(Third Person POV)
The rooftop of Soubu High was supposed to be off-limits
A rule multiple schools use, born from...… grim practicality.
But for those in the know, the door's simple trick made it a secluded refuge.
Right now, it was a sanctuary for beings to whom a fall from this height would be little more than a stinging inconvenience.
Nanami Kento watched, his posture rigid, as Gojo Satoru, usually a whirlwind of playful arrogance, stood with a rare, focused seriousness.
His gaze was locked onto the man before him.
The other man also had hair of impossible white, but where Gojo's features were youthful and sharp, his held a gravity that spoke of maturity.
And his eyes… if Gojo's Six Eyes shone with the light of a boundless sky, this man's crimson orbs seemed to absorb it, creating pools of deep, silent intensity.
If Nanami didn't knew that Gojo just meet this guy, he might have thought they were relatives.
"Well, what a surprise," Gojo broke the silence, his voice lacking its usual lilt. "When I came looking for a curious situation, I didn't expect to find the mother-lode."
"Hmm," The man simply hummed, unmoved. "What do you want, Gojo Satoru?"
"Oh, you know of little old me? Well, I am the strongest, so I suppose my reputation precedes me." Gojo shrugged, a calculated gesture "But I know little of you, so I guess we're at a disadvantage."
The white-haired, red-eyed man didn't reply. He stood with his arms crossed, a statue of calm.
Yet, the air between them was thick with an invisible pressure.
Their auras weren't clashing with explosive force, but rather warping the space between them in a silent, deadly contest of dominion
Nanami's honed instincts, forged in countless battles against Cursed Spirits, screamed a single, undeniable truth: if he stepped between them now, he would be undoubtedly and completely annihilated.
"How about we introduce ourselves properly?" Gojo began again, his tone deceptively light. "I'm Gojo Satoru, the strongest. I teach at Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu High."
The man's gaze remained fixed. "Yoshioka Akira."
"Ooh, what a dry introduction" Gojo teased, though his eyes never lost their sharpness. "What do I want? Well, for starters, I'm happy I finally met you. Ever since I detected your little 'phenomenon' a few weeks back, I've been looking. You know, Utahime's been pulling her hair out trying to find you, taking it out on the poor interns" He shrugged. "But you look like a calm, reasonable person... are you?"
"...It depends."
"Let's cut to the chase, then" Gojo continued. "Are you the one who taught those kids? You did a great job. I'm actually a little jealous."
At the mention of his students, Akira's stare hardened infinitesimally.
It was a shift so subtle only someone of Nanami's perception would notice, but it made the hairs on his arms stand on end.
The killing intent in that single, silent moment was palpable.
"If you dare touch them..." Akira's voice was low, a promise of utter ruin.
"Whoa, whoa! I never said anything about touching them. I was just expressing professional admiration" Gojo said, waving a hand dismissively, though his own energy remained coiled. "Curiosity, you see?"
Akira sighed, a soft exhalation that did nothing to ease the tension. "I saw their potential and decided to nurture it."
"Huh, so great minds think alike?" Gojo's smile returned, but it was sharper now. "Though I'll admit, you are certainly more... interesting." His Six Eyes blazed, analysing the enigma before him. "Just as I suspected. Your very body erases any Cursed Energy that gets close. It's like my Limitless, but fundamentally different. Mine is an invisible field built and maintained by Cursed Energy. Yours... is just a void. A passive nullification of every bit of course energy around you. And if that's the passive application, I can only wonder what the active one looks like."
Gojo raised a finger. "I have a theory. Most techniques generate a phenomenon by manifesting Cursed Energy externally. My Limitless is a prime example. But yours deletes the energy itself. That would render most external techniques useless against you... unless there's a limit to how much you can erase. But that just means I'd have to spam my strongest techniques right from the start in a confrontation against you"
He raised a second finger. "But what about internal techniques? Ones that don't generate an external phenomenon? Nanami's Ratio Technique, for instance. It's like a binding vow applied to his own strikes used completely internally. Would your technique affect that? Or the Kamo clan's Blood Manipulation, if they threw a geyser of blood at you, would you erase the Cursed Energy animating it, leaving you with just a messy, harmless splash? Or would the initial momentum still carry through? It's fascinating!"
