This time, Eiko managed not to make a complete fool of herself. At least, she hoped so. She introduced herself to the two other Banana Fish members as soon as she spotted them in the rehearsal space, even managing a scrap of small talk without slurring a single English word.

Remembering their names required no effort. The drummer was called Kong, like that scary creature from Yuu-chan's games. At a first glance, the name fit her—she was intimidatingly tall and broad-shouldered—but it didn't take Eiko long to notice that Kong had the kindest brown eyes, and was more gentle than half of the people Eiko knew.

The bassist’s name, though, made absolutely no sense. They called her Bones, but with her canine tooth sticking out slightly whenever she smiled, her messy hair and that mischievous stare, she looked more like a feral kitten than anything else.

Despite their odd names, both girls were totally normal. Lovely even. They brought Eiko and Ibe an ice-cold can of Cuca-cola each and a bunch of foreign snacks too. Eiko tried one of the chocolate bars first; it was so unforgivingly sweet it made her teeth ache, so she set it down after half a bite, smiling politely while Ibe happily finished hers. The chips she never even got to, before Bones was pressing something else into her hands, insisting she tried more.

Was it American hospitality? Or just girls being nice? Eiko was itching to ask Ibe, but when Kong had offered to give them a tour, she never managed to catch a moment alone with Ibe.

"Now, to the control room," Kong announced, striding ahead with Bones at her side.

Ibe was practically shaking with excitement. Eiko should have been, too. And she was. Kind of. But every few steps, she kept glancing back at the narrow hallway, searching for Ashlyn. Probably still jamming with Shorter, she told herself. Probably too busy to join the four of them. Not that it mattered.

Kong stopped so abruptly that Eiko nearly crashed into Ibe's back. "Behold," Kong said, and flung the doors on her left open. "The brain of the studio."

"Whoa," Ibe gasped as she stepped inside.

Eiko caught herself glancing over her shoulder again. If Ashlyn wanted to spend time with her, with them, she would have joined them. But she didn't. So why did Eiko keep hoping to see her? Stupid. She shook her head and followed the rest of the girls into the room. 

The sound that left Eiko's mouth was nearly identical to Ibe's gasp. This place wasn't your plain old boring control room, no . It looked like it was crafted with the obsessive touch only a prodigy could bring. The console alone was a masterpiece: fully customized, bristling with outboard modules and EQ strips. Even the furniture seemed custom-made, angled just enough to fit whatever goods it held.

Eiko stepped next to Ibe, admiring a bunch of amps stacked like a holy shrine—Marshalls, Soldanos, and a lineup of unfamiliar brands that looked equally expensive and beautiful.

Kong crossed her arms, eyeing the amps. "Ashlyn’s crazy about her guitars." She quickly covered her mouth, eyes wide in horror. "Just… don’t tell boss I called her crazy."

Eiko blinked. "Boss?" She couldn't tell if Kong meant it in a grand or an ironic way.

"Well, Ashlyn's not, like, a boss for real-real." Bones hopped into a spinning chair by the console. "But, y’know. Kinda." She kicked off the floor, and the chair spun twice until Kong caught the backrest with one hand and stilled it.

"She's the one who got us together," Kong said, and folded her arms over the chair's headrest, leaning into it just enough to take the weight off her shoulders. "But don't worry. She's not actually bossy," she said, and Bones looked up to give her a playful stare. They both burst out laughing. "Well, not always bossy."

Eiko found herself smiling. Their banter reminded her of that one American TV show about friends living together. Having someone like that probably made the world feel lighter, and to have them in your band too… what a gift it must be.

Ibe cleared her throat, then spoke softly: "And she writes all your lyrics too, right?"

Kong nodded. "Won’t let anyone else touch a line."

Bones tried spinning the chair, but Kong's body weight held it still, so she crossed both of her legs instead and sat straight. "I had this idea once," she said. "It was like, a big power ballad, ya know, kinda cheesy, big chorus—"

"She means a love song," Kong cut in, smirking.

"Well, ya, so what?" Bones blurted out, her face turning all red. Kong never stopped smiling. "Had most of the lyrics ready and all." Bones anxiously tugged at the loose strap of her overalls. "But Ashlyn nearly bit my head off. Said she’d rather, I quote, slowly cut her limbs off one by one, and then serve ‘em wrapped in her own skin to some ol' perverted cannibal, than sing a single love song."

Eiko froze, smile faltering. No wonder Ashlyn was so cold with her. Her whole catalog, her whole career , was based on scenarios that probably made Ashlyn gag: everything from kissing your man in the rain to dancing in your bedroom because your crush breathed in your direction.

