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Chapter 36 - Chapter 36: Expressing Through Song and Music

Even in early June, the rain still carried a chill—when it landed on your skin, you could feel its cold bite.

It was Saturday, the sky was overcast, and the temperature outside hovered around 20°C.

Because it was the weekend, Aoki Kei didn't wake up particularly early.

He stirred around 9 a.m., and since it was already late, he skipped breakfast.

After a quick wash and tidying up his small rental apartment, he settled in to read the novel he'd been working through—The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya.

He'd almost finished it over the past couple of days, and now only a few pages remained.

As he read, he debated whether or not to buy the sequels.

After spending some time with the book, he switched over to reviewing some math problems.

By lunchtime, he took out the trash and picked up a bento from the nearby store.

It was freshly made fried chicken—crispy, not soggy from the sauce, and reasonably priced.

After finishing his lunch and completing the novel, Aoki Kei grabbed his guitar bag and transparent umbrella around 1 p.m. and headed for the train station.

He arrived at the live house early, but not earlier than the girls of Kessoku Band.

Since today was their first official live performance, the group was already in the STARRY recording room, practicing for the evening show.

When Aoki Kei stepped inside, the girls were halfway through a song.

Not wanting to interrupt, he quietly sat to the side and listened in.

However, after a few minutes of listening, a subtle frown formed on his face.

Ryo and Bocchi-chan were doing alright—Bocchi's playing had a few small slips, but nothing too serious, and Kita was performing steadily on guitar.

But Nijika...

Something felt off.

Though the rest of the band was keeping time well, Nijika's drumming seemed slightly out of sync—as if her mind was somewhere else.

When they finished their first run-through and got halfway into the second, Aoki Kei hesitated before raising his voice to stop the rehearsal.

"Nijika-san, your rhythm's been a little off... Is something wrong?"

Nijika paused mid-strike.

Breathing heavily, she replied, "I'm just... a bit tired. I'll be back on track next time."

Aoki Kei opened his mouth, as if to say something more, but after a moment of hesitation, simply nodded.

The third run-through was noticeably better—both overall and specifically in Nijika's drumming.

But even so, her usual precision was slightly dulled.

The rhythm still had minor imperfections.

Maybe she just wasn't in top form today. If it's only a few small issues... it should be fine, right?

Still, a vague unease tugged at the back of Aoki Kei's mind. He shook his head to brush off the feeling.

This was their first live show—it had to go well.

Holding on to that thought, he stayed at the live house until evening.

Only three minutes remained before Kessoku Band's first live performance would begin.

And then—

Just before the girls stepped onto the stage with their instruments in hand, Aoki Kei finally found out the reason for Nijika's strange behavior from the manager, Seika:

"She caught a bit of a fever after getting drenched in the rain two days ago. I took her to the doctor this morning.

He said it wasn't serious, and she felt a bit better after some fever meds. She insisted on performing today, so... yeah."

That unease buried deep in his chest suddenly flared up again, sharp and unmistakable.

Kessoku Band was ready.

The stage lights dimmed briefly, then flared to life again as the sound of Nijika's drums echoed through the venue.

No problems.

Next, the bass and guitars joined in, syncing up perfectly with the drums.

Still no problems.

Thirty seconds in, the tempo picked up slightly.

Still fine.

At the 45-second mark, they entered the chorus.

The rhythm sped up again—

Aoki Kei had heard this song, "That Band," countless times during rehearsals.

He knew every beat, every phrase, every shift in tempo.

So he noticed immediately:

'Thud—'

At the chorus, the drumbeat was supposed to explode into rapid-fire cymbals and snare hits—but Nijika missed the very first beat, a half-step too slow.

From there, things spiraled.

Mistakes made her panic. Panic led to more mistakes.

On stage, Nijika's breathing grew shallow and fast.

She could feel her rhythm falling apart.

She tried to recover, to get back on beat—but her body wouldn't cooperate.

'This isn't like rehearsal at all. I can't keep up.'

Bocchi, Kita, and Ryo were all holding their own.

The only one lagging behind... was her.

'I'm losing control. I can't keep up. What do I do?'

She tightened her grip on her drumsticks, desperate to match the band's pace.

But no matter how hard she tried, the perfect synchronization they had in practice was slipping through her fingers.

'What am I supposed to do?'

'I promised I'd prove myself to Aoki-senpai. I said I'd push through the pressure and get better, no matter what…'

The more Nijika tried to match the band's rhythm, the more her drumming fell out of sync. And the worst part? She could clearly hear where she was going wrong.

