Several Days Later
April 21, 2021 – Wednesday – 3:00 P.M.
Live House CiRCLE – Riku's Office
Riku's POV
It had been a week since I laid my cards on the table—showing the girls my career as a pro musician, my history with OG, and offering Roselia the opportunity for their first live at CiRCLE. Since then, my office had practically become their second home. Almost every day, one of them—sometimes all of them—dropped by to ask for advice on music, stage presence, or just small details they were anxious about. I didn't turn them away. Even with my own schedule stacked high, something about their drive made me want to carve out time.
Now, all five of them were crammed into my office alongside Yukina, the air heavy with purpose as we hashed out the details of their first live. The most pressing issue was the date.
Yukina-san spoke first, voice calm yet firm, "I think we should hold our live on the 15th of May."
I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed. "I'd prefer the 25th."
Lisa-san frowned, tilting her head. "Isn't that a bit too long?"
Her tone wasn't confrontational, just curious. Still, I could feel all their eyes on me, waiting for my reasoning.
"For you girls, maybe it feels like forever," I replied evenly. "But from a professional standpoint, the 25th is a safer choice. It gives us more breathing room. Time for adjustments if anything goes wrong, or even space to create a new song you might want to debut. Fifteen days is enough for amateurs. Ten extra days is the difference between being ready and being unforgettable."
They still didn't look convinced, so I added another card to the table.
"Remember what I told you about the PBC?"
The five of them nodded, expressions cautious.
"Well," I continued, "I managed to call a friend of mine. By coincidence, he'll be vacationing here around that time. I told him the details, and he agreed to come on the 25th."
Yukina-san's eyes narrowed slightly. "And who exactly is this person?"
I smirked. "You can call him 'Dendi.' A good friend of mine, and a damn great guitarist."
Sayo-san raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Who is this 'Dendi'?"
"A former guitarist for Natus Vincere—or Na'Vi. He was part of the team that won the very first International Championship. Just like me, he reached the TI finals three times in a row. They placed second in TI 2 and 3."
The room fell into stunned silence. Even Ako-chan stopped fidgeting with her phone, her mouth hanging open. They understood instantly—if someone of that caliber was going to watch their live, failure wasn't an option.
I noticed Yukina-san stiffening under the weight of that pressure, so I leaned forward, softening my tone.
"Relax. Dendi isn't harsh. He's actually one of the most laid-back guys I know—funny, too. You won't be under a microscope. As long as you play with your usual passion and enjoy yourselves, you'll be fine. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he jumped on stage with you. He tends to do that when a band impresses him."
Sayo-san blinked. "He just... gets up and joins?"
"Yeah," I said with a chuckle. "But only with bands he thinks have the talent to hit the big leagues. If he does that during your live, it means you've won his approval. That's no small thing."
I could see their shoulders gradually easing, my words sinking in. Yukina-san was the first to find her voice.
"Very well. We'll hold our live on May 25th. As you said, Riku-san, we need all the practice we can get."
The others nodded, determination sharpening their expressions. That settled the date.
The next topic: fliers and tickets.
"Now then," I said, tapping the desk. "Who's in charge of the design?"
Lisa-san raised her hand, sheepish, before flashing me her phone. "Here. These are what we came up with."
I took one look and nodded. "Impressive. These are well put together... right, Rinko?"
Both Lisa-san and Rinko flinched.
Lisa-san sputtered, "Wait—how did you know Rinko made them?"
I shrugged. "It's obvious. She's the only one among you who would create designs with this kind of detail. Subtle, refined, and atmospheric. It has her fingerprints all over it."
Rinko ducked her head, blushing furiously. Lisa-san gave me a look somewhere between exasperated and impressed.
"Anyway," I said, handing the phone back, "send them to me. I'll have Hatate handle the printing. Tickets and fliers should be ready by the end of the day."
Lisa-san quickly forwarded the files, and within minutes Hatate confirmed. Smooth.
"With that settled, let's move on to distribution."
The air shifted. Everyone straightened, bracing themselves. This was where things got real.
"As for distribution, CiRCLE will take forty percent of the earnings."
Their faces froze in shock. Before they could protest, I lifted a hand.
"Listen. The reason is simple: Roselia is now an official member of CiRCLE."
Sayo-san's voice rose, indignant. "Since when did we become part of CiRCLE?"
"You don't remember?" I asked, arching an eyebrow. "To use the studios and equipment here at low cost, you signed a membership. That makes Roselia a registered member band. If I recall correctly, Rinko handled the paperwork last week."
Sayo-san's cheeks turned crimson as the memory clicked. The others—except Yukina-san—burst into quiet chuckles, and even Rinko gave a nervous smile.
"As an official member," I went on, "you gain certain benefits. For example, instead of the usual fifty-fifty split, you'll get sixty percent of the earnings from your lives here. That's already better than most venues would offer. As long as you surpass the minimum ticket quota, you'll be fine."
Ako-chan perked up. "Wait, so there are more benefits?"
I nodded. "Plenty. Prioritized bookings. Flexibility to cancel or reschedule with minimal hassle, as long as there's an agreement. Discounts on venue rentals and instruments. And if you need your gear transported after a live, CiRCLE covers it—free of charge."
Lisa-san whistled. "That's... a lot more than I expected. Guess we don't have much to worry about, huh, Yukina?"
Yukina-san gave a slow nod, still composed. "Yes. But let's not lose focus. There's still one matter left."
"Exactly," I said. "The most important part: guest bands. Do you already have groups in mind?"
Yukina-san nodded. "We managed to negotiate with some bands. They agreed to perform."
"Good," I said, rising from my chair. "Just make sure they're the right ones. Remember, Dendi will be watching—and I wouldn't put it past him to bring friends."
That reminder lingered in the air as I checked the clock. Nearly 4 P.M. I stretched, the chair groaning as I stood.
"Well, with everything planned, it's about time I show you the stage where you'll be performing."
Ako-chan's eyes widened, practically glowing. "Really!? You'll show us!?"
Her excitement was contagious. I grinned. "Of course. In fact, you'll be the very first band to see it. CiRCLE built this stage with groups like yours in mind. Come on—follow me."
I opened the office door, and one by one they filed out, their anticipation buzzing in the air like static. The sound of their footsteps echoed down the hall as we made our way to the heart of CiRCLE, toward the stage that would soon become the proving ground for Roselia's future.
As we descended the staircase toward the heavy steel door at the far end of the corridor, I caught Sayo-san glancing at it with a faint frown.
"From what I remember," she said, her tone carefully measured, "this door is locked. Toyama-san and Tsurumaki-san tried using their passes before, but it didn't open."
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I pulled my phone from my pocket and pressed it against the scanner beside the door. A brief silence followed, then a sharp beep sounded, the green light blinking once as the lock clicked open.
"Now then," I said evenly, pushing the door wide, "take a good look at where you'll perform."
