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Aiura Mikoto had always believed silence was the worst possible thing that could happen to a person.
Not exactly because it was scary, but more so because silence meant nothing was happening. No one was reacting. No one was paying attention. Silence was what followed when you stopped being interesting. That why she became intent on making noise.
“Good morning, losers!”
Her voice rang out across the classroom the second she slid the door marked ‘3-1’ open, sunlight catching on her glittery bangles and earrings as she leaned in with a grin sharp enough to cut glass. A few students groaned on an instinct, others laughed, and some muttered her name under their breath. The ideal reaction.
Aiura strutted to her seat with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly how much space she took up and intended to occupy all of it. Her skirt swayed, her nails flashed, and her lashes fluttered dramatically as she leaned over Saiki Kusuo’s desk.
“Wowww, Kusuo! You look sooo tired today. Were you dreaming about me again?” She drawled, winking obnoxiously in his direction.
He gave no response, but an advantage of being a psychic is feeling what you cannot hear. The familiar brush of psychic resistance washed over her, a subtle pressure of his presence acknowledging hers whether he liked it or not. That was enough to keep her smiling.
She got into her seat, spinning her phone between her fingers, playing with her fluffy bunny-eared phone case. Around her, the class buzzed with the usual low morning conversation. Aiura soaked it in, basking in the noise like sunlight.
At school, she was completely unavoidable.
The day passed in flashes of colour and sound. She teased classmates, traded gossip, predicted fortunes for everyone she encountered no matter if they asked or not. She laughed loudest when people laughed with her. When someone’s attention drifted away, she leaned in closer, voice brighter, smile wider. By the time the final bell rang, her energy was still crackling, electric and restless. She lingered longer than necessary, chatting in the hallway, walking slower than usual.
Eventually, though, the building emptied, and Aiura went home.
—
Her house greeted her the same way it always did, with a deafening, hollow silence.
The door closed behind her with a soft click. The air smelled faintly of cleaning solution and nothing else. There was a lack of the typical homely elements—no TV buzzing in the background, no food sizzling in a pan, no voices drifting in from another room.
“I’m home!” Aiura called out anyway, sing-song and bright. She found that the sound echoed.
She kicked off her heels harder than necessary, letting them clatter against the marble floor. The noise made her feel better, somehow, even though no one reacted. She checked the kitchen out of habit.
The lights were off. The fridge, when she opened it, was full. Bottled drinks. Pre-cut fruit. Carefully labeled leftovers she didn’t remember eating. On the counter sat a small sticky note, written in tidy handwriting.
‘Working late again. Don’t wait for me.’
Aiura snorted and shook her head. “As if I would.”
She peeled the note off and stuck it crookedly to the fridge, then leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. Her reflection stared back at her from the darkened microwave door, tan skin, big hair, bold makeup. Aiura’s entire appearance was bright, loud, impossible to miss.
At least, that was the idea.
She grabbed a drink she didn’t want and wandered into the living room, flopping dramatically onto the couch. The cushions barely creaked. Everything in the house was designed to absorb sound, remaining pristine and in placed, zero trace of human contact. Her phone buzzed, causing her to perk up instantly, grin snapping back into place before she even checked the screen.
The contact name “Kusuooo<3” appearing made Aiura’s hands shake in a giddy shock, and the message containing the question ‘My Grandparents in town and my Grandmother insists on seeing you again. Can you come round tomorrow?’ caused her heart did a stupid little jump in response.
Saiki rarely texted, he had only got himself a phone around about a year ago, Aiura liked to think it was due to her own begging to connect the two further. She typed back immediately with an enthusiastic acceptance, fingers flying, words playful and teasing and alive. Engaging in a conversation, having someone responding for just a few moments helped the empty house fade into the background. So when the conversation lulled, the silence crept back in.
Aiura stared at the ceiling, twirling a strand of greenish-blondeish hair (she could never decide on what the colour was) around her finger. Her powers hummed faintly beneath her skin, whispering futures she didn’t want to hear tonight. Destiny had begun to feel unappealing when nobody asked how her day had been.
