Deep into the night, when Kikuri finally fell into heavy sleep, Seiji held her warm, soft body, his mind perfectly clear.
He knew Kikuri had agreed so readily not just because of her "for her friend's good" logic, but more importantly—her heart now belonged completely to him.
He murmured silently, calling up the system.
[Ding! Detected that capture target 'Kikuri Hiroi' has reached Stage 3 'Complete Devotion'!]
[Now issuing stage reward—Permanent Ability: Thousand Cups Without Getting Drunk!]
[Issuing bonus reward—Permanent Ability: Wine Connoisseur!]
With Kikuri handled, Seiji turned his attention to his final target—PA-san.
He spent some money and easily tracked down PA-san's gaming streamer account.
The following evening, Seiji created an alt account and entered PA's stream.
On screen, there was no face—just the game Delta Force gameplay.
A voice that sounded cool yet carried a hint of laziness was bantering with viewers.
"Ah... died again. Damn, where is that sniper even hiding?"
"LOL streamer daily feed (1/1)"
"So bad it's real, unfollowed."
PA-san's gaming skills were indeed pretty rough.
The stream's popularity wasn't high as a result, with more roasts than praise from viewers—but the core audience was very loyal.
Occasionally, PA would invite a female friend she knew online to party up.
The two would chat while gaming.
"Hey hey, you're way too bad at this? The two of us together can't even figure out how to walk." PA-san complained.
"Come on, don't sweat the details! We're here for the vibes! Right, everyone?" The female friend's voice sounded energetic, carrying that characteristic youthful spark.
Though their banter was entertaining, their "matching pair of disasters" gaming skills still drew increasingly loud roasts from the chat.
Seiji watched the whole night, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
He'd figured out his approach.
After the stream ended, PA-san and her female friend chatted on LINE.
[Paloer]: Sigh, the viewers were as picky as ever today.
[Kaka-chan]: It's fine, it's fine—they're just talking trash. By the way, senpai, that new merch shop in Shimokitazawa you mentioned—do they really have Spitz limited edition posters?
PA-san looked at the message and smiled helplessly.
She didn't know this female friend's real identity—only that she was a wealthy high school girl with intense interest in bands and live performances.
And the other girl only knew PA-san as someone in Tokyo's underground performance scene, privy to lots of inside info and gossip.
She'd use "streaming together" as exchange for PA-san sharing band-related intel.
This purely online relationship felt comfortable for both of them.
[Paloer]: They do, but they're hard to get. I'll keep an eye out for you.
They chatted for half an hour before saying goodnight.
Meanwhile, in another high-end apartment in Tokyo, an energetic, cute girl with long black hair was excitedly scrolling through their chat history.
She was the female friend who'd just been chatting with PA-san—Subaru Awa.
"Spitz limited edition poster... I want it so bad!" She murmured to herself, but then glanced at the acting textbooks piled on her desk and sighed. "No, I can't let Grandma down..."
Shaking her head, Subaru Awa closed her computer and reopened her textbooks.
Her grandmother was a legendary actress in Japanese entertainment, a household name for decades—Tendo Awa.
But unfortunately, neither of her parents had any interest in acting.
To console her grandmother, young Subaru had claimed she loved acting—which had made her grandmother overjoyed, paving all sorts of paths for her.
But Subaru Awa actually preferred bands more.
Yet at this point, she couldn't bring herself to tell her grandmother she didn't like acting after all.
Subaru Awa sighed quietly, her mind drifting to her new neighbor who'd moved into the upstairs apartment two months ago—SICKHACK's vocalist and bassist, Kikuri Hiroi.
She recognized her.
After all, Kikuri was famous for her drunkenness. In Tokyo's underground scene, practically everyone had heard of her.
Some loved her, some hated her.
Subaru Awa fell into the hating camp.
She didn't like alcoholics, so after one obligatory courtesy visit, she'd never interacted with Kikuri again.
Seiji had been in Tokyo for a week now.
A week of making no extra moves, which gradually relaxed the "Boundary Alliance" trio.
They met privately once more to share their situations.
