there's a firefly in every moonless night

~Hello my lovely audience, are you here to watch the show? You've come to the right place- the SHSL Illusionist, Hotaru Azamaku, is here to illuminate your life~! Affiliated with Akedo City Despair | D E A D (Sidebar and avatar made by Chell-Arts!)

[finding-fallen-stars]

Some assorted Hotaru sketches~

[finding-fallen-stars]

“I’m scared.”

“I don’t wanna die.”

[finding-fallen-stars]

hide the seer

[finding-fallen-stars]

Though it won’t be today

Someday I’ll hope again

[akedocitydespair]

Down the Rabbit Hole

[HOTARU AZAMAKU HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY.]

[COMMENCING EXECUTION…]

Keep reading

[tadaosayuki]

let her be happy

[akedocitydespair]

Man Hotaru was like my third favourite character

[akedocitydespair]

One Last Lullaby | Goodbye | ATTN: Everyone

The lights go out all around me

Of all the ways Hotaru Azamaku was prepared to die, of all the ways she pictured the reactions to the sins that stained her hands, this was not one of them.

one last candle to keep out the night

She had been prepared for a symphony of loathing— for a whole world of bitterness and hatred for what she had done. She was ready to face the music and suffer for the irreparable damage she had done: she was ready to let the whole world slip away until she was no longer a part of it.

and then the darkness surrounds me,

Of all the ways she was prepared to go,

I know I’m alive

Of all the ways she expected her life to flicker out,

But I feel like I’ve died.

This was the furthest from all of them.

All that’s left is to accept that it’s over

Hotaru stared out at her classmates, azure eyes wide with shock and…horror. She didn’t think anyone or anything would fight for her life. She was sure that every single one of them would punch in their vote for her and raise a glass as her life winked out, forever gone, until she no longer breathed.

My dreams ran like sand

Her eyes fell upon the voting results, and remorse blossomed through her delicate frame, spiraling within her soul until she no longer sat straight.

through the fists that I madeI try to keep warm,

The illusionist abandoned her podium, sprinting over to Makoto with all the hurry a girl condemned to death would be expected to have. Nothing in the world mattered in that moment— nothing but fulfilling her purpose in life as best as she could.

but I just grow colder

The moment Hotaru entered her vicinity, she crashed around the skeptic, her embrace tight— practically anchoring the Daughter of the Sun to the spot. She sobbed into Makoto’s shoulder, her pleas inaudible to all save Makoto herself—

“…don’t you dare, for once second, think that my life is worth more than yours,” she whispered, holding the skeptic close and tight, as though trying to pull her out of whatever blur her mind was thrown into. “You are a wonderful, beautiful person, Mako-chan…you’re the kind of person I could never, ever forget. You have changed my life for the better just by being here, and you have done the same for many others. You’ve…you have fought for the truth, and I want you to continue to pursue that. You’re amazing, Mako-chan— please, never, ever, ever try to throw your life away again….”

Hotaru’s eyes met Makoto's— tears clinging to her thick lashes, her eyelids hued with scarlet from all the sorrow that leaked from her. Albeit painstakingly, she managed a weak smile: a tiny flicker of hope in a situation devoid of it.

And in that moment, not caring who else was there, not minding if the whole world was watching or if her peers found it stupid, Hotaru kissed Makoto on the spot.

It felt as though time itself had given up and ceased to pass. All that mattered was that Hotaru could have one last chance of redemption— she could be at peace if Makoto was too. Although it was only seconds, it felt as though an eternity had passed before Hotaru pulled away, meeting eyes with the skeptic yet again.

“I’ll never forget you.”

I feel like I’m slipping away.

The illusionist wiped away the tears that pooled at the corners of her eyes, sniffling as she stared at her class. Even though her heart was breaking, even though she wished with all her heart that she could take her actions back— she smiled weakly, her eyes flickering between classmates as she spoke.

After all this has passed,

“…Felix, I want to thank you for your kindness. You have been wonderful to me, and I’ve looked up to you since the very beginning! I hope…one day we can meet again, in better circumstances. Keep taking pictures, okay?” She turned to Gorou too, flicking away more of her sadness as she did. “…Gorou, I never got to meet you, but please, please don’t give up on defying gravity. You can do it— I know you can.”

Hime. “H-Hime-chan, I’m…I’m really sorry for being so pathetic, but I’m really glad we met. Please keep fighting for hope, but don’t forget that…even the cutest of people can still cry.” Hoshi. “Hoshi…I will never, ever forget that drawing. Don’t give up on your art— I know you’ll forever be amazing, okay?” Her eyes swiftly glazed over her own podium, and landed on Jack. “Keep fighting for the truth, Kawamugi-san— the truth is what leads to hope.” Katsuo. “Sunohara-san, I…may not agree with some of the things you do or say, but I’m happy to have met you too! Your research is really important, and…be sure to give Penny a treat for me!”

