A necklace? she thought. What necklace?
The question came before she had time to prepare.
"Are you wearing it?" he asked, without pressure—almost curious.
Tsukiho lowered her gaze for a moment.
Did Sora give her a necklace? she thought. Mizuho should've told me.
She didn't hesitate. The answer came easily.
"I put it away," she said softly. "I wanted to treasure it."
He smiled.
Sora decided to take the next step. This time, he wanted to be the one leading the date.
"Shall we keep walking?" he asked, breaking the silence before it turned awkward.
Luna looked up and smiled faintly.
"Yes. I'd like that."
Her voice sounded lower than usual, as if every word passed through her mind before leaving her lips.
They left the restaurant, and the afternoon air wrapped around them immediately.
The shopping mall was more crowded now.
People walked back and forth, laughter echoed around them. Sora walked beside her, adjusting his pace without realizing it.
She's different, he thought again. But not… in a bad way.
Luna observed everything in quiet detail—the colors, the people, the reflections in the glass.
So this is what the world looks like from here, she thought.
She wasn't seeing it through a screen. Time didn't speed up just because someone demanded it.
"There's an arcade nearby," Sora said after a while. "Would you like to go?"
She looked at him, surprised.
"An arcade?"
"Yeah. It's… fun. I thought you might like it, based on what you said earlier," he added, as if that were a warning.
Tsukiho hesitated for barely a second.
Is that what Mizuho said? she wondered.
The thought surfaced clearly, inevitably.
Can I do this…? Of course I can. It can't be that hard.
"Alright," she replied. "Let's go."
The moment they entered, the change was immediate.
Flashing lights. Electronic music spilling out of every machine.
Luna felt her legs tremble slightly.
This is too much.
Sora noticed.
"If you want, we can—"
"No, it's fine," she interrupted gently. "I'm okay. I like these kinds of games."
She didn't sound completely convinced, but she didn't want to run away either.
They moved between the machines until Sora stopped in front of an air hockey table.
"Want to play?" he asked.
Tsukiho blinked.
"Here?"
"Yeah."
He looked at her with a small, almost shy smile.
"It's simple."
She let out a brief laugh.
He's clumsy, she thought. But he's not pretending to be anything else.
She agreed.
The first point went to Sora.
Then another.
Luna moved well—she knew how to play—but the pace weighed on her. Every movement demanded more than she was used to giving.
I'm not that resilient.
Sora noticed when she rested one hand on the table between rounds.
"Do you want to stop?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"No. Just… give me a second."
She took a deep breath.
Then they kept playing for a couple of hours.
Sora won.
Then he won again.
When the twelfth match ended, Luna leaned forward, resting her hands on her knees.
"I lost," she said, without drama.
"You didn't do bad," he replied.
She looked up.
"That's a lie."
He smiled without saying anything.
They walked a bit more until Sora stopped in front of a double dance machine.
He observed it silently.
Maybe she'll like this, he thought.
But that wasn't the problem.
"Do you want…?" Sora began.
Luna trembled slightly before nodding. She knew how to dance, and she practiced the choreographies Mizuho created all the time—but she usually got tired very quickly.
"Yes…"
She stepped onto the platform carefully.
She adjusted her dress automatically, the way she had seen her sister do hundreds of times.
"Are you sure?" he insisted.
Luna nodded.
"I want to try."
The music started.
At first, everything was fine.
Her feet followed the arrows precisely. No stiffness. No major mistakes. But the tempo increased—and with it, the strain.
Just a bit more.
She missed one step.
Then another.
Sora watched from the neighboring platform, holding himself back without realizing it.
It's not like the concerts.
When the song ended, the result was clear.
Sora won.
Tsukiho stepped down slowly. She brought a hand to her chest, breathing deeply.
"I'm sorry," she said, before he could speak.
"Why?"
"I thought I could keep up with you."
Sora shook his head.
"You don't have to."
She looked up, confused.
"You're not lesser because you get tired," he continued. "Actually… I like you more this way."
Tsukiho blinked.
"More like what?"
"You're fun. You even smiled when you missed that double step."
The word fell casually.
But it mattered.
Fun.
Tsukiho lowered her gaze, feeling something loosen in her chest.
