Shirasagi Residence
May 31, 2021 – Monday – 6:00 A.M.
Chisato's POV
Following my meeting with Aya-chan and the others, I decided to check my social media account before heading to bed. I wanted to see what people were saying about that photo—the photo everyone had been talking about since yesterday.
To my surprise, nearly half of the comments recognized Riku's identity. It was comforting in a way, knowing that there were still people out there who understood and respected him for who he was. But that sense of relief didn't last long. The other half... were not so kind. Some posts twisted the story, accusing me and Riku of being "inappropriate," even dragging Aya-chan and the others into it. It made my stomach tighten.
I'd already notified the agency that I would explain everything today. They agreed to wait for my statement before making any official comments. Still, the thought of facing the press made me uneasy.
Now, it's Monday morning, and the faint sunlight streaming through my curtains tells me I've survived another restless night. I push the covers aside and stretch before heading to the bathroom for a quick shower, trying to wash away the anxiety clinging to me.
By the time I finish, the clock on my dresser reads 6:30. I slip into my school uniform, brush my hair neatly, and grab my bass case along with my bag. My reflection in the mirror looks calm enough—but I can still see the faint tension behind my own eyes.
Downstairs, the familiar scent of breakfast greets me.
"Good morning, Mom, Dad. Where's Miya?" I ask as I step into the kitchen.
"Good morning, my dear," Mom replies warmly while flipping an omelet in the pan. "Take a seat, breakfast will be ready soon."
Dad lowers his newspaper slightly, offering a small smile. "Come, sit down. Your sister's still asleep. She'll wake up later—she was up all night again, wasn't she?"
"Probably editing her video again," I mutter, taking a seat at the table.
The television hums softly in the background, tuned to the morning news. My hand freezes midair as I glance at the screen. The photo of me and Riku at the Tōtsuki Resort flashes across it, accompanied by commentary from an overly cheerful anchor. My chest tightens.
They really caught on that fast...
Dad exhales through his nose, a faint scowl forming. "Good grief. These people really have nothing better to do."
"Dad..." I mumble, embarrassed but grateful for his quiet anger.
He folds the paper and looks at me gently. "Don't worry, dear. Your mother and I know exactly what's going on. What I'm more concerned about is how the Nagae family will handle this."
"That's what I said to Aya-chan yesterday," I reply softly.
"So," he continues, "you discussed it with your band. What's your plan for now?"
"We've decided to go to the agency after school to clarify everything. For now, we've also canceled our booking at CiRCLE. It's better to keep things quiet until the storm settles."
Dad nods slowly, thoughtful. "That's a logical decision. I trust you to handle this?"
"I'll try," I say, forcing a small smile. "I need to resolve this before Riku gets involved. He already has too much on his plate—I don't want to add to it."
Mom places a plate before me—a perfectly shaped white-yolk omelet beside fresh greens and turkey bacon, paired with a tall glass of orange juice.
"You really care for your big brother," she says softly. "Here you go, dear. Make sure you finish it."
"Thank you very much." I clasp my hands together. "Itadakimasu."
The taste of Mom's cooking steadies my thoughts. For a few moments, the world feels quiet again.
Hanasakigawa Girls High School – 7:20 A.M.
After breakfast, I received a message from Yuyuko-san asking me to meet her in her office before the start of classes. Her tone was polite, but direct. That usually meant something important.
I asked Dad if he could drive me to school, and he agreed without hesitation. The ride was calm, just the soft hum of the car and the faint sound of morning radio. I stared out the window, watching the sunlight spill over the rooftops. Everything looked so normal outside—nothing like the chaos playing out online.
As the car slowed to a stop at the school's front gate, Dad turned to me. "Well, we're here. Take care of yourself, dear."
"I will. And good luck with work today," I replied, offering him a quick smile before stepping out.
He nodded once, and then the car pulled away. I turned—and nearly jumped when I saw Youmu standing right by the entrance, as calm as ever.
"You arrived early," she said, her tone even. "Yuyuko-sama is expecting you."
I adjusted the strap of my bag and nodded. "Do you know why she called me?"
"That, I cannot say," she replied as we began walking down the hallway. "Yuyuko-sama didn't tell me anything. But you'll know soon enough."
Her footsteps were quiet, almost inaudible, against the polished floor. My heartbeat, however, wasn't.