Makoto… “Mako-chan….I…I love you.” Hotaru blushed, briefly averting her eyes. “It’s…really soon to say such a thing, but you were so kind to me and I…hehe, my heart didn’t agree with my mind on the time thing.”

Masae. “Thank you, Atoshi-san, for bringing me to justice. Please, keep lighting up the world with your cubes! They are true magic, and you are true magic— I am happy you saw right through me.” Miliko. “We never talked, but I still think you’re beautiful and gifted…don’t lose hope, okay?” Mitsuko. “…I’m sorry for disappointing you, Mina-tan. But I’m so glad we got to talk even if it was just once— I still think you’re wonderful.” Ryohei. “Ryo-tan, I…I didn’t know that everyone would die if it was an incorrect vote…that is my fault. I know you can beat your record one day, okay?! If I have to come down from the afterlife myself and give you wings, I will!” Shozo. “…I was really unfair to you, Yamashita-san, but you still have a gift and I hope that gift brings you in a brighter direction than anticipated.”

Stella… “Thank you for trying to fight for me— even though I…I don’t deserve it. You’re a wonderful person…I won’t forget you either.” She smiled, genuinely, before turning to Timothy. “You’re a really talented writer and I’m so happy we got to write together, even though it was just once…! Please, never give up on your talent— if I can still read your works in death, you know I will.” And last but not least… Tokuma. “Thank you for catching me, Terauchi-san — please continue to do what I could not and spread light among us all.”

She stepped forward, her countenance full of severity. “And to all of you— never, ever lose hope. Despair will not win! I promise you! Continue to fight for hope, and live your lives to the fullest!”

I still will remain

“And Mama…” she said, staring at the ceiling, hoping that the world outside could hear her…. “…I’m sorry for all I’ve done. Don’t cry for me— I’m sorry that your daughter turned out to be a bad person in the end.”

After I’ve cried my last

The illusionist walked up to MonokumAI’s throne, staring expectantly up at the bear.

There will be beauty from pain

“I’m ready, MonokumAI.”

Though it won’t be today

She wiped away her tears one last time, casting a forlorn smile toward her class.

Someday I’ll hope again

“Goodbye.”

And there will be beauty from pain.

[akedocitydespair]

When The Music's Gone | Motive Reaction | OPEN

[shslskeptic]

akedocitydespair:

The past few days had felt fake.

Every footstep she took, every broken beat of her heart felt strangely unreal— as though the whole world could crumble down around them at any second. She wouldn’t have cared, to be honest— if this game was the fate of everyone here, she’d rather dissipate into stardust and disappear forever.

Wasn’t it better to live among the stars than it was to be someone’s next murder victim? Wasn’t it better to glitter across space than it was to have everything you knew and loved send you to your death?

It was in Hotaru’s book. It didn’t matter how broken her worldview had become— maybe there was a little bit of beauty in something if that something was escape. She couldn’t stand another day here— waking up in the morning made her sick with the knowledge that she might never feel the aroma of blackberry pancakes fill her nostrils. Walking the streets made her miss the glory of the stage— the gasps of surprise that her audience would radiate with her every move.

Writing in her journal was her last anchor to the little remnants of her left. With it, nothing else mattered— she could remember all the beautiful things in this world and pretend that this whole game was some cruel nightmare that she had yet to wake up from.

But of course, the chains of her anchor shattered the moment they were summoned down again.

She walked at a snail’s pace— her feet dragging, barely lifting from the grainy streets, her countenance devoid of the light and joy it typically bore. She was a physical mess— clothed in a white and purple nightgown and her typical ballet flats, her lilac curls a mess untamed. Her Firefly hair clip was strung on a chain as a locket— but she looked like a zombie.

And as she read the contents of her PDA, the only expression she’d summoned in the whole time since Katashi’s execution shifted— her eyes wide, her lips parted in shock as she stared at the tiny screen.

No.

There was no way. Of all the things, of all the people— it had to be a lie, it had to be…

But no, it wasn’t so— they’d had all kinds of dirt on everyone else here, so why not something as simple as the name and location of her family?

“Mo…ther…?” Hotaru breathed, her voice devoid of its usual singsong tone. “…mother….”

She fell to the concrete, her PDA falling to her side as she held her knees, curling up in the fetal position and blinding herself from the rest of the world. Those messy curls splayed across the ground, fanning out beneath her as she let out a low and heavy sob.

Reiko Azamaku— the person who’d given her life meaning, the person who’d brought her into this world to begin with. The person who accepted her no matter what.

The person who told her that her schizophrenia didn’t make her broken— it just meant she was built on a different foundation and that she was no worse than anyone else she’d ever encounter, mental illness or not.

