It's funny how we live our lives full of uncertainty and only with our minds on the future. Where we're going, what we'll become, regrets of pasts we've left or people and events we've let slip by. But now that I think of my own past, and the privilege granted to me that time—I remember it will always be one of my greatest of achievements. As for the magic of that particular time... Well...

I've come to realize that what was truly magical came to me after Pigu, Mogu, and the Mystery Man became nothing more than memories.

It was only at that time, that my true memories began.

Chapter 1: Recollection

Though it was hard to lose my precious magic and the life I had established on the side as Fancy Lala, it was something that everyone had to come to terms with. I guess it was really difficult for my fans, as with the concert and all so welly received and my instantaneous jump to encroaching stardom it was all to be expected. That not only the people whom I had come so close with in that short time but everyone else in the broad spectrum... even now it brings me a tear.

Eventually though, when the searches and the tabloids speculations died down finally, I took it upon myself to honor my promise that I had made towards the beginning. And that was to tell my best friend Yuuki Akiru everything that made the connection between Lala and I. Everything...

Why? You may ask, but a promise was a promise and quite truthfully I found it unbearable to hold inside me. Besides... it was well worth the look on her face when she finally accepted the connections I drew.

Connections? You want to know what connection could there be to link us when Lala herself was still six years away? That's easy enough. There was plenty of evidence in knowledge only as well as personal time—that is, that once Lala left the scene I was able to do all the things I had done before. But aside of all that was the unmistakable evidence of my drawings. Sketches and drawings in existence long before Fancy Lala ever had her debut as Model for Lyrical Productions.

Before... Fancy Lala. The words sound so lonely, as though making her to be someone—rather, a goal that's unreachable and far away. But that's exactly the opposite of what is wanted, so it shouldn't be a problem. The problem instead was—what was it?—something that happened shortly thereafter... Ah, Yes!

The problem was what came everyday after...

Well... that's jumping ahead of myself just a little. The problem wasn't everyday on the surface as it was so much everyday in my mind... as it was mentioned that in several years I would be the real Fancy Lala. And then what? Several years and then Fancy Lala all over again, only also-ly known as Shinohara Miho! Now... that was the problem that emerged then. Faced with the knowledge of what I was and what I was to become... geh... not-so-nice-memories. Though it was what Akiru pointed out and I knew then that my momentary amends to the people of Lyrical Productions was just that... momentary.

Ah——what a nightmare!! Just when I thought I had severed all ties I came to the unbearably tantalizing sense of awareness that to do so was just inviting trouble down the line. How or when was the question of the time... but surely Miho would turn into Lala and there would be no hiding it other than the six years required to complete the process. And what then? Scandalous!—is just a word that could reflect a moment in the hectic world to come!

But luckily that's behind me now. These years of sacrifice and turmoil were well deserved and now it is time to emerge into the public spotlight once again as the one they once loved.

Of this I'm certain of... and there's no turning back!

"Okay Miho, you can open your eyes."

Miho sighed at the soft tone of her stylist and opened her eyes to her own reflection of the girl she had become over these past six years. Her fifteen year old version of herself the splitting image of every aspect of her alter-ego with the only difference being her deep chocolate-rich brown hair that was styled in an elegant cascade down her back.

There was a slight knock at the door and her manager/co-singer partner, Kawaguchi Ririka, peeked her head in and flashed a smile in her direction.

"All set Miho-chan? It's time."

Miho smiled back and stood with slight assistance of Komiyama.

"It is time," she said proudly, "A time six years in the making, ne Komi-san!?" She moved in a way that let her hair sweep gracefully in a wide arc about her back. With one last flicker of a smile at her stylist she disappeared through the doorway, knowing full-well that there was a return smile that followed her out.

The pair walked down the hall and paused at the edge of the outer curtain wall of the stage, Lyrical Production's president, Haneishi Yumi, there to greet them.

"Ready, Miho-chan?" she asked kindly. A warm light reflected deep from the back of her eyes. In a way, she reflected a soft parental love despite the absence of relation.

Miho gave a slight nod, eyes brimming with confidence.

"Then there's nothing more to say. Go make history... in your own way."

"Hai!" Needing not to hear more, she ducked past the curtains and aimed for the secondary curtains just on the stage edge. From an unknown signal a voice began to blare an introduction to the waiting audience.

"-Now to the stage, 7th on the charts at an age of only fifteen years old, fast rising star———Shinohara Mihoooo!-"

Key to the punctuation, Miho burst from the curtains and onto center stage, plucking the microphone from the stand and holding it gently against her chest while the noise of the crowd began to die down. Enamored with unrestricted enthusiasm, Miho whipped out the mike and began her introduction that was sure to shatter the music adoring collective of young Japan.

"I am Shinohara Miho—" she held onto the microphone with the one hand and ran her fingers through her hair with the other hand, grabbing tightly to her own hair. "A.K.A.—" In one quick motion, she plucked the mass of brown hair from her head and as it started to trail across her face, locks of blue hair could be seen emerging on their own, until it was clear that her hair was indeed blue, just as the mass of fake brown impacted with the ground and her final words: "—Fancy Lala-desu!!"

With a gracefully deep bow and no need for a microphone she cried out a final phrase, "Please look after me!"