The hinges creaked softly as the space revealed itself. Roselia's members stepped inside one by one, their eyes widening the moment they caught sight of the room.
It wasn't merely a stage—it was a statement.
The hall stretched wider than they had expected, easily large enough to accommodate five hundred people at full capacity. Rows of lighting rigs hung overhead, polished metal gleaming against the shadows. The speakers and amplifiers were all state-of-the-art, freshly installed. The faint scent of varnish and electrical wiring still lingered, as if the space itself was impatient to be used.
Ako-chan gasped first, voice bouncing against the walls. "Ohhhhh! It's so big!!"
Rinko's voice followed, soft but uncertain. "I-Isn't this... a bit too big?"
I glanced at her and shook my head. "For some, yes. But I went out of my way to make it larger. This stage is meant to carry more than sound—it's meant to carry ambition. It reminds me of my own days as a pro."
While I spoke to Rinko, the others drifted further in, exploring every corner. On the far wall, Lisa-san suddenly stopped, her gaze snagging on something.
"Wait, what are these?" she murmured, stepping closer.
On the left and right corners of the hall, four flags were mounted on each side. Their bold insignias caught the overhead lights, familiar to anyone who knew the history of professional music. They weren't random decorations—they were the crests of past International champions, the ones who carved their names into history.
Yukina-san turned back toward me, her usual composure showing cracks of genuine curiosity. "Riku-san, how many people can actually fit here?"
I folded my arms, running the calculation aloud. "At minimum, around three hundred comfortably. If it's packed to the brim... five hundred fifty, maybe more."
Every pair of eyes shot toward me.
Sayo-san blinked, her voice trembling slightly. "T-That many?"
Lisa-san exhaled, her brows furrowing. "I don't know if my connections alone will be enough..."
I raised a hand calmly. "That's one thing you don't need to worry about. Aya will handle it."
The name clearly caught them off guard.
Yukina-san tilted her head. "Aya? You mean Maruyama-san?"
I smirked faintly. "Not that Aya."
Confusion spread across their faces. Rinko, ever the timid one, asked cautiously, "If it's not Maruyama-san, then... who?"
I checked my watch. Perfect timing.
"Three... two... one."
BLAM!
The door behind us slammed open with a force that echoed like thunder. All five girls jumped at the sound.
A girl strode in, her presence filling the space before words even left her mouth. Semi-long black hair framed her face, crimson eyes glinting like embers. She wore a crisp white blouse tucked into a short black skirt, and atop her head sat a small tokin hat, like something out of another world.
"ORE! SANJOU!!" she announced at full volume, striking a pose.
I rubbed my temple, sighing under my breath. "You're late, Aya."
She grinned, utterly unbothered. "Come on, boss, don't be like that! You know I always come in clutch."
Lisa-san leaned close to me, eyes narrowing. "Riku... is she the Aya you meant?"
I gave a slow nod. "Aya, introduce yourself."
"Roger!" She snapped into a playful salute. "Pleasure to meet you all! I am Shameimaru Aya—staff at CiRCLE and your one-stop powerhouse for live house social media across every platform. You can call me Ayaya if you like. And you five must be Roselia, right?"
Yukina-san stepped forward, ever the dignified leader. "That's correct. I am Minato Yukina, Roselia's vocalist. It's a pleasure to meet you."
The others followed her lead.
"Hikawa Sayo," Sayo-san said, voice firm. "Guitarist."
Lisa-san beamed warmly. "Imai Lisa, bassist. Nice to meet you, Ayaya~."
Ako-chan practically bounced in place. "Udagawa Ako, drummer!"
Rinko spoke last, her voice quiet but steady. "S-Shirokane Rinko... Roselia's keyboardist."
Aya's crimson gaze softened when it landed on Rinko. She leaned closer to me and whispered behind her hand. "Boss... is she the Rinko you mentioned before?"
I only gave a silent nod. Aya's grin widened knowingly.
Turning back to the group, I gestured toward Lisa-san. "Lisa-san, Aya will support you with advertising the live. If you need anything involving social media promotion, she's the one to rely on."
Lisa-san's relief was almost immediate. "That's great. I look forward to working with you, Ayaya."
Aya winked. "Ayaya. Same here, Lisa-chan. We'll make sure your live reaches every corner of the net."
Then she turned back toward me, expression shifting slightly. "By the way, boss, you've got a package waiting at the front desk."
My brow furrowed. "A package? From who?"
"I might've taken a peek," Aya admitted with a mischievous smile. "Looks like it's from Yukari."
The name alone sent a cold shiver crawling down my spine. For a brief moment, memories stirred—echoes I didn't want to unpack right there.
Rinko noticed my change immediately, her brows knitting in worry as she stepped closer. "Riku... are you okay?"
I forced a small smile. "I'm fine, Rinko. Don't worry. Anyway, I think we've covered everything here. Let's call it a day."
Yukina-san nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Agreed. We've accomplished much."
Lisa-san lingered with Aya a moment longer, discussing some initial strategies for online promotion, while the others gradually made their way back toward the stairwell.
When we finally reached the lobby upstairs, the object in question sat waiting: a long, rectangular black box, nearly the length of the counter itself. A neatly folded note was taped to the top.
I peeled it off and read silently:
"This is the payment I promised you a few weeks ago. Hopefully you can put it to good use. I'll call you again if I need something that requires your help.
—Yukari"
I folded the note, sliding it into my pocket. "Hmm. So that's what Yukari-san meant."
Rinko tilted her head, still concerned. "Umm... Riku, who exactly is Yukari-san?"
I exhaled, the weight of history pressing against the question. "Yukari-san was a friend of my father when he was still alive. From time to time, she would ask my family for assistance. In return, she always provided... compensation."
Lisa-san tapped the edge of the box with one finger. "So what did she send you this time?"
I shrugged. "I don't know yet. I'll figure it out once I get home. For now..."
I snapped my fingers.
In an instant, two tall men in suits appeared, as if the shadows themselves had delivered them. Their presence drew startled gasps from Roselia, though I remained calm.
"Take this to my room," I instructed, pointing at the box. "Handle it carefully. If my grandfather, Youmu, or Ayabe ask about it, tell them it came from Yukari-san."
One of the suited men bowed. "It shall be done, Riku-sama."
Without another word, they hoisted the heavy case and disappeared through the exit, their movements swift and professional.
The girls exchanged glances, a mix of awe and bewilderment etched into their faces. They were still adjusting to the world I straddled—the intersection of music, legacy, and obligations that extended far beyond the stage.
After securing an advanced reservation for one of CiRCLE's studios, Roselia finally departed, their footsteps echoing down the hall. The building grew quiet once more
Just as I was about to leave the front desk, the door swung open with the soft jingle of the bell. Chisato stepped inside, her bass slung across her back. The weight of the instrument seemed heavier than usual, judging by the subtle droop in her shoulders.