"He's been coming to STARRY lately, but only for business—no boundary-crossing at all." Seika held her coffee, her face showing a trace of relief, her tone noticeably lighter. "Looks like our approach is working."
"Same here," Eliza nodded in agreement, her tension from recent days finally easing. "Besides work arrangements for the band, and running into him a few times in public, he's been very gentlemanly—no harassment."
"My life's the same as before," PA-san added. "Our relationship is still just 'friends with benefits'—nothing more."
The three shared their situations, finding that Seiji seemed to have genuinely been held off by their "resistance"—no opportunity to make a move.
Confidence swelled within them.
Feeling pleased, they even shared some of their experiences in the larger group (without Seiji), teaching others their "strict defense" success strategies.
[Seika]: Listen everyone, as long as you stay firm and hold your boundaries, Seiji can't do anything!
[Eliza]: That's right! Never give him any chance for private contact!
In the group, Utaha and Eriri—still in Kyoto—breathed sighs of relief at these messages.
[Utaha]: I see... looks like we were too nervous before.
[Eriri]: Mm! We should learn from them! From now on, we absolutely won't let that pervert touch us again—unless he gives up on that deep development idea!
Megumi, also in the group, watched these messages and could only sigh quietly to herself.
She knew Seiji's methods all too well. This was merely the patient preparation before the hunt.
The moment they relaxed their guard—that's when trouble would strike.
Megumi mentally mourned for them for three seconds, then casually dropped a smiley emoji and said nothing more.
[Nijika]: Sis, and PA-san, and Eliza—you guys are way too nervous!
Nijika thought they were making a mountain out of a molehill.
Ryo Yamada's reaction was subdued, but privately, she immediately messaged Seiji.
[Ryo]: Why are you moving so slow? Seika and the others think they've won—they're throwing a victory party in the group.
Seiji looked at the complaint from Ryo Yamada on his phone screen and smiled.
He replied slowly:
[Seiji]: Don't worry. The real show is about to begin.
STARRY Livehouse.
A special weekend performance had just concluded.
Backstage, Seika was directing staff through the post-show cleanup.
Just then, Megumi walked in carrying a stack of documents.
"Manager Ijichi, thank you for your hard work." She smiled, her voice soft and polite. "President Fujiwara says that to reward everyone's hard work tonight, he's reserved the best izakaya nearby—please make sure everyone attends."
"Oh? That guy's being this generous?" Seika was somewhat surprised, but nodded. "Got it, I'll pass it along."
Megumi continued: "Also, regarding our collaborative band support program, there are some details about the merchandise design I need to follow up on. Nijika-san, could you come with me to the Genesis partner workshop now? They just finished a batch of new samples that need your personal confirmation."
"Really?"
Nijika, who'd been organizing instruments, looked up at the news, surprised delight crossing her face. "Our new merch is ready?"
"Yes, and I apologize for the late hour. But the samples need to go to print first thing tomorrow, so timing is tight." Megumi's face showed just the right amount of apology—impossible to refuse.
"Sis?" Nijika instinctively looked at Seika, eyes full of anticipation.
Seika, noticing nothing amiss, smiled and nodded: "Go ahead, Nijika."
"Great! Thanks!" Nijika immediately agreed excitedly, flashing a sweet smile at Megumi. "Then I'll trouble you, Megumi-san!"
Ryo, watching from the sidelines, had a knowing glint in her eyes.
Next, Megumi smiled at the other staff members: "President Fujiwara has also prepared special bonus red packets for everyone, already at Finance. Could you all head over to collect them now—don't keep the finance team waiting."
The employees stirred with excitement at this.
"Really? That's amazing!"
"Long live the President! I knew following Fujiwara-san meant good things!"
Hands that had been lazily tidying up suddenly moved with purpose. In twos and threes, they headed out, faces beaming with anticipation of their bonuses.
Ryo casually shouldered her bass case, waved at Seika, and strolled off on her own.
In the blink of an eye, the once-bustling backstage held only Seika.
Seika suddenly realized something was wrong.
Wait!
How did I suddenly end up alone?
Seika instinctively tried to leave, but discovered that the loading door now had an additional figure.
