Red Ribbons & Hidden Thorns

[Tuesday – 4:15 PM | Cultural Fest Announcement Hall]

The courtyard buzzed like a beehive.

Glitter banners. Sign-up sheets. Club booths.

Aroma of sweet mochi and wet ink floated in the air.

The annual Sakura High Cultural Festival had been announced — and suddenly, the gloom Reika left behind had been buried under student council hashtags and performance rehearsals.

But not for Aika.

She stood beneath the announcement board, reading the poster like it was a warning.

"Theme: Mirror Realms – What hides beneath our brightest reflections?"

Irony hits different when your whole life was a reflection.

[Music Club Room – 5:03 PM]

Mio ran fingers through her curls, sweat dotting her forehead.

The room was filled with piano notes, violin squeals, a confused flutist, and an arguing drama club girl about lighting angles.

"I signed up for music, not war," Sora muttered from the corner.

Mio grinned. "You're the one who suggested doing a live performance piece."

"Yeah. I said 'live', not 'chaotic apocalypse'."

"Same thing," Aika mumbled behind them, arms crossed.

Sora turned, raising an eyebrow. "You okay?"

Aika stared at the festival rehearsal room, then at Kiyomi, who gracefully placed her ballet shoes near the piano bench.

"…She's leading the choreography now?" Aika asked.

"She volunteered," Mio said. "And everyone kind of… followed her."

"She commands a room," Sora muttered.

"Yeah," Aika replied softly. "Just like Reika did."

[Flashback – Sunday Night | Kiyomi's Room]

Kiyomi stared at her mirror, wearing a silk robe. She touched the photo tucked in its corner — Reika holding her and laughing during summer.

"You always lead with your eyes, cousin. But I'll lead with silence."

[Festival Committee Board – Wednesday]

Performance List:

"Moonlit Echoes: A Dance Through Secrets"

Cast: Sora (Violin), Mio (Visual backdrop), Kiyomi (Lead Dance), Aika (Piano)

"What the hell is 'Moonlit Echoes'?" Sora asked.

"A conceptual blend of shadow art, live piano, and ballet," Kiyomi answered. "It's about the masks we wear in love."

Aika's hand clenched around the piano sheet.

"So we're performing our story, basically?" she said coldly.

"No," Kiyomi replied, gaze unblinking. "We're reclaiming it."

[Thursday – 6:47 PM | Piano Room]

Aika stared at the keys.

Kiyomi stood nearby, stretching silently. Her posture was graceful, but there was tension in the air.

"You don't have to pretend to care," Aika said.

"I'm not pretending."

"You're her blood. You think I ruined her."

Kiyomi turned, expression soft. "No, Aika. Reika ruined herself. But loving you was the only beautiful thing she ever did right."

Aika froze.

That wasn't an attack.

That was a wound shared.

"…Then why are you here?" Aika whispered.

Kiyomi met her eyes. "To make sure you don't get ruined next."

[Friday – Dorm Rooftop – 11:32 PM]

Sora lit another cigarette. She didn't smoke it. Just held it.

Mio sat beside her, arms around knees.

"Kiyomi's… different. She doesn't push like Reika. She melts around people."

"She's strategic," Sora said. "Silk over steel."

Mio nodded. "But she said something to Aika. It... shook her."

"Maybe she's not here to fight us," Mio added.

"Or maybe," Sora said, flicking the cigarette into the air, "she's just better at looking like a savior while she builds her throne."

[Festival Eve – Saturday]

The stage had been set.

Ribbons — black and red — wrapped the pillars.

Mirror frames reflected candlelight in eerie flickers.

And under the center spotlight, four names quietly danced toward destiny.

[Night Before the Show – Mio's Room – 1:10 AM]

Mio stared at her sketch.

It was the stage. Four figures.

But this time, one had no face.

She didn't know if that was Reika, or if it was herself — unsure who she really was without her drawings, her loyalty, her grief.

Then a knock.

Sora.

"I couldn't sleep," she said.

Mio moved aside.

They didn't talk much.

They just laid there.

Mio whispered, "If we mess up tomorrow…"

"We won't," Sora replied.

"But if we do… promise you won't vanish again."

Sora paused.

Then: "Only if you promise to sketch yourself into that picture too next time."

[Festival Day – Sunday | Performance Begins – 6:00 PM]

The auditorium went dark.

A hush fell.

Piano notes began — Aika's fingers trembling, but steady.

Violin — Sora's cue, haunting and low.

Visuals — Mio's sketches projected behind them, animated like moving pain.

Then came Kiyomi.

She danced like a poem unraveling.

Every spin, every stretch was a confession.

A whisper.

A wound.

And at the climax — when the mirrors shattered on cue — Aika's music stopped for a beat too long.

Silence.

Then… her fingers returned.

Faster.

Harder.

Fiercer.

Tears in her eyes.

After the final note faded, there was dead silence.

Then —

Applause. Deafening.

People stood.

Some cried.

Some whispered.

Some stared.

But none forgot.

[Backstage – 6:37 PM]

Aika sat on the edge of the platform, legs swinging.

Kiyomi approached, holding water.

"You didn't miss your cue," she said.

"I paused," Aika replied. "I let her memory in."

"That's okay. She was part of this too."

Aika looked up. "You're staying, aren't you?"

Kiyomi smiled. "For now."

Sora watched them from a distance.

Mio took her hand.

"She's not Reika," Mio whispered.

"I know," Sora said. "But she's a mirror. And mirrors… they cut."