Reiko Azamaku— her mother.

“…y-you can’t…” she whispered as she laid against the rough concrete, sobbing her eyes out there and then. Her body shook, but she showed no interest in getting up. One hand squeezed her newfound pendant, that firefly hairclip that opened her pathway into the book of reasons to live.

The Violet Firefly was gone. All that remained was a sad, pathetic, small mess of a girl—

And her name was Hotaru.

Makoto Inaba was herself more shaken than she expected by this motive. Perhaps seeing someone die, someone close to her nonetheless, had set her far on edge to the point where she’d lost her usual cool charm. In theory it shouldn’t have gotten to her. She knew it could only be fake. So why was she bothered? Was it because she knew it MIGHT be possible now? She cursed herself for letting such a feeble blackmail attempt get to her… And she stormed through the halls, no clear purpose in mind.

And then she saw her, falling to the ground. In that moment, she regained her focus. Hotaru was taking this far worse, wasn’t she… Immediately Makoto darted towards her, picking up the fallen PDA before someone stepped on it.

“H-Hey, hey… Hotaru…”

She froze for a moment, before sitting down right next to Hotaru, pressing her knees to her chest. Slowly, surely, she passed the PDA over to Hotaru.

“Um… Um, here. You… dropped this.”

She fell silent, thinking, before finally finding some words.

“Everything’s going to be okay…”

[firefly-dreams]

For once in Hotaru's life, she could find no silver lining.

At the very beginning, when their temporary heaven had become a gilded cage— when they were told that they were to kill, be killed, or somehow survive, she'd had the hardest time seeking out what could possibly be beautiful about that. Witnessing Ikumoto's violent, cruelly architected fate had only made it harder. But she'd stood before her class and smiled, and she told them all to live on in his memory.

In the courtroom, she'd been able to convince herself that there was some form of dignity in finding Dimitri's killer. There had been genuine pride in exposing the one who had robbed him of life, in sending him peace even after his story met its final chapter. That was the only beacon that guided Hotaru through the shadows of the dreadful night.

When Katashi had confessed, when he'd met the own finale to his legendary saga, it had been difficult there too. Watching his own light flicker out in such a prolonged, cruel manner had driven a nail into the glassy fragments of her heart— but she'd managed to find hope there too. Katashi had been freed of his mistakes; he didn't have to worry about breaking character anymore, about who or what he'd upset if he let himself be free.

Hotaru fit her namesake well— she was a light among repressive darkness. She could keep shining on no matter if her wings were liberated or if she stared out from the glassy walls of a mason jar.

But this felt more like someone had covered up the jar until her light finally gave up.

The illusionist shuddered against the concrete, her whole elegant presence evaporated into nothingness. Gone, truly, were her threatrics and radiance. All that remained here was a tiny figurine, the rain storming so hard against her delicate frame that nothing else in the world mattered because she'd never see the world again.

But then there was another presence there— someone warm and nurturing, and Hotaru found herself a moth to flame. She felt something smooth and metallic in her fingertips again before she moved against the other person, clinging tightly to the person who stood by her side.

The illusionist buried her face in Makoto Inaba's shoulder, holding onto the skeptic for dear life— as though the world might disappear if she let go.

[akedocitydespair]

Stella / Open ✦ Clarity

[stellamethyst]

firefly-dreams:

She wasn’t sure why, of all places, the hotel pool sang her name.

Hotaru had never really been a hydromaniac in the past— in fact, when she was a child, dipping her toes into the water often sent shudders down her spine. Sure, it was beautiful, and undeniably so, but—

When you were in the water, you surrendered your control. You surrendered your oxygen, your gravity, your sight and smell, your most basic of abilities— and that had always seemed so terrifying. In the water, you were subject to it and it alone. In the water, there could be a thousand people swarming with you and you could still feel completely and utterly alone.

Maybe that was it, then— the prospect of disappearing. The prospect of silence, the prospect of solitude.

As an extrovert through and through, Hotaru hated being alone— she was always desperate to spread love and light to other people, fighting for approval until she couldn’t stand on her own limbs any longer. In the end of the day, she could be a macabrely assembled amalgamation of broken pieces, and still she’d keep on smiling if only it prevented people from leaving.

But it seemed that no one would want to be around her now— not after she’d practically fallen to pieces in front of a group of rational and understand others.

So, with whatever force that guided her, Hotaru had pulled away her ribbons and scarves, leaving her lengthy layers of lilac curls flowing freely around her shoulders, quickly slipped the chain from her normal amulet into her Firefly clip, and slid into a mulberry swimsuit before disappearing down the halls.

She needed silence. She needed to worry about something beyond this mess. She needed to go to a place where she couldn’t hurt anyone else ever again.