"Chisato," I said, a little surprised. "What brings you here?"
She smiled faintly, polite as always. "Well, Pastel*Palettes wants to make a reservation for Saturday this week."
She could've just called me if that was all. The fact that she came all the way here with her bass strapped on meant something else was going on. I raised a brow.
"I can do that," I replied, scribbling the note for the schedule. "But that's not the reason you're here, right?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment she looked away, caught between pride and honesty. Finally, she sighed. "I really can't hide anything from you... actually... I need your help with something."
There it was.
"Alright," I said, setting my pen down. "Go to Studio 3 without me for now. Let me finish things here first. You can practice your bass while you wait."
She nodded quietly and made her way toward the studio. I watched her go, the faint sound of her steps echoing down the hallway. She wasn't her usual composed self. Something was eating at her.
I finished arranging Pastel*Palettes' reservation and then followed her to Studio 3.
Live House CiRCLE – Studio 3
The moment I pushed the door open, the low rumble of her bass filled the air. Chisato was sitting on a stool, fingers plucking the strings in a steady rhythm, but the sound was off. It lacked the usual precision and clarity that she was known for. It was muddled, laced with a frustration she was trying to cover up.
She noticed me enter and stopped immediately, setting her bass carefully on the stand beside her. Without a word, she sank into a chair, her eyes dropping to the floor.
I crossed the room and pulled out a chair to sit across from her. My voice was firm when I spoke.
"Alright, be honest with me, Chisato. Are you okay?"
She kept her gaze fixed downward, lips parting just enough to murmur, "I'm good, Riku..."
"No, you're not." My tone cut sharper than I intended. "I can tell something's wrong. It was obvious the moment I heard you play. You sounded... frustrated. Nothing like the confidence you had last week. Just tell me what's going on. I'm your brother, remember?"
Her silence stretched. Finally, she sighed in defeat.
"I really can't hide things from you, onii-sama," she admitted, her voice softer, more hesitant than usual. "Aya-chan suggested that we do Yura Yura Ring Dong Dance, and she's been so insistent. She wants us to perform it no matter what. And... I don't want to. For reasons I'd rather not say. Aya-chan's been pushing, and I've been dodging the subject, suggesting other songs, but... you know Aya-chan."
"Apart from her low self-esteem," I said, "she's stubborn as hell once she sets her heart on something. A hard worker, even for an amateur idol."
Chisato gave a halfhearted chuckle. "Exactly. And because I keep brushing it off, Aya-chan's starting to think I don't want to perform it with her. She believes she's the one not good enough. But the truth is..."
Her voice faltered.
I leaned forward. "It's not Aya-san who lacks the skill, is it? It's you."
She froze, then gave a small nod. "That's right. I want to perform this song for Aya-chan—badly—but I can't. Not right now."
I pushed back from my chair, standing with frustration. "Then why hide it from Aya-san and the others? If it's a matter of skill, that's something you can work out together! You're in a band, Chisato. You're supposed to rely on each other, not bottle everything up!"
Her silence lingered heavy in the room. The way her shoulders slumped told me I'd hit the mark.
"When you've been in the spotlight for so long," she whispered at last, "people start believing you can perform under any circumstance. They don't see how much effort goes into it. They don't see the cracks. They just expect results."
Hearing her say that, I couldn't help but smile faintly. "I think I get it now. Guess both of us are alike."
Her head shot up, startled. "Alike? What do you mean?"
I eased back into my seat. "You've set the bar so high for yourself, haven't you? And it's not just your own expectations. It's everyone else's too. Always expecting more, always pushing higher."
"That's... exactly it." She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "But how are we alike?"
I hesitated, then exhaled. "Remember the reason I told everyone I stepped down from OG?"
She nodded.
"That was only half the truth."
Her eyes widened. "You mean... you lied? You told them it was because of your duties to the family!"
I shook my head. "Not a lie. Just not the whole story. My duty to return by eighteen was real. But the deeper reason... was that I was tired."
She blinked. "Tired?"
"Tired of expectations," I said simply. "Every win raised the bar higher. After we won TI9—back-to-back, no less—the pressure was insane. People expected us to deliver that level every time. No one cared about the grind behind it. And when Johan damaged his voice and I stepped up as vocalist, that bar climbed even higher. They wanted more, always more.
"We knew that if we kept going, we'd burn out completely. Jesse, Ceb, all of us. So we decided: retire after TI10. Walk away while we still had something left."
Chisato stared at me, shock softening into quiet understanding.
"Jesse went back to college to finish his degree. Topias pursued culinary school—his other dream. Ceb returned home to prepare for marriage. Johan focused on managing OG. And me? I came back here."
Her voice quivered. "But... why tell me all this?"
"Because I don't want the same thing happening to you." My tone grew firm again. "You're already feeling the pressure. You're worried about Aya-san's expectations, about being seen as flawless. If you keep swallowing it all, it'll eat you alive. Just like it almost did me."
She looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. "So what do I do, onii-sama?"
"You tell them," I said simply. "Tell Aya-san and the others what you're really feeling. Trust them enough to carry that weight with you. You don't have to do this alone."
"But... I don't want to waste their time just for my sake."
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "So you'd rather suffer in silence? Brilliant plan."
She gave a weak laugh. "...Yeah."
I leaned forward, placing both hands gently on her shoulders. "Chisato. Look at me. Asking for help is not a waste of anyone's time. You're not perfect. None of us are. Everyone has blind spots, weaknesses. Even Hina-san, with her perfect first tries, has flaws. And Aya-san, and the rest of them—they're not expecting you to be invincible. They're your bandmates, your friends. They trust you. Let them prove it."
Her eyes wavered. "But... what if they see me differently once they know I have flaws?"
"They won't reject you," I said firmly. "If anything, they'll stand closer. Because you've always been there for them, haven't you? You've carried them more times than you can count. Let them return the favor."
The fight in her eyes softened. She swallowed hard, her shoulders trembling slightly under my grip.
"I... I'll try," she whispered. "I'll keep it in mind, onii-sama."
I let out a small breath, giving her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. For once, she wasn't the composed, untouchable idol. She was just my little sister, vulnerable and human. And I wasn't going to let her face this storm alone.
"Now," I said, leaning back in my chair, "with that out of the way... let's talk about your problems with the song you were telling me."
Chisato shifted uncomfortably, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "R-right. The thing about Yura Yura is... well, it's a duet between me and Aya-chan. There are parts where the both of us have to sing together but..." Her voice trailed off, the hesitation plain on her face.
I folded my arms, raising a brow. "So basically, you're struggling with singing and playing bass at the same time?"
She pressed her lips together and gave a small, shy nod.
I let out a low hum. "Hmmmm. That's a tough one... but I might be able to help." I paused, glancing at the clock on my phone. "Though maybe not right this second."
Her eyes lifted curiously. "But?"