"They always tell me I'm too strict," she confessed softly. "They say I should relax more."
"I don't agree."
Sora fell silent, looking at her intently.
"I thought this date would end up boring you. I thought you'd be like a vending machine—smiling and performing. But you're… complex. Almost like you have two hearts beating at different rhythms."
Luna trembled at his words.
She didn't know if it was from the exhaustion—or from what he said.
"No one has ever said something like that to me," she whispered, forgetting Luna's high tone for a moment. "Sometimes… it's exhausting to always shine. But I feel like, if I stop shining, people will stop looking."
"I wouldn't stop looking," Sora replied with a sincere smile. "I prefer the light of the real moon. It's not as strong as the sun, but it lets you see the stars."
But he didn't stop there.
"You know, I always thought the lyrics of your first song, Glass Voice, were too sad for the idol I always see in your streams. At minute 2:15, your voice shifts to a sharper tone. It sounds like… like you're screaming for help behind a wall."
When Sora said that, Luna froze.
That minute… that part had been recorded alone one night while she cried under the pressure of debuting. No one—not even Mizuho, not even her aunt Sayoko—had noticed. She had written that song thinking about how alone she felt after losing her parents.
The impact was so strong that tears formed in Luna's eyes.
It was as if Sora wasn't looking at Luna—but listening to Tsukiho. To the real her.
Tsukiho felt the air get trapped in her chest.
Why…?
She couldn't understand how someone could go that far just by listening to a song. Or how he had noticed something she herself had tried to bury—even from herself. That song, that exact minute, had always been a mistake no one mentioned.
A crack no one saw.
Or so she thought.
He heard it, Luna thought.
Not as a fan—but as someone who truly listened.
Tsukiho lowered her head immediately, pressing her lips together, trying to regain control.
Don't cry.
Not here.
Not in front of him.
But the trembling was already there.
Sora noticed immediately.
"Ah—" He took a step forward, visibly nervous. "I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean to say something weird. If I made you uncomfortable, really—"
He stopped when he saw her shaking her head.
"No," Luna said softly, her voice breaking. "It's not that, I just…"
It was hard to look up. When she did, her eyes were wet—but there was no shame in them. Only an emotion that had waited far too long to be acknowledged.
"It's just that…" She swallowed. "No one has ever talked about that song like that."
Sora frowned slightly.
"Really?"
She nodded slowly.
"They always say it's pretty. That it's melancholic. That it fits the beginning of any rising star." Her fingers clenched the fabric of her dress. "But no one ever thought about… why I wrote it."
Not even Mizuho, she thought.
That hurt more than she expected.
Sora stayed silent.
Not because he didn't know what to say—but because he understood that any rushed words might break something fragile.
Tsukiho took a deep breath.
"Thank you," she finally said. "For listening to me without knowing me."
He blinked.
"I…" He scratched the back of his neck. "I just said what I felt. I didn't think—"
"It's okay," she interrupted gently.
Sora tensed slightly, as if he feared he had crossed an invisible line.
"I'm sorry," he added quickly. "I didn't mean to make you cry."
Tsukiho let out a small, trembling laugh.
"You're… a sweet boy."
The words came out on their own.
And the moment she said them, she realized they were true.
She wasn't impulsive like Mizuho.
She didn't dazzle easily the way her sister did.
Her presence didn't take up space without asking permission.
And yet—
Sora seemed to see her.
For years, Tsukiho had lived comparing herself. Mizuho was always praised for her talent, her smile, for being the best version of Luna.
Tsukiho, on the other hand, was the other one—the correct version who held everything together from behind, the one who wrote every song away from the stage.
I always thought that made me inferior.
But now, someone had put the exact words to it—and hadn't run away.
He listened to me. He understood me. He didn't ask me to shine.
He just wanted me to be my most authentic self.
Her chest ached in a strange, warm way.
I think…
She didn't finish the thought. Sora was looking at her with concern, as if he still feared he had done something wrong. Luna smiled softly, discreetly wiping away a tear before it could fall.
"Thank you," she repeated. "Really."
He finally released the breath he seemed to have been holding.
"So… are you okay?"
"Yes," she replied. "I am now."
Tsukiho looked around, then back at Sora.
"Can we go outside?" she asked. "I think I need some air."