His grin was wide and genuine, the grin of a scholar who has found the ultimate puzzle. "It's the first time I've seen anything like this. I'm just dying to see what you could do in a real fight. What do you say?"
"So that's the point of this entire speech," Akira stated flatly. "You want to fight."
"Of course! When was the last time I met someone as strange as you?"
"Hmm." Akira's hum was dismissive. "If that's all, you can leave. I'm not interested in your games."
"Oh, come on! Don't you have a sense of fun?" Gojo whined, though his eyes remained serious.
"My only objective right now is to protect my students."
"Sure! Then why not send them to Jujutsu High? They'd be safe there, surrounded by other sorcerers, inside protected barriers, and being able to practice and get their power to their full extend, you could continue being a teacher there"
"You, of all people, should know that in the Jujutsu world, there is no such thing as 'safe,'" Akira countered, his voice gaining an edge of cold disdain. "The halls of Jujutsu High are less a sanctuary and more a gilded cage, poisoned by the influence of the great families. You know how it was before you were born. You know what it still is, beneath the surface"
Gojo's smirk faltered. He couldn't deny it. He knew the history, the old families treating the school as their personal fiefdom, using it to consolidate power.
Promising female students with strong techniques were often pressured into becoming broodmares for powerful bloodlines and give birth to powerful heirs.
Upstarts who grew too powerful, too independent, often met with 'unfortunate accidents' on missions.
It was a system built on the very negativity that fuelled their power, a viper's nest he was constantly trying to reform
"Well, you're not wrong," Gojo conceded, his tone losing its playfulness. "But what if I were to offer a compromise? I'm the head of the Gojo Clan. Thanks to me being the strongest, the big families can't do dog-shit against my will. So, how about this: I help you. I'll pave the way to bring your home-schooled students into Jujutsu High under my protection."
"What do you gain from this?"
"I know, and you know, that one day they will be discovered. Now that I've figured out you're not a threat, or at least, not a psychopath who kidnaps girls for blood sacrifices, I'd rather help you integrate them before the families try to do it themselves. And as you said, they won't be gentle."
"What makes you think I cannot handle them myself?" Akira's retort was icy. "If they come, I can kill them all. Erase them from existence."
"Oh, I feel that you could," Gojo agreed, his voice dropping. "And so could I, as you know. But we both know that's not the way."
Akira raised a single, questioning eyebrow.
"Genocide isn't a solution; it's a temporary solution, but then…." Gojo stated, his expression utterly serious for the first time. "Wiping out the great families would create a power vacuum that would shatter the fragile balance of the entire Jujutsu world. It would plunge us into a civil war far bloodier than the current cold peace. Innocents, sorcerers and non-sorcerers alike, would be caught in the crossfire. The resulting chaos would birth Curses on a scale we haven't seen in centuries. You might protect your students from the families, only to have them face an ocean of Special Grade curses born from the carnage you initiated. Is that the 'protection' you want for them?"
Akira was silent, his crimson eyes considering Gojo with a new, analytical depth.
"Hm," he finally hummed. "Then what do you propose?"
"Well, how about this?" Gojo's grin returned, though it was now more strategic than gleeful. "You and your students come to Jujutsu High. You prove to the big families that you not only have the Gojo family's support, but that you are also not someone to be trifled with."
"And how do we accomplish that?"
Gojo's smile widened into a familiar, predatory slash. "Of course... with a battle against the strongest. A little demonstration."
"You just want to fight me, don't you?"
"Come on, it'll be fun! And that way, the big families will see just how much effort I have to exert to beat you."
A faint, almost imperceptible smirk finally touched Akira's lips. "You mean, how the big families will see me beating you."
Gojo's smile stretched to its limit, his Six Eyes blazing with excited anticipation.
"Nah," he said, the ultimate declaration of his unshakable confidence. "I'd win"
----------------------------------
Mai's curiosity finally got the better of her.
