[RiNG Music Café, Thursday, 4:47 PM]
"You actually invited Tomori to join a band?! You're the worst!"
After Takamatsu Tomori's hesitant introduction and Kazama Haru's timely explanations, Shiina Taki finally understood the whole story. She half-forcefully dragged Kazama Haru by his sleeve toward a distant corner near the emergency exit, her face pale with barely contained fury. The scent of fresh-ground espresso and warm butter croissants from the café's afternoon rush hung thick in the air, incongruously pleasant against the tension crackling between them.
"Is there a problem with inviting Tomori to join the band?"
Kazama Haru blinked with practiced innocence, keeping his posture loose even as her grip tightened on his uniform sleeve. "Also, Shiina-san, right? This is our first time meeting, so even if you don't want to use honorifics, shouldn't you at least—"
"Tch."
Shiina Taki clicked her tongue, the sound sharp enough to cut glass. Her amber eyes—framed by those distinctive tear-mole beauty marks—narrowed dangerously. She clearly had no intention of speaking to him politely. "Don't you dare 'Shiina-san' me with that fake-polite voice. And stop calling Tomori by her given name like you're close. Use proper honorifics, omae."
The deliberate rudeness of that pronoun landed exactly as intended—a verbal slap between strangers.
This guy shows up out of nowhere, gets close to Tomori, and now acts like they're childhood friends? Over my dead body.
"Alright, alright." Kazama Haru raised both hands in surrender, nodding helplessly. Placating this hot-tempered girl came first. "Regarding Takamatsu-san and your previous band's... situation, I've actually looked into it. It was called CRYCHIC, right?"
Shiina Taki's jaw dropped, her aggressive stance faltering. "You mean—Tomori voluntarily told you about Sakiko and the others?"
"Sakiko, huh..." Kazama Haru tilted his head, expression carefully neutral despite having shared given-name intimacy with Togawa Sakiko just that morning. "I haven't heard her mention that name. Was she also part of the previous band?"
The lie rolled off his tongue smooth as honey.
"Takamatsu-san only told me that the previous band fell apart because her singing wasn't good enough, which displeased some members." He let genuine warmth enter his voice for the next part—this, at least, he meant. "After learning about CRYCHIC, I searched for your SNS accounts online. From the performance videos you'd uploaded, everyone was incredible. And Takamatsu-san's performance especially... it touched my soul."
He pressed his palm flat against his chest for emphasis.
"So I don't think it was her fault at all. If anything—" his tone sharpened just slightly, "—the girl who just quit without a word is the one with the problem, right?"
Forgive me, Sakiko.
Kazama Haru silently apologized in his heart. He knew that Sakiko had actually suffered something devastating that day—like plummeting from heaven straight into hell. If their positions were reversed, he wasn't certain he could have made a better choice.
But to successfully bring these divine band girls together, he had to tailor his words to his audience. Shiina Taki's loyalty to Tomori was the lever he needed.
"That's... not a bad point." Shiina Taki's shoulders dropped incrementally, some of the hostility bleeding from her posture. "Wait—didn't I tell you to use honorifics? How are you still... hmph, whatever."
At least he's not completely brain-dead. Most guys would've just stuttered and run away by now.
She snorted, but her voice had lost its razor edge. "I didn't expect Tomori to actually be willing to tell you all this. I wonder what methods you used to coax her into opening up."
"Nn, all thanks to sincerity." Kazama Haru shrugged with deliberate casualness, the motion pulling at the fabric she still gripped. "Pure, honest sincerity. Anyway, Takamatsu-san now wants to form a band again, and she seems to really want to continue performing with you, Shiina."
He dropped the honorific deliberately this time—testing the waters.
"Earlier at school, she mentioned you more than once. Coming here today, she also hoped I could accompany her to persuade you to join."
To push Shiina Taki onto the 'band wagon' in one decisive stroke—and gambling that she wouldn't leak this private conversation to anyone—Kazama Haru's rhetoric turned aggressive. Fan the flames. Pile on the kindling. Whatever it takes.
