Kita Ikuyo, who happened to be in the same class as Ishikawa Hayabusa, still hadn't come back to her senses even after the lesson ended.
That declaration of his—far more independent than any declaration of independence—was something beyond independence altogether. It was as if he had transcended humanity itself, only to begin rejecting it.
That handsome boy practically had the words self and ego etched across his face.
And, just as she had expected, once class was over, not a single student dared to approach Ishikawa Hayabusa.
This was the best possible time to build connections with classmates, and yet he remained completely unfazed at being left alone. Resting his chin on one hand, he scribbled occasional notes into his notebook, eyes narrowed in deep thought.
The clear, dazzling blue sky framed him through the classroom window, the sunlight so bright it blurred the silhouettes of everyone else—but not him. His presence remained crisp and defined, untouched by the light.
His posture was upright, his long legs stretched forward casually. He was so absorbed in thought that even his eyelashes stayed perfectly still. When he wasn't writing, his long, slender fingers absentmindedly brushed at the strands of hair falling across his forehead.
"Kita-chan, Kita-chan."
A friend leaned over, calling her back to reality.
Kita Ikuyo blinked, then quickly put on her usual cheerful smile."Sorry, I spaced out for a second."
"That guy's… not looking too good," her fashionable gyaru-classmate teased. "Don't tell me, Kita-chan—you're the type who only cares about looks?"
Another girl sitting nearby, fingers tapping rapidly across her phone screen, glanced up with a mix of disbelief and surprise."But I heard he's actually a special recruit brought in by the school. Supposedly, he scored in the national top ten on the entrance exams, and even won a gold medal at middle school track-and-field competitions. Look."
She shoved her phone toward the other two.
Kita Ikuyo and the gyaru leaned in. Sure enough—there he was. A photo of Ishikawa Hayabusa holding up a medal, wearing a faint, almost detached smile.
"Ehh… so you're saying smart people always have something wrong in their heads?" the gyaru muttered, unable to help herself.
Kita Ikuyo laughed, waving a hand as if brushing away the jab."That's so mean. You should apologize to all the other smart people out there."
…
It wasn't until the class had naturally split itself into a few clear groups that Ishikawa Hayabusa finally noticed her—Kita Ikuyo—glowing at the center of one of those groups, her smile effortlessly lighting up those around her.
But he had no plans to interact with her for now. With such a disastrous first impression, his only option was to focus on himself. If he was excellent enough on his own, the rest would follow.
Besides, he had bigger priorities to think about: the band.
Lead guitar, rhythm guitar, bass, drums. He'd just finished looking up the typical band setup. Apparently, some groups also had keyboards. Strange—why didn't Kessoku Band have one?
From what he read, keyboards could replicate all sorts of sounds, even substitute for other instruments.
No, you couldn't form a whole band with just a keyboardist, but it was still fascinating.
His interest was piqued.
After school, he'd ask around—see if a complete beginner could join.
Wasn't there supposed to be a member who couldn't even tell the difference between a bass and a guitar? Compared to that, he wouldn't be out of place at all.
At the very least, he wasn't dumb enough to confuse the two. They might look similar, but he'd make sure he knew the difference.
Because—He'd ask the shop clerk.
…
The final bell rang, and the first day of high school drew to a close.
Students the same age quickly formed their own little groups, creating safe havens through shared topics. Laughing and chattering, they scattered toward cafes, karaoke boxes, and arcades.
And Ishikawa Hayabusa? As expected, not a single person spoke to the boy who had introduced himself as a pervert.
Which suited him just fine.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and prepared to head to Shimokitazawa. Maybe, just maybe, he'd run into the members of Kessoku Band there.
"Ishikawa-kun, can you come to the staff room for a moment?"
At that exact moment, his homeroom teacher—who had clearly been wrestling with something all day—stood at the doorway, beckoning him with an awkward expression.
Hayabusa strolled over unhurriedly.
"I'm terribly sorry, sensei, but I already have plans after this. Could we talk tomorrow during the lunch break instead?"
His voice carried a note of polite apology, but not a trace of it showed on his face. His calm, measured tone only gave off an air of self-possession.
"Ah… yes, that's fine," the teacher stammered, clearly overpowered by his presence. He nodded quickly before retreating down the hall.
Hayabusa's gaze lingered on the man's back a moment longer.If he remembered correctly, that teacher's name was Ishida Hane—barely a few years out of university himself.
…
Shimokitazawa.
A place overflowing with individuality and freshness. Antique shops, second-hand clothing stores, quirky little specialty shops—it was a marketplace of creativity in full bloom.
As Hayabusa entered the neighborhood, he noticed more and more people carrying instruments. Many dressed with an artistic flair. And, since it was right after school, there were plenty of students among them too.
The sight made him restless.
Hold it together, my inner pervert. You can't explode here—not when you're about to meet several girls for the first time! If you break now, everything's ruined.
Just make it past this alley… then you'll be there.
Before coming, Hayabusa had already looked up the location of the venue called Starry. Operating for five or six years now, this livehouse had built a solid reputation as a place run with genuine heart.
Exiting the alley, he spotted a descending staircase by the side of a tall building. That was the place.
But he didn't go down yet.
He knew Starry's official opening time was 5 p.m., and the clock hadn't even struck four yet.
So he leaned against a wall by the street, scrolling through his phone for more band-related knowledge, waiting for the inevitable appearance of two—or perhaps just one—particular people.
The early spring breeze still carried a chill, but within that coolness drifted faint echoes of guitar riffs, bursts of youthful laughter, and the subtle promise of something new.
It wasn't long before a woman with golden hair and red eyes passed by, dressed in a black base layer and striped pants. She cast him a brief, indifferent glance before heading straight down the staircase without another word.
A little while later—
"…We should ask my sister to help us post the flyers. I can't help feeling excited. What kind of person will show up, I wonder?"
"Mm. Hopefully someone interesting."
Hayabusa lifted his head.
Not far away, a blonde girl with a dazzling smile held up a flyer as she chatted excitedly with another girl—her shoulder-length blue hair and androgynous beauty making her stand out just as much.
Interesting, huh?
Hayabusa thought it over, then nodded to himself.
No one in this world was more interesting than him—at least, not in terms of sheer perversity.
Finally. They were here. Which meant his story, his youth, could finally begin.
Straightening his back, he patted his shoulders lightly, then strode directly toward the two girls.
"Excuse me—I overheard you talking about recruiting members…"
Halfway through his sentence, he realized the two hadn't actually specified what kind of members. He glanced at the bass slung over the blue-haired girl's back and corrected himself smoothly:"You mean band members, right?"
"That was fast!"
Ijichi Nijika gasped in surprise. She hadn't even posted the flyer yet.
She shot a quick look at Yamada Ryo beside her.
Ryo, eyes calm and unreadable, gave Hayabusa a single glance."…Guitarist?"
Hayabusa caught her meaning instantly. With a smile, he shook his head.
"I'm a complete beginner. I was thinking of aiming for keyboard. I want to learn properly, and I thought joining a band would be the best way to really understand the atmosphere."
"Keyboard, huh… starting with no foundation is going to be tough," Ryo murmured, shaking her head slightly—but she didn't outright refuse.
Seeing that Ryo wasn't against the idea, Nijika's smile returned. She clapped her hands lightly together, bright as ever."Well then—don't just stand out here. Let's talk inside Starry."a