"I've got a seven o'clock appointment," I explained, "and it's already past five. Still, I can at least give you some pointers now." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Before you can focus on singing, your bass has to become second nature. Play it until your fingers know every note by muscle memory. Once you stop relying on looking down, that's when you add vocals. Rehearse Yura Yura until you don't need to think about where your hands are, and then start layering the singing over it. It takes patience, a lot of trial and error... but once you break through, it's worth it. I had to do the same thing with guitar in my early days with OG. Believe me, it nearly drove me insane—but it paid off."
Chisato bit her lip, eyes shining with both worry and hope. "Do you... really think I can do it?"
I grinned. "I don't think you can. I know you will."
Her shoulders relaxed slightly at that, and the corner of her mouth curved up.
"Now come on," I said, standing and stretching out my arms. "Let me treat you to something to eat. Been a while since we've hung out, just the two of us."
She blinked, then gave me a suspicious look. "Won't other people get the wrong idea? I mean, if anyone sees us, they might think we're on a date. And..." she lowered her voice, "I'm still an idol. People always assume the worst if I'm seen with someone."
"True," I conceded with a small chuckle. "But this isn't a romantic date. Think of it as a sibling date. Nothing scandalous about that."
Her cheeks puffed slightly, caught between embarrassment and reluctant acceptance.
"Wait for me outside," I told her, grabbing my bag. "I'll finish things up here."
Chisato nodded and slipped out. After making a quick call to Hatate and Aya, asking them to close up once their shifts ended, I finally wrapped up and met her outside.
A Few Minutes Later – Family Restaurant
The restaurant was quiet but warm, filled with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of cutlery. We found a booth near the window, where the fading sunset cast a soft glow over the tables.
Just as we settled in, two young women walked past and stopped in their tracks. Their eyes widened, recognition flashing across their faces. One of them leaned toward me, almost shyly.
"Excuse me... are you Iku? From OG?"
I gave a polite smile. "That's me."
Their excitement burst through immediately. "We used to follow your band religiously! Could we... maybe get your signature?"
I could hardly refuse. "Of course." Pulling out a pen, I signed the napkins they offered and exchanged a few short words of thanks before they left, still buzzing with excitement.
When I turned back, I caught Chisato watching me with her arms folded, lips pursed in a pout.
"What?" I asked, already amused.
"Nothing," she muttered, clearly jealous.
Suppressing a laugh, I reached out and ruffled her hair. She swatted at my hand, cheeks tinged pink, but the irritation melted into something softer.
The waiter arrived a moment later. I ordered the classic Salisbury steak, and Chisato, after a brief pause, decided on a plate of creamy carbonara. With the orders taken, we settled into the easy silence that only family can share.
It didn't last.
I noticed the way she was looking at me—her eyes sharp, too serious for casual conversation.
"Riku," she said slowly, "something's wrong, isn't it?"
I blinked. "Was it that obvious?"
"For me, yes," she replied without hesitation. "You've been carrying something. Want to talk about it?"
I hesitated, my fingers tracing the rim of the water glass in front of me. I'd just helped her face her fears; maybe it was only fair that I didn't keep mine locked away.
I exhaled. "Here's what happened—"
Flashback - April 10, 2021
What did Johan mean by that? That OG needed me again?
The question lingered in my head as I gripped my phone tightly, pacing across the quiet office. I didn't waste time with pleasantries when he picked up. "Explain," I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.
"You know what's happening in Eastern Europe, right?" Johan's voice on the other end carried a weight that instantly made my chest tighten.
"Russia's sudden attack a few months ago? Yeah."
He sighed. "The thing is... ever since that attack, multiple countries have restricted Russian visas. That includes the bands and players coming from Russia. Which means... Misha's visa is invalid."
I stopped dead in my tracks. "What?"
It was the first time I'd heard about it. If that was true, it wasn't just inconvenient—it was catastrophic. Misha was our core. Without him, the structure of the team risked collapsing. My pulse quickened, thoughts racing ahead. "That screws everything over. How did the Eastern European teams respond to this?"
"They appealed a few weeks back. Got approved—but under conditions. Bands and orgs can only stay in competition if they relocate and renew their visas outside Russia, with proof they're not tied to Russian affiliations anymore. Na'Vi, Virtus.pro, BetBoom, and Team Spirit are already in the clear. But for guys like nightfall, dyrachYO, Misha, and chu... it'll take longer."
I pressed a hand against my forehead, trying to process the implications. It wasn't just one obstacle—it was a minefield of politics, regulations, and timing. "And you're calling me because of this?"
"That's one reason," Johan admitted. "The second is because you're still part of OG. You're not just a former player, Riku. You're also part-owner. We can't afford to lose half of our PBC points just to bring in a stand-in from another band."
His words made me flinch. "Half the points? I thought it was twenty-five percent."
"Not anymore. They changed the rule before the PBC started this year—probably to discourage teams from abusing stand-ins. And from what I've heard, they're also changing the regulations for Future World Fes and TI."
I stopped pacing, my grip on the phone tightening. "They what!?"
"Relax," Johan said, though his tone didn't sound relaxed at all. "We'll get the official details about the new rules two weeks before Future World Fes begins. For now, don't let it eat you alive."
Don't overthink it, he said. As if I could just shrug off rule changes that could shift the balance of the entire competitive scene. My jaw clenched as frustration bubbled. "Fine. What about Ceb? Does he know?"
"I called him earlier. He wanted to step in, but he's with his family right now. He won't be available until the end of June."
I let out a slow breath. No Ceb. No Misha. And the team hanging on a knife's edge.
"...I see," I muttered, then forced myself to think of a solution. "What about registering Misha under a Portuguese visa? He's been living in Portugal for a while, right? If you push that through, he should be able to play the next event."
There was a pause, then Johan chuckled—more out of relief than amusement. "Why didn't we think of that? Good call. I'll let Juan know."
"And the stand-in issue?" I pressed.
"You have until the end of the Spring Tour to give me an answer. I already spoke to your grandfather... he agreed."
My heart skipped. "...Wait. He what?"
"All we need now is your decision—whether you'll play or not."
Three bombs dropped in the span of one call.
First: the visa crisis tearing through the scene.
Second: the rule changes in the PBC, with more on the horizon.
Third: my grandfather giving his approval for my return without even telling me.
I sat heavily in my chair, the silence on my end stretching. My life was suddenly being pulled back into the fire I thought I'd left behind. "...Alright," I said at last, my voice low. "I'll give you a call once I've decided."
"That's all I ask. I'll expect your answer before the end of the month. Take care, Riku."
"You too, Johan."
The line went dead, but the silence that followed was louder than anything. I let my phone drop onto the desk and leaned back in my chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. Memories from my OG days surfaced unbidden—the sleepless nights of practice, the crushing defeats, the euphoric victories. I'd stepped away for a reason, but here I was, being pulled back into the maelstrom once more.
