Chapter 7: The Nature of Gravity

This terrifying thought was fleeting, yet Tomori Takamatsu was frightened by it herself.

It was just a momentary impulse, yet she could almost visualize the cat’s miserable death, imagining the casual smile on her lips as she watched it struggle and gasp its last breath.

*How could I be such a person?*

Tomori stood up abruptly, her face pale.

"Tomori-chan?" Soyo sensed that something was wrong with the person beside her.

"I... I’m going to go wash my face." Leaving those words behind, Tomori hurried toward the end of the hallway.

At the sink, Tomori turned on the faucet, cupped some water in her hands, and splashed it onto her face, repeating the action several times.

She looked up into the mirror. Her bangs were plastered to her forehead by the water, looking messy, and strands of hair that should have been tucked behind her ears had escaped. Even though it was, of course, her own face, she felt like the figure in the mirror was a complete stranger.

This state of being had not just started today or yesterday. In fact, ever since Sakiko had left without a word, Tomori’s mental state had become increasingly hazy.

It wasn't a pathological condition—her body felt perfectly fine—but she would inexplicably experience strange emotions when dealing with certain things in life.

Suddenly feeling a surge of agitation and uncontrollable, violent thoughts, or feeling an intense dislike for someone nearby, or clenching her fists unconsciously when she heard a car horn blare too loudly...

These symptoms were often accompanied by all-night dreams. In those dreams, the sky was a perfect square. She would lie in the middle of a playground, looking up at the sky, naming every cloud. The clouds would respond to her; some laughed, some wept, and others sang songs she couldn't understand.

They would drift apart and then converge, turning into kittens to amuse her, or stallions galloping toward the setting sun. But without exception, they would all eventually transform into the same thing.

A hideous, majestic, and intricately detailed giant dragon head. She couldn't see its full form, only knowing that the shadow of its body, hidden behind the clouds, was so vast it seemed capable of shrouding the entire world.

Whenever it appeared, the white clouds would be gilded with a pale gold. Rays of light like threads of gold would burst forth, and the black dragon’s head would tear through the clouds, glaring down at the living beings below, its pupils appearing to flow with molten lava.

It was clearly just a product of cloud formations, yet it was vividly, unbelievably real. Every scale, every line, even those golden eyes like molten lava, were deeply etched into Tomori’s memory, lingering long after she awoke.

Tomori hadn't told anyone about this. She was afraid to go to the hospital alone, and she didn't want to tell her family or cause anyone trouble.

She felt sure that something was wrong, but how could dreams without physical pain prove she was sick? Who hasn't had bizarre, nonsensical dreams? When she was a child, she had even dreamed of riding a penguin as tall as a building to fight monsters with Ultraman and turn into light! Did that count as being sick, too?

Tomori filled the basin with water, took a sharp breath, and submerged her entire face, holding her breath. The chill overwhelmed her body, and her chaotic thoughts slowly calmed down.

Only when she could no longer hold her breath did a string of bubbles escape her lips. She jerked her head out of the water, gasping for air, and rubbed her cheeks vigorously with both hands.

"You’re fine, Tomori. It’s just a dream," she whispered, looking into her own eyes in the mirror to comfort herself.

She looked fine now, save for a lack of color in her face, but she had always been this way—fair-skinned—so it likely wouldn't be noticed.

After all, today was an important day.

When Tomori returned to the practice room, the cat at the door was gone, but there was a cat-like girl inside.

Mutsumi Wakaba was sitting on a stool by the window, cradling her guitar and carefully wiping it down, her long hair falling to cover half her face.

It was an ordinary scene, nothing special, but when Mutsumi Wakaba did it, it became a beautiful sight worthy of a painter's masterpiece.

Mutsumi’s father was a national-level comedian, and her mother was a wildly popular actress. As their daughter, Mutsumi had perfectly inherited their superior genes.

