Promptober 2026 Day 7: Orbit
There were three presenters at the Konica Minolta Planetarium: A man, and two women.
The man, who Uika thought of as ‘Kenjiro,’ had a rich, resonant baritone that was easy to imagine filling every corner of the theater even if it hadn't been playing over a PA system. Also, ‘Machiko,’ a woman so distinguished, precise, and refined that Uika could only picture her as a family matriarch from the Heian era, robes pooled all about her like a roiling sea.
And then, there was Woman Number Three.
Woman Number Three was the newest addition to the planetarium’s cast, and by far Uika’s least favorite. The problem was not that Woman Number Three was reading a script - it was the way she read it. She had the flat affect of a Tokyo newsreader and read the script in a cheerful, informative monotone that reminded Uika strongly of the elevator in her talent agency's office building.
Today’s program, alas, was being guided by Woman Number Three.
“Black holes grow larger by consuming matter. Scientists call this process accretion,” her voice chirped. “The main light source from a black hole is a structure called an accretion disk.”
The night sky spun above their heads and faded into slowly moving image of a large black hole, ringed with bright starlight.
“The gravity well of the black hole is so massive and powerful that it even pulls in light itself.” Woman Number Three said.
The image shifted. The angle changed. The ring around the singularity of the black hole - its inky core - grew even brighter.
“As particles approach the black hole,” the woman said, “they are subject to extreme gravitational forces. Anything that gets close enough to enter its gravity well will be accelerated to almost the speed of light. This creates the ring effect called the corona.”
A faint smile touched Uika’s lips as the matter-of-fact droning continued.
“In fact, it is due to the corona effect that black holes are visible at all. The x-rays which the black holes emit are only detectable because of the dying light being swallowed within it. These final cries are the only thing that escape.”
She stifled a giggle. She couldn’t help it. Hearing such a melodramatic sentence spoken in the woman’s weatherman-like cadence was too much for her. An older woman two seats to her left shot her a look that dripped with disapproval, and she reasserted control.
The rest of the show was interesting, but not particularly novel. Still, the chance to get out of the sun for an hour was worth it. There were so few places that Uika felt like she could drop her guard. Here, in the dark with only the starlight projected above, she could breathe.
Outside, the late afternoon sun was blazing, and Uika stretched as she walked down the long staircase outside the planetarium. The moment that light hit her face, the friendly smile was right back where it belonged - an “isn’t-that-young-woman-so-polite” smile, an idol’s smile.
Then, suddenly, she stopped.
Someone she knew was standing at the bottom of the stairwell.
Shiina Taki.
MyGO’s drummer. Former band member, CRYCHIC. Former bandmate of Sakiko and Mutsumi. Classmate of Umiri and, of course, herself. She sat three seats up in the same row and tended to arrive five to ten minutes later than Uika herself, likely because of the train schedule. She had a job at Livehouse RiNG, the venue where MyGO performed every two to three weekends. Her parents both played with the Tokyo Symphony Orchestra, which lead them to be out of town for days or weeks at a time, leaving Taki to come home alone between eight and nine o’clock to an empty townhouse that must nevertheless have been very well-appointed (Uika had not yet been inside). Her older sister was a musical prodigy currently studying at the Tokyo Music Conservatory, where she had been admitted on a full scholarship. No social media presence to speak of. Uika suspected (but not yet confirmed) that she was in charge of moderating the comments made on MyGO’s official Youtube channel and Instagram account.
She liked pandas, and disliked food that contained her name, likely due to childhood teasing.
She was in love with Takamatsu Tomori.
Tomori, of whom Sakiko still spoke with gentle fondness.
Tomori, who despite simply stumbling aimlessly through her life, somehow still managed to draw in so many celestial bodies. To arrest their orbits. To devour their light.
For this last reason alone, Shiina Taki was very interesting.
“Taki-chan!” She cried, raising a hand in greeting. The time between which she had seen Taki and called out to her was less than a second, but in that second, her entire mannerism seemed to relax.
Taki looked around in surprise. “Oh– Uika,” she said. Somewhere in the folder in Uika’s mind, never uses honorifics was written down, too. “Were you just at the planetarium?”
“That’s right,” Uika said. “Are you going to a show?”
“Oh– well, I mean–” Taki stumbled over her words. “Yeah. Um, Tomori invited everyone along to see the… new show this week, and I thought that since I hadn’t been to the planetarium since I was a kid, it might be… nostalgic.”
Uika’s smile widened, and she nodded. “It was really good today! It’s funny - I was just thinking about MyGO a few minutes ago, and now, here you are. I thought your last show was really amazing.”
“Oh– you saw it?” Taki rubbed the back of her head. The girl could not take a compliment. “Thank you… for your support.”
Uika ignored the feeling of awkward formality in the air. “Mhm! You know, it’s really easy to tell that as a band, you guys are so close. You must work really hard to keep everything together.”
Taki shook her head, looking modest. “No, no,” she said. “It’s– I don’t really do anything. It’s Tomori–”
“Oh, Tomori-chan - ah, her voice is so cool, isn’t it? I mean, her stage presence - she just has so much gravity. Don’t you just feel like you’re getting drawn in by her whenever you see her sing?” Uika’s eyes sparkled. “She’s really special.”
For some reason, this last comment seemed to cause Taki great relief. “...yeah,” she said, nodding firmly. “She really is. I’m glad that I can play with her.”
Uika nodded. “I know the feeling - it’s the same with Saki-chan, you know? Sometimes I feel like I could just follow her around forever, and it would make me happy just to have the chance to have met her. Oh, but– of course, you played with Saki-chan too, you and Tomori both, right? So you both probably know how that feels.”
Taki smiled faintly, but seemed to draw away from the implication that she might once have been close with Togawa Sakiko. “Well, I guess… I mean, I’ve felt that way about– about people before, yeah.”
Uika gave it exactly two and a half seconds, then leaned ever so slightly forward. “What about Tomori-chan? You think she’s ever felt that way about anyone?”
Nothing had changed in Uika’s voice. It never did. She was too good for that. Still - did Taki hesitate before she answered?
“Tomori? I… guess I don’t know,” Taki said. She was quiet for a moment, then added, almost as an afterthought: “I hope so.”
“Me too,” Uika said. “Isn’t it the best feeling?” Grinning, she reached out and momentarily gripped Taki’s hand in both of her own.
“Do your best, Taki-chan.”
For once, she meant exactly what she said.