November 14th, weekend.
The final round of the project's audition event had begun.
The venue for the judging was in Chiyoda, Tokyo.
Around ten in the morning.
Backstage, Aoki sat quietly in a corner.
From the stage came the sound of a musician performing, but he paid it no mind, letting his thoughts drift.
The rest of the Kessoku Band girls were busy adjusting their equipment.
At this point, there was no time left for more practice.
Aoki's skills—both on the keyboard and as a vocalist—had become more polished, but not beyond that.
There had been no further breakthroughs.
Not that it mattered now.
The contest followed a rotation system: after drawing lots, performers went on stage in order.
Kessoku Band's lot wasn't especially lucky or unlucky—it placed them somewhere in the middle.
But by coincidence… Or maybe fate…
The act going on right before them just happened to be Takashi Imai.
Whether it was destiny or simply bad luck, Aoki didn't waste time thinking about it.
At this stage, there was no point.
Even if he hadn't reached some new level, all he could do now was give his best performance.
As he thought this, the musician on stage finished their song.
The third performer stepped up.
There was still a little time before Kessoku Band's turn.
Aoki took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and ran the song through his mind once more.
But just as he did, a familiar voice reached his ears.
"Kei-senpai, can I sit here?"
It was Kita.
Aoki opened his eyes and glanced at her—she was already sitting beside him, her voice soft.
He gave a small nod.
"…Mm."
No more words. He closed his eyes again.
He had thought about how to face Kita—how to handle the distance between them—but right now, he still didn't know how to start.
The backstage area was noisy.
Somewhere in the background, the third performer's music began.
Aoki still didn't focus on it.
Then, as that third song played, Kita spoke again.
Her voice was hesitant, but beneath it was an unmistakable firmness.
It was the same question she hadn't asked three weeks ago—the one she had held back at the last moment.
Now, with the performance just moments away, she finally asked:
"Kei-senpai… when you sing this song… won't it affect you emotionally?"
She looked at him as she spoke, her voice still quiet.
Aoki blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
He opened his eyes and met her gaze.
From three weeks ago until now, he knew full well—the way he and Kita interacted had changed.
The closer the deadline drew, the less they spoke.
By yesterday, they had gone an entire day without saying a single word to each other.
Even when their eyes met, she would quickly look away.
He knew why things had turned out this way. The time for hesitation was running out—he couldn't afford to keep wavering.
The third performance ended. Up next was Takashi Imai.
Aoki drew in a quiet breath, looked at Kita, and after a brief silence, finally answered her.
This time, it wasn't the short, curt reply from before. And it wasn't like three weeks ago, when he'd dodged the question entirely.
The answer to "Will it affect you?" was obvious.
"Music is something that resonates with people… so of course it will."
[I Once Thought About Ending It All] was, without a doubt, a masterpiece.
And yes—Kei resonated deeply with it.
Life after his rebirth had been anything but easy.
Studying relentlessly, getting into the University of Tokyo—eight simple words to write, but living them out as a lifelong goal had drained nearly all his energy in his first life.
He had often thought—Why does someone who had a decent life before have to suffer like this?
A long time ago, he had even considered ending his life one day.
Later, he drifted through school like a puppet, forcing himself to work hard. That kind of life was dull—oppressively so.
But in the end, Kei didn't choose to end it.
The reason was simple—getting into Tokyo University could change his life.
He didn't want all his suffering to be for nothing. He couldn't accept that.
So he endured.
And this song—
I Once Thought About Ending It All —
For Aoki, it was perhaps the one song he could connect with the most.
But, as Bocchi-chan had said that day—
"People have to keep looking forward."
...
Aoki glanced at Kita sitting beside him, opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated for a moment.
From the stage, the sound of Imai Takashi's singing drifted over.
There was no doubt—Takashi's mastery of music theory was frighteningly high. And for this submission project, the piece he had composed was easily top-tier.
In about five minutes, it would be Kessoku Band's turn to perform.
After that brief pause, Aoki stood up.
He still wasn't sure how to clearly express his thoughts to Kita, but sooner or later, he would have to face it.
Kita herself might also be hesitating inside, struggling with how to deal with her feelings.
Those emotions could even affect the performance.
But no matter what—one had to keep moving forward...
Seeing him stand, Kita rose as well.
It seemed she wanted to say something; her lips parted.
But before she could speak, Aoki beat her to it.
"Whether it's feeling a connection, or remembering the past because of it—it's normal. But in the end, people have to look forward."
"If you keep hesitating forever, you'll fail."
It was almost as if he was saying it to himself.
After a slight pause, he continued.
Yes—hesitation wasn't the answer.
So no matter what he ended up saying, no matter whether their performance succeeded or failed—after this performance, he would tell Kita what was in his heart.
He opened his mouth, ready to tell her that once the performance was over, he had something he wanted to say to her.
But this time, he was the one interrupted.
Takashi's singing was already nearing its end.
Aside from the judges, several well-known figures in the animation industry had also been invited to participate in the discussion.
By now, most of the audience's cheers for Takashi could be clearly heard.
Yet Kita's voice cut through those cheers.
Her tone was soft as she spoke, getting the words out before Aoki could.
"Senpai, let's give it our all for the performance!"
She looked straight at him, her voice gentle to the core.
"And then... after it's over... I have something really, really important... I want to tell you!"
"..."
The words Aoki had been about to speak caught in his throat.
He looked at her, listened to her voice, and suddenly didn't know how to respond.
Kita might have the same doubts and hesitations he did about how to deal with these feelings— But she had still spoken before him.
For a brief moment, everything around them seemed to go quiet.
The only thing he could hear was the sound of her clear, steady breathing.
The change in how she addressed him, the small steps closer, the bento she'd made with her own hands, the little glimpses into her life she'd shared, the vague confessions...
From beginning to end, she had been trying—carefully, cautiously—closing the distance between them.
Until now.
Three weeks ago, after his own response, she had shown that forced smile, that careful restraint...
Aoki didn't know how to answer her now.
They weren't standing especially close, yet looking at the girl right before him—with those flawless features and eyes that shimmered like starlight.
He suddenly felt a strange, indescribable emotion rising inside.
[Ding. Practice detected.]
[Keyboard skill level up: Master-level → Transcendent-level.]
"Mhm."
The system's prompt barely registered in his mind.
He simply nodded and gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment.
———————————————————————
"Feels like the choice is already obvious, huh..."
"Not necessarily, there are still a few more people left... but honestly, I think the odds are..."
"Yeah, after Imai-sensei, none of the others are likely to stand out..."
Behind the judges, a few veteran figures in the anime industry whispered among themselves.
Backstage, after Takashi's song ended, a clear announcement came over the PA:
"Next up, Kessoku Band, please take the stage."
Onstage, the host gave a brief introduction for the judges.
"The next piece is from Kessoku Band, and the title is..."
The name was long and a little unusual, and the host stumbled for a split second while reading it.
But he quickly recovered.
"The title is: I Once Thought About Ending It All."