—
Dinner, when it happened, was quiet.
Her mother sat at the table with her laptop open, posture perfect even in casual clothes. Her father was on a call in the next room, voice low and professional, words blurring into white noise. Aiura slid into her chair, bangles clinking deliberately, causing her mother to look up.
She shot Aiura a look, more akin to assessment than any type of interest..
“You’re very tanned lately.” her mother said mildly.
Aiura smiled wide. “Cute, right?”
“It’s.. striking.” she replied, the comment holding no substance.
Aiura leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. “Good! I was going for striking.”
Her mother hummed and returned her attention to the screen. “As long as your grades don’t slip.”
Another comment that displayed no observation, Aiura’s grades hadn’t “slipped” recently per-say, but it is hard to slip down when you are already near the bottom. She was sure her mother wasn’t aware of her ranking though, or any element of her life for that matter.
Aiura ate quickly after that, appetite gone, and escaped upstairs before the quiet could press in too hard. In her room, she tossed her bag aside with a clank of the keychains and collapsed onto her bed, resuming her staring match with the ceiling.
Her room was the only place in the house that looked lived in—far from a minimalist retreat, and enjoyably hyper-personal to her. On the floor, faux fur rugs are splayed out, plush pillows line her bed, her vanity overflows with makeup, hair tools, perfume bottles, and neatly displayed accessories. Magneta Gyaru Idol posters and photo collages act as a cover for any white wall that remains, yet also as a reminder of company.
She sat up and caught her reflection in the mirror, focusing in on her disguise of caked-on concealer and large lashes. It helped to see such a loud figure in such a quiet house. The idea of taking her makeup was something she could not bare, so she burrowed her face into her pillow and decided to sleep in it.
—
The next afternoon, she found herself standing in front of Saiki’s house. Anxiety was not a feeling she had often, but she noticed her finger lingering over the doorbell for a moment longer than usual. Shaking it off, she began to press it, anticipating for Saiki’s usual tired demeanour to slowly open the door and let her in. But instead, Saiki teleported directly infront of her before she could, causing her to jump back in alarm and almost fall directly into the bushes.
“Kusuo! What the hell, not cool!” Aiura shrieked, trying to pull herself up from her half-tumble to the ground.
‘Sorry. I just need to pre-warn you before you step in that my parents are arguing. I couldn’t communicate it through telepathy as having my ring on makes it difficult.’ Saiki responded, stepping back to give Aiura space.
Saiki met her exclamation with silence, and the key turned in the lock without his hands ever touching it, the door swinging open smoothly under telekinesis.
Aiura squinted. “That was absolutely unnecessary.”
The noise from the house hit her the second she stepped inside.
It was less of the sound, but more of the presence. Voices overlapped loudly from the living room, Saiki’s parents mid-argument in that distinctly theatrical way that made it impossible to tell whether they were genuinely upset or just committed to being loud about nothing. The TV blared in the background. Something metallic clattered in the kitchen, followed by an indignant shout and then laughter.
“You always exaggerate! I did tell you where it was!” Saiki’s mother snapped.
“You said ‘somewhere obvious’, that’s not a location!” his father shot back.
“It was obvious to me!”
“Why couldn’t we just get Kusuo to find it? He has psychic powers yet he can’t even help out his dad!”
“Oh don’t you dare bring Ku into this-“
Aiura froze in the entryway for half a second, eyes wide. She couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing.
“This place is wild!” she said, spinning once on her heel, the charms on her bracelets chiming. “How do you live like this, Saiki?”
Saiki closed the door behind them, pointedly ignoring the question. There was a faint pulse of embarrassment in the back of her mind, as if she had just revealed the solemn interior of her own home.
Before Aiura could say anything else, Saiki’s mother appeared as if summoned by her presence alone.
“Oh! Aiura-chan!” she exclaimed, hands already reaching out. “You came! Kusuo, why didn’t you tell me sooner? You must be hungry, have you eaten? Are you cold? Do you want tea? Juice?”
