The next day, as soon as the final bell rang, Kazama Haru whisked Takamatsu Tomori straight to the train station five hundred meters from the school gate.
Their destination: a karaoke parlor near Ikebukuro's East Exit.
It was that golden hour when surrounding schools also released their students, and the crowded train car swelled with fresh faces in crisp, unfamiliar uniforms. For first-years, official club activities hadn't kicked off yet, so many headed home the moment classes ended—or gathered in small groups of two or three to explore the bustling urban districts nearby.
To keep her from getting separated in the crush, and with Takamatsu Tomori's shy nod of permission, Kazama Haru gently wrapped his fingers around her slender wrist as the carriage swayed and lurched.
A tall JK with long, spiral-curled blonde hair sidled up, smartphone already extended with a hopeful smile—but Kazama Haru waved off her request for contact info without missing a beat. He pulled Tomori through the press of bodies toward a seat that had just opened up.
"Tomori, sit down."
Seeing Tomorin hesitate, her gaze flickering uncertainly between him and the seat, Kazama Haru didn't waste words. He placed both hands on her shoulders and pressed her down—firmly, but not roughly.
"Hyau—!"
Takamatsu Tomori startled at the sudden contact, her pretty face flushing crimson all the way to the tips of her ears. A soft, startled sound escaped her throat before she could stop it.
Is... Is Kazama-san really this forward...?
But that wasn't the end of it.
To give Tomori space to retreat into her own thoughts without being jostled, Kazama Haru gripped the overhead handle with one hand while bracing his other palm flat against the wall behind her seat, fingers splayed wide.
He'd effectively "half-caged" Takamatsu Tomori in a pose that looked suspiciously like a kabedon.
This way, no matter how packed the carriage got, no stranger would be able to crowd against her.
"K-K-Kazama-san!"
Takamatsu Tomori's voice shot up several decibels—one might've thought she was already warming up for a soprano performance.
"Hmm?" Kazama Haru tilted his head down, leaning closer to catch whatever she wanted to say over the rumble and chatter of the train.
His breath, carrying the faint, clean scent unique to a teenage boy, brushed across Tomori's cheek.
"Uu... T-Too close..."
Takamatsu Tomori's voice wobbled, thin and unsteady. Her cheeks burned so hot she half-expected steam to rise from her skin.
The girl who had always struggled to parse human emotions finally, finally understood what "embarrassment" actually felt like.
Kazama Haru's intentions had been entirely pure—he'd hoped his " protective barrier" would carve out a quiet bubble for Tomori even in the crowded train, letting her drift into her own world undisturbed.
Unfortunately, his execution missed the mark completely. He'd failed to consider the psychological impact such a casually intimate posture would have on a girl her age.
With Kazama Haru's face hovering so close, Tomori's brain felt like it had been struck by lightning—nothing but static and white noise, utterly incapable of coherent thought.
Her heart hammered so violently against her ribs that she could hear her own pulse thundering in her ears.
It wasn't until they'd exited the train and Takamatsu Tomori had spent a solid minute clutching her chest and taking deep breaths that her ability to think finally flickered back online.
A single, crystalline thought surfaced first:
Kazama-san... besides being reliable... might actually be kind of... dangerous...
Under Tomori's silent guidance—silent because she was still far too flustered to string words together properly—Kazama Haru followed her through winding side streets and finally arrived at their destination: the karaoke parlor.
The interior was luxuriously decorated, all warm sepia tones and vintage charm. Black-and-white checkered tiles stretched across the floor, and the walls were plastered with glossy promotional posters of popular bands—including the two-member idol duo Sumimi, their matching outfits gleaming under the ambient lighting.
Kazama Haru's eyes immediately caught the classic three-color drink machine tucked into the corner. That thing was practically a veteran supporting actor in the MyGO universe at this point—it showed up everywhere.
Takamatsu Tomori's gaze lingered on that same drink machine for a beat longer than necessary. Then she glanced at Kazama Haru, who was still surveying the space with open curiosity written across his features, and steeled herself to approach the front desk.
"Hello, one small private room, for about..."
"Three hours," Kazama Haru added smoothly, catching Tomori's pleading look.
Led by a cheerful clerk, the two made their way into their reserved room.
"Tomori, any songs you want to sing? I'll queue them up for you."
Eager to spark Tomori's enthusiasm, Kazama Haru set down his heavy guitar bag and immediately walked over to the touchscreen song selection panel, glancing back at her expectantly.
But Takamatsu Tomori just stared down at the microphone resting on the low table, her fingers hovering near it without touching. After a long, heavy pause, she finally spoke:
"I... I'm not ready yet."
Kazama Haru's chest tightened.
Could it be... that seeing all this is triggering memories? Is she having another Togawa Sakiko PTSD episode right now?
To ease the pressure pressing down on her shoulders, Kazama Haru kept his tone deliberately light, almost careless:
"I see. Then I'll go first."
He pulled up the selection keyboard and typed in "One Love"—a song with a gentle, upbeat melody. Not only was the tune bright and lively, but the lyrics overflowed with youthful warmth and sincerity.
Perfect for soothing Takamatsu Tomori's dampened spirits.
Kazama Haru settled the guitar across his lap, and as the music video bloomed to life on the large screen behind him, his voice—soft, earnest, surprisingly tender—began to flow:
"Things I wanted to convey but couldn't—sometimes, I just can't say them directly."
"We've overcome the times we cried... and now, we're shining bright."
"The shapes of happiness we each imagined... they overlap now, becoming one great love."
"..."
The instant the guitar's first notes rang out, Takamatsu Tomori's head lifted on instinct.
Kazama Haru sat about two arm-lengths away from her, wholly absorbed in coaxing melody from the strings. His slightly overgrown bangs fell naturally across his right eyebrow as he bent over the instrument, and a gentle, golden warmth seemed to spill from his fingertips along with the music.
Takamatsu Tomori hadn't been in a band for long, but even she could immediately recognize the level of skill on display.
His posture holding the guitar was textbook-perfect. His control over string bends and vibrato was precise down to the millimeter—pitch-perfect every time.
Even compared to Mutsumi, the guitarist from her previous band, Kazama Haru wasn't inferior in the slightest.
With such polished technique as a foundation, the emotions woven into Kazama Haru's singing swelled fuller and richer with every passing measure.
It felt like April's cherry blossom rain—delicate petals drifting down, softening everything they touched, including her heart.
As if enchanted by that gentle melody, Takamatsu Tomori found herself staring at Kazama Haru's profile, transfixed.
Noticing her gaze, Kazama Haru's fingers danced across the strings one more time—then he turned, meeting her eyes directly.
At that exact moment, the music swelled into its emotional climax.
"I swear—even a hundred years from now, I'll still love you."
"You are my everything."
"I love you, only you—let's promise to meet again tomorrow."
"Out of the whole world, I chose just one person... I chose only you."
"As long as I'm with you—any future will sparkle!"
"..."
In that instant, though the ambient lighting in the private room was dim, almost dusky—to Takamatsu Tomori, the young man before her radiated dazzling light.
Like the brilliant stars that had once reflected in her pupils beneath a clear night sky, back when she still believed the world could be kind.
Guided by something deeper than thought, the girl reached out toward that light.
For an existence like this—even if it happened ten thousand times over—she knew she wouldn't be able to refuse. Not even once.
"...Haru-kun."
Her voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with raw emotion.
"Let's form a band. For life."