So… the effects of that incident still hadn’t ended.
So… Soyo had never truly been able to let go of the past. The one who was really sensitive and fragile wasn’t Tomori—it was the girl standing right in front of her, Nagasaki Soyo.
Everything suddenly made sense.
Why Soyo could write those lyrics—the kind of lyrics that felt like something only Tomori could have written, so rich with emotion.
Maybe composition could be refined with talent and effort, but lyric writing… that was something deeply personal.
Lyrics were like a reflection of oneself. A mask, a mirror—the shape of a person’s inner world.
Soyo had never been as carefree as she appeared. She always wore a smile, always used that slightly artificial, almost performative voice when chatting about everyday things with others.
But that voice wasn’t just a quirk—it was a cover, a filter through which her loneliness was forced to pass, leaving behind only the folds and creases of old scars.
That smile was her camouflage. Because aside from facing this broken reality with a smile, what else could she do to move on?
…But seriously? Over a band? Was it really worth all this?
Taki wanted to ask her. She wanted to say, A band isn’t your whole life. Why would you push yourself this far over something so small?
But she didn’t feel like she had the right to say that.
Because Taki herself… was someone who, because of her ridiculous inferiority complex, had distanced herself from others again and again, hurting both them and herself in the process.
She… was also someone who, even knowing certain thoughts and actions were wrong, couldn’t stop herself from feeling that way.
Of course, all of this was just Taki’s own theory.
A bold one, at that.
Sure, it lined up with a lot of what she’d observed—but she had no real proof.
After all, the idea itself was insane. Dissociative identity disorder? That was something you saw in movies, TV shows, anime—not something you actually encountered in real life.
Then again… just because it wasn’t common didn’t mean it was fictional. DID was a real psychological disorder, not just some over-the-top sci-fi concept.
“U-uh… Taki, what did you mean just now? About me making a phone call?”
“Oh, nothing. Just asking. You were in there for a while, so I thought maybe you were calling someone—like Iseri Nina, maybe?”
Taki narrowed her eyes slightly.
She had noticed it just now—how Soyo had actually seemed nervous when she asked that question.
Was she hiding something?
She’d heard that, in cases of dissociative identity disorder, the host personality often wasn’t aware of the alters, but the alters could be aware of the host.
Of course, Taki wasn’t exactly an expert on this stuff. She needed more concrete evidence.
“Taki, didn’t you have something you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Oh, right.”
Taki hesitated for a moment. She decided against starting with an apology for how things had gone before—if anything, bringing it up would only remind Soyo of pressures she shouldn’t have to bear.
Instead, she stuck to her original plan.
“It’s like this… I…”
She paused.
Tomori’s state yesterday—Soyo had seen it too. And even though everyone was glad to have Soyo back, there was still a sense of unease hanging over them all.
Anon wasn’t ready for the stage. Raana wasn’t even here. And Tomori—she was still terrified that everything would end the moment the live was over.
“So I was thinking… maybe we should put everything on hold. Wait until everyone is ready before we go forward with the live.”
“I don’t think that’s the best idea.”
“Huh?”
Taki blinked.
She had expected Soyo to agree with her. Well—maybe not hoped, but expected.
“A band needs a goal. When everyone is lost, they need something to work toward.”
Soyo, backed by her strategist, spoke with unwavering confidence.
“If you spend your whole life just practicing in a studio, then sure—you won’t have to face failure. You won’t have to deal with an audience that might reject you.”
“But are you really planning to drift around like that forever? With no direction?”
“Honestly, if we do that, the band will just quietly fall apart without anyone even realizing it.”
“Someone once told me—rock bands are a stage for everyone. Each member of the band needs to let go, to release their emotions through music.”
“That kind of release comes from the clash of different perspectives—clashing until, eventually, you find resonance.”
“And that is what rock is all about.”
“…”
Taki studied the girl in front of her.
Something felt off.
This… didn’t sound like the words of the hesitant, fragile Soyo.
This sounded like someone else.
If she were to divide Soyo into two halves, Taki would call them the Bright Soyo and the Shadow Soyo.
Bright Soyo was more optimistic. Still sensitive, but able to adjust quickly—someone who, overall, seemed more reliable.
Like when she had comforted Taki after she scared Anon away. Back then, that Soyo had felt like someone you could trust.
She could accept others’ flaws and recognize her own.
Shadow Soyo, on the other hand, was fragile. Even more sensitive.
On the surface, she didn’t seem too different from her brighter counterpart—but that smile of hers could freeze up in an instant.
The first day she came alone to talk to Taki, whispering about Anon’s “flaws,” urging her and Tomori to stay away from her—that was Shadow Soyo.
And the one who, after realizing Tomori didn’t want to get on stage, immediately shrank back—who went silent and accepted the band’s breakup after just a few words from Taki—that was her, too.
“So, Soyo—you want everyone to push forward toward the live, no matter what?”
Looking at her now, Taki felt like this was definitely Bright Soyo speaking.
She wasn’t even scared of the whole split personality thing anymore.
At this point, she just felt like all of this—everything—was the fault of Sakiko.
That girl had started a band, pulled people in, let them become a part of something—and then just left without a word.
What did she even think their time together meant?
Had Togawa Sakiko… ever truly cared about anyone else’s feelings?
And then there was Soyo—who knew she might have to leave Japan soon, move to some unfamiliar country where all her memories would become meaningless.
So, to keep herself from breaking apart, she had split—had created a stronger version of herself to protect the part that was scared.
It all made too much sense.
Taki felt like she had finally grasped the truth.
She understood now—understood all the tragedies that had unfolded around CRYCHIC and Togawa Sakiko.
“Soyo… you don’t have to force yourself.”
“I’m not forcing myself.”
Soyo had no idea what kind of wild conclusions Taki had just drawn. She was simply following Chihiro’s carefully crafted plan, confidently staying on the path she had chosen.
“I want the live to happen as soon as possible. We can’t keep putting it off.”
“…Alright. I get it.”
Yeah.
They couldn’t put it off.
Because for Soyo—who might never get another chance to make new memories with everyone in Japan—every second that passed was a second she couldn’t afford to waste.
—
T/N: heh ATEM AND YUGI frfr watching the yugioh hololive tournament rn the big eveenentn
This is a fan translation of 素世同学，恭喜你被我优化了 by 杰克喵. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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