End of Flashback
I leaned back in my chair, the remnants of my Salisbury steak cooling on the plate, and let out a quiet sigh. "And that's what's been on my mind for the past few days."
Across from me, Chisato set down her fork, the creamy carbonara untouched for the moment. Her eyes met mine with a firmness I rarely saw from her outside the stage. "I think you should do it, Riku."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Eh?"
Her brows furrowed slightly. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No..." I shook my head, still processing her words. "It's just—I wasn't expecting you to say that. Honestly, I thought you'd tell me to stay. It's just... I'll feel bad, leaving Japan again after all those years."
"You don't need to worry."
Her voice was steady, and as she spoke, she reached across the table and gently took my hand in hers. The warmth of her touch was grounding, pulling me out of my whirlwind of doubt.
"You can go and play to your heart's content," she continued softly. "We'll be here, waiting for you to come back. And besides—this time, we'll actually get to watch you play on the stage you've been on for years. It won't just be me. Rinko-chan, Kokoro-chan, everyone else—they all want to see you perform."
I felt a quiet chuckle slip from me. "Guess I worried for nothing. Good thing I talked it out with you."
She tilted her head. "Me? What about Rinko-chan, Kokoro-chan, Ran-chan, and Kaoru?"
"Several reasons." I leaned back and ticked them off on my fingers. "Rinko would be heartbroken if she knew I was leaving. Kokoro and Kaoru? They'd probably tell everyone about it before I even boarded the plane. And Ran... well, she'd keep it to herself, but she wouldn't be happy about it. Out of all my childhood friends, you're the one who can take things seriously and understand the weight behind them."
Her brow twitched, her expression caught somewhere between annoyance and pride. "Is that supposed to be an insult or a compliment?"
"A compliment." I grinned mischievously, leaning forward. "Also... incoming food in three, two, one—"
She blinked, confused. "What are you—?"
"Sorry for the wait!" A waiter appeared at our table, balancing plates with practiced grace. "Here are your orders."
Chisato stared at the food being set down, her eyes wide in surprise before darting back to me. "How did you know that?"
I shrugged casually. "Don't know. I'm just a prediction master. But enough of that—let's eat."
Her lips curved into a reluctant smile, and soon the two of us dug into our meals. Conversation slipped into lighter topics, the earlier heaviness lifted, if only for a while. When the last plates were cleared and the bill paid, I offered to walk her home. She refused at first, saying she'd be fine, but I only had to mention the possibility of stalkers before she relented with a sigh.
Several Minutes Later – Shirasagi Residence, Front Gate
The evening air was cool, a faint breeze carrying the scent of spring blossoms as we stopped before the Shirasagi household's front gate. The porch light glowed softly, casting Chisato's face in a gentle halo.
"Well... we're here," she said, shifting the strap of her bass case on her shoulder. "And... thanks for the meal, Riku."
"Anytime." I offered her a small smile. "Well, I'd better head out. Remember what I told you at CiRCLE, alright?"
She nodded firmly. "I'll make sure to sort things out with Aya-chan and the others."
"Good." I stepped back, giving her space. "Good night, Chisato."
"Good night... onii-sama."
Her voice was softer than usual, almost wistful, and for a moment I hesitated, wondering if I should say more. But instead, I turned and began the walk home, her farewell lingering in my ears.
Twenty Minutes Later – Nagae Estate
The mansion greeted me in silence, its halls dimly lit by warm lamps. At the entrance, Youmu was already waiting, her usual composed expression present but touched with curiosity.
"Did you have dinner?" she asked.
"Yeah," I answered, loosening my jacket. "I ate outside with Chisato."
She nodded approvingly. "Then I'll leave you to rest. The package Lady Yukari sent you has been placed in your room."
"Thanks, Youmu."
Riku's Room
The moment I stepped into my room, my eyes went to the package neatly placed on the desk. But before I opened it, I pulled out my phone and dialed Johan's number.
He picked up almost immediately. "Riku..."
"Johan, it's me." I took a deep breath. "I'm in."
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a hint of relief in his tone. "Have you thought this through?"
"Yeah." My voice was steady. "When does bootcamp start?"
"Next week."
"I see." I leaned back in my chair. "By the way, how are Misha and chu's visas?"
"Your idea worked perfectly," Johan said. "They won't be able to join us in Stockholm, but they'll be clear for the next Future World Fes without any issues."
"That's good news."
"There are also some last-minute changes regarding the bands going to Stockholm."
My brow furrowed. "What kind of changes?"
"The Chinese bands won't be able to attend. Riots broke out in several major cities, forcing lockdowns."
I sat up straighter. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah. And because of that, there've been talks about cancelling Future World Fes entirely. But the PBC decided to let it continue with the fourteen bands still eligible. To compensate, they're giving the top four bands of the current tour an additional three hundred PBC points."
I let out a slow breath. "Well... that's a relief. I was starting to worry for them. Anyway, I've got some matters to attend to. We'll talk soon."
"Call me when you're about to leave," Johan said.
"Will do. Good night, Johan."
"Good night."
The call ended, and silence returned to my room. I turned toward the package waiting on my desk, curiosity finally winning. Carefully, I opened the box. Inside lay a pristine white keytar outlined in violet and red. The instrument gleamed beneath the light, and when I lifted it, the unexpected weight in my hands told me this wasn't any ordinary model—it was fully customized.
A smile tugged at my lips. "You really outdid yourself, Yukari-san."
After giving the keytar a brief test run—its sound rich, precise, and powerful—I set it aside and pulled up the latest Western Europe PBC standings. The rankings flashed across the screen, and my jaw dropped.
1st – OG – 6-1 – Qualified for Future World Fes
2nd – Gaimin Gladiators – 6-1 – Qualified for Future World Fes
3rd – Team Liquid – 4-3 – Qualified for Future World Fes
4th – Tundra – 4-3 – Qualified for Future World Fes
5th – Team Secret – 3-4 – Remain in Division 1
6th – Entity – 2-5 – Remain in Division 1
7th – Brame – 2-5 – Relegated to Division 2
8th – Nigma Galaxy – 1-6 – Relegated to Division 2
"You've got to be kidding me..." My hands tightened into fists. "Nigma, of all bands, dropping to Division 2? What the hell happened, Kuro? And Secret... they were solid last year, and now they're barely holding on. At this rate, they'll need the Regional qualifiers just to make TI. And OG in first, huh? Not bad—even tied with Gaimin, the 2–0 wins give them the edge."
I skimmed through the other regions' results, each update shifting the picture of the upcoming competition. Closing the laptop, I left my room and made my way down the quiet halls to my grandfather's quarters.
He listened patiently as I explained everything—the call with Johan, the visa issues, the standings, the looming decisions. When I finished, he simply chuckled, the lines on his face deepening with the weight of his years.
"You can still go," he told me firmly. "Don't worry about me. Go give them hell."