The rumours of a second stunningly handsome, white-haired man seeking out Yoshioka-sensei had spread like wildfire through the student body.
Initially dismissing it as a wild coincidence, the gossip about them leaving together for a private conversation had piqued her interest.
And, if she was being honest, the grainy photos of Sensei in the butler uniform circulating on the class group chat were not nearly enough.
On her break, she decided to investigate, casually asking his students for his whereabouts and following their vague gestures.
After several wrong turns, she was about to give up when she rounded a corner and heard voices.
"You know; at Jujutsu High we don't have nearly enough students for a festival like this. I'm actually surprised to see one so animated and without the bloodshed I'm accustomed to"
"This is an exception. The school came into a considerable amount of funding and managed to invest it well into this event."
"And the butler uniform?"
"...A happenstance."
She'd know that calm, measured baritone anywhere.
She peered around the corner and saw him: Yoshioka-sensei, still in the devastatingly elegant butler outfit, walking alongside another white-haired man.
The similarities were striking, the height, the poise, but the differences were just as pronounced.
Where her sensei exuded a deep, still maturity, the other man carried a boastful, almost playful energy.
And their eyes... Sensei's were like deep crimson pools, while the other were an impossibly bright, piercing blue.
A blonde man in a suit followed them, looking utterly resigned. Of course, Nanami was like that after realizing how easy they became friends. The only thing that doesn't makes his headache worst is that the new albino looks more reasonable and calm than the hyperactive one he is accustomed to.
Mai saw the two white haired men walking side by side and her mind raced. 'If they told me they were brothers; I'd believe it'
"Yoshioka-sensei!" she called, stepping out.
He turned. "Sakurajima-san." He gave a slight nod.
"Well, well, another one of your students, huh?" the other white-haired man chimed in, a teasing lilt in his voice. "She's got quite the presence."
Akira nodded. "Indeed."
"Nice to meet you! I'm Gojo Satoru, the strongest!"
"Strongest? What?" Mai asked, bewildered.
"He means sorcerer," Akira clarified dryly.
"Stronger than Sensei? No way," Mai retorted instantly, a protective edge in her voice.
"Ha! See? Your students are so loyal! I'm jealous; mine just call me an idiot all the time."
"That sounds like your own fault," Akira stated.
"Ah, c'mon! We're fellow teachers; aren't we supposed to comfort each other?"
Akira simply responded with a noncommittal "Hm," then turned back to Mai. "He is a teacher at Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu High."
Mai's eyes widened, her posture shifting to one of immediate caution as she remembered her teacher's warnings about the jujutsu establishment.
"Don't be alarmed," Akira reassured her. "He is inoffensive."
"Yeah, just like a puppy!" Gojo added with a grin.
"But didn't you tell us..." Mai began, her voice trailing off.
"I know what I told you, Sakurajima. But an arrangement has been made that I see as beneficial for our group. We will be paying a... school visit to their institution soon."
"You'll love it!" Gojo interjected. "We installed new vending machines that sell limited-edition candies!"
"I see," Mai said, her wariness slowly being replaced by cautious acceptance. She trusted her sensei's judgment implicitly. She then turned to the blonde man. "And you?"
"I'm Nanami Kento. I'm also a sorcerer. Nice to meet you," he said with polite professionalism.
"Nice to meet you, Nanami-san," Mai replied with a slight bow. "Well, Sensei, my break is about over. I'll be going."
He nodded, and she left, casting one last curious glance at the trio of adults.
"You have good students," Gojo commented as she walked away. "Very loyal."
"All of their achievements are their own. I merely guided the way."
"I don't see the one with the Shikigami, though. The one who beat that crab curse."
"She is likely with her class."
"Oh well, I'll see her during your visit."
"Yoshioka-san!" a new voice called. The trio turned to see Hiratsuka Shizuka striding towards them, a determined look on her face. "I heard there was someone—Wow." She stopped dead, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of the two impossibly, tall, handsome, white-haired men standing side-by-side.
It was a visual assault. 'They're multiplying. This is so unfair'
"You didn't tell me you had family visiting," She managed, her voice slightly strained.
"We are no—" Akira began.