When we reached Yuyuko-san's office, Youmu opened the door with practiced grace. Inside, the atmosphere was calm—but my breath hitched when I saw who was already there.
Aya-chan. Eve-chan. And... Riku.
He sat beside Yuyuko-san, calm but unreadable, his presence alone steadying and tense all at once.
"You've finally arrived, Chisato-chan~" Yuyuko-san greeted with her usual lilting tone. "Youmu, close the door and stand by. Chisato-chan, take a seat."
"Yes, Yuyuko-sama."
Youmu closed the door behind me and stationed herself by it, silent as stone. I took the open seat beside Aya-chan, who gave me a small, reassuring nod.
Yuyuko folded her hands on the desk and smiled faintly, but there was a sharpness behind her eyes—one that told me this wasn't just another casual talk.
"Now that we're all here," she said softly, her voice carrying authority despite its calmness, "let's discuss some very important matters."
A hush filled the room. I could feel Eve-chan shifting slightly beside me, Aya-chan holding her breath, and Riku's calm gaze lingering just long enough to remind me he was listening closely.
Whatever this meeting was about—it wasn't just the photo anymore.
Something bigger was coming.
Riku's POV
Me and my big mouth. The thought hit me before the door shut behind the girls—sharp, useless, and exactly the sort of thing that lingered when I wanted it not to. I'd muttered something about trouble, and trouble had a way of eavesdropping on idle remarks. Now someone had a camera, and worse, someone had a keyboard. A photo of Chisato and me at Tōtsuki Resort had gone online and life took that as an invitation to invent drama.
The room hummed with a polite, papered calm. Yuyuko-san's office always smelled faintly of tea and cedar, a steadiness that made crises feel smaller somehow. The others had left with polite bows and determined faces; Aya-chan and Eve still looked like they could take on an army if need be. Chisato had that look she gets when she's thinking too deeply—her chin tucked to her chest, hands folded, the tiny line between her brows deeper than usual.
"Is it about that post?" Chisato asked, voice low.
Yuyuko-san's smile was small, professional. "Looks like you're already aware. Do you have any plans regarding the incident?"
Eve answered before Chisato could: "Chisato-san will explain everything to the agency after school. We've canceled our bookings at CiRCLE for the next few days."
Hatate had already been efficient; the world of managers and assistants ran on preemptive fire drills. I'd been notified, naturally. The life of public figures ensures that no one is surprised alone.
"It's no surprise Hatate told me you canceled," I said. "Still, an acceptable plan. Explaining things to your agency is solid—but whether they'll accept it is another matter."
Chisato's jaw flexed. "Exactly. That's why, if it's alright with you, could you come with us to the agency?"
I wanted to. My instinct was to clear whatever fog had settled over her name with blunt force—show up, be the steady face that scuttles rumors. But my schedule this week had already been stapled to itself by commitments: meetings, appearances, a dinner at CiRCLE I couldn't reschedule. I owed people time. I owed them answers.
"I would love to," I said honestly, and because honesty often sounds harsher to the one asking, I added, "but I can't. I have guests to entertain later at CiRCLE."
Chisato exhaled a small, disappointed sound. "Oh."
"Don't get too down," I tried to soften. "I might visit if I have time."
"That is more than enough, Riku-kun," Aya-chan cut in, practical as ever.
I met Aya-chan's gaze and let out a small breath. "Then I expect you girls resolve this cleanly."
Chisato blinked, eyes wide. "Eh? Riku, you're not going to get involved?"
Yuyuko-san's expression softened; years and experience had made her a quiet judge of capability. "If it were in the past, he might have. But right now, with a busy schedule, it's unlikely."
"If you need any help," I said, naming Hatate and Aya, "ask them. As things stand, those two are your best option."
Chisato looked down into herself—into that private catalog of what-ifs and might-bes. Aya-chan and Eve spoke to her quietly, offering logistics and support; their voices were small boats in her tide of thought, but she did not answer. I watched the familiar ritual: her shoulders rising as she weighs responsibility against what she can ask of others.
"It's fine," she finally said, steady but brittle. "Five days should be enough. I considered every possible outcome. I'll ask Hatate and Ayaya for assistance if necessary."
"Have you really considered everything?" I asked without offense. "Okay. I'll let you do what you must. Aya-chan, Eve—help Chisato in every way possible. And later, explain it to Maya and Hina. They need to hear it from someone who understands."
