Against the backdrop of a sky ablaze with the colors of sunset, I stared intently at the screen of my phone.
“Awacchi! Since when did you have such a flair for the dramatic?”
The voice behind me broke through the silence, and when I turned, there stood Hareru-senpai, grinning as if she were in on a private joke.
We were on the rooftop of Live-On’s office. After my conversation with Churiri-sensei, I’d texted Hareru-senpai, asking to meet up here.
“So, what’s this consultation all about?” she asked, a playful lilt in her voice. “With everyone coming to me for advice today, I think I’ll get my confidence back any day now!”
“Tadasu-chan?” I asked knowingly.
“Yeah. Just got done with her,” she said, glancing briefly down before looking back up at me. “But before you start, let me ask you something, Awacchi. You already knew things would turn out this way, didn’t you?”
I hesitated for a moment, but there was no point dodging her. “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk about,” I admitted.
“Thought that might be the case.”
I smiled wryly. Hareru-senpai, sharp as a tack like always. But it was never a bad thing for someone to be quick on the uptake. I needed to talk to her about a lingering unease—not quite anxiety, but still unsettling—that this episode had brought about.
“I’ve been thinking about how this all played out,” I began, my words tentative. “If this had happened to the old me, I would’ve thrown myself right into the middle of things, no questions asked. But this time...I ended up moving in the background, like some kind of shadow broker.”
“Right,” she said, nodding.
“And honestly...yeah, I somehow knew how it would end. I saw it coming. And when it happened, just like I predicted...it scared me. Scared me that I was right.”
“Scared, eh?”
“It feels...weird when everything falls into place, you know? It’s never happened to me. I’m scared of where that might take me, of what I might become. I mean, if I could turn out like you, Hareru-senpai, it wouldn’t be so bad. But what if I’m already at my peak? What if this is it, and I just end up withering away?”
“Aha ha ha ha ha ha!”
The response to my heartfelt admission? A loud and brazen laugh.
“H-Hey! I’m being serious here!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I just— You’ve really forgotten, haven’t you?”
“Forgotten? What?”
“Okay, Awacchi, here’s the deal,” she said, her tone shifting ever so slightly. “You’ve got something in you. Something huge. A drive, an ambition that’s going to take you to far greater heights than I’ve ever reached. So—no need to worry about stuff like that.”
“What... What do I have?”
“Mm... Not gonna tell you, because it’s more interesting that way. But you have my Harerun guarantee. You’re going to be just fine.”
“O...kay...?”
If this were anyone else, I would’ve called them out for not taking me seriously. But because this was Hareru-senpai, the Hareru-senpai, I actually felt reassured.
“This is just what growth feels like, Awacchi. You did good this time. What’s most important when a crisis hits? The people involved. By stepping back and being hands-off, you supported them in ways that helped them grow on their own. If you’d just ordered Churi-sen to stay positive or I’d just forced Prez to stick around, none of this would have worked out as it did, right?”
“I...suppose not,” I muttered, still processing her words.
“And you suppose correct! You did a good job, Awacchi!” she said, her energy and confidence cutting off any chance of further argument. She reached out and gently patted my head.
There were still things she wasn’t telling me, things she’d been deliberately vague about. But I had a feeling that even if I pressed her, she wouldn’t give me any more answers. So I decided to trust her. To trust the confidence she had in me—and with that, I let my lingering unease rest.
“By the way, whatcha watching there?” Hareru asked.
“Gen five’s streaming,” I replied.
“Ooh, guerrilla, huh?”
I shifted my phone so she could see. “They’re talking about Tadasu-chan’s hiatus, explaining things in full to the viewers. A rare peek behind the curtain. Interesting stuff.”
“Aw, that’s sweet!” Hareru crooned.
“Sweet, among other things...”
To better illustrate what I meant, I shut up and lent my ear to what gen five was saying.
“I, Miyauchi, will no longer stand as an anti, but as a distinct member of Live-On, here to share the wonders of imagination with you all! First, about Live-On: This place? It’s Eden.”
“Ah?” came Dagger-chan’s tiny, tentative voice.
“And as for me,” Churiri-sensei added, “know that your sensei has finally come to terms with herself. So, objective ships? Not good enough anymore. From now on, I’m setting my sights on something bigger. I’m going to have SEX with every object in the world!”
“A-Ah?”
I let out the longest sigh. “See what I mean? Tadasu-chan, sure, you can say what she’s doing is the logical next step for her, but Sensei? Why did Live-On’s most unhinged member by a long shot decide she needed to be even more unhinged? Make it make sense, Hareru-senpai!”
“But you were the one who talked to Churi-sen, weren’t you?”
“Okay, but I didn’t know she would end up like this!!! I did not predict this!!! This is not my fault!!!”
At every point in time, within every society, there is a “normal” that is upheld and celebrated. Now you might say that in recent years, we’ve broken away from this rigid normalcy, started celebrating individuality and embracing quirks. But is that truly the case? Or have we simply redefined “normal” to fit a new world?
As new traits become “normal,” old ones have to be cast aside to make room, becoming “abnormal.” Yesterday’s mainstream is today’s pariah, and thus the cycle goes on and on and on.
I often wonder if we, as people, can ever break free from this cycle and find true acceptance. But looking around, seeing how confined and repressed everyone seems, it’s hard to imagine that ever happening.
People and society may fundamentally be at odds with each other. Perhaps that’s just the way it’s meant to be. Because here’s the strange thing: Even if society pushes individuals to suppress parts of themselves to conform, we accept it. We make peace with it, maybe even embrace it, if it means we avoid loneliness and isolation. It’s very human—very strong—to sacrifice parts of ourselves for the chance to belong, to survive together.
Still, that doesn’t make it any less painful. Countless people struggle every day, trying to fit into a mold that feels too small, too restrictive. And that’s why Live-On matters. It’s a place where the crazy, the offbeat, the chaotic come out to play. A place where individuality isn’t just tolerated, but celebrated.