But that plan changed the minute she entered the pool room.

A mass of silken ebony hair drifted on the surface of the waters, falling perfectly over enigmatic eyes. The countenance that regarded her was twisted with…annoyance? That had to be it. Still, there was no point in turning around— Stella Ethereal had seen her, and Hotaru was not the kind of person to run away without explanation.

“O-oh…hello, Ethereal-san,” Hotaru said, smiling, suddenly ashamed. Stella had practically carried the trial— she’d been the one bold enough to approach everyone, she’d addressed evidence beautifully and aptly, and she’d had the confidence and willpower to narrow it all down. She was everything Hotaru was not— and the illusionist was positive that someone like Stella Ethereal was not going to spend time with a little girl who cried over someone raising their voice.

Stella deserved better.

Stella tilted her head questionably at the girl. Now this was, for sure, the worst type of first conversation one could have with their classmate. It was at the top, for sure. There was a small moment of silence as Stella just waded in the water, unsure how to respond. Then, as natural as her tangled hair, she gave a bright, toothy smile. 

“’Guess we had the same thoughts, huh?” 

Then, the seer disappeared under the water, her black hair fading into the pool before popping back up closer to the edge where Hotaru stood. “The water isn’t too bad, actually. Like, it was cold at first, but it’s still feels nice. Fancy.” Stella would definitely not know a thing or two about fancy, but she liked water. “You know how to swim, right? Keheh!”

[firefly-dreams]

"You could say that," Hotaru said, managing a smile as she fiddled with the chain of her makeshift amulet, her irregular breathing starting to ease as her fingers curled around the golden firefly's delicate metal embellishments.

She couldn't have picked a worse time, nor a worse scenario. Here she stood, before someone she respected with all her heart, having humiliated herself only hours before. Paranoia bubbled within the illusionist's fluttering heart, gripping her entire being with a cold and cruel grasp— boreal shadows creeping down her spine, unrelenting in their presence.

What if she embarrassed herself in front of Stella Ethereal again?

Hotaru stared at the tiled floor for a moment, searching for the most ideal choice of words before she even thought of speaking. She didn't want the crystal gazer to assume she'd melt at the sight of a drop of rain— she didn't want her to think that even the slightest change in intonation could send her into a sobbing mess in the already slick floor. Oh lights above, what if Stella figured that Hotaru only came to the pool as an excuse to cry where no one could tell what were tears and what was water?

What if she'd made everyone assume she was nothing but a crybaby— the kind of girl who could hardly handle a situation of any degree of intensity? Luckily, before the illusionist could babble on about something Stella wouldn't care about, or say something of an incredibly frivolous nature, the crystal gazer spoke up once more.

"Well, that's a given— it takes time for body temperature to become accustomed to external temperatures," Hotaru said, carefully measuring out the dimensions of the pool. "I certainly know how to swim. I may be a Firefly, but my wings know no limitations."

And with that, the illusionist leapt into the deepest end of the pool, relishing in the heavy, murky silence that enveloped her alongside the water. It may only last a moment, and time could pass so quickly when you needed it to least, but she would live in every little moment no matter how fleeting.

Seconds later, she reappeared at the surface, curls shock-straight. "See?"

[akedocitydespair]

Metamorphosis | Chapter 2 | Hoshi

[shslconceptartist-blog]

firefly-dreams:

She should have known that the Nexus Lounge would be the worst possible place to sit in mourning or sorrow.

It was true enough that various new locations had opened up within the city, and any other day she’d be vivaciously exploring any open doors she could find— but here and now, in this sad little state of mind, she hardly felt like dragging herself out of her bed, let alone taking a longer walk to another place which could ultimately culminate in her death.

Still, maybe the unmotivated sauntering would be infinitely better than the inevitable taunts she was sure to receive at the hands of the people who were supposed to be her classmates. She didn’t peg Hoshi as the mean type, certainly, but…Katashi had proven to be a thousand types of cruel wrapped up in wire kitty ears and sparkly smiles. If she couldn’t trust someone like that, who could she trust?

Goodness gracious, darkness below, ignorance was underrated.

“…Salutations, Murakami-san,” Hotaru said, her voice flat and…void, muffled slightly by the material of her fan. “I have more time than I know what to do with….what do you need?”

Need me to keep smiling as you beat my self-esteem in? Need me to serve as some sick, sadistic entertainment for you?! Do you need me to sit down and keep babbling on about how amazing everything is as you address me with every slur or cruel name you can think of?! Is that it?! Is that it?!! Because you’re going to have to get in line!

…no, she was being…cruel. She was being judgmental and horrible and she’d never even spoken to the concept artist before now. He’d never know what she’d thought, but…she would, and it hurt to see how far her love for everything had fallen down the hole.

…Let’s try that again.

