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When Art enters Nowhere that afternoon, Birthday, Ratio, Koneko, Hajime, and Murasaki are all gathered around Nice and his laptop.
“So you’ve even dragged Koneko into this now, hm?” he calls the moment he recognizes the neon magenta and dancing bodies on-screen. A passionate woman’s voice echoes throughout the cafe, alternating between English and Korean; based on the vocals and the red bar creeping forward, they’re nearly finished watching the music video.
Koneko is the first to turn toward him. “Ah, welcome, Art-san!” she calls back, then furrows her eyebrows. “But what do you mean by ‘even Koneko?’”
“Nice is making us all watch all twelve videos and then pick a favorite,” Murasaki answers her, rolling his eyes. “Something about confirming a theory he read online that your music taste correlates to your personality and life experiences.”
“It’s not a theory,” Nice hisses, “it’s the truth! Now shush.” He puts a finger to his lips and gestures for Koneko to turn back around. “I can’t hear.”
Koneko nods obediently, murmuring “sorry” as she returns her focus to Egoist. Art joins them, and after Nice has backtracked the video a few seconds they watch the rest. This close, he can see the extent of just how deeply Ratio, Birthday, and Hajime are enraptured; none have blinked since he’d entered the cafe a minute earlier.
The two young women in the video have their rooftop encounter, the credits roll, Hajime does blink, and Nice closes the laptop. “So?” His eyes are as bright and wide as the metaphorical spotlight he’s putting on Koneko. “What did you think?”
Koneko shuffles her feet. “Um…” Eyes pleading, she stares at Art. “You said ‘making us all watch,’ right? So which was your favorite, Art-san?”
The question seems to revive Birthday and Ratio as well. “Ah, yeah!” Birthday waggles his eyebrows over his sunglasses. “I bet you don’t really listen to this kind of stuff, so which was it?”
Art folds his hands together, and he’s staring at the seated Nice when he confesses “the last one you all just watched—Olivia Hye’s Egoist.”
Nice smirks, Murasaki frowns, Hajime stares, and Koneko turns pink.
Ratio coughs into his elbow. “Well, that’s to be expected.”
“Now I feel dumb for even asking,” Birthday mutters, picking at his ear.
Art gives them all a tight grin. Nice had waited until after he’d declared his favorite to explain the theory, likely because he’d thought Art would have concealed the truth if he’d done so beforehand.
He’d been right, of course.
But Art wonders if he’d given Murasaki the same treatment. “You seemed to know Nice’s reasonings for showing everyone these videos, Murasaki. I’m curious as to which was your favorite.”
Murasaki’s cheeks burst into flames. “I didn’t—”
“It was New,” Nice interrupts, smirking even more widely than he had a moment ago. “The one with all the apples and the crane game.”
“The one where she spilled yogurt?” Hajime asks.
“The one where she spilled yogurt,” Nice confirms.
“You shouldn’t waste food,” Hajime mutters under her breath.
“Tell that to Murasaki,” Nice shoots back.
Murasaki only continues to fume in silence.
New? Which one had that been? Tuning out their playful banter, Art tries to recall the lyrics. It hadn’t been the one about colors that featured an octopus, had it? No… and it hadn’t been the one with the bird and diamonds, either.
Ah that’s right, it had been—
Art bursts out laughing. “Of course,” he wheezes, “of course it was that.”
Murasaki stops glaring at Nice to glare at Art instead. “I don’t know what you’re getting at,” he states cooly.
Art’s abdomen is beginning to cramp. “Actually, I’m pretty sure you do."
“Well,” Birthday cuts in, “I don’t know what either of you two are getting at, but my favorite was Singing In The Rain.” He tilts his head, gazing around their cluster expectantly. “So what does that say about me?”
“It says you’re perverted,” Ratio says, nodding to himself.
“It definitely says you’re perverted,” Nice agrees.
Birthday starts to pout. “Hey! You were supposed to tell me something deep and meaningful about myself, here! Like, insights to my brilliance, you know?”
“If you had any brilliance,” Nice claims, “you’d realize you don’t have any.”
Art swears he sees a spark flash as Birthday scowls. “How does that—”
“Anyway!” Clapping his hands together, Nice turns to Hajime beside him. “Which one did you like best, Hajime-chan?”
Hajime puts her hand to her chin, humming for a moment. “The second to last one.”
Something in Nice’s eyes falls away, then, like a barrier being let down. “Ah, One&Only?” He puts a hand to his chin too, and begins to hum the tune along with Hajime. “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”
“I liked the dancing,” Hajime offers, and even Murasaki has to grin.
Never one to let a heartfelt moment linger, Birthday pokes his partner’s arm. “What about you, Ratiocchi? Whose dancing did you find the most appealing, hm?”
Shrugging, Ratio bats away Birthday’s hand. “There wasn’t any one song or music video I liked better than the others, really. They were all pleasant.”
Nice clicks his tongue. “I bet you weren’t even watching the videos, were you, Ratio? You were totally just watching Birthday watch them.”
Murasaki lowers his head a bit in what Art presumes is solidarity, because now it’s Ratio whose cheeks turn bright red. “That’s—”
“Well…” Laughing a little, Art cuts off Ratio’s futile protest. “That does say something in it of itself.”
And Koneko, who has been standing still with her hands folded together, her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes scrunched closed, chooses then to exclaim “Ah! I think I figured out which one my favorite is!”
The tension is immediately dissolved as Nice eagerly demands “Oh? Which, which?!”
Koneko tilts her head. “Heart Attack?” she asks, like she’s not quite sure herself.
Art’s mouth falls open a bit. “Ah.”
“Ohh.”
“Yeah.”
“Of course.”
“Mhm.”
“Makes sense.”
“Eh?” Both her ponytail and actual tail swish as she whirls around, staring at them one by one. “Wait, why do none of you sound surprised? What does that say about me?” Then, when she’s met with only silence, Koneko becomes the blushing trio's third member. "Was it really that obvious?” she murmurs to her clasped hands.
“That’s okay, Koneko-chan,” Art offers her. “It’s a very sweet video.”
And no sooner has she withered than she blooms again, perking upright. “It is! I like how Chuu-san isn’t afraid to confess her love to the person she likes, and—”
“And?” Hajime echoes, since Koneko has cut herself off.
Eyes locked on Hajime, Koneko bites her lip and clenches her hands into fists: the very picture of determination. “She’s very pretty herself… of course her crush wouldn’t say no!”
"Ha—" Nice starts before Murasaki elbows him in the ribs. The name fades into a hiss of pain, and Art feels the urge to laugh again.
Only an easy chuckle escapes. "You know, Nice, you're still the only one of us who hasn't declared their favorite yet."
Murasaki's eyes widen as he elbows Nice again. "That’s right… Even after all that, you never told me which one you liked best. I can't believe you."
“Huh?" Nice demands. "Isn’t it obvious?” Art raises his eyebrows, Murasaki furrows them, and Nice sighs. “Guess not. Well, for the record, it was HaSeul’s—Let Me In.”
Art's laughter is dryer this time, hoarse in his throat as Murasaki spits out the water he'd chosen the wrong moment to sip.
But not even water can cool down how heated Murasaki has clearly become over the answer.