"Of course," he replied immediately.
When they finally stepped away from the dance machine, the noise of the arcade washed over them again. The lights kept flashing on the screen, and a large stream of tickets poured out of the dispenser.
Sora took a second to react. He moved toward the machine almost by reflex and gathered the tickets before they hit the floor. Luna helped too, absentmindedly, as if she hadn't fully registered how many there were.
"That's a lot," she murmured, holding a few between her fingers.
"Looks like it," Sora replied with a small smile. "I didn't know these games gave out so many tickets."
They stood there for a moment, unsure what to do with them.
"Want to see what prizes they have?" he asked at last.
Luna hesitated only a moment before nodding.
"But you beat me," she added. "The tickets are yours."
Sora shook his head almost immediately.
"It was both of our effort."
She looked at him, surprised, then smiled softly.
They walked together to the prize wall. The place was filled with large plushies, flashy figures, toys all competing for attention. Sora observed carefully, evaluating options without saying a word.
One plush caught his eye. It wasn't huge, but it stood out. He thought it might be a good choice.
Then he noticed Luna had stopped a bit farther back.
She wasn't looking at the plushies, but at a quieter corner where several small keychains hung. Among them, two identical gray kittens that matched perfectly.
Sora followed her gaze.
Ah.
Without saying anything, he exchanged the tickets.
When he came back, he held the two keychains in his hand.
"Here," he said, offering them.
Luna blinked.
"Both of them?"
"Yeah," he replied. "I saw how you were looking at them."
Luna took them, and for a moment she looked genuinely happy. Then she shook her head and carefully handed one back.
"Then you have to keep one," she said. "Otherwise, I won't accept it."
Sora took it without arguing.
"Alright."
Luna held hers between her fingers, studying it closely, as if she had just made an important decision.
A small smile formed on her face.
"I like it," she said. "Thank you."
Sora looked at her for a second before replying, as if he had just realized something.
"You're welcome," he said with a smile. "I had a lot of fun on our date."
The words lingered between them for a moment longer.
A date.
Luna looked down at the keychain again.
I had fun too, she thought.
She really had enjoyed it. She hadn't had to act. She hadn't had to smile out of obligation. She hadn't had to be Luna the whole time.
She had been… herself.
And that was what she valued most.
The noise of the arcade slowly returned, as if the world was reclaiming its place. The lights kept flashing, indifferent to what had just happened.
Luna took a deep breath, carefully put the keychain away, and looked up.
"Shall we go?" Sora asked. "It's really loud in here."
She nodded.
They walked toward the exit at an unhurried pace, weaving past people, machines, and sounds that now felt less intense. When they crossed the door, the night sky wrapped around them immediately—cooler, quieter.
Luna took a few steps, then stopped.
She tightened her fingers around the keychain in her pocket.
"Sora," she said suddenly.
"Yeah?"
"If one day you find out I'm not who you imagine…"
She looked straight at him.
"Would you still play with me?"
He thought for a moment.
"Yes."
He met her gaze.
"I think I'd be more disappointed if I couldn't."
Luna smiled when she heard that.
That was when she saw it.
In the distance, amid the constant movement of cars and lights, her aunt's minivan moved slowly forward—an inevitable reminder. Borrowed time was coming to an end, quietly but firmly.
She clenched her fingers in her pocket around the keychain. She wanted to say more. At least stay a little longer.
But she knew she couldn't.
She turned to Sora one last time.
"I had a lot of fun too," she said softly. "Thank you for giving me the best date."
He nodded, as if he understood more than he let on.
Before saying goodbye, she pulled out a small piece of paper and wrote quickly, almost afraid she might regret it. When Sora wondered what she was doing, she gently took his hand and closed his fingers around the paper.
"This number doesn't exist for the agency," she whispered, in Tsukiho's real voice as she said goodbye. "It's a secret."
When Sora took the paper, his fingers brushed against hers, and his heart started racing.
Sora opened his mouth to say something.
"Luna…"
But she was already walking away.
Sora stood there, the paper clenched in his hand and the keychain hanging from his pocket, watching as the minivan disappeared into traffic.
He didn't know exactly when everything had ended up this way.
Or how the date had turned into something more than just a prize.
He had Luna's number.
That was all that mattered now.