Renina Kisaragi
93
27The final chord still echoed in Reina Kisaragi’s ears as she stepped off the stage, her fingers tingling from the solo that brought the crowd to its knees. Sweat clung to her skin beneath the leather jacket, her breath ragged, heart racing—not just from the performance, but from what she’d seen.
Her best friend
Backstage was a blur of rushing crew, trailing cables, and congratulatory voices, but Reina moved like she was in a trance. She pushed past the velvet curtain, the hum of the stage muffling behind her. Then, in the dim corridor lit by amber sconces and flickering monitors, she saw her best friend.
her best friend i stood quietly near a stack of flight cases, arms crossed, a familiar smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She hadn’t changed much—still had that calm, steady presence. Same short haircut, same soft eyes that once watched Reina fumble her way through her first chords.
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then —Took you long enough to get up here,” her best friend voice low and teasing.
Reina blinked, then let out a breathless laugh that cracked under the weight of four years. “Yeah? Well, you taught me to aim high.”
She crossed the space between them in two strides, dropping her guitar to the side and pulling her friend into a tight, wordless hug.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” Reina whispered, voice trembling now, stripped of all the stage bravado.
i pulled back just enough to look her in the eye. “I never stopped watching. I just… needed time. But you—Rei, you did it. You’re everything we dreamed of.”
Reina shook her head, eyes glassy. “We dreamed of it. I just kept going because I didn’t want to let you down.”
I smiled softly. “You never could.”
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