Liar Liar and Skies Infernal

"Skies Infernal."

What does that even mean? Skies... Infernal? Like, the skies of hell? Skies that burn with raging flames? That's stupid. Edgy band names dropped off in, like, the early 2000s. Why would someone choose to produce depressing rock in the era of pop?

I asked myself those questions, my mind stuck in a loop as I glared angrily at the opponent sitting just a few centimeters away from me in the middle of Café Go!Go!

I had always found the name "Café Go!Go!" bizarre, but soon came to realize it had only been named in such a ridiculous way because its owner was obsessed with a band by the same title. Perhaps my curiosity about strange names stemmed deeper than I thought. It seems like I'm always surrounded by stupid names that I don't understand... like "Skies Infernal."

The girl who had come up with such a depressing name was sitting directly beside me, and I wasn't about to let the spotlight get stolen once again. I had already been deemed the least favorite member in my own idol group in the recent popularity poll, and to sit here being forced to watch as Mayonaka Saya was showered with an overwhelming amount of fans begging for autographs... it pissed me off.

Today was the day of my idol group's one year anniversary. Liar Liar, originally known as Terrible Liar, recently hit over three hundred thousand monthly listeners across streaming platforms, almost scarily punctual with our one-year 'Café Meet and Greet.' Sure enough, Café Go!Go! had been a hot spot for musicians passing through Hokkaido to stop by and host events before a show. What pissed me off the most was that my group was actually from Hokkaido, not just passing through. It made no sense that the locals showed more interest in Mayonaka Saya rather than the overwhelming cuteness of Liar Liar sitting just inches away from the punkish girl.

"You sure have a lot of fans, Saya-chan."
My outburst came out sounding much more aggressive than I had intended. I always hated when my true colors slipped through my pure and innocent facade.

Her sweet smile, the tilt of her head, and the way her hair fell slightly over her eyes, I couldn't deny she was definitely adorable.
"I just got lucky. I don't have stage energy like you or the other members of Liar Liar do."
She ended her sentence with a mumble.

"Naturally."
I puffed my chest a bit.
"Being an idol takes lots of stamina and hard work. It's not like we can just strum a few chords and attract thousands."

Saya glanced up from signing yet another vinyl record, her eyes locking onto mine.
"I suppose you're right. I envy that about you, Nene-chan."

Nene-chan?! Why does it piss me off when she uses 'chan' so casually? I was only doing it to fluster her!

I angrily stood up, making an effort to stomp my boots as I made my dramatic departure.

"Nene, where are you going?!"
The lead vocalist of my group, Himeko, shouted from her table, a glint of annoyance in her fiery red eyes.

"Toilet!"
I shouted back in retaliation.
"Don't follow me! It's not like anyone wants my autograph anyway!"

"Stop being a problem child! It's not our fault you look lame on stage! Maybe if you came to practice more than twice a week-"
Himeko bit down on her tongue, trying her best to prevent herself from causing a scene in front of the crowd.

I could feel tears threatening to escape my eyelids, but I bit down on my lip to kill any semblance of anger I had seething within me. I tasted the saltiness of blood spilling into my mouth as I stormed closer to the restroom.

By the time I had sat down, pulling my panties to my ankles, my tears were flowing freely onto the cold porcelain beneath me. Desperately, I tried to suppress my sobs by biting my finger, but the taste of blood mixing with tears caused me to gag slightly.

This wasn't fair. None of this made any sense. Here I was, a co-founder of Liar Liar, being booted to the back row by something as stupid as 'fan preference' based on which girl they thought was the hottest.

That stupid Himeko. Boys only care about your boobs and how husky your voice can get. So what if my chest is flatter? Who cares if my voice is too soft?

I glanced up from relieving myself, suppressing another angry shout when I realized there was no toilet paper on the roll. I could feel my eyes starting to well up with tears again.

"You've got to be joking..."
I mumbled as I looked around the stall for anything I could use. This wasn't an episode of Gintama; it's not like I should be battling for a single square of paper while my comrades were out on the battlefield. I sighed loudly.

"Nene-chan?"
A timid, feminine voice echoed through the bathroom, causing me to jump slightly.

I had no idea someone else had even entered during my moment of weakness.

"W-what?! Who's there?!"
I silently beat myself up for letting my voice come out as a frightened squeak.

"It's me, Mayonaka. I came to tell you that they didn't have any... paper in here."
I could hear her giggling under her breath, but there didn't seem to be any malice in her tone.
"I used the same stall earlier."

I groaned audibly, sitting awkwardly with my knees together.
"Y-yeah... can you help me out?"

I couldn't believe I was asking my enemy to hand me toilet paper. This is beyond embarrassing.