"Of course, Cousin Akira!" Gojo interrupted, slinging a dramatic arm around Akira's shoulders. "You haven't told them about us? I'm hurt!"
Akira turned his head slowly, his crimson eyes locking onto Gojo's face with a look of such profound, silent promise of vengeance that Nanami instinctively took a half-step back.
Shizuka blinked, looking between them. "Cousin?"
"Distantly," Akira ground out, subtly shrugging off Gojo's arm.
Gojo, utterly unfazed, chuckled. "Well, this has been delightful, but I should probably do a little more 'investigating' around this fascinating festival. Lots of interesting things to eat here" He winked, his Six Eyes scanning the surroundings once more. "We'll finalize the details for the visit later, Cousin."
Shizuka, seizing the moment to regain some control, turned to Akira. "Right. I was actually looking for you, Akira. I need to go over the final preparations for the bonfire tonight. Everything's set, but I want your sign-off on the safety protocols."
Akira gave a curt nod. "Very well. I will go to the staff room later, leave the paper on my desk, I will sign it"
With a final, amused glance, Gojo sauntered off, Nanami following with a weary sigh. Shizuka gave Akira a last, slightly flustered look before heading back toward the staff room, leaving Akira alone in the suddenly quiet hallway.
He stood for a moment in the silence, the faint echoes of the festival a distant hum. Then, a voice, smooth as silk and laced with predatory amusement, spoke from the shadows of a nearby corridor.
"Well, well. What are you doing all alone, my little rabbit?"
Akira turned, his expression unreadable, his crimson eyes meeting the captivating blue gaze of Momobami Kirari.
"Momobami" he stated, his voice flat
---------------------------
The backstage area of the auditorium was a whirlwind of organized chaos, but for a small corner, the work was done. Hana, Miko, and Yuria had just finished cleaning and storing the last of the props from their class's play.
The adrenaline of the performance was fading, leaving behind a pleasant exhaustion.
Kageyama Shigeo sat on a nearby crate, looking relieved. Lala was attached to his arm, beaming. "I'm glad everything went well," Shigeo said softly.
"It was a great success!" Lala chirped, hugging his arm tighter. "Everyone was so talented!"
Miko stretched, rolling her shoulders. "Well, that's our part done. We have the rest of the day free. What does everyone want to do?"
Lala's eyes lit up. "I want to go with Shigeo-kun to see all the food stalls! Like a date!" she declared with innocent boldness.
Shigeo's face instantly turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. "D-D-Date?!" he stammered, his eyes wide with panic.
The trio of girls burst into laughter at his flustered expression. Hana, still chuckling, pulled out her phone. "I'm going to see if there are any good stalls with pastries. I'm craving something with chocolate and cream." She began scrolling through a festival map on her screen.
As Hana browsed, Miko turned to Yuria, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, Yuria, I saw you talking with that guy from the other class earlier. The one with the guitar. What was that about?"
Yuria flushed, crossing her arms. "It was nothing! He was just asking about the props for their band's performance later. Don't make it weird, Miko."
"Sure, sure," Miko teased, "Just 'props'. He seemed pretty interested in the prop-maker to me"
Their light bickering was interrupted by Hana. "Guys, look at this." She held out her phone.
They all leaned in. On the screen was a slightly blurry but clear photo of their sensei, still in his butler uniform, walking alongside another impossibly handsome, tall man with white hair and a blonde man in a business suit.
"Wow" Miko breathed, her eyes wide. "Who is that with Sensei?"
"I don't know," Hana said, scrolling through a class group chat. "But people are saying they overheard them telling Shizuka-sensei they're cousins."
"Cousins?" Shigeo echoed, his own embarrassment forgotten in his surprise. "I didn't know Sensei had any family."
"Well, we don't really know anything about Sensei, do we?" Yuria commented pragmatically. "He just... appeared."
"Maybe they're distant cousins?" Miko suggested, studying the photo again. The new white-haired man had a playful, almost impish energy, a stark contrast to their sensei's profound stillness, but the familial resemblance was uncanny. "They do look alike... in a way."
