It was easy, once she started: she turned down the hallway. Took one step. Took another. Followed that thought, that impulse, down the hall, through the door. Gave herself one quick look backwards. If she had seen anyone - if she'd run into Ritsu - that would've been it; she would've given up.

But they weren't there; they were probably all in the dressing room, still, bouncy, doing ridiculous things with makeup and practicing what poses made them look the most like rock stars.

She should be in there with them. She'd wanted to be, dreamed of this. But with the dream always came panic. She could never forget flashing the entire assembly, could never give up her fear of having her voice go haywire on her in front of an audience.

She was letting her fear drive her away now, at their biggest moment. She knew that. She knew it, knew that it wasn't the same as if Yui ran off, or Azusa: they'd played with one guitar, before, and Azusa was skilled enough to improvise if need be.

But she? Wasn't irreplaceable - she wasn't that immodest - but, well, she was their only bassist.

The gig had been a surprise that Ritsu (of course it was Ritsu) had given them, the best gift she could offer. She'd made a lot of friends at their college, and one of them knew someone who knew someone. And so here they were in Osaka, at some venue that was just one step up from a dive bar. But it wasn't an open mic night; they'd been asked to perform. Their name was on the door. Above one of the other bands, even.

She'd heard that some of the girls from her fan club (and didn't that still make her flutter and blush and stammer) back in high school were going to show up. She'd seen the messages posted online, on those stupid social networking sites that Mio had joined under duress (from Ritsu) but mostly tried to ignore. Well, ignore, but also monitor surreptitiously in case someone posted horrifying pictures of her.

She'd been excited about the gig, and happy for the rest of the band, too. Happy that Azusa was going to join them, that they had managed to keep that connection.

And yet here they were, and she wanted to just flee, not looking back.

She slipped out the back door of the bar. The subway was close by, and then it was only a few stops to the train station and an irrevocable decision. She felt calmer as she moved to the street.

There was someone there, blocking her way. Her heart stuttered.

Then she realized. It was Ritsu.

Of course it was Ritsu.

"I was just," Mio began, blush racing up her cheeks.

Ritsu laughed, hands on hips. "I know what you were doing." She didn't seem angry - her laughter seemed genuine.

"But - I was just - how did you know?"

Ritsu took Mio by the arm, gently, and turned her around. She looked at Mio, face oddly solemn and still. Mio blinked, and blushed, as the world shifted.

Ritsu dropped Mio's arm and coughed. "Of course I knew," she snickered. "I know that you're still not over flashing your underwear to the entire school."

Mio snapped, "Will you stop bringing that up?" And she and Ritsu bickered all the way backstage.

This was what Ritsu intended, she realized. For a split second she was angry, and then grateful. Ritsu really did know her; under the jocularity and pushiness there was understanding. She was known.

It was comforting.

And now Mio was here, with the rest of them. Yui gave her a cheerful greeting as they walked in; Mugi pushed a cup of tea into her hands; Azusa asked if she could go over the bridge of their newest song with Mio.

This was where she belonged. With terror and love and hope all in one heartbeat. In one room, together.

She took a deep breath (and a gulp of tea) and flashed Ritsu a smile. She knew Ritsu would understand the message. Ritsu always had, even when she pretended not to.

"I'm ready!" Mio said, forcefully. I am, I am, she thought to herself. Here. With you.