@phantasmalnightmare
"Hey, Izumi-chan, before we hang up, have you given any thought to the Budokan show?" Before she could even say anything, one of the men on the screen nudged the other forcefully, nearly flattening him against the inside of the car door. "Hey, Nakamura, off-limit topic." Nakamura shrugged. "Just thought I'd ask. No rush, Izumi-chan. It's still months away, and GOZU and MEZU are happy to fill in if you're not up for it."
"I will," Izumi agreed, fidgeting with her free hand in her lap. "I'll... I'll t-try." Akiyama nodded. "You've got time to think it over. Probably won't be able to talk much while we're touring abroad, but until we're back, stay in school, listen to your Pops, and call Michi if you need anything." She gave a weak nod. "Mmhmm. Um, say hi to Kumagai-san and Honda-san for me. A-ah, and GOZU-san and MEZU-san too." "Will do." Nakamura flashed her a peace sign. "We're pulling up to the airport. Later."
Once the call ended, Izumi gave a soft sigh as she laid her phone down next to the mixing console built into her desk. There was no guarantee of another BAKEMONO album, nor another tour. The Budokan show could very well be her only chance to perform live with her bandmates, so it would be better if she could beat her anxiety and perform. That was easier said than done, though, and while a few months' window might have been helpful for other people, it just hung over her like a swinging sword waiting to fall.
The lack of things to do in the meantime didn't help matters. The school had been kind enough to accommodate her as a false "Lucky Student" - a role that seemed not to demand from her anything in particular. With the band touring, all she had to work on was her solo output. Maybe it was the anxiety of the looming show, or maybe she just hadn't gotten fully settled in the studio Hope's Peak had set up for her. Either way, even her next Zuminn project was going slow.
Typically, Izumi split her gear between school and her home studio. It was easier to keep up the image of being a Lucky Student without a notable Talent if she wasn't hauling her gig bag back and forth. Still... the Zuminn song she wanted to work on needed a deep, thrumming sound that called for a 7-string. Her Explorer wouldn't do the job, so she'd need to bag up her AZ and take it home. If she were lucky, maybe the familiar feeling of her home studio would get the creative juices flowing. Maybe she could dig out her old fuzz pedal and play around that.
Whenever she was moving gear between home and school, Izumi knew to stay late and come earlier, so that she wouldn't run into any other students who might ask questions. Thankfully, the call with her bandmates - plus beating her head against the wall trying to come up with ideas - had eaten up the afternoon, so when Izumi stepped out of her lab, gig bag strapped over her shoulders, it was unquestionably evening. There shouldn't be anyone still hanging around except some maintenance staff and maybe a few teachers.
Instead, what Izumi found in the school's courtyard was another student, one she recognized. As a member of the 79th class, she hadn't memorized all of the older students yet, but 77-B's Ibuki Mioda wasn't someone anyone could forget - Izumi especially, given how similar their talents were. Just past the door, she froze. Ibuki wasn't someone who would believe an easy lie about why Izumi was carrying around a guitar on her back, and the gate towards the street was a straight line, meaning there was no going around her.
Then again, wasn't she supposed to be sort of inattentive? Maybe she wouldn't even notice, and besides, she was sitting at one of the benches by the fountain. Izumi wouldn't walk close enough where it would be normal to call out to her, and it wasn't like they had any kind of existing relationship that would make it natural for Ibuki to strike up a conversation.
Right. She could do this, she thought. Just walk past like nothing was out of the ordinary, say nothing, and then scamper home as soon as she passed the school gate. Easy! Somewhere between her brain and her feet, though, the message got confused, leading the girl to trip over a cobblestone. Instinctively, she held her arms out, so that she wouldn't roll or slide in a way that would put any weight or pressure on the guitar safely bagged on her back. In doing so, she landed flat on her face with a thump and then a whimper, right in the middle of the pathway.














