“Um… Okay. H-here goes.”
Tomori turned over a page on the magazine. She stared fixedly, nervously at the words printed on the glossy paper, enough to burn a hole straight through it; as if the letters would slide right off if she did not keep them pinned right there with her eyes.
“…First… first question.”
This had all been Anon’s fault.
After foisting the latest personality test from one of her teeny-bopper publications on Soyo (unsuccessfully), and then on Taki, she’d finally set her sights on Tomori. Tomori, for her part, found the concept of a quarterly magazine peering into one’s soul and divining fate itself a little scary, but could not find it in herself to turn Anon down. She ended up finding it strangely entertaining.
And then the idea hit her like a bolt of lightning.
Someone had been on her mind lately. A certain bandmate of hers, whom she still, even after all this time, could not say she truly knew.
In a way, the two of them were very close. Tomori felt a certain wavelength resonate in her chest whenever she was around her; the usual low-level anxiety she felt around most people, even people she loved dearly, simply melted away. They hardly exchanged any words, and yet her presence was indescribably comfortable. In that sense, she really couldn’t complain.
And yet, when she wasn’t around, and Tomori caught herself thinking about just how preciously few things she really knew about her, it made her feel incredibly… sad. She was so close, yet so far. They were like twin stars orbiting each other, never quite managing to touch.
Of course, if she wanted to get to know her better, she could simply ask. But ask… what? Where to even begin? There were so many pieces making up the whole of a person. So many piled-up little memories and scars and feelings. The very thought of it completely overwhelmed Tomori.
But there it was: the perfect solution. Just what would she find out? Tomori could barely sit still. She asked Anon to borrow the issue they’d gone through together, but when Anon couldn’t find it, she handed Tomori the one she’d been reading lately, without much thought. It did have a personality quiz, after all. What could go wrong?
“W-what’s your… star sign, Raana-chan?,” Tomori asked.
Raana leaned back in her chair, savoring a bite of matcha parfait. (This is how Tomori had convinced her to sit still and answer.)
“Dunno. I forgot.”
“Um… I think it’s Pisces. I’ll put that in.” Tomori continued scanning the page. “…What color lipstick do you wear?”
Raana paused her chewing and eyed Tomori suspiciously. “I don’t.”
“I… I guess that would be ’nude’? Next question… If you got ten million yen right now, w-what would you spend it on…?”
Finally, Raana gave her answer some thought. “…Pedals. Like from Analogman. Or a vintage Moogerfooger.”
“Er…” Tomori squinted at the page. “S-sorry. The only options are… um, jewelry, clothes, a… Birkin bag…?, and, a trip to Paris.”
Raana thought again, this time for longer. “…Clothes.”
“Okay.” Tomori flipped the page again. “Um.”
“Hm?” Raana tilted her head.
Tomori hesitated, but after gathering her strength, she carefully read off the page. “…Have you ever… had a boyfriend?”
Upon hearing this, Raana’s face suddenly puckered up, as if someone had spiked her parfait with a mix of lemon juice and pure capsaicin.
“R-Raana-chan…?”
“…yes,” Raana answered, her face turned away in shame.
“W—R-really?!” Tomori’s mind began to race. A murky soup of conflicting emotions flooded her mind; she spoke faster than she could think. “When? W-Who was it?”
“Not telling you. That’s… dark history.”
“Ah… B-but, Raana-chan…” Tomori leaned in closer. The sheer pull of curiosity had made her lose her usual restraints. “I… I really do want to know more about you, you know…”
Perhaps it was the look in Tomori’s eyes cutting through to her soul, or perhaps it was simply a failure of her fight-or-flight response. But after some more dodging, Raana spilled the beans.
It had happened in her second year of middle school, shortly after she’d quit the guitar, after SPACE closed down.
Raana was at rock bottom. She had lost the only meaning in life she had ever known. Such was the pit of desperation she found herself in when a snot-nosed boy from her neighborhood propositioned her. “You’re pretty, and kinda weird,” he told her. “I like that.” His name was Tsutsujimori. Tsutsujimori Yuutarou.
Raana figured anything was worth a try, at that point.
It was the worst mistake she ever made.
They had absolutely nothing in common. Every time he would pester her and take her out on a date he would go on and on about the most boring things imaginable. Whatever those things were, they were so boring they had completely fallen out of her head by now. It might have been something about cars. Or… baseball. Raana had to fight for her life not to fall asleep. And he wouldn’t even pay for her food half the time, always claiming he hadn’t gotten his allowance for the month yet.
But worst of all, he was… handsy.
They never officially broke up, but considering their last encounter ended with Raana clawing the boy across the face until he bled, it was as good as over. They never spoke again.
Tomori listened intently; but as she did, something strange began to well up inside her. Something fiery and bright and unknowable. Something she had not felt since kindergarten, when the only mean kid she’d ever met swiped her favorite rock out of her hands and threw it into a pond.
She was overcome with a sudden, intractable urge to grab Raana’s hands and never let go of her again.
And she was not sure what that really meant.
“So. That’s the story,” Raana said, her voice now laced with venom. “Next question.”
“U-Um. That’s… actually the last one.”
“Oh.”
“Y-yeah.”
“So?”
“S-sorry?”
“The result. It’s a test, right?”
“Oh. Right.”
Tomori took out her notebook and pencil and dutifully tallied up the scores. She turned the page one last time.
“It… It says… your BTS soulmate is Jungkook.”
“Dunno what that means.”
“Yeah. Me either,” Tomori said, with a gentle smile.
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