Aiura opened her mouth, then stopped. The rapid fire concern and interest hit her a beat late. She hesitated, just for a moment, before her smile snapped back into place.
“Yes!” she said quickly. “Totally! I’m good- super good!”
“Good, good!” Saiki’s mother beamed, already ushering her further inside. “Make yourself at home!”
From the living room, Saiki’s father leaned over the couch. “Oh! You’re the girl Kusuo talks about!”
‘I do not-‘ Saiki started.
Aiura laughed again, louder this time. “Does he now?”
The arguing resumed almost immediately behind them, now about whether guests required special snacks or if “normal snacks” were already special enough. Aiura drifted through the noise like it was music, eyes catching on everything at once—the mismatched cushions, the family photos crowded along the wall, the way Saiki’s mother touched his shoulder as she passed without even thinking about it.
Then-
“Is that Aiura-chan?”
She turned sharply at the sound, seeing Saiki’s grandmother stood near the hallway, still wearing the youthful type outfit Aiura saw her in last time, eyes bright with recognition. “Oh my, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Aiura’s face lit up, genuine surprise breaking through her practiced cheer. “Oh my god, hi! It’s so nice to see you again!”
The older woman chuckled. “Of course I’m here. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” She peered at Aiura approvingly. “You’ve gotten even brighter since last time. I almost needed sunglasses.”
“Hehe, you think so?” Aiura leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I’ve been working on my glow.”
Saiki’s grandmother laughed warmly. “Come and sit, you can tell me what you’ve been up to. Last time you promised to explain that fortune thing of yours properly.”
Aiura glanced back at Saiki, surprised.
He looked away. ‘I suppose she remembered.’
“That’s so rude.” Aiura said lightly, following his grandmother anyway. “I’m unforgettable.”
As they talked, about school, about silly predictions, about nothing important at all, Aiura felt something unfamiliar settle in her chest. The noise didn’t fade. The bickering continued in the background, punctuated by laughter and exaggerated sighs. Someone called out from the kitchen again. Someone else answered.
No one told anyone to be quiet.
Everyone was here, loud and unapologetic.
When she finally stood to leave, far later than she’d planned, Saiki walked her back to the door without comment. Outside, the evening felt oddly muted, reminding her of what she was to go back to.
“..Thanks,” she said suddenly, hand on the gate. “for inviting me, I mean.”
‘It reduced complications.’ he replied automatically.
She smiled at him, softer than usual. “Yeah. Sure.”
—
The next day, her parents forgot to tell her they were leaving for a business trip. She came home to an empty house and a note on the counter.
That night, she sat in front of her mirror and didn’t put on makeup. She stared at her bare face, hair loose, unstyled and wondered what the point of it all was.
—
The next day, she joked about fate like she always did.
“I’m totally destined to find someone who’ll never ignore me..” she said lightly, shuffling a tarot deck in her hands to prepare for another (quite grim) compatibility reading for Chiyo and Kaidou.
To her surprise, Saiki turned around and said flatly ‘That’s not a type of destiny, it’s just basic human decency.’
She blinked in shock at his remark, and he continued, quieter.
“You don’t need to be so loud to be visible.”
Hearing this made something in her chest crack.
—
Saiki’s words didn’t cause her to change overnight. After all, being gyaru was part of her identity, rebellion at the core, of course, but also a resonation with her soul. She remained loud, and flashy. Yet the next time her mother commented on her appearance, Aiura didn’t laugh it off.
“My look, It’s not just some phase.” she said calmly.
Her mother looked up at her, a slight hint of interest she typically reserved for her laptop being shifted now to her daughter.
“..I see.”
It wasn’t exactly a revolutionary accomplishment, but coming from the woman who had forgotten 3 of Aiura’s birthdays in a row, it was certainly something. Progress—if you’re being generous.
And at school, Aiura laughed and teased like she always has.
But now, when she declared, “It’s fate!” It was less definitive, she knew she didn’t need to shine to be seen.