Ibe chuckled awkwardly. "I see, I see." She stepped towards the wide glass window above the console, peering into the empty live room beyond. "And rehearsing two weeks before the event—is that standard practice in America?"

"Not at all." Kong let the chair go and turned toward Ibe. "Our contract's a bit…" She paused, scratching her chin. "Odd."

"It is, it is," Bones said, nodding. "But it's not like we actually rehearse all of the time. When Alex is our designated driver-slash-handler-slash-snack-smuggler, we jam, and we…" She smirked at Kong.

Kong answered with an equally devious grin. "And we also chill. And then we jam some more."

The thought alone made Eiko exhausted. She used to be like that, too; sometimes so immersed in practicing, she wouldn't notice how the days blurred. But now… god, she felt like an old fart.

"We also hang out at the main lobby." Bones jumped off the chair without making a sound. "Wanna see it?"

"Sure." Ibe smiled, turning towards the doors together with Kong.

"We've got pinball, table soccer, Pac-Woman—" Bones’s voice echoed as she stepped into the hallway, listing a bunch of other names, only half of which Eiko knew.

Eiko looked back at the empty control room one more time and was about to follow the girls when her vision snagged, just slightly, on the edges of the room. The faint shimmer was back, creeping in like static.

Shit.  

Normally, this would barely count as an inconvenience, especially for someone whose entire body specialized in malfunctions. But the girls didn’t know that; when they’d see Eiko lying down, they’d start asking questions. And when they asked, Eiko would have to explain. No, it’s not just a headache. No, I can’t get up. Can’t see. And yes, it hurts, but everything hurts, all the time, so really, don’t worry.

Except they would worry. Everyone always did. Poor, fragile Eiko. And when it came to Ashlyn… Eiko couldn't bear the thought of embarrassing herself in front of her. Again.

Eiko needed to hide. Before it hit.

"You coming?" Bones's sharp voice snapped her back. She stood in the doorway, waiting.

"I need the bathroom," Eiko blurted before Bones could raise an eyebrow. "American snacks haven’t been going well—" She cut herself off before she could dig the hole of lies any deeper.

Bones winced in sympathy. "Oh, shit." She let out a quick chuckle. "Quite literally—I hope not too literally." She jerked her chin toward the hallway. "Upstairs. At the end of the hall."

A quiet spot to lay down and a merciful absence of fluorescent glare—that was all Eiko needed to survive this thing crawling up her vision and now up her legs too. She stumbled across the second floor hallway, hoping to find an empty, dark studio, but each door Eiko rattled was locked.

She glanced at the WC sign pointing to the door at the end of the corridor. That was still an option, yeah; yet the memory of the first American restroom she’d been to—its floor coated in a sticky, unidentifiable substance that might’ve come from another dimension—didn’t make her excited, to say the least. 

So she tried another door on the left, not expecting much. To her surprise, it swung open, and a rush of cool night air swept over her like a blessing. Without a second thought, she staggered into the balcony and let herself collapse on her knees, then lowered until her back pressed flat against the cold concrete floor.

For a second, life was good. Too good, right until the sharp smell of cigarette smoke hit her.

Her chest clenched. She wasn’t alone, was she?

"Comfortable?" a husky voice asked.

Eiko’s blood went cold. No. Please no . She stared at the blurred night sky, hoping that, maybe, if she lay perfectly still, this would all pass as an auditory hallucination. She was at the right age to develop schizophrenia, no?

"So…" the voice continued, unmistakably Ashlyn's. "Is lying down on bare concrete some kind of Japanese wellness trend I’ve missed?" 

Slowly, horrifyingly , Eiko forced her head to tilt up. Above, framed by a starless sky, Ashlyn sat slouched against the wall, with a glowing cigarette in one hand and a book in the other.

Perfect. Just perfect. If Eiko hadn’t already cemented herself in Ashlyn’s mind as an impolite, love-song-obsessed idiot, this sealed the deal. "Sorry," Eiko said, lifting herself on her elbows. "Thought I was alone." She barely had the strength to prop herself up, let alone stand, but if she did, she might have hurled herself off the balcony, preferably without surviving the landing.

Ashlyn killed her cigarette into an overflowing jar. "You look like shit." She grinned.

Eiko huffed a quiet laugh. "Uh, thanks?" She couldn't argue. She probably looked like she was about to faint because she surely felt so, not just from the migraine that was about to hit even harder, but from all the embarrassment too. "I just need to lie down," Eiko murmured, already lowering herself back onto the floor. At least this couldn't get any more embarrassing. Right?