'I can't put any strength into it…'

She looked down at the drum head, then up at the sea of faces in the audience.

For a split second, it felt like their gazes were mocking her.

She tried to ignore it, tried to get her timing back.

Biting her lower lip, her arms limp from the relentless playing, sweat poured from her forehead.

'Catch up to the beat… Please, just catch up!'

'I don't want to fail. I can't fail!'

Until—

'Clack.'

The second chorus began, but Nijika's grip finally gave out.

Her drumstick slipped from her fingers and hit the stage floor with a sharp crack.

Everything froze.

The drumstick lay on the stage.

And so did Nijika's focus.

Her thoughts scattered, and she stood still, stunned, eyes fixed on that lone stick.

In that moment, for the first time, the dream she had poured into the band wavered.

————————————————————————

In the Backstage.

Aoki Kei exhaled softly, that creeping feeling of unease becoming a reality.

He quietly tidied up the nearby table, slung his guitar over his shoulder, and made his way to STARRY's recording room.

————————————————————————

Three minutes later.

The four girls of Kessoku Band stepped into the room.

A heavy silence blanketed the air. No one spoke. No one even shifted.

The five of them sat there in a suffocating stillness.

Finally, Kita Ikuyo spoke up, trying to break the tension:

"Um… Nijika-senpai… Everyone makes mistakes. It's normal. Mistakes help us grow. I'm sure next time… next time everything will go great."

The words fell flat. Silence returned like a tide.

Nijika opened her mouth, trying to respond, but nothing came out.

Her voice caught in her throat.

Then, with visible effort, she forced a smile—so fragile it could shatter with a whisper.

"I-I ruined everything… because of me, all of your hard work went to waste. I'm sorry. Next time… I'll be better. I'll fix it. So… please…"

Her voice trembled, barely holding it together.

She stopped herself before she said more, lips pressed shut to keep the tears from spilling.

In the corner, Aoki Kei watched the girl who always smiled, who always held the group together, and let out a breath.

Call it strength, call it stubbornness—Nijika always wore a cheerful, dependable smile, hiding all her emotions beneath it.

Even now—

That forced grin. That hollow reassurance.

That apology teetering on the edge of a breakdown.

She always played the role of the responsible one.

She always tried to carry the whole band's burdens on her own.

But human emotions don't work like springs.

They don't bounce back just because the pressure lets up.

They're more like balloons—eventually, they'll pop.

Nijika had carried a lot—stepping up when Kita ran away, comforting Bocchi after their first disastrous live show, always staying positive for the group.

She smiled, even when she wasn't okay.

But this time… This time, no one else had messed up. It was just her.

And Aoki couldn't help but wonder: could she really take that weight alone?

Someone as responsible as Nijika… something like this could tear her apart inside.

"I don't want to let the band down. I don't want to disappoint you, Aoki-senpai."

He remembered her words from the other day, when they met in the rain.

The look in her eyes—determined, hopeful.

He took a deep breath.

Somehow, he just knew—he had to do something.

Not for appearances. Not to protect the band's morale.

Not because it was the "right" thing to do.

Just because he didn't want to see Nijika like this anymore.

He just wanted her to smile again.

That warm, energetic, adorable smile she always wore.

Even if it caused him trouble. Even if it pulled him into something messy.

A quiet breath.

And then, as that thought fully formed, a translucent blue screen popped up in front of him:

————————————————————————

[Ijichi Nijika is currently emotionally devastated. At this moment, you choose to—]

[Option 1]: Ignore her. You don't want to get involved in troublesome things.

(Reward: 100 points, random beginner skill)

[Option 2]: Gently comfort her.

(Reward: 100 points, random beginner skill)

[Option 3]: Encourage her with motivating words.

(Reward: 100 points, random beginner skill)

————————————————————————

Aoki Kei glanced over the options, then slowly closed his eyes.

None of these were what he wanted to do.

He didn't believe some pep talk would magically fix things.

And someone like him—who'd spent most of his life alone wasn't exactly great at emotional support.

And the rewards? He didn't care about those right now.

Humans don't always think logically.

Sometimes, they act on instinct.

Call it impulse, if you want.

He quickly dismissed the screen and looked at Nijika.

Then, standing up, he asked—without any attempt at comfort or grand wisdom:

"Do you want to stay and listen to the other bands' live sets?"

Nijika blinked, surprised.

After a moment of hesitation, she nodded.

"Alright," Aoki said simply, walking over to the door and pushing it open.

No words of comfort could fix what had just happened.

So instead—

He'd show her.

Through music.

And through action.

———————————————————————

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