruka to feel this burden?
When morning arrived, the sunlight streamed through her window, warming her face and stirring her determination. Haruka resolved to confront Koji about the issue. She needed to find clarity—not just for herself, but for Aqua Notes as well. They were her family now, and she owed it to them to ensure her work was original and true to her spirit.