"And for our second song… That Band!"
With that announcement, the Kessoku Band launched into their final number. Their first performance had been rough—offbeat, uncoordinated, and messy enough to draw more concern than applause. But everything changed when Bocchi broke through with an electrifying guitar solo.
Her solo didn't just shift the mood—it ignited it. The band came alive.
By the end of their second song, "That Band," the audience was clapping and cheering, genuinely moved by their comeback.
Backstage, Yukima Azuma was waiting with bottled water and a quiet smile.
"Azuma-kun!" Bocchi lit up the moment she saw him.
Yukima handed out drinks to the exhausted girls. Then, with practiced ease, he took a tissue from his pocket and gently wiped the sweat from Bocchi's forehead.
Bocchi nearly fainted from embarrassment. Meanwhile, the others could only stare in disbelief.
Why does she get all the special treatment?
They didn't sign up for a live concert AND a romcom!
But before they could tease her—
"Bocchi, can I borrow you for a bit?" Yukima asked with a grin, pulling her away before she could protest.
…
They left Shimokitazawa behind and rode the train to Ginza. As they neared the cinema, the crowd thickened.
Even from a distance, Bocchi could feel the energy—this wasn't just a movie night. It was an event.
When they entered the theater, a massive ticket line stretched across the lobby. Bocchi shrank back, overwhelmed.
Without a word, Yukima took her hand, holding it firmly. Bocchi tightened her grip in return. The moment was small but grounding.
Despite her earlier worries about not getting tickets, Yukima had already prepared them. She tried to apologize, but he waved it off.
"It's fine. I've got you."
They found their seats—center, perfect view. As the lights dimmed, Bocchi inhaled the comforting scent beside her and let herself melt into the experience.
The film began.
A sweeping shot of the Titanic crossing the ocean silenced the theater. When the iconic "You jump, I jump" scene played, sniffles echoed through the room.
Bocchi felt her eyes well up. She turned slightly, curious about Yukima's reaction—only to catch sight of a nearby couple in a very public kiss.
Her cheeks flushed. She looked around. Another couple. And another.
This really was a romantic film.
Then came a whisper, low and close:
"Hitori… do you want to?"
His breath brushed her ear. Her whole body tensed. She turned, dazed, eyes glistening under her hair.
But Yukima didn't move closer. He just pointed to himself.
"I won't resist. If you want something… take it."
Bocchi's heart pounded like a kick drum.
It was up to her.
Her vision wavered. Too many people. Too many feelings. And yet…
Yukima gently placed a hand over her eyes.
Now, the world faded.
She leaned forward.
The sky was blue. The grass was green. The sunset burned gold and red.
Don't ask for more details—what happens next will sink the ship.
…
By the time they left the theater, the credits were rolling.
"Let's watch another movie next time," Yukima said, smiling.
Bocchi, pink to her ears, nodded.
This wasn't friendship anymore. She knew it. And maybe… she didn't want it to be.
…
The Next Day
Eriri arrived at the Ginza cinema in a carefully chosen outfit. Not too casual, not too obvious. But as they checked the tickets…
"Wait—what's going on with these seats!?" she blurted.
Yukima glanced at the label: Couple Seating.
A double-wide reclining bench. No divider. Built for intimacy.
He raised an eyebrow. "Umu. Intentional accident?"
"N-no! Sayuri-obasan must've bought the wrong tickets!" Eriri squeaked, then quickly sat down to hide her red face.
The theater was cold. Not long into the film, Eriri shivered and huddled to the edge.
Yukima sighed, putting an arm around her.
She weakly pushed him away—but didn't try very hard.
"Don't move. I don't have a jacket. You'll freeze if you don't stay close."
"…Fine. But you better thank me for saving you," she grumbled, nestling against him.
She smelled like pears. Sweet and calming.
As the movie reached its climax, Eriri burst into tears, sobbing against his chest. Yukima tilted her face up gently, brushing her damp cheeks.
Then, he kissed her.
She whimpered but didn't resist. Instead, she leaned into him completely.
And her lips tasted like pears, too.
…
Titanic, in this world, had launched later than in Yukima's previous life. But it had come at the perfect time.
Global recovery from an economic crisis meant moviegoers were ready to spend.
The final global box office?
3.4 billion USD.
Yukima Azuma's investment: 10 million USD for 3.5% equity.
His return:
119 million USD —
18.2 billion yen.
He sat back, satisfied.
Love might sink hearts, but money?
Money always floats.