"Wh—what?!" Shiina Taki's voice cracked. Her free hand flew up to cover her mouth, cheeks flooding crimson so fast it looked almost painful. "You—you—is that true? You're not lying to me, are you?!"
Just as expected.
When she heard the words "When Tomori decided to form a band again, the first member she hoped to invite was you," Shiina Taki's entire demeanor transformed. Her tough-girl facade crumbled like wet paper, replaced by something raw and achingly vulnerable.
Tomori... wanted me first? Before anyone else? Even after everything that happened?
"Of course it's true." Kazama Haru kept his expression serious, earnest, utterly trustworthy. "If you don't believe me, I'll take you to verify it with her right now?"
"B-Baka! How could I ask something like that directly?! It's way too embarrassing!"
Imagining Takamatsu Tomori's absolute trust and cherishing—the idea that despite everything, Tomori still wanted her—Shiina Taki's voice turned unexpectedly soft. Shy, even. A faint tremor ran through her fingers where they still clutched his sleeve.
"I'll... I'll take it that what you said is true." She swallowed hard, lifting her chin with renewed determination. "In that case—I absolutely must join Tomori's band!"
Finally.
Deep in the theatrical shadows of Kazama Haru's mind, his chibi self pressed both hands over his face and unleashed a villain's grin—the kind that would make any anime protagonist shudder.
She fell for it completely.
"Really? That's great!"
He injected maximum surprise and delight into his voice, careful not to sound like he was reading from a script. Turning, he gestured toward Takamatsu Tomori, who had been peeking over with an anxious, curious expression from their corner booth. The afternoon light caught her silver-lavender hair, making it shimmer like moonlit water.
"Since that's decided, let's hurry back and tell Takamatsu-san the good news. She'll definitely be happy to hear that she can be in a band with you again, Shiina."
"Mm!"
Shiina Taki's face glowed with barely contained joy. Just thinking about continuing with Tomori—performing together, creating music together, standing on stage together again—made her heart feel as sweet as konpeito dissolving on her tongue. She completely forgot to keep bickering with Kazama Haru, practically bouncing on her heels as they walked back.
---
Returning to the corner booth with its worn velvet cushions and the lingering aroma of chamomile from Tomori's untouched tea, the two delivered the news.
Takamatsu Tomori's violet eyes went wide, then began to glisten with unshed tears. Her voice trembled with emotion and joy so pure it was almost painful to witness.
"Really? That's wonderful! Taki-chan—" She reached out, both hands wrapping around Shiina Taki's. "—thank you. Thank you so much."
"No, it's me who should be thanking you!"
Shiina Taki shook her head vigorously, her own expression crumpling with emotion. She squeezed Tomori's delicate fingers, feeling the slight calluses on her friend's palms from gripping microphone stands.
"Originally, after what happened before... I thought I would never have the chance to perform with you again, Tomori." Her voice wavered dangerously, threatening to break. "I didn't expect to have another chance. It's truly... like a dream I don't want to wake up from."
Please let this be real. Please don't let anyone take this away again.
Despite being on the clock, her voice carried an uncontrollable tremor—the kind that came from crying too hard to hide it.
"Yes... me too."
Takamatsu Tomori tightened her grip, their intertwined fingers creating a small anchor against the café's ambient noise—the hiss of the espresso machine, the soft murmur of other customers, the gentle jazz filtering through overhead speakers. Then she turned her head, gratitude softening every line of her usually melancholic face, and looked at Kazama Haru.
If it weren't for Haru-kun... I might still be standing frozen, too scared to reach out.
"Taki-chan, all of this is thanks to Haru-kun. If it weren't for his invitation and care, we might not have had this opportunity..."
"Perhaps so."
Shiina Taki followed Tomori's gaze. Looking at Kazama Haru's carefully neutral expression, she didn't quite believe his existence was that important—but out of love for Tomori, she quietly decided that her attitude toward him could improve. A little. Maybe.
