[ Kanade pov ]

Lately, something about Mafuyu feels even more distant than usual. Her smile is practiced, her words carefully chosen, but there’s a hollowness to it all—as if she’s become a puppet playing a role. I’ve always known Mafuyu carries heavy burdens, but this time, it feels like she’s slipping deeper into something Kanade can’t reach.

She insists everything is fine. She still contributes to Nightcord at 25, with the same dedication, always creating lyrics that pierce like knives. But Kanade could sense it—behind her composed facade is someone trapped, someone who’s given up hope of escaping. It's as though she's bound by invisible strings, dancing to a tune she doesn’t even believe in anymore.

The others—Ena and Mizuki—notice too. They tried to talk to her, reach out in their own ways, but Mafuyu deflects. Kanade realized that the version of her they see is a carefully constructed persona, a mask shaped by what others expect of her. And she’s so used to wearing it, she no longer knows who she is underneath.

As her friend… no, as someone who understands what it means to be lost, Kanade wants to save her. But how do you save someone who doesn’t believe they can be saved?

Kanade began working on a new song. It’s not just for Mafuyu—it’s for all of them. A song about breaking free from the roles we’re forced to play. She pour every emotion into it, hoping it will reach her, even if my words fall short.