Lala, peering at the phone, tilted her head. "He looks strong, too! But not as strong as Shigeo-kun, of course!" she added loyally, making Shigeo blush again for an entirely different reason.
Hana pocketed her phone. "Well, whoever he is, it's definitely the biggest gossip of the day. Come on," she said, her stomach rumbling. "Let's go find those pastries. Maybe we'll even run into this 'mystery cousin' ourselves"
-----------------------------------
The classroom cafe was unnervingly silent. The usual chatter and clatter of dishes had been bought away, replaced by a heavy, expensive quiet.
Momobami Kirari had achieved this by simply sliding a thick envelope of cash to the class representative and offering to cover the 'lost revenue' for every customer she was displacing, and then paying the customers and staff to leave.
Now, she sat across from Akira at a small table, the entire room to themselves. Ririka, her face hidden behind the white comedy mask, moved with silent efficiency, playing the part of the sole server making tea for the two sitting at the table
Kirari's eyes roamed over Akira's form, a predatory gleam in her blue gaze. "My, what a fascinating outfit," She purred. "How much do I have to gamble to make you wear one of those in my house?"
He didn't dignify the provocation with a response, his crimson eyes holding hers with impassive stillness.
"Don't look at me like that," she said, feigning shyness as she licked her blue-stained lips. "It's making me blush."
"What do you want, Momobami?" His voice was flat, a stone dropped into a still pond.
"I can't simply be here?" she asked with faux innocence. "I was under the impression that the Momobami family sponsored this School Festival. It's only appropriate that I get to see the fruits of my investment, don't you think? A. KI. RA-Kun."
As she drew out his name, Ririka approached and set a ceramic cup of tea before him. Akira's eyes flicked down.
He recognized it instantly
It was the same cheap, mass-produced brand he bought from the convenience store near his apartment.
The tea itself was the specific, moderately priced green tea blend he preferred.
His eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly as he looked back at Kirari.
She smiled, a wide, triumphant slash of blue. "Is it to your liking? Of course, I made sure to study all your preferences. Only the best for you."
"Get. To. The. Point." His tone remained even, but a flicker of intent laced the word, a faint pressure that, to anyone else, would have felt like the cold edge of a blade against their throat.
Kirari, instead of flinching, shuddered with delight, a blush spreading across her cheeks. "Ah~ Only you can make me feel this way. To make my heart race" She breathed, one hand drifting to fondle her chest in a suggestive gesture that Akira ignored completely "But very well. I came with an offer."
He simply raised an eyebrow, a silent command to continue.
"I want to hire you. Join the staff at Hyakkaou Academy. I will arrange any position you desire, even the Principalship. You can name your salary, and I will approve it without question."
"No."
The rejection was immediate and absolute. Kirari's smile didn't falter, but her eyes sharpened. "Oh? And why not? Aren't you interested?"
"I am aware that teachers at that institution hold zero influence or power. Why would I go to a school like that?"
"But you are different" She insisted, leaning forward. "I could ensure you have all the influence and power the others lack. You could have control over every student in the school. As principal, you could make everyone submit to your will." She undid a single button on her blouse, revealing a hint of cleavage. "Don't you want it? Power over everything in Japan? You could even have me, if you wish it. You would be the most powerful man in the nation, even the world"
"Still," he said, rising to his feet. "No."
"Why?" She stood as well, her composure cracking for the first time, genuine confusion mixing with her obsession. "Don't you want that? Power? Influence? Everything would be at your feet! You would stand at the very top!"
"And then what?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
"What?"
"Let's say I follow you. I get everything. Power. Fame. Money. Women." He listed them off as if they were items on a grocery list. "I become the most powerful man in Japan. I have untold riches, influence beyond imagination, the most beautiful women in the world fighting for a chance to warm my bed." He took a step closer, his red eyes pinning her in place. "But then what? When you reach the summit, there is nowhere else to go. A life where you have everything is a life where there is nothing left to gain, nothing left to strive for. There are no more challenges. It's just... stagnant. A beautiful, gilded, and utterly boring existence."
