[Appendix 1: Phased Psychological Intervention and Stage Performance Enhancement Training Program for Members with Social Anxiety]
[Appendix 2: Trend Forecast Report for Popular Music Genres in the Independent Music Market of Japan and Asia over the Next Three Years]
What... what is all this?!
Seika felt as if her brain had been violently bombarded by a heavy explosive.
She opened the main text with trembling hands.
Not a single wasted word.
Throughout, everything consisted of professional, rigorous terminology and precise, cold data!
It was like a "bible" written by a god of commerce, deconstructing the knowledge of Livehouse management—which in her view was filled with emotion and empiricism—into a "science" that could be quantified, predicted, and precisely controlled.
She had been running "STARRY" for so many years and thought she was already a prominent figure in this industry.
But compared to the grand and meticulous business vision displayed in this document—that god-like perspective—
Her management experience seemed as childish as children playing house.
"This... did you write this?" She looked up, staring at Seiji with the eyes of someone looking at a monster, her lips trembling slightly from shock.
"More or less." Seiji smiled, noncommittal. "You can think of it as a little 'additional exchange' I'm providing you."
"After all, you don't want 'STARRY's development to lose momentum due to lack of direction, do you?"
Additional exchange...
Seika fell silent.
She could hear the humiliating subtext behind those words.
Seika couldn't help grinding her teeth.
Seiji's approach made her feel like a "prostitute" who traded her body for anything.
She wanted to throw this document hard into Seiji's face.
But she couldn't.
For the soon-to-reopen "STARRY," this document was important!
It could help 'STARRY' truly transform.
From a small underground Livehouse that could barely maintain a balanced budget, it would soar to become a band mecca in Shimokitazawa and even all of Tokyo.
So in the end, Seika endured it.
She gritted her teeth and squeezed out a few words from between them:
"...I understand!"
With that, she turned and left without looking back.
She didn't say a word of "thank you."
There was no point saying it.
That bastard Seiji wouldn't go easy on her in bed just because she had a better attitude.
...
...
That evening, PA arrived at "STARRY" to find Seika at the bar counter, absorbed in reading a thick "planning document" by the dim light of an emergency lamp.
"Yo, Seika, still studying this late?" PA walked over and teased, "I never saw you this diligent back in school."
Seika didn't answer, only handed the planning document to her.
"Take a look at this."
PA curiously took it, and after reading just a few pages, her expression changed from casual relaxation to solemnity.
Finally, it became the same disbelief as seeing a ghost that Seika had shown during the day.
"My god..." PA felt her throat going dry. "Who gave you this kind of business plan? Fujiwara-sensei?"
"Yes." Seika nodded, her expression complex.
"...He probably wrote it too." PA's face became serious. "The plan perfectly fits 'Starry's' situation, and the execution aspects are quite suitable for your style."
"This is a plan written specifically for you and Starry."
"No one else would be this bored, so it can only be Seiji's work..."
At this point, PA looked at Seika, her expression involuntarily changing.
"He's really generous with you, Seika."
"...I also paid quite a bit." Seika turned her face away, blushing.
"Alright, alright, stop acting coy after getting a bargain." PA said helplessly.
Did Seika pay with her body?
Was that precious?
No.
Compared to this business plan and Starry's expansion, it was worthless.
The one truly getting the bargain was Seika, it's just that she couldn't get past that psychological barrier.
-
With that [Complete Band Development Planning Manual], the preparation work for the new "STARRY" seemed to be put on fast-forward.
Seika completely immersed herself in it.
Following the instructions in the planning document, she carried out sweeping reforms of the entire Livehouse's operating procedures.
First, she abolished the previous rough, instinct-based scheduling mode and introduced a complex scheduling algorithm based on band popularity, music genre, and target customer group matching.
At the same time, she established a completely new, tiered band support system.
From rookie bands just starting out, to promising talents with growing fame, to mature bands with stable fan bases—all could find comprehensive resource support at "STARRY" matching their development stage, from venues and equipment to publicity and promotion.
She was like a struggling musician who had finally received masterclass instruction from a legendary producer.
Every day, she felt her understanding of Livehouse management was skyrocketing like a rocket.
She was transforming from a traditional "manager" who relied solely on experience and intuition to a modernized "operator" with grand business vision and precise operational capabilities.
This enormous sense of achievement in her career largely diluted the humiliation she felt from being "possessed" by Seiji.