“…ahem, salutations, Mura-tan,” Hotaru chimed, her voice strained still. “I’m absolutely free! What do you need?!” Her tone was raw and pained, but the excessive sugar seemed to overflow— she was fighting too hard in a battle she wasn’t going to win.

A battle she’d started on her own, in that matter.

Hoshi didn’t appear at all bothered by Hotaru’s current appearance or even her tone. In all honesty, he had come here for the free unlimited soda fountain, but on seeing Hotaru in here as well, he’d been reminded of one of his few missions he had assigned himself. 

“Mm….can’t say I need much…coming by to grab some soda, heh….”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sketchbook, pulling out a single sheet that had already had the perforated edge removed. He took a moment to ensure it was the right drawing– one he had done some work on last night when he found himself once again unable to sleep– and then held it out to Hotaru. 

“…mm, but when I noticed you were in here…thought I’d give you this while it was still on my mind…mm, if you want it, that is…”

On the paper was a drawing simply done in pencil. It was a full illustration, in fact, of a floating island with a single lighthouse atop it. The lighthouse appeared to be fueled by nothing but magical wisps and lightning bugs (as well as his picture could convey that idea, anyway).

[firefly-dreams]

...fair enough, of course.

She couldn't blame Hoshi for his initial conquest. An unlimited soda fountain was nothing to stick up one's nose at, after all— and she knew everyone had their special drinks that increased the effectiveness of their work, or somehow brightened up their day. For Hotaru, it was tea, but everyone's cup of tea was perhaps...not a cup of tea.

Still, the fact that the concept artist had put effort into something for her at all made her feel...less empty than before.

"Wow, it's beautiful, Mura-tan..." Hotaru mused as she examined the sheet of paper. Despite the lack of color and the limited selection of tools, Hoshi had found much success in conveying his mind's design— the rocky edges of the floating island spiraling together in a flawless synchronization, the surface coated in layer upon layer of grass. The lighthouse itself was delicate and beautiful— shaded and shadowed just perfectly as a sign of the light glittering through it.

And of course, the fireflies were the true beauty— floating in harmony around the lighthouse, transmitting their own luminescence into the beacon. The entire sketch radiated magic from the top to the bottom.

The lightning bugs forgotten in Hotaru's heart started buzzing.

"You're a really gifted artist," she said, smiling up at Hoshi as sincerely as she could manage. "The detailing is so elegant and intricate...how long did it take?"

[akedocitydespair]

Stella / Open ✦ Clarity

Stella had been right, again. She thought they had altered fate. They hadn’t, not by a long shot. Instead, she led them towards the revelation of a second body, and naturally, that sort of trauma was too much for her. The power of the amethyst could only do so much in these trying times, but in the end, it was a matter that she would have to work on herself. So, everyone eventually left, off in their own worlds to themselves. 

To cope, if you will, in whatever way that would help. For now, Stella needed that escape too. She didn’t want to look at anyone, she just had overwhelming urge to isolate herself. Stand somewhere and stare at a wall, whatever a teenage girl would do in moments of tragedy or something. Her thoughts were hard to organize.

So, after an hour or so in her room, Stella eventually led herself to another location that she hadn’t gotten the chance to explore. 

Why not escape into the hotel pool? No one had seemed drawn to it, it felt like the perfect place to dive into and just… sink in. With her nose just above surface level, blowing bubbles, the occasional slipping underwater to watch empty blue. Her black hair tangled the surface, like an octopus releasing ink to hide from its predators.

Stella wondered for a moment of what her next vision would be like. The last few that had come to her were all related to tragic events, signaling the oncoming deaths of her classmates. There had to be more that she could do than just that. Her time during the investigation had proved itself useful in court. Ugh, that was a thought she really didn’t want to think about.

The soft foot steps clapping against the tile caught her ear. She slowly rose in the water, just enough so her chin was above surface level. 

Damn. She really didn’t think anyone would show interest at a time like this. It made her feel exhausted, but…

“Seriously?”

… She would still respond, naturally. Even in times where she would want to be alone, there was a little part of her that craved some company too.

[firefly-dreams]

She wasn't sure why, of all places, the hotel pool sang her name.

Hotaru had never really been a hydromaniac in the past— in fact, when she was a child, dipping her toes into the water often sent shudders down her spine. Sure, it was beautiful, and undeniably so, but—

When you were in the water, you surrendered your control. You surrendered your oxygen, your gravity, your sight and smell, your most basic of abilities— and that had always seemed so terrifying. In the water, you were subject to it and it alone. In the water, there could be a thousand people swarming with you and you could still feel completely and utterly alone.

Maybe that was it, then— the prospect of disappearing. The prospect of silence, the prospect of solitude.

