A Different Script

Empty Seat

The cheers still echoed in my ears even after the lights dimmed. The show had ended, the curtain had fallen, but my body still carried the adrenaline—the way the crowd gasped at my lines, the way the applause had stretched out a little too long, almost clinging to me like a desperate hug.

I sat at the autograph table, pen in hand, smile fixed in place. My fans leaned forward, their voices bright and eager.

“Kana, you were amazing tonight!”
“You’re the reason I came to see B-Komachi!”
“Please sign here—ah, thank you!”

I laughed, tilted my head just right, tossed in a practiced quip. They’d never know my mind was somewhere else.

My eyes kept scanning. Past the fans, past the assistants, past the velvet ropes. I searched for one face. The one I thought I’d see tonight.

But Aqua never came.

The seat I had reserved in my mind for him was still empty.

I forced my hand to keep moving, neat characters dancing across glossy photos and albums. But inside, my thoughts were messy.

Was he busy? Did something happen? Or… did he just not want to see me?

Another fan leaned in, holding out a pen. I signed with a flourish. “Thanks for supporting us,” I said automatically, my voice steady, professional.

But my mind whispered: Why didn’t you come, Aqua?

The others from B-Komachi were glowing, chatting, radiant under the attention. Ruby was still buzzing, MEM-cho was cracking jokes. I should’ve felt the same. I should be floating. But every laugh I gave, every autograph I signed, carried a tiny weight.

When the final fan left and the room emptied, I finally allowed myself to drop the smile. My pen stilled.

The quiet after the storm felt heavier than the crowd ever did.

I thought about walking out, about asking him why, about demanding answers. But I knew Aqua—he’d never give me what I wanted straight. He’d dodge, hide behind his coldness, or worse, that smile of his that wasn’t really a smile.

I leaned back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling.

I wish you were here. I wish you’d seen me shine tonight. I wish… I didn’t care so much if you did.

My own thoughts stung more than the empty seat ever could.

And still, I couldn’t help but hope.

---

The dressing room smelled like hairspray and faint sweat, the kind that clung after the stage lights faded. Costumes were draped over chairs, makeup bags lay open on the counters, and the three of us—B-Komachi—sat together, still buzzing in our own ways.

Ruby plopped down in front of the mirror, cheeks still flushed with excitement. She was practically glowing, brushing her bangs back as she replayed moments from the show.
“Did you hear the crowd during the second chorus? They were screaming! I swear, it felt like the whole floor was shaking!”

MEM-cho laughed, kicking off her heels and wiggling her toes with dramatic relief. “That’s because you went all out! Seriously, Ruby, your energy was insane tonight. Kana too, of course—your timing was flawless.” She winked in my direction.

I smiled, the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes. “Yeah… thanks.”

Their words floated around me like bubbles, popping before I could catch them. I nodded when they looked at me, laughed softly when MEM-cho cracked a joke, but my thoughts were nowhere near this room.