"FYI," Ashlyn peeked from above, her face unreadable, clouded by the static in Eiko’s eyes, "there’s a couch in the lobby downstairs."

"No," Eiko said quickly, looking anywhere but at her. "Here’s fine."

"Here, as in on the cold, bare concrete?"

Eiko nodded. 

Ashlyn eyed her like she was deciding whether to mock her. "You’re gonna get meningitis or something."

"What ?"

Ashlyn hesitated, then gave the most casual shrug and leaned back against the wall. Her voice was slightly higher than usual: "You could… I dunno—" she patted her lap twice, "—lay here if you want. Or not. Whatever."

Eiko blinked. Was Ashlyn seriously suggesting she use her lap as a pillow? She couldn’t tell if it was a joke, a dare, or… something else entirely.

"Ground’s cold," Ashlyn added, still not looking at her. "I’m not. And since you’re already dying, might as well go out comfortably."

Somehow, the deadpan delivery pulled a chuckle out of Eiko. Ashlyn wasn’t prying, wasn’t pitying her, she was just saying the silliest things. That alone was enough to make Eiko's shoulders fall back with ease.

"What’s so funny?" Ashlyn asked.

"You." 

Ashlyn crossed her arms. "Says a Victorian child as soul leaves her body."

"Child?" Eiko snorted. "I’m pretty sure I'm older than you."

"Okay, sorry , big sister," Ashlyn teased. "How's meningitis going?"

"It's… not?"

"Mm-hm. Sure. That’s exactly what people say right before they die from meningitis."

Eiko gave her the flattest look she could manage, though it was hard to be intimidating while sprawled on the ground like a fainting goat. "You’re ridiculous."

"You're calling me ridiculous?" Ashlyn said, gesturing at Eiko lying down, and Eiko couldn't help but huff out a tiny laugh. "You?"

"Fine," Eiko said. "If it’ll make you happy." She pushed herself upright, wincing at the way her skull throbbed with the motion, and in one slightly clumsy move, lowered her head onto the soft embrace of Ashlyn’s lap.

Eiko heard it before she saw it—the sharp inhale above her, followed by a silence that stretched too long. Ashlyn had gone still. Too still. 

Eiko’s heart squeezed. Of course. It had been a joke, and she, in typical fashion, had taken it far too literally. And now here she was, head in Ashlyn’s lap, escalating the awkwardness to catastrophic levels.

Ashlyn cleared her throat, shifting her legs just enough to remind Eiko where her head was resting, then glanced down with a crooked smirk. "Wow. You’re pretty heavy for a dying child."

"Sorry," Eiko wanted to say, but she stopped herself. She needed to come up with a witty comeback instead, anything to make this less mortifying, but her mind was a wasteland. "Uh…" Her eyes darted everywhere but at Ashlyn’s face, and only then did she realize how dangerously close that face actually was. Desperate, she latched onto the book she’d noticed earlier, now abandoned by the railing. A spiral curled across the cover, though she couldn’t make out the title. "So…" She swallowed. "What are you reading?" 

"I wasn’t," Ashlyn blurted, too fast, too defensive.

Eiko squinted up at her. "No?" She might have been forty percent blind at that time, but she knew what she had seen. "So you were just… holding a book?"

Ashlyn clicked her tongue, looking away. "I was just skimming. Nothing much."

Eiko smirked. Maybe Ashlyn was reading a romance novel in secret? That would have made Bones and Kong die with laughter. "Then, what was it about?"

Ashlyn hesitated, then muttered, "…Fig trees. Or something."

"Oh." Eiko blinked. Ashlyn didn’t exactly scream gardening-enthusiast, but who was she to judge? 

Ashlyn finally turned back, looking down at her. For a moment, Eiko forgot about the throbbing in her skull and the annoying ache in her joints. She realized that she could see her. Really see her. The static in her eyes receded, leaving behind the sharp line of Ashlyn’s cheekbones, the pale sweep of her lashes, and eyes, so warm against the night air, they kindled a flame somewhere deep in Eiko’s chest.

"And how are you feeling now, big sis?" Ashlyn asked, voice teasing.

"Better," Eiko admitted.

And it was true. Even though her head still throbbed faintly, the worst of it had passed. But it wasn’t just that. She was better because Ashlyn was here. Not the polished magazine-cover-Ashlyn with dead eyes and a rehearsed smile. This Ashlyn was real, and, against all expectations, kind.

Maybe that was why, for the first time on this trip, Eiko didn’t feel like something broken. She just felt… lighter.