In the end, under the careful guidance of "Mama" Uika, both Kyo and Mana thoroughly reflected on their mistakes—probably.
With that settled, Kyo couldn't very well continue wiping herself down so casually. At the same time, Uika realized they had left her sitting there, drenched in sweat, for far too long.
If they didn't do something soon, she might actually catch a cold.
"Kyo, do you have a change of clothes?"
Uika gestured toward the soaked shirt tossed to the side. It looked like it had just been pulled out of a bucket of water—there was no way Kyo could wear it again.
"Nope."
Kyo blinked.
Her mother—Ms. Shuku—had nagged her about this many times before.
If she was going somewhere she'd sweat a lot, or if there was a chance of rain, she needed to pack a spare outfit in a waterproof bag.
The first was because she had a habit of drenching her clothes from the inside out. The second was because, if given the chance, she would impulsively run out into the rain and get herself completely soaked.
But clearly, she had forgotten her mother's advice again.
Now she'd have to figure out how to explain herself later.
"In that case…"
Uika stepped back, giving Kyo a quick once-over, mentally noting her size before nodding to herself.
"Kyo, would you like to wear one of my spare idol outfits? It'd be a good chance for you to experience what it feels like to be an idol."
"Huh? Why not mine?" Mana chimed in, tilting her head. "Wouldn't your clothes be too big for Kyo?"
"…Mana, I'm only two centimeters taller than you."
Uika sighed.
Apparently, this wasn't the first time people had assumed she was much taller than she actually was.
Kyo nodded in agreement. "It's probably because you have a mature and reliable aura, Uika. It makes people naturally assume you're tall."
Then, after a brief pause, she added, "And if you're offering, Uika-nee, I'd love to try it. I haven't had much exposure to the idol industry before."
"You'd definitely make a great idol, Kyo! You're super pretty!"
Mana cheered, waving her hands enthusiastically.
What an adorable person.
Kyo thought to herself.
Cheerful, energetic people like Mana were naturally likable.
And to Kyo, they were also refreshingly easy to understand.
She could relax, knowing that interacting with Mana didn't require much effort or second-guessing.
That's great.
...
The changing room was right next to the break room.
After handing Kyo a fresh towel and a spare idol outfit, Uika and Mana stayed behind, waiting in the break room.
"Uika, Uika, do you think Kyo would ever want to become an idol?"
As she spoke, Mana finally opened the donut box that had been sitting on the table.
She carefully picked out the two biggest ones and set them aside before happily nibbling on one herself.
"Maybe."
Uika took the donut Mana offered her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before taking a small bite.
Though she had only spent about ten minutes with Kyo so far, the name Kikukawa Kyo wasn't unfamiliar to her.
In the industry, there were people who loved to gossip—so much so that Kyo had already been given a rather odd nickname:
The Overflowing River.
Later, some tried to make it sound more elegant, calling her a wellspring of talent, but the first nickname was so strange that it left a stronger impression.
The meaning behind it was simple—people were just saying that Kyo had a natural gift.
But now that Uika had actually met her, she didn't feel that so-called "overflowing brilliance" people talked about.
Kyo was certainly beautiful, but so far, she just seemed like a polite, well-mannered girl—pleasant to be around, even a little endearing.
She gave off the kind of presence that made people instinctively want to take care of her.
Maybe I just haven't seen her talent firsthand yet.
Still, even if Kyo was as much of a genius as the rumors claimed, Uika had never once doubted her own abilities.
She had been praised ever since her debut, and she firmly believed—
If I had been the guitarist in Sakiko's band, I could have done even better than Kyo.
Knock, knock, knock.
The door to the break room was knocked on, and a moment later, Kyo stepped inside.
She was now dressed in sumimi's signature black-and-white idol outfit. The set Uika had given her featured a predominantly black dress with a wide white belt cinched just below the chest—positioned high on the torso to accentuate Kyo's already well-proportioned figure and emphasize the length of her legs. Below the belt, the skirt flared out, overlaid with a sheer white veil that provided a striking contrast to the deep black fabric beneath.
As expected, Mana was the first to react.
"Whoa! Kyo, this outfit looks amazing on you!"
"Does it?"
Kyo tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear—a common enough motion, but the way she did it, paired with the soft, gentle smile on her lips, momentarily stunned the two sumimi members.
Mana blinked, glancing between Kyo and Uika, then rubbed her eyes.
"Wait… am I seeing two Uikas?"
Uika was just as surprised.
"Kyo… were you imitating me just now?"
At first glance, it was almost like looking into a mirror.
But upon closer inspection, it was clear—this was only a resemblance, not a perfect replication.
A better analogy would be the reflection of one's face on the surface of water. While the image was there, rippling distortions kept it from being entirely true to reality.
In the next instant, Kyo's demeanor shifted again. Though she was still smiling, there was now a quiet serenity to it, distinctly her own.
"I figured, since I was wearing Uika-nee's outfit, I might as well try to mimic her," she explained. "That was the thought process, more or less. It seems I did a decent job?"
"For a moment, it really felt like you were Uika!"
Mana circled the two of them, scrutinizing the details.
"But… there's definitely something different. I can't put my finger on it, though…"
She racked her brain, struggling to find the right words.
Kyo, however, wasn't concerned.
It was enough for her to confirm that her imitation remained just that—superficial, incomplete.
That day, when she had laid everything bare with Shoko, Kyo had realized something.
Even if she could identify what someone was feeling, even if she could categorize and label those emotions, her way of processing them had long since deviated from what was considered normal.
She had always prided herself on her ability to break emotions down into objective, structured notes.
For years, that had been the key to maintaining smooth interactions with others.
But now, she understood—this very method, the one she had relied on for so long, was what kept her from truly grasping emotions for what they were.
And yet, without it, she wouldn't even be able to hold a proper conversation with others.
So, she had decided to try something new.
She had spent so much time compiling detailed profiles of different people, reducing them to carefully outlined entries.
Now, what if she gathered everything about a person and applied it to herself?
What if she learned to mimic not just their outward expressions, but the very way they thought?
Would that bring her closer to truly understanding them?
Would this be a breakthrough?
Or was she simply constructing a new cage for herself?