Missing: My Memories, Plus One Bandmate

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The Sapporo Factory mall was crowded today.

They were hosting a culture matsuri with manga booths, anime pop-up shops, and even a few surprise band performances. Excited fans aggressively pushed and shoved each other like animals to find new volume releases of their favorite series. It was hard to believe that the flailing Japanese economy lay in the hands of a few unemployed man-children with too much money to spend. 

Haruki half expected to spot Kenji somewhere in the sea of sweaty otakus.

Sakura had practically dragged the entire band along, and even though Haruki wasn’t feeling like herself today, she agreed to come. Hoping it would clear her head.

It hadn’t.

She had spent the walk downtown trying to convince her friends of a memory that they insisted never happened.

She swore up and down that the band had gone out to an izakaya together one night after practice. She could remember every last detail down to the very brand of soy sauce on the counter.

“I’m telling you,” Haruki said, weaving around a group of event goers in matching moe character shirts, “we’ve been to that izakaya before. Don’t you remember? The one with the goldfish lanterns?”

Aika trailed behind her, half-texting, half-walking. “That place doesn’t exist, Haruki.”

“But it does!” Haruki insisted.

“It had those little bamboo menus you had to unfold. Mayumi accidentally dropped her taiyaki into the aquarium, Sakura got mad because they charged for water, and you tried to argue with the manager over which part of the chicken belonged on a skewer.”

“…I did?”

“Yes! You did, and outside there were those stray cats that lived in crates, and the teenagers who were banging on the vending machines?”

“Oh please,” Sakura cut in, “I would never go to an izakaya that charges for water. That’s a human rights violation… and besides, we’re not even old enough to go to one.”

Mayumi, who had been engrossed by a manga in her hands, raised her head. “What’s an izakaya?”

“You were there, Mayumi! You kept trying to get the waitress to sing karaoke with us and then got scared when she actually—”

“Wait… You mean the place with the super yummy grilled squid?” 

“So you remember it??”

There was a pause as Mayumi concentrated hard with a finger tapping her chin. 

Then she cheerfully responded: “…Nope!”

Haruki’s head slumped.

“Haruki, are you sure this wasn’t one of your strange dreams again?” Sakura asked.

“Like remember the one where Aika turned into a three-headed yōkai and the three of us had to lure her out of the drama clubroom with fried tofu and then the psychology teacher showed up in samurai sword and armor and defeated her?”

Aika blinked. “I what now??”

The whole group burst out laughing… except for Haruki who buried her face in her hands.

“I told you not to share that one!”

Sakura nodded mock-seriously, still wiping away a tear. “Oh, right. Sorry…”

The group’s conversation swerved from one topic to another.

Haruki would mention something, then her friends would swear they couldn’t remember it. As if the past itself had slipped from their minds, leaving no trace but Haruki’s own stubborn recollections. Or perhaps, it was the other way around?

She just hoped they wouldn't forget that she existed again. 

⊹ ▬ ▬ ⊹ ⊹ ▬ ▬ ▬ ⊹

The four squeezed into a bookstore that was hosting the new manga exhibition.

Instantly, a wave of excitement seemed to possess Sakura as she spotted something somewhere.

“Oh my GOSH! It’s the new volume of Sparkle Melody: Magical Band Girls!” she squealed, pointing to a promotional banner near the back.

“Quick, we need to get there before they sell out!”

Sakura grabbed Aika by the wrist and began dragging her through the hordes of people toward the shelf.

“W—wait for me!” Mayumi called, hurrying after them with careful tiptoes.

Haruki, however, decided that it wasn’t worth it. She wandered off to a quieter section of the store to wait for them.

She found herself between two shelves labeled: ‘SHOUNEN FAVORITES,’ took a random volume from the shelf, and flipped through.

The cover featured a boy with a frying pan and what looked suspiciously like a wormhole opening behind him. Something about meals that changed depending on when you cooked them, and ingredients had memories or something. The art was expressive in a dated, early-2000s kind of way, with lots of thick lines and big, expressive eyes.

Kenji would love this, Haruki thought. 

She placed the volume back into its slot on the shelf and took out another.

“Ooo, that one’s interesting,” said a voice next to her.

Haruki was startled by the sudden comment. She hadn’t even heard anyone walk up.

A girl stood just to her left, holding a book in her hands. Slim. Long, blue-ish hair that reached down to her tailbone. Neat uniform, though one Haruki didn’t recognize. Perhaps a high schooler from a different school zone. She had a friendly, open expression on her face.

Haruki lowered her head back down to her book. “Is it?”

The girl didn’t look away from her book. “Mm. It’s about a young aspiring chef who keeps trying to recreate the same perfect moment. But every time he’s close, something’s different. A detail, a mistake, a person. It’s like he’s trying to fix what can’t be fixed.”

Haruki gave a polite laugh. “Sounds like he needs a better recipe.”

The girl smiled. “…Or maybe he needs to accept that things change. Maybe it’s about learning to live with the changes.”

There was something familiar about her, but Haruki couldn’t quite place from where.

“That’s an interesting way to put it…” She replied. 

The girl didn’t respond. 

Haruki looked up again, ready to ask if they’d met before. “Have we—”

But she wasn’t there anymore.

Haruki glanced around trying to find her, but the girl had disappeared into the crowd.

“Haruki!”

Haruki jumped, the manga falling out of her hands onto the linoleum floor. Sakura was jogging towards her like a maniac.

She was now wearing two mismatched shoes, which Haruki was pretty sure she hadn’t before.

“Sakura, do you have to jump-scare people all the time?!… also what happened to your shoe?!”