"Of course! I have a roll in my hand right now. Could you... unlock the door?"
Her voice trailed off toward the end of her sentence, revealing a hint of raspiness beneath her soft echo.

"Huh?! N-no! Just toss it over the top!"
I instinctively covered my legs with my shirt; the thought of having her see me, even for a split second, didn't sit well with me.

"I'm sorry, I'm a terrible aim. I don't want to miss!"
Mayonaka Saya's voice seemed almost pouty.

I suppose that makes sense. What if she accidentally tossed it into another stall? I had no idea if we were alone in here.

Reluctantly, I reached my hand toward the handle. I could feel my palms trembling as the soft click of the lock sealed my fate.

"Fine. But if you look, I swear to God!"
I gripped the hem of my shirt tightly, feeling the blush in my cheeks spread to my ears as I stared at the door.

The slow creak of the door sent shivers down my spine, as if it were a soundtrack for my awaiting doom. Mayonaka Saya entered the stall, not holding toilet paper, but a small balisong knife gripped firmly in her right hand.

I hadn't even had time to shriek before her foot stomped down on my panties, trapping my ankles to the floor, and her other foot landing with a thud on the wall behind me. Her smirk grew twisted, those long canine teeth reminiscent of a vampire's. Her leg was completely extended by the side of my head, keeping me in place in case I decided to retaliate.

"I didn't appreciate that little comment about strumming chords earlier. You think this industry is all fun and games?"
Mayonaka Saya caressed the side of my cheek with the dull end of her blade, watching almost lustfully as my lips quivered around a pathetic whimper. Her voice wasn't its usual timid breathiness, but an almost deep, masculine tone.

"I... I... N-no! Y-you..."
What am I doing?! I can't even get the words out!

"Cat got your tongue? That's cute."
She pulled her blade away from my cheek, elegantly flipping it shut with practiced ease. If I hadn't been in such a terrifying position, I might have even thought she looked kind of cool.

"I work hard at what I do, Nene-chan. There's a reason your fans all wanted my autograph today."
She finally removed her foot from the wall, stepping back and releasing the panties around my ankle in the process.
"If you think I'll take any shit from an invisible pop idol then you just earned yourself an enemy. Liar Liar relies on ghostwriters and abusive training to make a quick buck. You're nothing but a puppet; an industry plant for crappy anime theme songs and merch sales, which you seem to suck at both of."

I couldn't hide it any longer. My jaw hung open in fear and complete submission. Everything she said had been true, and there was nothing I could do to prove her wrong. It hurt to admit it, but my pride had completely shattered.

"Here's a tip for you, Kashiwagi Nene. Drop your little cutesy act and find a real job. Music is my territory."
Mayonaka Saya flipped her hair with her hand, dramatically turning her back to me as her boots thudded against the cold tile beneath her.

"Give up music?! That's not an option for me!"
I stood up, quickly fixing my clothes as my curled hands found their way to my chest.
"I'm not doing this for me! You don't understand anything!"
My heart was beating out of my chest, and I could feel my knees trembling as I stared my enemy in the face, unable to look away even after being threatened at knife point.

"Then do enlighten me, Kashiwagi Nene. What's your endgame?"
Mayonaka Saya stopped just shy of the doorframe, looking back over her shoulder with those piercing green eyes.

"I shouldn't have to tell you! I want to be an idol!"
I knew I sounded childish. Only I could truly understand what my own heart desired, and right now it was to tell Mayonaka Saya to her face that I'm not afraid of the industry.

"An idol? You already are an idol. What kind of idol do you strive to be?"
Saya turned her entire body to face me. It seemed my words meant something to her behind that ruthless stare.

"I want to be a cute idol! Someone who you wake up and see on social media... someone who you would pay thousands upon thousands of yen to see perform. Most of all, I want to be living proof that anybody can do what I do."
I took a very certain step toward her, my eyes unblinking as I looked up at her.
"I want to be the kind of sister my brother wants to see. A sister who shines upon her stage like stars in the night sky."

I watched as Saya's eyes widened. She met my gaze with unwavering respect, though I couldn't tell if it was platonic or something deeper. Whatever it was, my words struck a chord with her, and I had accidentally formed a rivalry with a very important girl.

"Kashiwagi Nene."
Saya opened the bathroom door, giving me one final wave before disappearing out of sight.
"It seems like I misjudged something great about you. You're still a brat, though."

I stood there, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding. As I gazed at my own reflection in the mirror, I noticed my makeup had been running down my cheeks. Something about this image of me felt refreshing. I was never one to cry easily, and to have it so visible on my face during a moment of vulnerability, it made me happy.

Shortly after my departure from the bathroom, I texted my manager two quick sentences that I had been planning to send him for months.
'I'm quitting Liar Liar. Thank you, for everything.'

* * *
[To Be Continued]