Just a little.
"Your drinks are ready~"
Ms. Rinko's melodic call drifted over from the bar, breaking the emotional tension like a gentle hand on a shoulder.
Shiina Taki inhaled deeply through her nose, catching the grounding scent of fresh-roasted beans and vanilla syrup. She blinked rapidly, forcing the dampness from her eyes.
"I'll go get them."
She slipped away from the booth with obvious reluctance to leave Tomori's side, her small form weaving between tables toward the pickup counter.
---
Sipping his black tea—now lukewarm and slightly bitter from over-steeping—Kazama Haru allowed himself a moment of quiet satisfaction.
Although there had been dramatic minor twists in the process, he'd successfully maneuvered the tear-mole drummer onto his roster.
So next...
The target should be the bassist: Nagasaki Soyo.
After Togawa Sakiko's abrupt departure from CRYCHIC, this honey-brown-haired bassist had been unwilling to surrender. Sparing no effort, using every possible method—manipulation, social engineering, carefully maintained friendships that served ulterior purposes—all in service of bringing the members back together.
Exchange Information: Nagasaki Soyo's whereabouts.
[Wish Points Balance: 16900 → 16850]
To learn her recent schedule, Kazama Haru decisively spent fifty points.
According to the data that bloomed behind his eyes like projected text, Nagasaki Soyo had been visiting RiNG occasionally over the past few weeks. Her stated purpose was to inquire about Sakiko's situation and maintain contact with former CRYCHIC members—but her actual focus was Shiina Taki, the only one still accessible, still willing to talk.
Despite having almost no common ground with the hot-tempered drummer, Soyo still forced her sweetest smile. She used Takamatsu Tomori—a mutual interest—as a wedge to subtly probe Taki's intentions about reviving the band.
She truly is the woman with the deepest feelings for CRYCHIC.
Her persistent belief and extraordinary initiative were almost admirable. Almost pitiable.
However, if that's the case...
Kazama Haru drained the last of his cooling tea, grimacing slightly at the tannin bitterness coating his tongue.
I just need to wait here, right?
"Haru-kun."
Tomori's soft voice pulled him from his scheming. Seeing his prolonged silence, she'd apparently assumed he was still bothered by Shiina Taki's earlier hostility. Her slender fingers fidgeted with the handle of her teacup—still full, he noticed, the chamomile gone cold.
I should say something to help them get along...
"With Taki-chan joining, we only need to find two more members." She tilted her head, lavender strands slipping over her shoulder. "Bass and... keyboardist... right?"
Kazama Haru scratched the back of his head. "For a keyboardist, it's not strictly necessary for a band. If possible, recruiting another guitarist wouldn't be out of the question either."
"I see..."
Takamatsu Tomori nodded, her expression going slightly vacant—and beneath that blankness, a hint of dejection crept into her voice like fog rolling in.
Keyboardist... Sakiko...
Although she'd technically had two band experiences now, she'd always been in a passive position. Carried along by others' momentum, given little agency, making few decisions of her own.
The reason she cared about the keyboardist position was entirely because of Sakiko's lingering shadow.
Don't worry, Tomori.
Watching her mood dip again, Kazama Haru wanted desperately to comfort her—to tell her that once his [Girl Band 48] was established, he would absolutely give her and Sakiko ample opportunities to perform together. To reconcile. To heal.
But now wasn't the time for that reveal.
"Gara-gara-gara—"
Just as the atmosphere thickened with unspoken melancholy, a clear rattling sound suddenly invaded the café's gentle ambiance.
Both their heads turned toward the entrance.
A petite figure strode through the door with surprising confidence—white hair cropped short and messy, bouncing with each step. But it was her eyes that seized attention: heterochromatic, one a vivid sky-blue, the other a striking gold, like mismatched gems set in porcelain.
She dragged a heavy-looking suitcase behind her, its wheels goro-goro-goro-ing against the hardwood floor. Despite her small stature—barely five feet, if that—she moved like she owned every inch of space she occupied.