The backstage corridor of the gymnasium was always particularly chaotic during performances.
Members of some unknown club ran past them carrying prop boxes, the metal clinking loudly inside. Fortunately, they had activated their cognitive magic after leaving the stage; to everyone else, they now looked like ordinary people.
The three of them walked down the corridor, which was plastered with performance posters, toward the breakroom. Behind them, the sound of continuous applause still echoed.
Kohinata led the way, her stage shoe laces having come undone. She was too lazy to tie them, letting them drag along the floor. She shrunk her hammer down to the size of a keychain charm and gripped it in her palm, using her other hand to gesture through the angles of a move they had just performed.
Amamiya followed last, pulling the door shut behind her. The lock clicked into place, sealing out the clamor of the corridor.
Kohinata slumped into a folding chair as if all the bones had been sucked out of her body and tilted her head back to gulp down half a bottle of water. She set the bottle on the vanity without tightening the cap, and droplets slid down its side, forming a small puddle on the tabletop.
She stretched her legs out and kicked off her stage shoes one after the other. The shoes bounced twice on the floor before coming to rest crookedly by the legs of Night Sakura’s chair.
“So tired—but that was so much fun!” Kohinata’s voice still carried the high of having just stepped off the stage, her face gleaming with sweat.
She pushed off her knees to spring up from the chair and hopped around on the cold floor in her bare feet. “So many people were singing along to the second song today!”
“I saw, I saw. There really were a lot of people today.” Night Sakura pulled out a chair and sat down, removing an earring from one ear and carefully placing it into a small box she carried.
She rubbed her earlobe, which was slightly red from the clip, and studied herself in the mirror for a moment before suddenly remembering something amusing.
“Though Amamiya kept the same expression the whole time. It didn’t even change during the curtain call. Were you shy?”
“That’s called being professional,” Amamiya said, leaning against the wall. Her twin kodachi were already back in their sheaths, resting against the vanity; the wrappings on the hilts were darkened by sweat.
Kohinata bent over to retrieve one of her shoes, hopping on one foot as she tried to pull it on. “By the way, did Lightweaver bring snacks to the audience today?”
Night Sakura, in the middle of removing her other earring, paused with her fingers on her earlobe. “She probably did. She never misses something she’s promised.”
She turned around and leaned back against the vanity, propping herself up with her hands on the surface. “But you’re only asking because you want to sneak some while she’s not looking, aren’t you? Last time you were caught stealing her cookies, who was it that clung to my waist and hid behind my back crying, ‘Night Sakura, save me!’?”
“That was a special case! And she didn't scold me; she just flicked my forehead.”
Kohinata rubbed her forehead as she spoke, remembering the sensation. Lightweaver’s fingers had been cool, and the flick had made a sharp clicking sound against her skin.
It hadn’t hurt, but the look in Lightweaver’s eyes at that moment had made her feel like a kitten caught red-handed stealing food.
Amamiya suddenly spoke up. “She seemed to be in a bad mood today. She hasn't said much since we sat down.”
Kohinata was pulling on her other shoe, the heel getting stuck. She looked down to adjust it and asked with a hint of worry, “Could it be because of what Night Sakura said on stage? She clearly didn't want people to know... Oh no, do you think she’s angry?”
“She isn’t the type to get angry over something like that. At worst, we’ll just have to make Amamiya act cute to cheer her up.”
As Night Sakura spoke, she turned her gaze toward Amamiya. Hearing this, Amamiya straightened her posture and poked Night Sakura in the waist hard with the pommel of her sword.
“Then when we go out, I’ll check her expression first,” Kohinata said, counting off Lightweaver’s micro-expressions on her fingers. “If she’s smiling, it’s fine. If she’s crossing her arms, she’s in a bad mood. If she’s crossing her arms and her legs, that means it’s very bad.”
Kohinata lost heart halfway through her count, her shoulders slumping. “But she has her arms crossed most of the time anyway. I can’t tell the difference at all.”
“Alright, stop guessing. Let’s go find the Store Owner and Lightweaver.”
Night Sakura glanced back at the other two. Seeing they were ready, she pulled open the breakroom door. The cool air of the corridor rushed in, mixed with the sound of distant, ongoing applause.
The performances on stage were still going. Below the stage, only the footlights and a few rows of dim indicator lights provided illumination.
The three of them slipped out and headed down the stairs beside the spectator seats. Their eyes scanned the rows of the audience, quickly finding Misa Tachibana’s wheelchair among the crowd.
“Store Owner!” Kohinata called out in a low voice, quickening her pace. After a few steps, she remembered she was in the audience and immediately lightened her tread, tiptoeing the rest of the way down.
Night Sakura followed behind her and crouched down beside Misa Tachibana’s wheelchair, looking up at her with a much more serious expression. “Store Owner, how did we do?”
“Very well.” Misa Tachibana reached out and patted Night Sakura’s head, then adjusted the mask on her own face slightly.
“The rhythm of the second song was steadier than during rehearsals, and the harmony was more synchronized than when you practiced.”
Night Sakura was a bit embarrassed by the praise. For once, she didn't have a witty comeback and simply smiled quietly.
Kohinata had already plopped into her seat, but upon hearing Misa praise Night Sakura, she leaned over the armrest of the wheelchair to look up at her. “Store Owner, Store Owner! What about me?”
“Also very good, but you almost tripped again.”
“That was only an ‘almost’!” Kohinata buried her face against the armrest, her voice muffled. “And Amamiya was right there to cover for me, right Amamiya—Amamiya?”
Amamiya was standing next to Lightweaver, looking down at the empty snack bag in Lightweaver’s hand.
She remained silent for a moment before pointing a finger at the bag. “...You finished them.”
Lightweaver crumpled the snack bag into a ball and stuffed it into a nearby trash can. She turned to meet Amamiya’s gaze. “I saved your portion for you.”
She pulled a small bag from the inner pocket of her jacket. It contained several individually wrapped pieces, which she handed to Amamiya.
Amamiya took the bag, looked down at the snacks inside, and then sat in the empty seat next to Lightweaver. She opened the bag and began to eat quietly.
Kohinata lifted her head from the armrest, her eyes widening when she saw the snacks in Amamiya’s hand. “Why does Amamiya get her own separate portion? What about us?”
“You have some nerve asking that,” Lightweaver said, tilting her head as she looked at the shocked Kohinata. “Besides, this is a reward. Do you have a problem with that?”
Kohinata opened her mouth to say “no,” but before she could make a sound, Night Sakura gave her shoulder a gentle pat from behind.
“Give it up,” Night Sakura whispered. “You can’t win against Amamiya.” She then stepped past Kohinata and sat down next to Lightweaver, naturally leaning in closer to her.
Rate on N.U.