“I lost it in the crowd… so I borrowed someone else’s.”

“What?!”

“Whatever. Come on, we’re headed to see Electric Pulse perform, they’re doing a gig at the other side of the mall. Let’s go!”

Before Haruki could protest, she grabbed her hand and pulled her away. The forgotten manga still lying face-down on the floor.

⊹ ▬ ▬ ⊹ ⊹ ▬ ▬ ▬ ⊹

Haruki felt like she was having a seizure.

The performance was a magnificent mess of colors. Flashing pink and purple lights, glittery stage effects, and synchronized heart-shaped hand signs. All of which seemed like an attempt to put the audience into a trance. Haruki strongly felt that they needed to add some kind of epilepsy warning.

To top it all off, the band suddenly began shooting confetti out of the stage cannons.

“EEEEEEE!!”

Haruki watched as her drummer friend squealed and enthusiastically waved a glowstick as if it were a sacred relic blessed to her by her sparkly idol goddesses.

Mayumi was standing beside Haruki with a glowstick in either hand. She seemed to be confused but still enjoying the spectacle nonetheless. Haruki turned to her.

“This is not the Sakura I know,” she said, her voice nearly swallowed by the noise of the crowd. “This is a fangirl demon wearing her skin.”

“But isn’t she cute when she’s happy?”

“It’s certainly… interesting.”

Mayumi giggled, glancing over at Sakura. “I think she’s transcending!”

“…Into what?” Haruki asked.

But before Haruki could get an answer, another explosion of glittery fog shot out of the cannons.

“EEEEEEEEEEEE!!”

Haruki flinched at the sound, instinctively jamming her hands into her jacket pockets.

But her fingers brushed against something that hadn’t been there before.

A paper?

Confused, Haruki pulled out a small, folded piece of paper. She hadn’t put anything in there, had she? She didn’t remember grabbing any flyers.

She unfolded it, flipped the paper around to the correct side, and read:

The memories aren’t yours.

For a moment, the cacophony of flashing lights and frantic screams faded from Haruki’s ears.

Huh?

Her eyes darted across the crowd, looking for… what? The girl from earlier? Haruki looked like a conspiracy theorist in the making. Just what she needed right now. A note that could possibly make her lose whatever shreds of sanity she had left.

Haruki looked over her shoulder, then back at the note. She pressed her thumb against the paper, just to make sure it was real.

And then Sakura screamed again. This time louder, if that was even physically possible.

“Encore!” she shouted like a rabid fangirl. Her eyes were sparkling.

“Encore encore encore!!”

Haruki quickly folded the note and slipped it back into her pocket.

The music surged. Confetti exploded again.

She tried to brush it off for now and enjoy the rest of the event.

But no matter how much she tried to ignore it, her mind kept returning to that note.

...What did it mean?

Was it possible that whoever wrote it knew? Knew about the memories that her own friends insisted weren’t real?

Haruki’s heart began to race. Her hands felt clammy.

Mayumi sensed it. She moved closer to Haruki. “Haruki, are you okay? What’s wrong? Is it too loud?”

She decided not to mention it. She shook her head. “Nothing, I think the glitter might be starting to mess with my brain.”

“Oh no! Should I shield you with my glowsticks, Haru-chan?!”

Haruki gave a weak laugh. “I’m not sure even magic glowsticks can save me at this point.”

After a few more confetti cannon explosions and fainting fans, the performance began to wrap up.

“…And that was Electric Pulse! Give it up for our amazing girls!”  
「…そして、これがエレクトリック・パルスでした！素晴らしい女の子たちに拍手を！」

A loudspeaker blasted. 

“That concludes our annual Sapporo Culture Spark! Thank you for coming!”
「これで毎年恒例の札幌カルチャースパークは終了です！ご来場ありがとうございました！」

Event-goers with arms loaded with bags slowly clambered their way out of the mall.

Sakura jabbed her glowstick directly into Haruki’s face.

“EEEE!! That was SO amazing! I can’t believe they threw confetti! Did you see? Did you see it?! I was right there with them! I even caught one of the t-shirts! EEEEEE!!”

She turned to proudly show off.

Haruki stared at the glittery and far-too-big t-shirt she had acquired. “…Congratulations on your new parachute.”

Mayumi twirled her glowstick with a dreamy sigh. “I didn’t even know idol music could reach that kind of spiritual plane… Do you think they train for that?”

Haruki crossed her arms.

“I don’t know. Half of it sounds like they just slammed their heads into a keyboard and called it a day.”

Mayumi blinked, tilting her head. “…But I thought you liked idol music, Haru-chan?”

Haruki opened her mouth to respond—and stopped.

She had liked idol music. 
She still did. 
Right?

The note. She could still feel it in her pocket. It had to be some kind of clue.

Or maybe she was just overthinking again. Maybe it was some kind of marketing stunt or scavenger hunt, like those “real-life escape games” Aika once talked about. Maybe—

Wait. 
Aika.

Haruki stopped walking. The others kept going a few steps before noticing.

“What is it?”

“…Where’s Aika?”

“I thought she was with you?”

“No, she went to use the bathroom, remember?”

“Mayumi, that was like half an hour ago…”

There was a moment of confusion between the three.

“Alright, I’ll call her.”

Haruki pulled out her phone and—

“I’M LOCKED IN THE BATHROOM. HELP.”

“Sent: 28 minutes ago”

Haruki felt her stomach drop as if the glitter cannons had just gone off in her soul.

“Oh sh—”

The three hurried back into the mall to save their guitarist from a tragic bathroom exile. 

Haruki quietly slipped her hands into her pockets. 
The note rustled against her fingers.

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