After school, Ishikawa Hayabusa made his usual trip to STARRY.
The moment he stepped inside, his gaze locked with Nijika's as she quickly looked toward the door.
For an instant, her eyes flickered with anticipation before softening into a warm smile.
"Hayabusa-kun, you're here early today."
That line really should've been his. After all, Nijika and Ryo's school was farther from STARRY than his, and on top of that, their school was much stricter. Yet somehow, they were already here, sitting like they had been waiting quite a while.
How did they even manage that?
The look Nijika gave him made Hayabusa hesitate for a moment. Originally, his plan was to guide the story so that Nijika would be the one to bring Gotoh Hitori into the band.
Because if he stepped in and did it himself, who knew what kind of butterfly effect it might cause? The bonds between them might twist in ways he couldn't control.
"Arriving before even a pervert like me—amazing! Truly impressive, you two."
Hayabusa spread his fingers, half-covering his face with a haughty expression as he descended the steps, posing dramatically.
Nijika could only smile helplessly before standing up.
"Well then, since Hayabusa-kun is here, shall we start practice?"
She didn't ask a single question about what happened with Kita Ikuyo earlier.
"Mm."
Ryo also nodded and rose.
"Wait!" Hayabusa raised a hand.
"Hmm?"
The two turned, watching him approach from behind.
"Actually, I already met with Kita today."
The moment he said it, Nijika's expression didn't brighten as much as he expected.
"...I see."
Her tone was calm, almost neutral.
"Here, I've got a video of her apology."
Hayabusa pulled his phone from his pocket—the one he had originally planned to show them on the final day.
He was never fully comfortable manipulating others behind the scenes, even if he called himself a pervert. Only when he set that aside did he feel like himself again.
And honestly, if he needed to, he had countless ways to bring Gotoh Hitori into the band.
"Huh?"
Nijika and Ryo exchanged startled glances, then looked at him with worry—suspecting, perhaps, that he had done something… extreme to Kita.
Hayabusa ignored their stares and placed the phone on the table, tapping play.
"Ryo-senpai, Nijika-senpai, I'm so sorry!…"
On screen, Kita Ikuyo appeared unharmed, without a trace of coercion. She spoke sincerely about her reasons for joining the band, admitting her impulsiveness, her lack of explanation, and even apologizing for pretending to be more experienced than she was.
Nijika, far from angry, looked relieved after watching. Her cheerful energy returned at once.
"So that's how it is. If only she'd told us sooner."
The radiance of an angel!
Hayabusa's eyes welled up with emotion.
Still, he tried to guide things back on track.
"Also, today her hand injury got worse, and she's got dark circles under her eyes."
"No way!"
Nijika immediately leapt to a worrying conclusion, her eyes widening at Hayabusa.
He nodded gravely.
But Ryo said flatly, "She should be careful. Her hand could be ruined."
"Yes, yes! I'll message her right away."
Nijika fumbled for her phone, typing frantically.
"I already warned her about that," Hayabusa added with a smile, pocketing his phone again. "By the way, Captain—don't you think we should wait for all our members?"
"Captain?"
Nijika blinked in confusion at first, then realized he meant her.
When it clicked, her face bloomed into a radiant smile—the kind that made this dim underground space feel like paradise. She bounced lightly on her toes, her ponytail swaying as she answered in a girlish tone full of energy:
"Of course!"
…
"But don't expect too much from Kita's guitar skills," Ryo reminded them as they stepped into the practice room.
"True, no matter how much she practices, in just a little over a week, she won't improve that much…" Nijika agreed, but then her eyes slid sideways toward Hayabusa, who was already striking dramatic poses nonstop.
"As long as you transcend humanity and become a pervert, nothing is impossible!"
Hayabusa declared proudly, having shed all restraint in front of them.
"Kita-chan definitely can't do that," Nijika sighed. But she didn't sound too worried.
"It's fine. For most bands, their very first performance is a disaster. What matters is taking things step by step."
As she spoke, she literally took a few tiny steps forward.
Hayabusa stepped up and patted her shoulder.
"Forgive me if this sounds rude, but… Nijika, you'll definitely make a wonderful mother someday."
Blink. Blink. Nijika froze, stunned.
"Wait—what!? How did we skip straight from 'wife' to 'mother'!?"
Then it hit her. Maybe in this band, the people around her weren't fragile at all—they were iron-hearted. They didn't need her comfort.
Her words of encouragement had been wasted on blocks of wood.
The realization left her a little drained… but also relieved. It was nice knowing everyone was this strong.
"Well then, no time to waste—let's start practice."
"Yeah~!"
Hayabusa's booming shout instantly lifted the atmosphere.
And so, Ishikawa Hayabusa's daily cycle continued: acting like a pervert at home in the morning, spending lunchtime alone at school, indulging his theatrics at STARRY in the afternoon, and studying by himself at night.
One week later.
That evening, the Ishikawa family sat down for dinner.
Ishikawa Jinpei eyed his son—who was grinning so brightly his eyebrows practically smiled along with him—and felt a chill of unease.
Normally, Hayabusa always wore a smile. But this kind of smile only appeared when he started proclaiming himself a pervert or doing something outlandish.
He had a bad feeling. Someone was about to have a very unlucky day.
"Hayabusa, don't go doing anything illegal," Jinpei warned.
The moment he said it, his son's expectant grin seemed to burst from deep inside, and he put on an exaggeratedly troubled face.
"Eh… whatever shall I do~?"
Around the table, the other three family members shivered, immediately setting their chopsticks down.
No living creature dares to eat in the face of danger—and humans are no exception.
Across from Jinpei, Hibiki sat stiff as a board, neck straight, not even daring to glance sideways. Her lips moved silently:
"Call the police!"
Jinpei caught her words, but he and his wife—sitting opposite Hayabusa—didn't dare speak. They exchanged looks instead.
We can't handle this boy!
Don't shove the danger onto public servants!
At last, the three shared a glance and came to a silent conclusion.
They pressed their palms together.
Namu.
But in truth, Jinpei felt both reassured and proud of his son.
Back when he and his wife had a rocky relationship and even separated for a time, it was their seven-year-old boy who had given him a scolding.
Normally, being lectured by your own child should feel infuriating, humiliating even. Yet strangely, Jinpei hadn't felt angry at all.
Because the words Hayabusa spoke back then had been so earth-shaking…