...
...
Genesis Company.
Seiji's office.
"Fujiwara-sensei..."
Seika stood before Seiji's office desk holding a performance schedule for the first month after the new store's opening, her tone still carrying a trace of stiff distance. "This is the scheduling plan for next month, please review it."
Seiji didn't reach for the document.
He leaned back in his executive chair, looking at Seika with an expression somewhere between a smile and not.
"Ichiji-san," he slowly spoke, "it seems you've forgotten the 'rules' between us again."
Seika's body suddenly stiffened.
Her cheeks began to flush slightly.
Obviously, she couldn't get Seiji's guidance without paying something.
"..."
After a few seconds of silence, Seika took a deep breath and slowly walked around the huge desk to stand behind Seiji.
Then she bent down and pressed her body against Seiji's.
Without speaking, she awkwardly, clumsily fulfilled her "obligation" as his "private property."
...
"Mm... not bad."
After some unknown amount of time,
Seiji stretched lazily, letting out a languid hum.
He picked up the schedule from the desk, flipped through it, and commented:
"Overall, no major problems."
"However, there are a few small areas that could be optimized further."
As he spoke, he pulled Seika into his lap, making her straddle him in an extremely intimate position.
"You... what are you doing?!" Seika reacted like a startled cat, instinctively wanting to struggle.
.
Wasn't it over yet?
Her chest was already sore from rubbing.
"Don't move." Seiji's voice wasn't loud, but carried an unquestionable authority. "I'm going to teach you hands-on right now."
One of his hands wandered restlessly over Seika's business suit.
Exploring wantonly along the graceful curves it outlined.
While his other hand picked up a red pen and began pointing out things on the schedule.
"Look here."
"Friday night of the third week, you scheduled a special show for 'SICKHACK'. Good idea, their popularity has indeed been very high recently."
"But you overlooked one thing."
"On the same night, next door in Shibuya, there's 'NUMBERGIRL's reunion commemorative concert."
"Their audience and 'SICKHACK's audience have over seventy percent overlap. If you schedule them on the same day, it'll just be mutually destructive."
Seika's pupils contracted sharply.
How could she have forgotten such an important matter?!
"Then... what should I do?" She instinctively asked, completely forgetting that she was currently sitting in a man's lap.
"Very simple." The corner of Seiji's mouth curved into an inscrutable arc.
"Move them to Thursday. Then spread word that 'SICKHACK's lead singer and guitarist Kikuri Hiroi is a fanatic fan of 'NUMBERGIRL's lead singer Mukai Shutoku. To be able to see her idol's performance in person, she voluntarily moved the show forward by one day."
"This way, not only can you perfectly avoid the conflict, but you can also ride 'NUMBERGIRL's popularity wave, killing two birds with one stone."
Seika's brain froze once again.
How... how did he come up with such an ingenious operational strategy?!
She looked up, staring at Seiji with shocked, admiring eyes.
"You scumbag..."
Seika murmured in a low voice.
But this time,
There was no longer any hatred in her tone, but rather admiration and worship.
"...You really are capable."
...
...
The opening performance for the new "STARRY" was set for one month later.
Under the guidance of the planning document, everything proceeded in an orderly fashion.
As the chief coordinator of this grand performance, Ijichi Seika poured all her heart and soul into it. She locked herself in the office, studying that thick planning document no fewer than twenty times from cover to cover, striving for perfection in every detail.
However, Seiji only looked at it once before tossing it back onto the desk.
"Too 'flat.'" He commented in a casual tone. "The process is perfect, the details are spot-on, but it has no 'soul.'"
"No soul?!" Seika's brow furrowed, feeling somewhat indignant.
She forcibly suppressed the impulse to argue back, her voice carrying suppressed anger: "I strictly followed the planning document, every step was carefully..."
"That's exactly it—you're just executing an 'instruction manual.'" Seiji interrupted her, looking at her face that had flushed slightly red from unwillingness. "You haven't truly understood it."
"Come on," he pulled her hand without allowing refusal, "I'm taking you to a 'practical lesson.'"
Seika was pulled along in confusion.
...
Soon.
The two returned to "STARRY."
On stage, top-tier audio equipment gleamed coldly under the lights, and the air still carried the scent of fresh lumber and leather from recent renovations.
"What do you want to do?" She looked at Seiji with confusion.