He didn't wait for a reply. He turned and walked out of the classroom, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving Kirari standing alone in the silent, purchased room.
Ririka stood motionless by the service counter.
Kirari slowly sank back into her chair, her mind reeling.
A man who could, as she was certain, have the ability to seize everything, to make the entire world submit, had looked at the ultimate prize and found it... boring.
He had rejected the very concept her entire life was built upon
For a girl raised in the cutthroat world of the Momobami family, where power was the only currency and the summit was the only destination, his words were a paradox that shattered her understanding.
And that confusion, that profound, fascinating mystery wrapped in a form of impossible strength and calm, ignited something in her even more intensely than his raw power had.
He didn't want to rule the world from the top. Even if her could
He was content to with his live
A slow, genuine smile, different from her usual calculated smirks, spread across Kirari's face.
It was the smile of a gambler who had just found a game she couldn't possibly hope to win, but couldn't resist playing.
He had refused her offer, her power, and herself. Time and time again
And she had never wanted him more
-------------------------------
Having changed back into his signature white button-down shirt and grey slacks, Yoshioka Akira moved through the school grounds with a different purpose.
After signing off on Shizuka's bonfire paperwork, a fellow teacher had flagged him down, reminding him it was his turn for the security patrol, a duty to ensure the festival's exuberance didn't spill over into outright chaos
He had just begun his circuit when a voice, smooth as honey, called out to him.
"Yoshioka-sensei! Fancy meeting you here."
He turned to see Yukinoshita Haruno approaching, a perfectly calibrated smile on her lips. "I heard you were on patrol duty. It can get dreadfully dull walking these halls alone. Mind if I join you? Consider it a visit from an alumna showing school spirit."
Akira gave a slight, noncommittal nod, and she fell into step beside him.
"Are you sure you don't want to stop by one of the dessert stalls?" Haruno offered, gesturing vaguely towards the courtyard. "My treat. I hear the crepes are surprisingly good."
"No, thank you, Yukinoshita-san. I'm fine."
She let out a light, practiced laugh. "So formal! Please, call me Haruno. 'Yukinoshita-san' makes me sound like my mother."
He acknowledged her request with a faint hum but said nothing more, his crimson eyes scanning the corridors for any signs of trouble.
Undeterred, Haruno tried another angle. "So, what are your hobbies, Sensei? I'm quite an avid reader myself. As a literature teacher, you must have wonderful recommendations. Any authors you're particularly fond of?"
"Hmm," he murmured, his gaze still forward. "I'm sure my literary tastes would differ significantly from your own."
Before Haruno could craft a clever reply, a new voice, bright and slightly breathless, interrupted them.
"Excuse me!"
They turned to see two girls. One had warm brown hair and strikingly large... assets, her figure accentuated by her attire. Beside her stood a taller, tomboyish girl with a more cautious expression.
"Are you Yoshioka-sensei?" the brown-haired girl asked, her gaze fixed on Akira.
"Hm," he nodded. "Do you need something?"
"Umm, do you remember me?" she said, a hopeful smile on her face. "I'm Tawa Yotsuba. You saved me when I was falling on the overcross a few weeks ago."
Akira's eyes held a flicker of recognition. "The girl falling from the stairs."
"Yes, that's me!" she replied, her happiness palpable. "Umm, I wanted to thank you properly. You really saved me that day." She fumbled in her small bag and pulled out a neatly wrapped bag of chocolates. "I wanted to give you this. Thank you for helping me, Yoshioka-sensei!"
In a rush of nervous energy, she practically shoved the chocolates into his hand, then grabbed her friend's arm and fled down the hallway, leaving a faint echo of giggles in her wake.
Haruno watched the entire exchange with an amused, analytical glint in her eyes. "My, my. Quite the heartbreaker, aren't we, Sensei?" she teased. "Should I warn my little sister to keep her distance? I must protect her youthful purity after all"
"Keep your comments to yourself," Akira stated flatly, pocketing the chocolates without further ceremony
"Fine, fine," Haruno conceded, her smile not fading. She seamlessly transitioned back to her objective. "So, as I was saying. I'm planning a shopping trip soon to restock my personal library. Since you're such a knowledgeable man of letters, I was wondering if you might be available to offer your expertise?"