Skilled at guitar, capable of ballet, her pale green hair possessed a natural, luminous, translucent beauty. Her appearance was like an exquisite porcelain doll, and even though she rarely showed expression, she was always the center of attention in any crowd.

Fame, talent, beauty, status—the things most people craved were simply things Mutsumi was born with. The heroines of romance novels would likely only be fit to kneel and polish her shoes in her presence.

The crucial point was that she was so beautiful that one couldn't even feel jealous... She wasn't on any "most hated" lists, because everyone loved to look at a beautiful person.

This was what they meant by "angelic beauty." Such things could never be proven to exist, yet Mutsumi Wakaba stood right there in front of you, looking exactly as an angel should.

However, the Creator wasn't just biased in her favor; for all the windows opened for her, one door had to be closed. Mutsumi was a girl of few expressions and rarely initiated conversation.

They were all partners in the same band—Tomori was the vocalist, and Mutsumi was the guitarist—but the two of them weren't particularly close.

The reason was easy to understand: a quiet, eccentric type paired with a girl who was expressionless, emotionless, and silent. It wasn't just a match of equals—it was an unsolvable deadlock. If no other band members were around, they could easily turn into two stone statues, forever gazing at nothing.

"Good morning, Mutsumi." Tomori took the initiative to greet her.

Mutsumi nodded and went back to wiping her guitar. She wasn't rude; she was just bad at expressing emotions, so she kept her words to a minimum.

The air fell into a cursed silence. It was raining outside, and the atmosphere in the practice room became even more somber.

Feeling rebuffed, Tomori slunk off to find a spot to sit and write in her sketchbook, which contained many of the lyrics she had penned.

CryChic, the band, had been founded by Sakiko Togawa, who was, naturally, the backbone of the group.

When she wasn't around, Soyo Nagasaki usually took on the responsibility of lifting the mood, but at this moment, she was standing by the window, watching the traffic lights on the street below, her mind entirely consumed by why Sakiko hadn't arrived yet.

Human joy and sorrow are not universal; everyone has their own burdens.

"Sorry, I'm late." The door to the practice room opened, and the final member of CryChic, the drummer Taki Shiina, entered and hung her umbrella to the side.

Every competent team needs someone serious who urges everyone forward, and Taki was that person in the band.

With her straight black hair, beauty mark, solemn expression, and sharp tongue, everything about her signaled a character that was strict with herself and even stricter with others.

"Sakiko isn't here yet?" Taki frowned with displeasure the moment she saw the others.

No advance notice, not answering calls, not going to school, not showing up for practice—Sakiko Togawa had effectively vanished from the face of the earth for nearly three weeks. As the founder of the band, she was acting like an irresponsible owner who had simply walked away.

Forget a band; even for a school project or a part-time job at a café, disappearing without a word showed a total lack of regard for others.

Although she had heard rumors that the students at Haneoka were all proper "young ladies," Taki hadn't expected Sakiko to be this bad. What did she think the band was? A game of house for a rich girl? Did she just call everyone together to amuse herself? And now that she didn't want to play anymore, everyone else could just get lost?

Sakiko better have a reasonable explanation today, or Taki felt she might not be able to resist the urge to punch her.

That girl... she actually dared to toy with Tomori’s feelings!

"Sakiko-chan said she would come today." Soyo waved her phone; it was she who had forwarded the message last night, telling everyone to come today.

"Just one sentence? Where? What time?" Taki was relentless.

"I told her it was at the practice room. As for the time, whenever she’s free."

"So she can just drag the four of us here to wait for her? A young lady’s time is really precious, isn't it? She makes others do the scheduling, and she just shows up whenever she feels like it."

"Don't be like that." Seeing that Taki’s temper was on the verge of exploding, Soyo quickly tried to mediate. "Sakiko isn't that kind of person. I think something must have happened that forced her to cut off contact."

"She better have a reason." Taki left the words cold and sat down beside Tomori, no longer participating in the annoying conversation.