"Give you a demonstration." Seiji smiled and walked to center stage,
picking up a guitar. He didn't rush to play, but slowly spoke to the empty audience seats:
"A successful opening performance is essentially telling the audience a moving 'story.' Your plan simply lists a bunch of excellent bands together. It's spectacular, but it won't be memorable."
"And my 'story' is called—'Legacy.'"
Seiji's voice wasn't loud, but it struck Seika's heart like a bullet with precision.
"For the opening, we'll invite back those oldest bands that once performed at the old 'STARRY,' even ones that have already disbanded. Even if they only sing one of their famous songs from back then."
"This is called 'nostalgia.'"
Images of those blurred faces and faded posters instantly surfaced in Seika's mind.
"For the middle section, we'll have new generation bands take turns performing. Using their youth and vitality to ignite the whole venue."
"This is called 'hope.'"
The various currently active bands appeared clearly before Seika's eyes.
"And for the finale, we'll have representatives from both the old and new generations collaborate on stage, performing together a new song created specifically for the new 'STARRY.'"
"This is called 'legacy.'"
"Nostalgia, hope, legacy." He turned his head, looking at Seika who had already frozen in place from extreme shock. "Use three hours to tell all the audience a moving story about how 'STARRY' walks from the past toward the future, endlessly renewing itself."
"Seika, this is what's called 'soul.'"
Seika's brain went blank.
Her "perfect plan" seemed so pale before Seiji's "story" filled with epic grandeur and vivid imagery.
For the first time, she so clearly recognized the enormous gap between herself and Seiji.
It wasn't a gap in experience or ability, but in vision and perspective!
Before she could recover from her shock, Seiji's fingers lightly plucked the guitar strings in his hands.
A beautiful yet powerful melody she'd never heard before instantly resonated throughout the entire Livehouse.
It was a riff filled with the unique passion and melancholy of Japanese rock, absolutely perfect, as if condensing all the storms, dreams, and perseverance of "STARRY" over the years into these few dozen seconds.
"This is the theme song I wrote for the opening performance."
Seiji said in a flat tone, as if merely stating an insignificant trivial matter, "How about calling it 'Song of the Stars'?"
Seika was shocked once again.
She herself had been a guitarist in a band, and she knew better than anyone how terrifyingly talented in music one had to be to write such a melody that combined technical skill, artistry, and popular appeal.
And this man had just played it so casually.
She felt her pride as a musician was being mercilessly crushed bit by bit by this man.
"How about it?" After finishing one play-through, Seiji looked at her and asked, "Can you keep up?"
"I..." Seika's throat felt dry, and she was at a loss for words.
"Can't keep up? That's fine." Seiji smiled and set down the guitar, walking toward her step by step. "Then we'll switch to a method that's easier for you to 'understand.'"
He walked before her and scooped her up in his arms, then strode toward the rest room behind the stage.
"You... let me go! This place... this is 'STARRY'!"
It wasn't until she was thrown onto the soft sofa that Seika finally reacted and began to struggle fiercely.
In the office, in his apartment, she could endure it.
But here...
In this place she regarded as her dream, she couldn't allow this man to defile it!
"I know this is 'STARRY.'" Seiji pressed down on her. "That's exactly why I want to make you leave a deep 'memory' here."
"I don't want those damn memories!!" Seika's face flushed red.
"You have to!"
Seiji lowered his head, leaning close to her ear to whisper, "I'm going to use your body right now to personally teach you what it means to 'harmonize together.'"
His hands moved with practiced efficiency, unbuttoning her blouse and pushing up her skirt. Seika's breath hitched as cool air hit her exposed skin.
"No... not here..." she protested weakly, even as her body betrayed her—nipples already stiffening beneath her bra, a telltale wetness beginning to soak through her panties.
Seiji pulled aside the damp fabric, his fingers sliding through her slick folds. "Your body's much more honest than your mouth, Seika. You're already dripping wet."
"That's... that's not..." Her denial died in her throat as two fingers pushed inside her pussy, stretching her open.
He worked her with deliberate strokes, thumb circling her clit while his fingers curved to hit that spot inside that made her thighs tremble. All while his other hand freed his cock from his pants—thick, hard, the head already glistening.
"The first verse needs to use sixteenth-note kick drums to build emotional foundation..." He positioned himself between her trembling thighs, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance. "Just like this..."
