Accumulating Starlight, with You Once More — A3! Another Spring
When I came to, I was standing at an unfamiliar train station. An impossibly vivid stream of memories flooded my mind. Brilliant stages. The smiles of my friends. And the cruel vision of a future where the person most precious to me loses his life to illness.
This is the world just before the theater troupe MANKAI Company takes its very first step. Knowing what the future holds, I made a single, desperate resolution above all else: This time, I absolutely won't lose him.
My name is Sakuya Saku
Accumulating Starlight, with You Once More — A3! Another Spring - A Stage of Ridicule — Shattered Resolve
Iron door.
Cold.
Sakuya pressed his back against it. Killed his breath.
Warehouse Theater KAGARI.
The port district. Sunken in night's darkness.
Smell of tide. Smell of rusted iron.
No one around.
(He's in there…)
Sakuya looked up at the building.
Converted warehouse.
High ceiling. Black-stained walls.
"Weltbühne" — white letters alone floated above the iron door.
Voices leaked from underground.
Arata's voice.
Low. Carrying.
And — Itaru's voice.
Hoarse. Pained.
Sakuya crept along the wall. Down the stairs to the basement.
One step.
Another.
Voices grew closer.
Rehearsal room door.
Slightly ajar.
Sakuya peered in.
On stage.
Bare concrete.
Lighting: three naked bulbs. Nothing more.
Dim.
Itaru stood there.
White shirt.
Soaked with sweat. Clinging to his skin.
Pale face.
Lips dry. Scabbed over.
Knees trembling.
And — Arata.
Black turtleneck.
Black hair to his shoulders.
Slicked back.
A few strands falling across his face.
Black eyes. Unreadable. Bottomless.
"Again."
Arata's voice.
Cold.
Itaru drew breath.
Shoulders rising and falling.
"…I am…"
Voice shaking.
"Wrong."
Arata snapped his fingers.
Snap.
"Your acting has no soul. Because you lack the resolve to break. From the top. Again."
Itaru said nothing.
Just tried to start the line again.
Sweat seeped into the old burn scar on his left arm.
Sakuya bit his lip.
— Stop.
— Please. Stop.
Arata stepped closer to Itaru.
On the stage.
Their shadows overlapped.
"Itaru Chigasaki. What do you want on stage?"
"…I…"
"Don't lie. I know. You — want to break yourself. Don't you."
Itaru's face went rigid.
"You want to know your limits. How far you can go. Where you'll shatter. You want to show the audience that. Am I wrong."
Arata's lips twisted.
"You're punishing yourself. Because there's something you couldn't protect."
Itaru's hands began to tremble.
"Ad-lib. Your next line — your little brother. The one you couldn't protect. He died because of you, didn't he. Use that emotion."
Blood drained from Itaru's face.
Body locked rigid.
Eyes wide open.
— Little brother.
Sakuya's breath caught.
He didn't know.
Not even in the future memories.
Itaru's past wound.
Arata was using it. Like a stage prop.
"…Please. Stop."
Itaru forced the words out.
"Why. That's your truth, isn't it."
"That's…"
"Still not enough. More. Shine until you die. Itaru Chigasaki. The sound of you breaking — that is my stage."
That moment.
Itaru's knees buckled.
Hands hit the stage floor.
Shoulders trembling. Fine, rapid tremors.
Sakuya couldn't take it anymore.
He shoved the door open.
BANG!!
"Stop it!!"
The rehearsal room air froze solid.
Weltbühne's members all turned at once.
Five. Six of them.
Every eye on Sakuya.
Mockery.
Contempt.
"Who's this brat" — those eyes.
Arata turned. Slowly.
Black eyes fixed on Sakuya.
"…Who are you."
Sakuya rushed to the stage.
"Itaru-san! Let's stop this! This isn't acting! It's torture to break you!"
Itaru stayed on the floor. Hands planted. Unmoving.
Face wouldn't lift.
Sakuya grabbed Itaru's arm.
Cold.
Ice-cold.