Soyo wanted to defend Sakiko further, but she couldn't think of what to say.

A girl who was willing to spend time finding band members, who cried because of the lyrics she wrote for the band, and who couldn't control her emotions after their first successful performance—she absolutely wasn't the type to treat forming CryChic as a game. There had to be a reason for the lack of contact; Soyo believed that firmly.

But after that message yesterday, Soyo had asked many questions, and Sakiko hadn't responded to any of them. She seemed unwilling to answer that question at all.

What could be so difficult that it couldn't be discussed face-to-face? As long as there was a willingness to communicate, any problem could be solved.

Soyo felt she had to talk to Sakiko. In the worst-case scenario, she might even have to use some extraordinary means.

She had a secret that no one knew: when she focused, her pupils would turn gold, and any sinister thing in front of those golden eyes would become dazed and willingly kneel in submission.

Calling it submission wasn't entirely accurate... it was more like being forcibly pinned down by something, unable to move.

She first discovered she had this ability a few months ago. On her way home, she encountered a thief on a motorbike who had stolen her bag. He seemed to have been watching her since she left school, only driving up to snatch her bass once they reached a quiet, isolated path.

The massive pull as he sped past knocked her to the ground, scraping her elbows and knees until they bled. The two thugs made triumphant shouts, and the one sitting on the back even turned around to make a face at her.

Anger surged like a tide. Without any conscious thought, Soyo’s wide eyes seemed to ignite.

A transparent field expanded rapidly. It looked gentle, with a faint fluorescent glow at the edges. Before the motorcycle could escape the intersection, the field overtook them, enveloping the two thugs.

The motorcycle instantly lost its balance, and they crashed to the ground, the bike pinning them down.

They tried to scramble up but couldn't move at all. Some invisible, immense force was pressing down on their bodies. They could only clutch the asphalt with spasming hands, watching in terror as the motorcycle beside them began to crack piece by piece.

Amidst the cracking sounds, the fuel tank exploded, but the gasoline didn't spray out; it stuck to the ground, unable to even spread.

The thugs howled for mercy. The terrifying gravity was almost crushing their bones. Soyo watched with her own eyes as one guy’s leg began to ooze blood, while the other could only lie in a posture resembling an embrace of the earth, his face pressed flat against the pavement.

Soyo was terrified by this bizarre scene herself. After a moment of hesitation, she rushed over, grabbed her bass case, and fled the scene without looking back.

Since that day, Soyo had discovered her superpower.

She could release it whenever she wanted. This ability was similar to controlling gravity; she could, by mere gaze, exert immense weight on a glass, making it appear as if it had shattered for no reason.

Whenever this happened, a golden tide would light up in the depths of her eyes. The greater the gravity she exerted, the brighter the gold in her pupils became.

She was thrilled by her little secret. When no one was home, she often used various small objects to experiment. After all, who could refuse the idea of having a superpower? Just like the magical girls in stories, perhaps the power she had suddenly gained existed for a girl’s happiness.

If Sakiko came today and refused to tell everyone what had happened to her during this time, Soyo would smile and say, "It's okay, let me see you out."

And when she walked Sakiko out, Soyo would lure her to a secluded corner, pin her feet so she couldn't move, and keep her there until she was willing to honestly speak about her problems.

No matter what Sakiko said, Soyo would appeal to her emotions and reason, asking, "Isn't it fun for us all to be in the band together? You said you wanted to perform again, didn't you?" She would use those beautiful memories to win Sakiko’s heart back bit by bit.

Although such means were a bit extreme and might even expose her little secret to her friends, as long as she could get Sakiko back and keep CryChic going, then everything would be worth it.

After all, for her, Soyo Nagasaki, this band was like a home. Having already experienced the pain of her parents' divorce once, she didn't want to experience the pain of loss again.

Perhaps this power was sent by an angel who knew the wishes of her heart, secretly placing it by her bedside in the dead of night?