Though he always spoke confidently about there being no punishment for failure, Aoki Kei knew very well, if he couldn't lead Kessoku Band to success in the PVC Records project, his future might literally involve grazing grass in the median strip.
Tokyo's greenery was relatively clean and hygienic, sure—but that didn't mean he wanted to eat grass again.
Still, even with the pressure building in his heart, he chose not to tell the girls in the band.
For one, it was his goal—not theirs and forcing that burden on others would just feel like emotional blackmail.
For another, Aoki believed in them.
He trusted that even without knowing the full picture, they would give their best, striving for improvement on their own.
And so, after Nijika's thoughtful hesitation and consideration, Aoki officially joined Kessoku Band with one clear objective:
[Enter the PVC project and make a mark.]
And then— He ran into his first real challenge within the band.
While he wanted to jump into focused practice and tighten their musical coordination, reality wasn't so forgiving.
Aside from Ryou and Bocchi, who had decent technical skill, the rest of the members were... rough, to say the least.
Kita-san, for instance, still struggled with some very basic guitar concepts.
And while Bocchi had skill, her coordination with the rest of the group was weak, which made it hard for her to fully shine.
So, diving into full-band sessions immediately wasn't going to work.
Instead...
"...Kita-san, look, I get that everyone has their own finger positions, but the way you're holding it right now is just... not it."
"Bocchi-san, come on out of the box, will you? Let's at least try practicing together?"
"No, wait—Kita-san, this version of your finger positioning is worse than the last one—how did that happen?"
"Hey... Yamada-san. Stop snickering over there."
"..."
And so, on May 28th, carrying a quiet suspicion that maybe he'd made a terrible mistake, Aoki stepped into the wonderfully chaotic routine of being in Kessoku Band.
Later that evening, after a short practice session just before STARRY closed for the night, Aoki packed up his guitar.
The others had already left, but since Nijika and the manager both lived just above the livehouse, they were still around even as night settled in.
After wiping down the guitar and securing it in its case, Aoki slung the strap over his shoulder.
He nodded a quick goodbye to Nijika and Seika and stepped outside.
It was late May, approaching June.
The days were getting warmer, even if the evenings were still pleasant.
A few days earlier, after transferring to Shuchiin High School, he'd swapped out his old long-sleeved spring uniform for a cooler, short-sleeved summer one.
Thanks to that, the summer breeze felt especially refreshing tonight.
Under the soft, warm glow of the streetlamps, Aoki walked through the streets of Shimokitazawa with his guitar on his back.
He let out a deep breath something between relief and mental prep.
Then, just as he passed a vending machine, a familiar voice called out behind him.
"Aoki-senpai! Wait—!"
He turned instinctively and saw Nijika jogging toward him from the entrance of STARRY.
Slightly out of breath, she reached him and held out a small object.
"Um, Aoki-senpai... you left your wallet at the venue."
Ah—right.
He must've left it there after giving Ryou her "friendship fee." He hadn't noticed while packing up.
Surprised but grateful, he took the wallet with a nod and said, "Thanks. That really helps."
"No need to thank me for something like this…" Nijika shook her head, smiling—but then paused.
She looked like she wanted to say something more.
A brief silence followed before she finally spoke up, a hint of concern in her voice.
"Um… Aoki-senpai, joining Kessoku Band… won't it get in the way of other things you have going on?"
"In the way?"
Hearing that, Aoki Kei blinked—then immediately understood.
She was worried.
Worried that his sudden decision to join the band might throw his life off balance.
This girl… She really was too kind for her own good.
Always thinking from a friend's perspective.
Always aware of how others might feel. Always noticing the things no one else did.
Aoki Kei couldn't help but be quietly moved.
He shook his head slightly.
"I know how to balance the band and the important stuff. So no—joining Kessoku Band won't get in the way of anything."
It was for that exact reason that he didn't want to tell her about the pressure he was under.
Nijika had her own dreams—dreams of making a name for herself with her bandmates.
So much so, in fact, that she took everyone else's dreams and piled them onto her own shoulders.
To her, it didn't matter how big or small her own goals were—she believed that helping everyone else achieve theirs came first.
Only then could they move forward together.
That sort of responsibility came with its own weight.
And so, Aoki took a breath.
He opened the wallet Nijika had returned, pulled out two bills, and before she could say anything—looked at the vending machine.
"Orange soda okay? Looks like they have a ton of flavors."
The topic shift was so sudden that Nijika blinked in confusion.
"Eh? …Ah. Um, sure. Thanks, Aoki-senpai."
Without replying, Aoki fed the bills into the vending machine and picked out two bottles of juice soda.
After handing one to her, he added:
"You have to keep your real life and your band life separate. Once you've figured out the line between them, all that's left is to work hard.
No point dragging the pressure from one side into the other."
He popped the tab on his drink and took a moment before continuing.
"Overthinking things just ends up hurting you. And a band... it should be fun. As long as everyone's having fun together, that's what matters most."
He tilted his head back and took a long gulp from the bottle.
Looking back at Nijika's face, bathed in the soft neon light from the vending machine, he realized how hollow his words might sound, especially coming from him.
Because, let's be honest:
Now that he'd joined Kessoku Band and committed to the idea of making a living through music, saying "the band just needs to be fun" was borderline hypocritical.
His priority was success.
Money and results.
He wanted the band to be about fun—but if he failed, grass would be back on the menu in two months.
Still—
Even so, just like he'd decided from the start, he didn't want to burden anyone else with his problems.
So he said it anyway.
Rather than sharing the pressure with this kind, caring girl, he wanted Nijika to be able to enjoy her time in the band.
Holding her orange soda, listening to him quietly, Nijika blinked a few times.
Then she nodded and said softly, "Thanks, Aoki-senpai. I understand."
He knew three or four sentences couldn't magically change someone's mindset.
And he didn't expect her to just shake off her worries about "the band's shared dream" right away.
But for now—that was enough.
The soft neon glow of the vending machine shimmered across Nijika's face.
Looking at her, Aoki gave a small nod and said,
"Well, I'll head home then. You should too, Nijika."