"Let's go home! To the theater! To MANKAI Company!"
"Don't come."
Hoarse voice.
Sakuya's hand stopped.
"…I told you. Don't come."
Itaru raised his face. Slowly.
Those eyes.
Hollow. Unfocused.
Not seeing Sakuya.
Staring somewhere far away.
"Itaru-san…!"
Arata laughed.
A thin smile.
"I see. You're that high schooler. Sakuya Sakuma-kun."
Arata's fingers tapped a rhythm.
"What are you to Itaru?"
Sakuya glared at Arata.
"I'm—"
"Just a brat who gets in the way."
Arata's voice rang through the rehearsal room.
The members laughed.
Snickering.
"Don't you dare defile my stage."
"You're the one defiling it! Tearing open someone's emotional wounds — and you call that acting?! That's just violence!"
"Violence? Fine. The stage is violence. The audience unconsciously craves the moment an actor breaks. I simply provide it."
Arata stepped closer to Sakuya.
Height difference.
Looking down on him.
"You don't understand, do you. Can't act. No talent at all. Just a child."
Sakuya clenched his fists.
"Even without talent! I still can't abandon Itaru-san!"
"Why."
"Because I — I decided I would save him!!"
Arata's eyes narrowed. Just slightly.
"Save him? Don't make me laugh. What can you do."
Arata turned.
Glanced at his members.
Two staff moved behind Sakuya.
"Let go…!"
Arms seized.
Twisted up.
Pain.
Bones creaking.
"Itaru-san!! Please! Look at me!!"
Itaru — didn't move.
On the stage. Head still bowed.
"I don't!! I don't want you to die!! In the future you—"
"Shut up."
Itaru lifted his face.
Hollow eyes looked at Sakuya.
"…This has nothing to do with you."
Those words —.
Pierced straight through Sakuya's chest.
Dragged.
Arms still held. Out of the rehearsal room.
"Itaru-san…!!"
Shouting.
Struggling.
But no match.
The staff were strong. Sakuya's body was light.
Up the stairs.
Iron door.
Opened.
Outside —.
Rain.
Pouring. Torrential.
Thud.
Thrown to the ground.
Knees and palms scraped raw.
Blood seeping.
"Open up!! Itaru-san is—!!"
Pounding the iron door.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Knuckles aching.
Blood welling.
Still pounding.
"Itaru-san…!!"
Voice going hoarse.
The door wouldn't open.
Cold iron.
Rain.
Sakuya dropped to his knees on the spot.
Rain soaked his hair.
Droplets down his face. Mingling with tears.
"…I…"
Trembling voice.
"I couldn't change anything…"
That moment.
Flashback.
Vision burst white.
Hospital room.
White walls.
White bed.
Itaru lying there.
Wasted thin.
Dark circles deep under his eyes.
Lips pale. Blue-tinged.
But — smiling.
A gentle smile.
"Sakuya-kun. Thank you."
— No.
— You died.
— I couldn't do anything.
— I swore I'd save you this time —.
"U… aah…"
Tears wouldn't stop.
The smiling face in the flashback.
And the hollow face he'd just seen.
Overlapping.
Same eyes.
Resigned. Accepting death — those eyes.
"AAAAAAHHH!!"
Sakuya screamed.
With all his voice.
Drowned by the rain.
Reaching no one.
He punched the ground.
THUD!!
Hand hurting.
Blood flowing.
Still punching.
THUD!!
"Damn it… damn it!!"
Hand into his pocket.
A candy drop.
Strawberry flavor.
Clenched tight.
— Itaru gave it to him. In the future.
— Said, "It'll be okay."
— Those words saved him. So many times.
— But.
— I.
"It's not okay… It was never okay…"
Tears and rain mixing together.
Limbs trembling.
Can't even stand.
Alone.
In front of the warehouse theater.
Cast aside.
Consciousness fading. Sinking into darkness.
The last thing he thought —.
— I'm sorry.
— Itaru-san.
— I really couldn't do anything after all.
Only the rain kept falling. Cold. Endless.
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