I nodded, the words striking a deep chord in me.
Later, I called Yuyuko-san to explain my situation. She listened carefully before setting her condition: if I scored at least eighty on the exam she prepared for me, I would be allowed to go. I accepted without hesitation, then asked if I could bring Youmu with me. She agreed.
When the call ended, I finally returned to my room, the reality of it all sinking in. My new keytar gleamed in the corner, my suitcase lay open on the bed, and for the first time in a long while, my path was clear. The storm of decisions had finally settled. It was time to prepare.
The Next Day
Hanasakigawa Girls' High School – Rooftop
Rinko's POV
The bell rang for lunch break, and I was about to head toward the student council office with Hikawa-san when my phone vibrated. A message from Riku.
"Can we talk? Just us two. Rooftop."
Something in his tone—no, even the way he phrased it—made my stomach twist. Riku rarely asked for private talks unless it was serious. Without a second thought, I told Hikawa-san I'd come later and followed the quiet path up to the rooftop.
The moment I stepped outside, I found Riku standing there with the breeze tugging at his hair. He turned when he heard the door open, and the expression on his face wasn't his usual calm, teasing one. His eyes were steady, almost heavy with the weight of something he carried.
"Rinko," he said quietly, his voice firm. "I'm leaving Japan this weekend."
"Eh?"
The word slipped out before I could stop it. Leaving? Again? My heart jolted, thudding against my chest so hard I thought it might burst. My breath caught, and almost instantly, tears prickled at the corners of my eyes.
Riku stepped closer, his presence steady like always, and with one hand he brushed away the tears I hadn't realized had already fallen.
"Don't cry," he whispered, his tone softer now. "Just let me explain."
I sniffed, embarrassed at myself, and quickly wiped my cheeks. My hands trembled slightly, but I nodded, giving him space to continue.
One Explanation Later
"So that's how it is," I murmured, trying to piece it all together. "You're leaving because... your band needs you."
"Yeah," Riku admitted. His gaze was steady, but there was a faint trace of guilt in it. "There aren't any other keyboardists available, and OG can't afford to lose so many points. I'm their last resort. And besides..." He gave me a small smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You'll finally get to see me perform on the kind of stage you and your band have dreamed about."
I bit my lip. The thought of seeing him perform should've filled me with excitement, but all I could think about was the distance, the silence of his absence. "How long will you be gone?"
"The group stage runs from May 12th to the 15th," he explained, his tone all business now, "and the main stage is from the 17th to the 21st. But before that, I'll need to fly to Portugal as soon as possible for bootcamp. I have to practice with the new guys, get used to their rhythm."
"That's..." My chest tightened. "That's quite a long time." I hesitated before asking the question that had been gnawing at me since his confession. "What about our first live? Who's going to take over if you're not here?"
"I already told Marina everything," he said firmly. "You can trust her. My grandfather personally chose her to manage CiRCLE, and I can vouch for her—she's more capable than you think."
His conviction gave me pause. If Riku believed in Marina-san that much, then I had to trust him. Even so, something inside me resisted. I didn't want him to go. Before I realized it, I reached forward and clasped both of his hands tightly in mine.
"I understand," I whispered, looking up at him through blurred vision. "But promise me, Riku. Promise me that you'll win."
The silence that followed was heavier than any reply. For a moment, I panicked, realizing what I had just done. His hands were warm, his grip firm, and as soon as I became aware of it, the heat rushed to my face. I let go quickly, stumbling back a step as my cheeks turned crimson.
Riku only chuckled, the sound low and familiar, before lifting one hand to pat my head gently.
"I already planned to," he said with a grin. "But sure. I promise I'll win."
The warmth in his voice settled some of my unease. He tilted his head toward the stairwell. "Now, let's get back to class before Sayo-san gets the wrong idea and lectures us again."
I couldn't help but laugh softly, nodding as we left the rooftop together. His presence beside me was reassuring, even as the reality of his words lingered in my chest.
When the final bell rang and classes ended, Riku caught me near the gates. His expression returned to that serious calm from earlier.
"Don't tell the others yet," he said quietly. "They'll find out on Saturday."
I nodded, clutching my bag a little tighter. Keeping something like this from everyone wasn't easy, but if Riku asked it of me, I would.
As he walked ahead, the setting sun stretching his shadow long across the pavement, I whispered to myself the words I couldn't say aloud—Please come back safe.
April 25, 2021 – 10:00 A.M.
Live House CiRCLE – Front Desk
It was Saturday morning, and Yukina-san had gathered us at CiRCLE. She wanted us to begin serious rehearsals in preparation for our first live. Everyone had agreed without hesitation, and so here we were, instruments ready, only to find Marina-san sitting calmly behind the front desk.
Yukina-san and Sayo-san exchanged a glance, both clearly searching for someone who wasn't here. Before Yukina-san could voice the question lingering in all our minds—
"GOOD MORNING!!"
The doors burst open, Toyama-san's voice echoing through the hall. She entered with the rest of Poppin'Party, and not just them—other bands followed close behind. It seemed they had also reserved time at CiRCLE today.
"Kasumi! You're too loud!" Ichigaya-san scolded sharply, clutching her bag in irritation.
"Sorry!~" Toyama-san laughed sheepishly, unfazed.
Tsurumaki-san tilted her head, scanning the room. "Onii-chan...? Hm? I don't see onii-chan here."
Okusawa-san gave a half-hearted shrug. "Maybe he's busy with something important."
Maruyama-san, ever curious, turned toward Chisato-san. "Do you have any idea where he is, Chisato-chan?"
Chisato-san didn't answer. She simply kept her lips pressed together, her eyes flicking away from Maruyama-san's hopeful gaze. Her silence was enough of a tell. If Riku had spoken to anyone, he had told her to keep it quiet.
"Odd," Mitake-san finally murmured, her voice lower but firm. "Normally, nii-san would at least say something if he were busy."
"Think so?" Udagawa-san asked, watching her sister closely.
Mitake-san only nodded once.
The air thickened as Yukina-san finally approached the counter, her voice crisp and unwavering. "Marina-san. Have you seen Riku-san?"
Marina-san hesitated. That pause alone drew every eye to her. She looked down, exhaled softly, then met Yukina's stare.
"Well... about that..." Her words dragged slowly, as though reluctant to take form. "He left Japan this morning."
The entire room froze.
Then the silence cracked.
"EHHHHHHHHHHHH!?"
The chorus of shock rang out in unison, every band member except Chisato-san and me shouting at once.
Hikawa-san was the first to step forward, her anger sharp and immediate. "What do you mean he left Japan!?" Her hands were clenched, her voice shaking with restrained fury.
"H-Hey, onee-chan, calm down!" Hina-san rushed to her side, trying to ease her sister, but Hikawa-san's frustration only deepened, her glare pinned on Marina-san.
