Another world.
After school, in the Light Music Club's room.
The sunset tinted the small room a warm orange. The air held a faint mix of black tea and instrument oil.
Yui Hirasawa hugged her trademark "Guitar," lazily plucking an off-key melody, her tea-brown ahoge bobbing with each motion. Tsumugi Kotobuki sipped her tea with elegant little tastes, dainty pastries lined up before her. Ritsu Tainaka practiced rhythms in the air with her drumsticks—though her eyes kept drifting toward the quiet figure by the window: Mio Akiyama.
Mio sat alone in the chair by the window, her mint-green bass in her arms. She wasn't practicing.
Head lowered, long black bangs covering most of her face, she stared blankly at the space in front of her—or rather, at the group chat there.
She'd signed up.
In three days, she would go to another world to watch a real magic tournament. Now that she'd cooled down and thought about it, Mio could only feel waves of palpitations and after-the-fact fear.
Magic? Another world? Oh no!
What came over me back then? How did "I want to go too" just slip out?
This was even scarier than singing in front of an audience. What if that world was dangerous? What if some strange magical creature fixed on her? What if she couldn't come back?
Her slender fingers unconsciously tightened on the bass strap, her knuckles whitening. A huge unease surged in like a tide, threatening to drown her.
But amid the panic, another thought—clearer, more stubborn—rose and steadied her like an anchor, quickly pressing the fear down.
It wasn't only curiosity about magic.
She wanted to go for a more important reason… because of him.
Mio's gaze, carrying a dependence she herself couldn't explain, lifted to the top name in her chat list—Rei Ao. The name seemed to have its own magic, calming her restless heart in a strange way.
She missed him.
Yes—she missed Rei Ao. That last "deal" had been chaotic and embarrassing. He always carried a dangerous aura that scared her yet drew her in. His very presence stirred a brand-new turmoil in her—flustering, yet threaded with a faint, undeniable pull.
Thinking of that reckless day—of his strong arms and heat—Mio's cheeks flushed scarlet like a ripe apple. Almost without realizing, she placed a small hand over her flat stomach, the faintest motion no one would notice. Through the thin school blouse, her fingertips seemed to hold a lingering warmth, a trace of his touch. She remembered his low, steady reassurance in her ear—firm, impossible to doubt—that there would be no "consequences."
Boom—shame rushed to her head like molten rock. Mio ducked sharply, wishing she could bury her entire face in her bass case. The cool metal hardware against her burning skin brought the slightest comfort.
"Mio-chan?" Yui stopped strumming and tilted her head, chestnut eyes full of confusion as she watched her bandmate daydream by the window, cheeks growing redder and redder. "Mio's been spacing out like this a lot lately. Is it because of the group chat?"
Ritsu set down her sticks, brows knitting hard. The look she shot Mio was full of worry—and the faintest touch of irritation. She jabbed a stick into the practice pad with a dull thump and said, voice a mix of helplessness and protectiveness:
"It's gotta be that guy, Rei Ao! If it weren't for him… Mio wouldn't be like this, out of it all day!"
Her tone carried obvious resentment toward the group owner, Rei Ao.
"Ritsu." Tsumugi gently set down her fine bone-china teacup with a clear little clink. Calm but firm, she called her agitated friend to a halt and gave a small shake of her head. The purple eyes that usually smiled were clear and resigned instead.
Stopped by Mugi's look, Ritsu opened her mouth, then swallowed the sharper words. She raked a hand through her orange short hair and let out a defeated sigh. She understood Mugi: when you care, you get rash. More than anyone, she ached over Mio's change—and more than anyone, she wanted Rei Ao to come see Mio.
But…
Tsumugi had already mobilized her family's resources to investigate this "Rei Ao." The result? No records. No trace. He didn't exist in this world—just like how no one else knew about their chat group. The impossible things were real.
The three friends shared complicated looks toward the straight-haired girl by the window, lost in her own thoughts. They thought she was still pining after Rei Ao.
But what actually circled in Mio's head was a far more practical—and far more headache-inducing—problem.
Three days from now… it's the weekend. If I'm going to another world, shouldn't I tell my family something?
But… what excuse?
Say I'm joining a mysterious magic-tournament spectator trip? They'll think I've lost it.
Say I'm meeting an online friend? Mom and Dad will question me to death—and it sounds even more dangerous.
Say… I'm going to a closed music boot camp?
That… might barely work?
But I'll need Ritsu and the others to back me up.
"Ugh… such a pain…"
Mio unconsciously rubbed her cheek against the bass case and let out a mosquito-soft sigh of girlish frustration. Her black hair fell forward, hiding her thoroughly tangled expression.