Aoki didn't notice anything unusual about Kita at that moment.
He said nothing, simply waiting quietly as Nijika and the others read through the entire score and lyrics.
It wasn't until about half a minute later, once he was sure they'd all finished reading, that Aoki finally spoke again.
"We've got three weeks left. That should be enough time to practice. I'm good on my end."
After stating his own situation, he paused for a moment before asking the girls,
"Do any of you have other things you need to take care of? This submission project isn't that important—so if you don't like it or have something else that might get in the way, it's totally fine not to join."
"I'm fine," Ryo replied with a shake of her head.
"I don't have anything else going on either," Nijika said.
"M-me too… I've got plenty of free time…" Bocchi stammered.
Kita, however, hesitated.
She glanced down at the lyrics again, then lifted her gaze toward Aoki.
After several seconds of silence, she gave a small nod.
"I… I'm fine too."
With no objections from anyone, they decided to participate.
Nijika would handle the electronic drums, Ryo the bass, Bocchi the melody guitar, and Kita the rhythm guitar.
Aoki himself would take the role of keyboardist and lead vocalist.
Exactly three weeks remained until KL Club's final judging round.
It wasn't extremely tight, but it was far from ample time.
With everyone present, they started practicing that very afternoon—familiarizing themselves with the score, running solo parts, and trying tentative ensemble runs.
After more than half a month, Kessoku Band was back to practicing for a new song.
Since Aoki already had the complete arrangement for "I Once Thought About Ending It All" in his head, he could instantly pick out any mistakes the others made.
He corrected them as they went, adjusting to the band's pace himself.
They practiced straight through until 8 p.m.
It was getting late, and they began heading home.
Ryo planned to stay a bit longer, while Bocchi left early by herself.
Aoki and Kita happened to be going the same way, so they walked together.
It was late autumn, and the nights were already noticeably longer than the days.
By 8 p.m., it would've been pitch dark even in midsummer—let alone now.
Under the streetlights and neon signs spilling from nearby shops, they strolled slowly toward the station.
Neither spoke along the way.
After a ten-minute ride on the train, they disembarked.
Their routes still matched, but unlike the bustling streets of Shimokitazawa, this neighborhood had only a few streetlamps and barely any neon signs from shops.
It lacked the liveliness of downtown, but in exchange, it felt more… peaceful.
But how does one define "peaceful," really? Is it simply "not noisy"? Or does it have to be in the countryside to feel this way?
Walking slowly, Aoki's mind drifted from thought to thought—until Kita's voice suddenly broke in.
She hesitated before speaking.
She knew exactly what she wanted to say, but that clarity made her hesitate all the more.
From the moment they first met until now, nearly half a year later, Kei-senpai had never shared his personal struggles or his past life with the others.
But Kita knew—at least a little.
That he had kept his burdens to himself.
That after quitting his job, he had joined the band and thrown himself into winning.
That even while saying to the others, "Happiness matters more than results," he had still pushed himself relentlessly.
He never talked about his past life, never once described how he had been living.
Yet a month ago, he had confronted her mother in a way that was like rubbing salt into an open wound.
And now, here he was again—bringing out this song, "I Once Thought About Ending It All."
Kita wanted to tell Aoki, "A band is a whole—sometimes you don't have to shoulder everything alone."
She wanted to say, "Some things are fine to hide. Some things are fine to leave unspoken."
But if she said that… wouldn't she be the one bringing up his past?
When she tried to speak, her voice caught in her throat.
The urge to say something was stronger than ever—but what exactly should she say?
They walked with half a body's distance between them, Kita slightly trailing behind.
Under the streetlight, the side of Aoki's face was sharply illuminated.
She remembered something he had once said. She remembered the lyrics she had just read.
And suddenly, an impulse stirred in her heart.
They were almost home.
From behind him, after a moment of hesitation, she raised her hand.
Just as she had imagined once before, she reached forward—gently yet with all her strength—and tugged at Aoki's right hand.
"Um… Kei-senpai," she said, stopping in her tracks. "Sometimes… it's okay to lean on me… or on everyone in Kessoku Band."
The sudden warmth in his hand startled Aoki from his wandering thoughts.
He froze for a moment, stopping mid-step because of Kita's unexpected action.
Turning back, he looked at the girl beside him.
She seemed nervous from what she had just done—he could clearly feel the faint trembling of her small hand holding his.
She didn't meet his eyes; instead, her gaze dropped toward the ground.
He took a quiet breath and watched her for a moment.
The night breeze passed gently by.
Aoki might not be great at reading emotions, but the fact that he had self-studied his way to first in his grade proved he wasn't slow-witted.
He knew Kita was aware of parts of his past.
From their conversations and her behavior, he could tell she had somehow learned about his quitting his job to join Kessoku Band—a gamble with everything on the line.
And because of that, she felt a kind of "guilt" that, to Aoki, had no basis at all.
His life, his choices, his persistence—none of it was the band's burden to bear.
He could shoulder the responsibilities of Kessoku Band, but he would never place his own personal burdens on its members.
Tonight—whether because of the lyrics, or something else entirely—Kita had hesitated, then decided to try and share a weight that didn't belong to her at all.
Aoki understood.
But as he had said before, he didn't want to bring pressures unrelated to the band onto the girls in it.
So…
Under the streetlamp, Kita Ikuyo kept her head slightly bowed, her face partly hidden in shadow.
Aoki gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then released it.
The warmth in his palm faded as Kita lifted her gaze.
He smiled faintly and said, "Relying on others… it's not really necessary for me. But if I truly need to, I'll do as you say, Kita."
He figured that would be enough to keep her from pressing further.
But then—
Kita shook her head firmly.
She looked up, the light falling across her face.
"But… but! I don't want you to keep being alone like this, Kei-senpai…"
Her eyes brimmed with sincerity, though her voice still carried a trace of hesitation.