Before Marina-san could even attempt to explain, the front doors opened again. Himekaidou-san entered, looking disheveled and exhausted, heavy bags shadowing her eyes.
"Hatate-chan," Marina-san said, blinking in surprise. "You're here... then that means..."
"Yeah." Himekaidou gave a weary nod. "The bands have been decided."
"Decided?" Lisa-san repeated, stepping forward.
Himekaidou-san shook her head lightly. "It's better to show you than to explain it all."
From her bag, she pulled out a small flash drive and walked briskly to the large monitor on the wall. Plugging it in, she tapped through the files, and soon the screen lit up.
The names that appeared made Yukina-san's breath hitch. "T-This is..."
"These are the bands," Himekaidou-san confirmed, her voice tired but clear, "that have qualified to compete at the Future World Fes. The event will be held in Stockholm this May."
The room went still again. For some, the weight of her words took a moment to sink in. The Future World Fes wasn't just a concert—it was the grand stage, the pinnacle of recognition.
The screen shifted, and one by one, the fourteen names and rosters filled the display.
(A/N: The teams are listed from left to right)
Top
Western Europe
OG
Yuragi – bzm – ATF – Taiga – Iku
Gaimin Gladiators
dyrachYO – BOOM – Ace – tOfu – Seleri
Team Liquid
MATUMBAMAN – miCKe – zai – Boxi – iNSaNiA
Tundra
skitter – Nine – 33 – Saksa - Sneyking
Southeast Asia
Fnatic
Raven – Armel – Jabz – DJ – Jaunuel
BOOM RIVALRY
jaCkky – Yopaj – Fbz – TIMS – Skem
T1
Gabbi – Karl – Kuku – Whitemon – Xepher
Bottom
Eastern Europe
BetBoom
Daxak – Larl – Noticed – Forcemajor – SoNNeikO
Team Spirit
Yatoro – TORONTOTOKYO – Collapse – Mira – Miposhka
Mind Games
Dinozavrik – Ainkrad – Petushara – Astral –Dukalis
North America
Evil Geniuses
Arteezy – Abed – Nightfall – Cr1t- – Fly
TSM
Timado – Bryle – SabeRLight- – MoonMeander –DuBu
South America
Thunder Awaken
Pakazs – DarkMago – Sacred – Matthew – Pandaboo
Beastcoast
K1 – Chris Luck – Wisper – Scofield – Stinger
The atmosphere inside CiRCLE shifted the moment Himekaidou-san tapped the OG logo on the screen. The display flickered, and then a new set of names appeared beneath the banner of the world-renowned band.
Toyama-san was the first to react. "NO WAY!!!" she shrieked, rushing to the front. Her voice echoed so loudly that the others jolted.
Yukina-san frowned and followed her. "Toyama-san, what happened?"
Toyama-san pointed at the board, hands trembling. "Riku-senpai's name is here!"
The room stilled. Heads turned toward the glowing list. And there it was—clear as day.
OG
Gt./Vo. - Artem "Yuragi" Golubiev – 19 – Ukraine
Gt. - Ammar "ATF" Al-Assaf – 15 – Jordan
Bass - Bozhidar "bzm" Bogdanov – 15 – Bulgaria
Drum - Tommy "Taiga" Le – 23 – Norway
Key./Vo. - Riku "Iku" Nagae – 19 – Japan
Mitake-san's eyes widened. "...It's true."
Yamabuki-san clapped a hand over her mouth. "You're right, Kasumi!"
Ako-chan leaned forward, pointing at the ages. "Wait—two of them are the same age as me!"
The chatter swelled, confusion and disbelief mixing together. Finally, Lisa-san turned toward Marina, arms folded. "Marina-san... why is Riku's name there?"
The manager shifted, her usual confident smile replaced with unease. "Well... from what he told me a few days ago, OG reached out to him. Their current keyboardist is having trouble with his VISA, so they asked Riku to stand in for him."
Hikawa-san's voice cracked as she snapped, "Then why didn't he tell us sooner?!"
The tension rippled. Even though I could already guess Riku's reasons, the others were struggling to accept it. And then, before Marina could answer, another voice cut through the noise—light, almost playful.
"Simple. Because he knew you'd find out sooner or later."
All eyes turned to the front door. A woman stepped in, her pink hair spilling over a sky-blue kimono. Those of us from Hanasakigawa recognized her immediately—Saigyouji Yuyuko, the school's principal... and Riku's aunt.
My soft voice trembled. "Principal... what are you doing here?"
Yuyuko-san glided across the room, an amused smile tugging at her lips. "Well, Riku-kun called me a little while ago. He asked me to give you girls this."
She reached the front desk and placed a neat stack of glossy tickets down. The metallic shine under the lights caught everyone's eyes.
Hikawa-san blinked. "Principal... are those tickets?"
Yuyuko-san gave a playful tilt of her head. "That's right, Sayo-chan. But these are not ordinary tickets—these are VIP passes for Future World Fes. Riku-kun made sure to reserve them for all of you."
The room erupted.
Tsurumaki-san clapped her hands together, her voice brimming with joy. "Does that mean we get to watch onii-chan play in person!?"
"Of course," Yuyuko-san replied with a chuckle. Then her tone shifted, firm but still laced with warmth. "But... if you want to attend the tournament itself, you'll need to pass your exams first. You're students, after all. A grade of at least seventy in every subject, or no trip."
The declaration hit like a thunderclap. Several girls crumpled to the floor in despair—Toyama-san, Hanazono-san, and Kitazawa-san rolling around dramatically as if their very souls had left their bodies.
"Whyyyyyy!?" Toyama-san wailed.
"Th-that's impossible..." Kitazawa-san muttered, eyes wide.
Yuyuko-san pressed on, unbothered. "And this also applies to the Haneoka students. I spoke with your headmaster earlier, and she agreed. Fail your exams, and you don't get to watch Riku-kun play."
The Haneoka girls stiffened in unison, a collective look of dread washing over them. Even Yukina-san, usually unshakable, shifted nervously. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead.
Toyama-san, refusing to wallow long, spun toward Ichigaya-san. "Arisa! Help me study!!!"
Ichigaya-san shoved her off with a scowl. "Let go of me, you oaf! Study on your own!"
Hanzono-san raised her hand sheepishly. "Saaya... can you help me?"
"I-I'll see what I can do..." Yamabuki-san stammered, clearly unsure of her own limits.
Meanwhile, Kitazawa-san latched onto Okusawa-san. "Mii-kun!! Help me study!!!"
Okusawa-san sighed, caught in Kitazawa-san's grip. But before she could answer, Tsurumaki-san burst in with her boundless energy. "Don't worry, Hagumi! I'll help you out!"
The blonde hugged her friend dramatically. "Kokoron!!"
Across the room, Chisato-san calmly addressed her bandmates. "Aya-chan, Maya-chan... have you two been keeping up with your studying?"
Maruyama-san shifted, glancing away. "Well... I think I can handle it, but... could you help me a bit?"