"You can count on us, Riku-kun!" Aya-chan's vow was quick and fierce.
"On my honor," Eve declared, and then, with an enthusiastic bark of confidence, "I will provide Chisato-san any help she needs! For that is the way of the Bushidō!!" She finished with a grin so earnest it made the room feel lighter.
Yuyuko-san folded her hands, the meeting concluding as neatly as it had been arranged. "Now that's settled, girls—please go on. Riku-kun, I'd like a word."
They left with small bows, the door clicking shut behind them. The silence that remained somehow held more meaning than the bustle that had filled the space moments before.
"So," Yuyuko-san said, directing her practiced calm toward me. "What's your honest opinion on it all?"
I could have given a complicated answer—about media cycles, about parasitic speculation, about the calculated cruelty of social feeds—but there was a simpler truth. "It's stupid," I said. "A lot of bored people making a mountain out of nothing. If I hadn't had plans, I would have stepped in. But I trust Chisato to handle this."
Yuyuko-san's eyes lingered on me, assessing. "I see that you trust Chisato-chan that much."
"I trust her," I said, and meant it. The way she faced everything—her music, the band, responsibility—had taught me she could navigate the uglier corners of the industry. "Another reason I'm holding back is to observe. Especially her. I don't want to take away the moment she needs to prove herself."
She smiled then, a flash of approval in the curve of her lips. "I see. Very well. Be careful going back."
"I will." I stood, readied to go—then remembered something. "Oh, before I forget—Gin-san invited you to dinner tonight."
Yuyuko-san's composure faltered for the first time; a color rose under her calm like sunlight under paper. "Eh?"
I left details unspoken, a message to follow. "I'll send you the details later. I'm outta here." I moved out, leaving her in the soft afterglow of something both small and oddly bright.
Yuyuko's POV
The moment the door closed, the room felt a size smaller—like someone had taken out the air itself. I stood and smoothed my skirt without thinking, replaying the conversation where Gin's name floated into my day like a pebble dropped in a still pond.
Gin. It had been years; schedules had been cruel and time—busier still. That name carried a map of memories: long conversations over weak tea, the way he listened like he could pluck regrets out of the air and rearrange them into something sensible. A dinner with him should be ordinary. Instead, his invitation felt like a small rebellion.
"Youmu," I asked when she returned, "what's my schedule for the rest of the day?"
"You're free after your board meeting at nine," Youmu replied, efficient and unfazed. She tilted her head minutely. "Shall I prepare anything?"
"No." I shook my head, unable to keep the smile from slipping out. "I can handle it."
Youmu bowed and left, and I settled back into the chair, feeling oddly giddy. A blush crept up my neck—embarrassing, and yet warming. "A dinner with Gin... ufufufu~," I said to no one. The sound was small and private, and I liked it.
My phone dinged then, a sharp counterpoint. I picked it up, fingers practiced, and almost dropped it when I read Riku's message: "No sweets for you for another month. Gin-san filled me in on the details."
I nearly laughed and nearly cried all at once. Gin had outed me to Riku like a conspirator who'd lost his poker face. "Damn it, Gin. You snitched on me," I hissed in mock outrage.
Youmu had returned mid-sentence, observing my reaction with the same dry constancy she always had. Her expression was flat in the exact way that made my theatrics feel less dramatic. "I told you you'd get caught regardless," she stated.
"No matter," I said, and the blush spread deeper. I placed my phone down and leaned back, letting the room hold me. The day suddenly felt like a string of appointments to be colored in—meetings, a board gathering, and perhaps, if things aligned, a dinner that had the potential to be more than a meal.
I tapped out a brief reply to Riku—polite, teasing, purposeful—and sent it. Then I folded my hands on the desk and let the slow, steady rhythm of work settle over me. There were minutes to manage, people to reassure, and a small, private excitement that made the rest of the day seem softer around the edges.
Tonight, I told myself, I would wring Gin dry tonight. I smiled at that, and the smile stuck.
----------
Hanasakigawa Girls High School Rooftop – 12:30 P.M.
Riku's POV
After the meeting with Yuyuko-san, I went back to class, hoping for a quiet morning. No such luck. The moment I stepped through the door, my classmates pounced—each one armed with a question about that photo.