As an extrovert through and through, Hotaru hated being alone— she was always desperate to spread love and light to other people, fighting for approval until she couldn't stand on her own limbs any longer. In the end of the day, she could be a macabrely assembled amalgamation of broken pieces, and still she'd keep on smiling if only it prevented people from leaving.

But it seemed that no one would want to be around her now— not after she'd practically fallen to pieces in front of a group of rational and understand others.

So, with whatever force that guided her, Hotaru had pulled away her ribbons and scarves, leaving her lengthy layers of lilac curls flowing freely around her shoulders, quickly slipped the chain from her normal amulet into her Firefly clip, and slid into a mulberry swimsuit before disappearing down the halls.

She needed silence. She needed to worry about something beyond this mess. She needed to go to a place where she couldn't hurt anyone else ever again.

But that plan changed the minute she entered the pool room.

A mass of silken ebony hair drifted on the surface of the waters, falling perfectly over enigmatic eyes. The countenance that regarded her was twisted with...annoyance? That had to be it. Still, there was no point in turning around— Stella Ethereal had seen her, and Hotaru was not the kind of person to run away without explanation.

"O-oh...hello, Ethereal-san," Hotaru said, smiling, suddenly ashamed. Stella had practically carried the trial— she'd been the one bold enough to approach everyone, she'd addressed evidence beautifully and aptly, and she'd had the confidence and willpower to narrow it all down. She was everything Hotaru was not— and the illusionist was positive that someone like Stella Ethereal was not going to spend time with a little girl who cried over someone raising their voice.

Stella deserved better.

[akedocitydespair]

Metamorphosis | Chapter 2 | Hoshi

[shslconceptartist-blog]

akedocitydespair:

It took a caterpillar anywhere from one to two weeks to transform into a butterfly.

The fuzzy little creatures would always begin as an egg— tiny and helpless, a sweet little bundle of hope getting its first chance at birth. As soon as those little walls cracked around it, it would become a larva— a caterpillar, ready to munch on all the leaves it could find. Not too far ahead in the future was, of course, its retreat into a chrysalis. It shielded itself from the world, giving it all the time and privacy it needed to be reborn as something beautiful.

Something beautiful could come out of something helpless— something pathetic. Hotaru couldn’t wait until her time for metamorphosis came along.

Ever since the trial, the illusionist had piled under the blankets in her room, cocooning herself in the plush and fluffy layers of cloth, hoping that maybe if she stayed there for long enough all of her strength and love could come back. They had run away and abandoned her in no time at all, disappearing into the distance like children in search of a life unlimited. Hotaru would wait at her doorway, wrapped in her shawls and waiting for her treasures to come running back into her soft embrace.

She had to hold out for her happy ending. That was how storybooks always went. The heroine and her friends would suffer loss and betrayal and heartbreak, but it would always be okay in the end— they’d always find their happy ending, and never let the memory of those they’d lost die.

That was how science went. If a tiny, pathetic, fragile little egg could blossom into a prismatic butterfly— she could too. She needed to wait for it.

She was patient. She could wait.

Hotaru put little to no effort into her appearance when she woke up in the morning— leaving her lilac curls unkempt and loose, tumbling down her back and over her shoulders without the braid that locked them in. She still donned her flowing scarves and light ensemble, but they didn’t seem to carry the same lack of weight they had before— as though her scarves and silken ribbons had been traded for chains she couldn’t see. She’d taken her fan and unfurled it in her fingers, diligently concealing her lower face as she meandered down to the lobby.

For once in her life, she’d abandoned her journal in her room.

She didn’t deserve to be among the others. She didn’t deserve her title as a fighter for hope— she could pretend all she wanted, she could smile sweetly and concoct the sugary ramblings of the century until glucose winked out of existence, but it didn’t change a thing.

Hotaru Azamaku was a crybaby. The best thing she’d done in the trial was curl up where no one could see her.

It was only a matter of time, then, until people started saying things like they used to. It wasn’t going to be long until everyone waltzed up to her and started laughing— she could practically hear the voices of the kids from her old school, giggling as she picked up a spider to save it from being crushed, taunting her as she spent her lunchtime passionately working on assignments just so she could spend as much of the day working on her journal as possible, whispering behind her back as she studied something as frivolous as magic.

She was going to go straight back to being freakshow.

But she deserved it. Hotaru deserved it more than anything else on earth— she’d been stupid and weak and naive, and no matter how much she missed the blissful blindness of ignoring her own sadness, she knew she could never redeem herself.

The illusionist winced as a set of footsteps started off behind her— feet she didn’t recognize. She glanced back, still hiding her mouth beneath her fan. She…winced again as she noted who it was.

Hoshi Murakami, the Super High School Level Concept Artist, who’d had a front row ticket to her never ending breakdowns in the trial. Was he here to call her out on how pathetic she was? Was he planning on just taunting her? Blaming her for the course of the trial? Was that how this was supposed to go?!

