Mio-sensei's assignment had been completed.
That didn't mean that after performing Ode to Joy together, the three club presidents were suddenly overwhelmed by the power of music, collapsing into each other's arms in tears while swearing eternal harmony.
Nothing like that happened.
Music had magic, but it couldn't instantly flip a person's mind like some mystical spell.
All Hara Kei and the others had done was plant a single seed in their hearts—a seed called "cooperation." They had shown them that if they worked together, they could create even more beautiful music.
That was all.
But it was enough.
As for nurturing that seed, helping it grow and eventually bear fruit—that was now entirely Mio-sensei's responsibility. She had wandered through endless darkness for two long years. Having finally glimpsed a spark of light, she would never allow it to slip from her hands.
Hara Kei didn't entirely understand it, but it seemed to be part of the appeal of teaching. There was some old saying about it—something like "teaching and guiding others is the source of happiness."
In short, the process had been bumpy, but the result was perfect.
For Hara Kei, who believed only in outcomes, that meant everything was K.
Passing through the copse of trees and entering the valley, he saw the familiar scene: a fridge weathered by sun and rain, and a mound of discarded vehicles stacked like a miniature hill.
Looking at the place, unchanged from his memories, Hara Kei couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia.
He hadn't been here in a long time, not even for double bass practice.
No, even without the excuse of practicing, his visits would naturally grow fewer. He now had far more things in his life than he did when he first arrived in this world.
Just like a childhood secret hideout, this valley would one day exist only in Hara Kei's memory.
Feeling a quiet melancholy, he slowly stepped into the small valley.
Just then, his ears twitched at the sound of a branch snapping beneath someone's foot.
He turned to see a girl, slightly embarrassed, gazing at him as if regretting her earlier clumsiness.
Ah, right.
Just like Mio-sensei, he had a homeroom teacher here who took her duties a bit too seriously. Hara Kei sincerely hoped she would redirect that over-the-top sense of responsibility toward other students.
Speaking of which… Shizuka Hiratsuka, have you developed a bit of a stalking habit?
I let it slide the first time. If you think I'll keep letting it go forever, you're badly mistaken.
"Yo."
Hara Kei tossed a drink to Shizuka. The aluminum can spun three and a half times in the air before her slender, strong hand caught it firmly.
She didn't open it immediately, instead studying the packaging carefully. After a moment, she asked with a slightly puzzled expression:
"Where did you get this? I've never seen this brand before."
Hara Kei pointed toward the station, "There's a vending machine right next to the station. Because it's so far from the city, and transportation isn't convenient, the vendors improvise. They sometimes put in weird drinks. Every time I come here, I check if there's anything unusual."
"So…" Shizuka looked at the can in her hand, still uneasy. "This is today's…'weird drink'?"
"Bingg~! Correct, Shizuka-sensei." Hara Kei nodded approvingly. "By the way, according to my calculations, this drink has a 37% chance of being absolutely terrible, 32% chance of being unpleasant, and only a 17% chance of tasting good."
"What kind of weird statistics are those? Are you serious? What about the remaining 14%?"
"That 14% is: too sweet for me, but some people might like it, so it can't be classified as bad."
"No… just put it in the 'bad' category already…" Shizuka stared at the can, hesitated for a moment, and decided not to open it.
She remembered the last homemade drink Hara Kei had given her, but it seemed he hadn't brought one this time. Perhaps he simply wanted her to suffer a little.
After all, in his eyes, she was the one who had disrupted his quiet life.
Twisting the unknown drink in her hands, Shizuka looked at Hara Kei.
"Hara Kei, you've been working hard lately."
Hara Kei understood what she meant by "lately." It wasn't just since he started practicing the double bass—it went further back, probably to the very noon she had brought Yukinoshita Yukino to him.
Three weeks wasn't really "lately"… almost a month, in fact.
"…It's nothing." Hara Kei shook his head. Shizuka had nudged things along a little, but these were his choices, so he didn't need anyone's sympathy. His frustration toward her was minimal.
"So… how was it, being with others?" Shizuka probed, trying to see the true emotions behind his calm facade. "Yukino, Chika, and Yōko… you prefer being with these adorable girls over being alone, don't you?"
Hara Kei recalled the past three weeks and compared them with the previous month.
"I still find being alone easier." After long thought, he nodded firmly. "If I could, I'd still like to live a single, solitary life."
Shizuka could tell he was speaking honestly—no bragging, no hidden pretense. Even after experiencing things with the three girls, even forming some bond, he still felt that solitary life suited him best. That hadn't changed.
She sighed quietly to herself but didn't show it on her face. Instead, a sly smile appeared.
"Too bad… even if you want to stay alone now, it's probably not going to happen."
"…." Hara Kei had no words. The situation seemed to prove her right.
Couldn't you all just leave me alone and let me stay by myself?