"I'm sorry, but my schedule is full at the moment" He replied, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.
"Oh, I see," she said, not missing a beat. "Then, perhaps I could trouble you for your contact information? That way, I could send you a few titles for your opinion when I'm browsing"
Akira stopped walking and turned to fully face her. His crimson eyes seemed to weigh her request. After a moment that felt longer than it was, he gave a curt nod. "Very well."
"Excellent" Haruno said, her victory carefully contained. They quickly exchanged numbers. "I'll be in touch then. See you around, Sensei."
She offered a final, charming smile before turning and walking away, her mission for the day accomplished.
Akira watched her go for a second, his expression unreadable, before he continued his patrol, the quiet of the hallway once again descending around him
------------------------------
The air backstage was thick with a tension far different from the usual pre-live jitters at STARRY. This wasn't a dimly lit basement for a few dozen dedicated fans. The muffled roar from the other side of the heavy curtain was from hundreds of people, teenagers their own age, teachers, parents, the visiting adult.
The Soubu High auditorium was packed.
Gotoh Hitori felt like she was going to be sick.
Her palms were so slick with sweat she worried her pick would slide right out of her fingers.
She could feel her knees trembling, a frantic, uncontrollable vibration that seemed to travel up her entire body.
Next to her, Ijichi Nijika was tightly gripping her drumsticks, her usual sunny smile replaced by a thin line of concentration.
She took a deep breath, but it hitched halfway. "O-okay, team. We can do this. It's just like STARRY, but... bigger. A lot bigger."
Yamada Ryo, for all her stoic cool, was silently adjusting her bass strap for the third time, a sure sign of her own nerves.
Kita Ikuyo was fussing with her hair, her cheerful chatter reduced to nervous hums.
This was different.
This was huge.
The backstage door opened with a soft click, and a figure slipped inside. The tall, white-haired form of Yoshioka Akira was a calm presence amidst their storm of anxiety.
"Sensei!" Nijika said, her voice a mixture of surprise and relief.
He gave a slight nod, his crimson eyes scanning each of them, taking in their pale faces and tense postures. "You all look like you're facing an execution, not a performance," he observed, his voice its usual flat baritone.
"We... it's just... there are so many people out there," Hitori managed to whisper, her voice barely audible.
Akira regarded them for a moment "This auditorium," He began, his gaze sweeping over them, "Full of your peers, is merely your first real stage. That live house was your practice room. This?" He gestured towards the curtain. "This is where you take your first true step. Every great band, every artist you admire, once stood where you are now, terrified, wondering if they were good enough. The difference between them and those who faded away is that they walked onto that stage despite the fear."
His words weren't filled with fiery passion, but with a simple, undeniable truth that cut through their panic. It wasn't about being unafraid. It was about playing anyway.
Just then, the announcer's voice boomed from the other side of the curtain, clear and bright. "Alright, everyone! Let's give a huge Soubu High welcome to our next performers... KESSOKU BAND!"
The roar of the crowd swelled, crashing against the curtain like a wave.
The four girls froze, their eyes wide. This was it. Their moment. In unison, their gazes snapped back to their teacher, seeking one last anchor.
Akira looked at each of them, at Nijika's determined grip on her sticks, Ryo's steadying breath, Kita's forced but bright smile, and Hitori's terrified but resolute eyes.
Then, he did something they had never expected someone as quiet and non-expressive as him to do
He slowly raised his hand, his expression as impassive as ever, and gave them a single, solid thumbs-up.
It was a small gesture, but from him, it felt like a benediction.
A silent command of 'Go.'
Nijika took a deep, real breath this time. "Let's go," she said, her voice firm.
Ryo nodded. Kita grinned, the nerves transforming into excited energy. Bocchi clutched her guitar, the trembling in her knees subsiding into a focused buzz.
Together, they turned and walked towards the blinding light and the roaring sound, taking their first, monumental step onto the big stage.
Akira watched them, silently murmuring "Max Level Cheering still does wonders I see"