Stepping up the stairs outside STARRY, the air seemed to grow lighter. The joy bubbling in her chest quickened her pace.
Step, step.
The weight of her guitar bag swayed steadily against her back, grounding her in its reassuring heaviness.
Climbing up from the sunken stairway, the cool breeze of May brushed past her cheek, as though peeling away a heavy shell she had been carrying, leaving her frighteningly light.
Bocchi hurried a few steps ahead, then stopped, worried that her sudden rush might scatter the fragile joy in her heart.
She lifted her eyes to the sky. Stars stretched endlessly above, and for a moment, she felt like she stood at the center of the universe itself.
The twinkling starlight around her flickered closer, as though gathering at her side.
I have to overcome my social anxiety—show them everything I can do.
Resolute, she stepped forward. The unsteady version of herself was left behind; the new her had taken one step further.
Even the silent streets now seemed transformed in her eyes.
For Nijika, for Ryo, for Kita, and for Hayabusa—for the band, I have to…
Memories of the performance spilled into her mind.
"The mysterious girl making her debut… Bocchi!"
She couldn't help repeating Ishikawa Hayabusa's exaggerated introduction of her, a giggle bubbling up with her mood floating higher.
And just when she could almost hear a chorus of "Bocchi! Bocchi!" echoing in her ears—
Thud.
Her shoulder smacked into something.
Startled, she snapped back to reality, meeting the other person's surprised gaze. Her drifting thoughts shrank back inside her body at once.
In a trembling voice, she stammered, "S-s-sorry! I'm sorry!"
…
"Well then, I guess I'll head home too."
Stretching lazily, Ishikawa Hayabusa spoke to the three girls still inside the room.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Nijika smiled and waved at him.
Kita glanced at Ryo, who was dozing off in the corner, then turned back to Nijika. After saying her goodbyes, she followed behind Hayabusa.
Once outside the livehouse, she spotted Hayabusa a few steps ahead and quickened her stride to catch up.
"Ishikawa-kun."
On the neon-lit street, Hayabusa paused and looked back.
"Thank you—for letting me rejoin the band."
Under the glow of the streetlamp, Kita Ikuyo bowed deeply, her voice firm.
"There's no need to thank me. I just want the world around me to be beautiful, that's all."
His tone was casual, light.
Kita raised her head, eyes locking on the boy. The glittering city lights, the bursts of laughter, the colorful, dazzling world—all of it paled beside him.
In her gaze, only his refreshing smile remained.
"We're headed in the same direction, right? Let's walk together."
He gave a casual wave and turned ahead.
Kita hurried to catch up.
…
Nijika glanced at the dozing Ryo, then walked back to the drum set. Gripping her drumsticks, she lingered on the memory of today's performance.
At last, she sighed and looked up at the ceiling light.
"Was it just a dream…?"
As her thoughts replayed the show, her mind inevitably drifted to that boy who had stolen the spotlight—and to his antics just moments ago.
When she saw the thoughtful expression on Bocchi's face, she had understood.
He wanted her to truly think it through—not just agree on impulse.
Nijika ran her hand across the drumhead.
"Hayabusa-kun really is a good person…"
The words slipped out before she remembered Ryo was still there. She immediately turned toward her, only to see Ryo slumped against the wall, a bubble of snot swelling and shrinking with her snore.
Exasperated, Nijika snapped, "Go home and sleep already!"
"Mmm… I'll leave it to you to carry me, Nijika…"
"Unbelievable!"
…
"I'm home."
Kicking off his shoes, Ishikawa Hayabusa called into the house.
Before the sound had even faded, his mother's voice floated from the living room.
"Hayabusa, dinner's still warm."
Damn it. Making me eat alone again.
Hayabusa slid into his house slippers and headed toward the kitchen.
If Mom was in the living room, then Dad—who practically lived there—had to be there too. If both parents were in the living room, then his dumb little sister must have been banished to her room.
The thought made Hayabusa's grin widen.
Carrying his meal into the living room, he was immediately met with three pairs of eyes peeking out from the couch, all focused on him.
Surprised to see them all gathered, Hayabusa smiled and greeted, "Good evening~"
His sister, Ishikawa Hibiki, spoke without thinking as always:
"No bloodstains."
A sharp smack from their mother silenced her, leaving Hibiki clutching her head and pouting pitifully back into the couch.
Ishikawa Jinpei studied his son for a moment before speaking in a conflicted tone.
"Hayabusa, it's good to help others—but don't overdo it."
He knew full well how absurdly strong his son was. Recently, the three of them had even started timing his return.
When he was about thirty minutes late, Jinpei had said, "Guess he's swept through Shinjuku and Shinagawa by now."
An hour late, Shizuka remarked, "Tokyo must be subdued already."
An hour and a half late, Hibiki declared, "The enemy's in America?"
The moment she said it, her parents had given her matching blank stares.
…
Even Hayabusa couldn't follow his family's thought process. Stunned, he finally set his meal on the table and said,
"Didn't I tell you I had a live show today?"
A live show…
The three Ishikawas exchanged glances. In their minds, the image formed simultaneously:
Hayabusa, left hand gripping an AK, right hand wielding an AUG, standing atop a speeding sports car as bullets rained down like a symphony.
Jinpei pressed a hand to his forehead with a sigh. Shizuka silently dabbed at the corner of her eye.
Seeing their faces, Hayabusa knew words alone wouldn't clear the misunderstanding.
He pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, and showed them the video of today's performance.
Then he returned to the table, clasped his hands together, and announced, "Time to eat."
Immediately, he dug into the steaming dinner with gusto.
Meanwhile, the other three finished watching the video, exchanged another look, and Jinpei finally spoke for them:
"So… what organization did you join?"
Cough, cough!
Hayabusa nearly choked to death at the table.
…
The next day, Ishikawa Hayabusa sat inside the train.
He was heading to STARRY again. Nijika really was full of energy, always rallying everyone together.
But wasn't it normal for bandmates to meet often?
He didn't really know how it worked.
Glancing around the carriage, he spotted the same two high school girls he had seen last time.
With nothing better to do, he snapped his fingers at them with a bright grin.
The two squealed and clung to each other in excitement.
Hayabusa, of course, came to his own conclusion:
"They must've seen through to my perverted nature. That's what attracts them."
He firmly believed in the beauty of his inner self.
Once he stepped off the train, he strode quickly toward STARRY. Today, he was determined to be the first to arrive, so he could savor a hot cocoa with elegant grace while basking in the others' surprised faces.
Except—livehouses didn't open on weekend mornings. Last time, he'd only gotten in because Nijika had unlocked the door.
As he was thinking this, he noticed two figures standing still at the bottom of the STARRY stairwell.
So much for waiting elegantly.
Quickening his pace, he clapped both Nijika and Ryo on the shoulder.
"What are you standing here for?"
"Wah!" Nijika yelped, startled. Beside her, Ryo just turned her head and gave Hayabusa a glance.
And from down the stairs, Bocchi—still hesitating at the locked door—looked up in shock.