Was her metamorphosis meant to be forever prolonged?

Hoshi Murakami was on a mission. 

Well…a few missions probably at this point, none of which ever seemed particularly urgent by his demeanor. A building could be on fire and he’d still end up taking his sweet time making his way out, not willing to look too frantic or desperate. Still, sitting through that trial was far more drama than he would have been okay with. Seeing the illusionist’s reaction alone was just too much…maybe there was some way he could get rid of some of the bad vibes. They didn’t suit anyone but him, as far as he was concerned.

He was useless, his talent was utterly pointless in this city, but the whole thing about being a Kibogamine student was the idea of bringing hope out, huh? He guessed he didn’t have much choice but to try to let that talent do something of worth for once. 

“Mm…hey Azamaku-san…sup? You got a sec…?”

[firefly-dreams]

She should have known that the Nexus Lounge would be the worst possible place to sit in mourning or sorrow.

It was true enough that various new locations had opened up within the city, and any other day she'd be vivaciously exploring any open doors she could find— but here and now, in this sad little state of mind, she hardly felt like dragging herself out of her bed, let alone taking a longer walk to another place which could ultimately culminate in her death.

Still, maybe the unmotivated sauntering would be infinitely better than the inevitable taunts she was sure to receive at the hands of the people who were supposed to be her classmates. She didn't peg Hoshi as the mean type, certainly, but...Katashi had proven to be a thousand types of cruel wrapped up in wire kitty ears and sparkly smiles. If she couldn't trust someone like that, who could she trust?

Goodness gracious, darkness below, ignorance was underrated.

"...Salutations, Murakami-san," Hotaru said, her voice flat and...void, muffled slightly by the material of her fan. "I have more time than I know what to do with....what do you need?"

Need me to keep smiling as you beat my self-esteem in? Need me to serve as some sick, sadistic entertainment for you?! Do you need me to sit down and keep babbling on about how amazing everything is as you address me with every slur or cruel name you can think of?! Is that it?! Is that it?!! Because you're going to have to get in line!

...no, she was being...cruel. She was being judgmental and horrible and she'd never even spoken to the concept artist before now. He'd never know what she'd thought, but...she would, and it hurt to see how far her love for everything had fallen down the hole.

...Let's try that again.

"...ahem, salutations, Mura-tan," Hotaru chimed, her voice strained still. "I'm absolutely free! What do you need?!" Her tone was raw and pained, but the excessive sugar seemed to overflow— she was fighting too hard in a battle she wasn't going to win.

A battle she'd started on her own, in that matter.

[finding-fallen-stars]

(Interaction from my first thread with Masae!!!)

[stellamethyst]

time to find the Truth™

[akedocitydespair]

A Bird's Final Song | Body Reaction

The record for the longest period of time a plane had ever flown was just under sixty-five days.

Bob Timm and John Cook had been the masters of this flight, orchestrating all sixty four or so days so that the plane never even hoped to touch the ground. Reconstructed to bear more fuel and linked to a truck that supplied additional fuel to the plane as well as sustenance to the pilot, the duo had achieved the impossible— flight that knew no limitations, free to cease whenever it chose, but maintains its airborne status for about three months.

It was amazing, truly, how technology could mimic the creatures of the earth. How cameras can capture happenings in life, how boats can defy water itself and float above the deathly waves, and how imitations of birds woven by metal could hold vast amounts of people and soar all the same.

Hotaru had ridden an airplane many times before. However, the first one would always be the most memorable. It was a trip to America, above the skyscrapers of Chicago— her first venture beyond Japan, her first experience in another culture.

The illusionist had anxiously bounced up and down, glancing between the window and the aisle of the plane. She’d been unable to sit still, the idea of soaring above the world she’d been bound to her whole life truly illustrious. She’d squeezed her mother’s hand, azure eyes fixated on the warmth in her mother’s countenance as the engines began to spin.

And as the plane had begun to soar, so had Hotaru’s heart.

That was the beauty in flight— you feel weightless, unburdened by the suffering of whatever may transpire beneath you. You forget about all the sadness beneath, you forget about the expectations— all that matters is that you’re flying.

The saddest part was always when it was over. And it was no different here.

The illusionist stared at Dimitri’s corpse with shock and horror swirling in her gaze. Lips parted in understated terror, eyes wide, arms wrapped tightly around her person in order to anchor herself to the here and now, to keep all the uncertainty away. She had to be making this up. This had to be a cruel, vile trick her mind was playing— she was having an episode, that was it. She’d fall in her bed in tears and shake above the sheets, and eventually the agony of her mind would stop spiraling and spiraling so everything would just stop and be okay and she’d never be happier to have been hallucinating—

But if this was a hallucination, it certainly defied the capacity of any other hallucination she’d suffered.