Yamato-san adjusted her glasses nervously. "H-Hina-san and Eve-san have been tutoring me, so... I think I'm okay."
On the other side, Uehara-san clung to Hazawa-san like her life depended on it. "Tsugu! Please help me!!"
Hazawa-san smiled gently, patting her arm. "Don't worry, Himari-chan. Everyone will help. Right, girls?"
Udagawa-san gave a firm nod. "You can rely on us."
Aoba-san stretched lazily but grinned. "Moca-chan will give her all~."
Mitake-san's lips quirked upward. "Like always, we've got your back, Himari."
Hikawa-san crossed her arms, her serious gaze cutting through the chatter. "Tempting as it is, we can't forget Roselia's first live. We won't have much free time."
Ako-chan groaned dramatically. "Aw, man!! That's not fair!!"
Her complaint resonated with me. Even I wanted to go, but... we had our own responsibilities. Our live was right around the corner.
Marina-san, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. "Oh, about that. Riku wanted you girls to attend. He thought this might inspire you for your upcoming live. Don't worry about the set—me and the others will handle it. Just give us the details."
Her reassurance seemed to soften the edges of everyone's doubt.
My cheeks flushed. "Marina-san..."
Lisa-san exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. "Looks like we really do have to hit the books, then. Yukina, how are your grades?"
All eyes turned to Yukina-san. Yukina-san froze, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she pivoted on her heel and marched into the reserved studio with perfect composure.
Lisa-san gaped. "She dodged the question!!"
Hikawa-san groaned, massaging her temple. "Looks like we'll need to help Minato-san study too. Shirokane-san, would you help Udagawa-san?"
I hesitated before nodding. "S-sure. Ako-chan, are you okay with me tutoring you?"
Ako-chan beamed, throwing her arms around her. "Absolutely! If it's you, I'll ace the tests for sure!!"
Yuyuko-san covered her mouth with a laugh that was half-teasing, half-enigmatic. "Ara ara~ ufufufufu..."
Marina-san chuckled at the sight. "The girls are really motivated now."
"Of course," Yuyuko-san replied softly. "Riku-kun already took his exams in advance. If he scores eighty or higher, he'll be allowed to go. If he can manage it, I'm sure these girls can too."
The room buzzed with determination. For the first time since Riku's sudden absence was revealed, hope outweighed confusion.
Meanwhile
Nagae Estate – Kyoya's Office
3rd POV
The study was silent save for the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting long, amber streaks across the polished floor. Nagae Kyoya, head of the family, sat back in his chair. The stack of documents on his desk—reports and contracts Riku had completed before his sudden departure—was finally set aside.
He closed his eyes briefly, allowing himself the rare moment of rest. But peace, as always, was fleeting.
Knock. Knock.
Kyoya's sharp gaze lifted.
"Who is it?"
A familiar voice answered from behind the door. "It's me, Oyakata-sama."
Kyoya's expression softened slightly. "Ah... Eiji. Enter."
The door creaked open and in walked Kamiki Eiji, the family's head butler. His posture was straight as ever, his composure unshaken, but in his hands he carried a heavy bundle of papers. He approached the desk with measured steps, placing the documents neatly before his master.
"Here are the reports you requested," Eiji said.
Kyoya gave a short nod. "Good work, Eiji. Then it seems the men we dispatched have done their job."
Eiji hesitated for a moment, his eyes dimming. "Yes. They managed to take the girl to safety. But they were... too late to save the parents. By the time our men arrived, both had already succumbed to their injuries. Multiple gunshot wounds. Several stab wounds to the back."
A shadow crossed Kyoya's face. He leaned back in his chair, fingers laced together in thought. "I see... and the girl?"
"She is still unconscious," Eiji replied. "But alive. We've notified the school she attends. They've agreed to allow her time to recover before the transfer is made official. If her condition improves, everything will proceed smoothly."
Kyoya's tone hardened. "Have you learned who was responsible?"
Eiji shook his head. "No. But our men gathered hints. The attackers weren't acting alone. They were hired."
Kyoya's eyes narrowed. "Hired... So this was no crime of chance."
"Yes, Oyakata-sama. They were contracted by a bald Asian man. Our men described him as short-tempered, with a violent attitude."
For a long moment, Kyoya said nothing. He tilted his head back, eyes fixed on the ornate ceiling above him. The weight of exhaustion showed in the slow breath he released.
Eiji, ever attentive, stepped closer. "Is something the matter, Oyakata-sama?"
Kyoya lowered his gaze, masking whatever storm brewed behind his eyes. "It's nothing, Eiji. Don't concern yourself." He pushed away from the desk and stood. "Get the car ready. I'm going to visit her."
Eiji bowed. "Understood. But... may I ask a question before I make preparations?"
Kyoya paused, raising a brow. "Ask."
"Are you certain," Eiji began carefully, "that you want to bring her into the family?"
Kyoya's eyes hardened with resolve. "I am certain. She carries the blood of the Nagae. I will not stand by and allow another life with our bloodline to vanish. Not again. I won't repeat the mistakes of the past."
Eiji inclined his head, satisfied with the clarity in his master's voice. "I see. And what of Riku-sama? He doesn't know any of this."
"He will find out eventually," Kyoya replied, his tone gentler but no less firm. "But not now. He has his band to lead. Burdening him with this while his comrades rely on him... it would shift his priorities. He must stay focused."
A flicker of recognition crossed Eiji's face. "Ah, yes. I nearly forgot." He hesitated again before asking, "One last thing. When she wakes, will she take the Nagae name? Or keep her own?"
Kyoya's gaze drifted toward the tall window, where the sun was beginning its slow descent. "That choice will be hers. If she wishes to carry the Nagae name, we will welcome her without hesitation. She'll learn everything about her lineage, and the truth of what it means to be one of us. But if she refuses... then we'll still protect her. We'll give her the chance to live as normally as possible. The world we inhabit is no place for the unprepared."
Eiji bowed deeply. "Very well. I'll prepare the car immediately."
As the butler departed, Kyoya walked slowly to the window. He placed one hand against the cool glass, his eyes on the sprawling gardens beyond. His reflection stared back at him, lined with both pride and weariness.
"Things have already spiraled out of control," he murmured to himself. His voice was low, burdened. "If he truly has a hand in this... then I may have no choice but to confront them. But for now..." His jaw tightened. "...the girl is my priority."
With that, he turned and strode out of the office.
The silence returned, leaving behind only the documents scattered on the desk. Atop the pile lay a single file, open just enough to reveal the image clipped to it.
A young girl's face stared back from the photograph—dark violet hair framing her features, dark violet eyes devoid of light. There was a fragility about her, yet also an unspoken weight, as though tragedy had carved its mark deep into her soul.
Beneath the photo, the name printed in neat black letters read:
Asahina Mafuyu.
To be Continued...