With one smooth thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside her tight heat.
"Ah...!" Seika's back arched off the sofa, her pussy clenching involuntarily around his thick shaft. "Too deep...!"
"Can you feel this frequency?" Seiji began moving with deliberate rhythm, each thrust measured and deep. His cock dragged against her inner walls, hitting spots that made sparks explode behind her eyelids.
One hand gripped her hip for leverage while the other yanked down her bra, exposing her breasts. He leaned down to capture a nipple between his teeth, biting just hard enough to make her cry out.
"The second verse builds on the foundation..." His pace increased, the wet sounds of their coupling obscenely loud in the small room. "Feel how the rhythm changes? How each beat drives deeper?"
"Ah... ah... Seiji...!" Seika gasped, her hands clutching desperately at his shoulders. Every thrust sent waves of unwanted pleasure radiating through her core.
"That's it. Your body understands perfectly." He released her nipple with a wet pop, watching it glisten. "Even if your mind fights it, your pussy is gripping my cock like it never wants to let go."
Her face burned with humiliation—because he was right. Despite everything, despite where they were, her traitorous body was responding eagerly. She could feel herself getting wetter, her inner walls fluttering around him with each stroke.
"Now pay attention..." His fingers found her clit again, rubbing in tight circles. "This is the pre-chorus. Building tension..."
The dual stimulation was overwhelming. His cock pounding into her pussy, thick and relentless, while his skilled fingers worked her clit with maddening precision.
"Seiji... I can't... I'm going to..." Her hips began moving on their own, meeting his thrusts.
"Not yet." He slowed his movements, pulling almost completely out before slamming back in. The sudden change in rhythm made her whimper. "We haven't reached the chorus yet."
...
"For the chorus section, the snare drum needs heavier backbeats..." His thrusts became more forceful, each one driving deep enough to make her see stars. "That's it... follow my movements... lift your hips..."
Seika obeyed mindlessly, angling her pelvis to take him deeper. The new angle made the thick head of his cock kiss her cervix with each stroke, sending shocks of pleasure-pain straight to her brain.
"Harder... oh god, harder...!" The words left her mouth before she could stop them, shame and need warring in her chest.
"Good girl. Finally being honest." Seiji grinned, increasing his pace. The sofa creaked beneath them as he fucked her with abandon, his cock stretching her pussy deliciously with every thrust.
"Before entering the bridge, we need a brief rest to build tension..." He changed rhythm again, slow and deep, grinding against her clit with each roll of his hips. "Feel how the anticipation builds?"
Seika was beyond coherent thought. Her usual cold demeanor had completely shattered, replaced by desperate need. "Please... please don't tease me..."
"And then, at the climax..." His thumb pressed hard against her clit while he resumed pounding into her. "Explode...!"
The combination was too much. Seika's orgasm hit like a freight train, her whole body going rigid as waves of intense pleasure crashed through her. Her pussy clamped down on his cock, inner muscles spasming rhythmically.
"That's it, come on my cock. Let me feel you." Seiji thrust through her climax, prolonging it until she was sobbing from overstimulation.
Just as the first orgasm began to fade, he shifted his angle slightly—and hit a spot inside her that made her vision white out.
"No... too much... I just came..." Seika tried to protest, but her body was already climbing toward another peak.
"Your pussy is still gripping me so tight. It wants more." He pistoned into her, cock driving deep, balls slapping against her ass with each thrust. "Come again. I want to feel you fall apart."
It took less than a dozen strokes before she was coming again, this time even harder. Her scream echoed off the walls of the rest room, her nails raking down his back hard enough to leave marks.
Seiji buried himself to the hilt with a low groan, his cock pulsing as he filled her pussy with thick spurts of cum. The sensation of being filled sent aftershocks through Seika's trembling body.
Seika's consciousness had long been washed completely blank.
Her rationality screamed in protest somewhere distant, yet her body shamefully reveled in every sensation—the stretch of being thoroughly fucked, the warmth of his cum leaking from her well-used pussy, the weight of him pressing her into the sofa.
The cold, hard shell she wore daily had been completely shattered.
The softness and allure hidden in her deepest depths—tender as a ripe peach—now displayed itself without reservation before Seiji.
Seika no longer cursed or struggled.
She simply wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, releasing pitiful moans mixed with tears—sounds that seemed both pleading for mercy and craving more.