No. It was all real.

Hotaru stared at Dimitri— her friend, her comrade in arms, her fellow lightgiver. It was wrong— he was so sweet and kind and incapable of hurting people, he’d told her his secret which he hadn’t even intentionally committed— he’d admired her and stood by her side and he’d been her friend.

The illusionist burst into tears, her knees buckling as she collapsed in the doorway. She didn’t hold back as she melted into horrendous sobs, hands clapped over her eyes to shield herself from the cruelest, most undeniable illusion yet. Those glassy drops poured from her eyes, a relentless cascade as she fought to come to terms with the horrors before her.

Why did good people suffer?

Hotaru swallowed, her throat burning, her heart racing, eyes still wet. Her hands furiously trembled as she gazed upon…a corpse. A dead body. A fallen friend, a person she’d never gotten to say goodbye to.

…she couldn’t just sit here and cry.

The illusionist crawled over to Dimitri’s side, gingerly squeezing his lifeless hand and blowing a little friendly kiss his way. She looked into those olive eyes, sadly smiling as she met his gaze.

“…I’ll miss you, Tri-tan,” she said, her voice strained. “…don’t worry, your death won’t have been in vain. We’ll find out who did this to you— we’ll make sure you have a happy afterlife. Until then, say hi to Iku-tan for me…I’m sure there’ll be lots of metal birds up there for you. Goodnight, Captain of the Metal Birds— rest well…you were a wonderful, wonderful friend.”

And friends never went forgotten.

[akedocitydespair]

there's no way!!!!! | ryohei | re: motive | open

[takatobiz-blog]

firefly-dreams:

Watching everyone else break down was the hardest part.

Hotaru knew it wasn’t easy to admit the darkest corners of one’s soul— it wasn’t easy to pretend everything was fine and bear your secrets for the whole world to see. She’d never ask anyone else here to tell.

She didn’t understand what people had been through. She didn’t know and she couldn’t be expected to ask everyone else to tell as well. It had been so…so difficult to tell her classmates and the spectators of their grisly situation about the thing that she only hid away because people couldn’t see her the same way if she told. It was scary. She didn’t know who here would love her the same, and who here would turn up their noses and begin that same cryptic song of taunting.

So she figured it was best if she tried to heal others rather than beg them to join her in telling.

She had never interacted with Ryohei Seijuro — the High Jumper, the Chaser of the Clouds, as she’d mentally branded him. But making a guess from his reaction to their newfound incentive? Now was a better time than ever.

“Hello, Ryo-tan,” the illusionist said softly as she approached the high jumper, her expression sweet and nonthreatening. “I…I just wanted to tell you that I know this is so, so scary and…I’m here for you, okay? Do you need my help with anything?”

Today was A Day. Actually, the entire week had been… dare he think it… A Week. Caps. Maybe bold too. Ryohei, so used to just not thinking at all, was about to overheat from all the work his brain was doing. How they had got that video was haunting him! It was impossible! So caught up in his own thoughts was Ryohei that he couldn’t help but jump a little as someone approached him.

“Huh–" he began, turning towards her, only to stop and take in her entirely Not At All Scary Appearance. “U-Um, hi…?” He was so confused. Wasn’t she scared as well? Why wasn’t she crying like the rest of them?

“Uh, thank you…” Ryohei raised a hand to rub the snot from his nose. Gross. “That’s really– really nice, sorry– I can’t get rid of this freaking– Achoo!” He turned away from her as he sneezed, a little glob of snot landing on the floor with a smack. …Ew. “Help? Oh!” Suddenly, he beamed.

“Actually, soft-girl-san, I do need your help!” he suddenly grinned wildly, as if he’d forgotten about the tears. “With my PDA! I need to destroy it!” 

Ryohei paused for a moment, his brain whirring. 

“Oh! And also what’s your name?!”

[firefly-dreams]

There were few other ways to remedy such sorrow, she couldn't help but think, than with a warm hand and empathy that knew no limitations. These rules were solid and unwavering particularly in a situation such as this.

"It's really very nice to meet you, Ryo-tan," Hotaru chimed, sweetly smiling at her classmate. "My name is Hotaru Azamaku— I'm the Super High School Level Illusionist."

The illusionist really was impossible to fear — standing at such a low height, with sparkling blue eyes and soft lilac tresses, composed completely of curves and rounded angles, lacking any sharpness or edge to every part of her. She seemed designed for docility— crafted to comfort before all else.

"Destroy the PDA?" She exclaimed, her eyes widening slightly. "Is it possible to? Even if it is, wh...what if the bear attacks you for breaking it! Ryo-tan, please, I know that whatever is on there must be really very sad and scary, but I don't want you to get hurt!"