Seiji leaned against the doorframe, smiling as he watched her: "Going somewhere, Seika?"
"Seiji Fujiwara!?"
Seika's heart clenched. She stumbled backward, voice shaking: "This... this is STARRY! It's a public place! Don't you dare try anything!"
"But everyone's gone." Seiji smiled, walking steadily toward her.
"You... what do you want!?" Seika's face was full of fear.
Seiji didn't answer. He simply walked straight to her, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her all the way to the empty stage, stopping before a black grand piano.
"Let go of me! Bastard!" Seika was both furious and ashamed.
But the next moment, Seiji pressed her down onto the piano. Her back met the keys with a discordant jangle.
Then, under Seika's terrified gaze, he flipped up her skirt and yanked it over her head, twisting the fabric to blindfold her.
Darkness. Her breath came fast and shallow, every nerve screaming. She felt him hook his fingers into her panties and drag them down her thighs, past her knees, off one ankle. The cool air of the empty livehouse hit her exposed cunt.
She was wet. Already wet. Her body had betrayed her before he'd even touched her there.
His palm pressed flat against her mound. She jerked, back arching off the piano keys—another discordant clash of notes.
Two fingers slid inside without warning.
Seika's mouth fell open. No sound came out. Just a silent scream as he curled them, finding the spot that made her thighs clamp together involuntarily.
He spread her legs apart with his knee. Held them open. Pumped his fingers in a slow, deliberate rhythm while his thumb found her clit and circled.
On her sister's stage. On Nijika's piano. Being fingered by this man she was supposed to be resisting.
The shame should have killed the pleasure. Instead it fed it. Every time she thought about where she was—the stage lights still on, the empty seats where audiences sat, the instrument her sister played—her pussy clenched tighter around his fingers.
He added a third. Stretched her. She was dripping now, slick sounds filling the silence between her ragged breaths.
She came the first time without warning. Her whole body seized, hips bucking against his hand, inner walls spasming. She bit down on her lip hard enough to taste blood, muffling the moan that tried to escape.
He didn't stop.
Kept fingering her through the aftershocks, pushing her toward a second peak before the first had even faded. Overstimulation turned pleasure into something sharper, more desperate.
She heard his belt unbuckle. The rustle of fabric.
Then the blunt head of his cock pressed against her entrance.
He thrust in with one smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Seika's back bowed, keys jangling beneath her. He was big—bigger than the fingers that had stretched her—and the sudden fullness knocked the breath from her lungs.
He fucked her on the piano. Hard. Each thrust jolted her body, made the keys sing their broken melody. Her tits bounced under her disheveled blouse. Her hands scrabbled for purchase on the glossy black surface and found none.
She came again. And again. Lost count. Her mind went white and blank, awareness narrowing to nothing but the cock splitting her open and the obscene wet sounds of their fucking echoing through the empty venue.
When he finally came inside her—hot and pulsing, filling her up—Seika shattered completely.
He pulled out. Removed the skirt from her eyes.
Seika lay sprawled across the piano, legs still spread, cum leaking from her swollen cunt onto the keys. Her chest heaved. Her eyes were glazed, unfocused. She had no strength left—a broken doll draped over her sister's instrument.
"Now tell me," Seiji's voice came from above, calm and cold, "who else is in your little 'resistance' group?"
Seika's body shuddered.
Guilt for betraying her allies welled up, but she no longer had any will to defy him.
Seiji's commands seemed carved into her very marrow.
"There's Eliza and PA..." Seika answered softly, simultaneously pulling out her phone to show him the LINE group called "Shimokitazawa Resistance Front."
Seiji glanced at the group members and chuckled softly.
"Reply to them. Tell them everything's fine—I just wanted to discuss upcoming performance schedules."
Seika knew his intention. Biting her lip, she mentally apologized to Eliza and PA-san.
Then, with still-trembling fingers, she typed out a message in the group.
[Seika]: All clear today too. He stopped by, but just to talk about next month's performance schedule.
Seeing Seika's message in their three-person group, Eliza and PA-san—elsewhere—assumed everything was fine.
[Eliza]: Same here, all good on my end.
[PA-san]: Me too.