Apparently, word had spread fast. Someone online had tagged the picture of me and Chisato at the Tōtsuki Resort, and within hours, it became the talk of the school. Some assumed we were dating; others were just curious. I spent the next ten minutes explaining that Kokoro and Rinko were with us too, and that it was simply a reunion among childhood friends. Once that sank in, most of them relaxed. Still, Rinko, Sayo, and Kanon looked uneasy. They understood better than anyone that a rumor like this could harm not only Chisato's career but mine as well.
Chisato, ever the calm one, reassured them that she'd handle everything through the agency. That seemed to settle the matter for now.
Lunch came quickly. The sky was soft and clear, and the rooftop breeze felt clean against my face—a small reminder that not all storms came from the sky. Most of the girls had gathered there with me, save for Remi, Flan, and Sakuya-san, who had been invited to lunch by Yuyuko-san herself. Mafuyu had been pulled aside by the archery club for an informal meet-and-greet, and with my permission, she went along. That left me with the remaining band members—Kasumi, Tae, Arisa, Saaya, Sayo, Rinko, Hagumi, Kanon, Misaki, Aya-chan, Eve, and Chisato.
The chatter was light. Sandwich wrappers rustled, laughter came and went like waves, and for a short while, everything felt normal. But Kokoro wasn't joining in. She sat quietly beside me, eyes lowered toward the courtyard below, her usually bright aura strangely subdued.
"You want to tell them, right?" I asked, lowering my voice so only she could hear.
Kokoro's hand trembled slightly when I reached for it. She nodded, hesitant but certain.
"It's okay," I told her. "I'll help if you need it."
She gave another small nod, then took a breath and stood. Her voice, when it came, was steady enough to command everyone's attention.
"Everyone! I have something to tell you!"
The conversations died instantly.
Kanon tilted her head. "Is something wrong, Kokoro-chan?"
Rinko and Chisato exchanged a knowing glance—both of them already aware of what was about to happen.
"Is it okay for her to say it here?" Rinko whispered to me.
"Don't worry," I murmured back. "I set up a barrier earlier."
Chisato looked at me, doubtful. "Are you sure?"
I gave a small nod, my eyes on Kokoro.
"The truth is..." Kokoro started, voice shaking slightly. "I've been hiding something from all of you."
"Hiding something?" Arisa repeated, frowning.
Kokoro didn't answer right away. Instead, she lifted her right hand. A bright orb of light—roughly the size of a basketball—flared into existence above her palm.
The girls gasped.
"Whoa!" Kasumi exclaimed, nearly dropping her bento box.
"So bright..." Tae muttered, squinting against the light.
"You can use... magic?" Arisa's voice cracked halfway through the sentence.
"This is awesome, Kokoron!" Hagumi cheered, eyes wide in delight.
Misaki sighed. "Why am I not surprised?"
I glanced at her. "You seem to take it pretty well, Misaki."
"I had a hunch," she said, folding her arms. "Kokoro's been clinging to you since day one. I figured something supernatural was involved."
"A fair assumption," I said, lips quirking. "But there's more to it than that."
Kanon stepped closer, curious. "Can you do something else, Kokoro-chan?"
Kokoro nodded. "Yup. In fact... I want to introduce someone to all of you."
Her eyes fluttered shut. The light in her palm dimmed, and her body sagged slightly, as though her energy had been pulled inward.
"Kokoro?" Misaki bent down and shook her shoulder lightly. "Are you oka—"
"Stop shaking me, damn it."
The voice was the same, yet completely different—rougher, lower, threaded with a confidence that Kokoro didn't usually carry.
Misaki froze, releasing her grip. Kokoro's eyes snapped open—no longer their usual golden hue, but shadowed and dark.
"K-Kokoro-chan?" Kanon stammered.
"I'm not Kokoro," she said flatly. "Call me Shinzo. I'm what you'd call Kokoro's... alter ego."
Aya-chan blinked. "A split personality?!"
Arisa threw her hands up. "How did that even happen?"
"The moment Kokoro awakened her magic," I explained, "Shinzo came into existence. Think of it as a natural balance—light and dark sharing one vessel."
Eve nodded solemnly. "Ah. Like harmony within the yin and yang."
"Pretty much," Shinzo replied, cracking a faint smirk. "Kokoro controls light, and I control darkness. But don't mistake me for being 'evil.' I'm just the balance she needs. And since 'nii' trusts you all, I'll trust you too."
Kasumi tilted her head. "Nii?"
"Kokoro calls me 'onii-chan,'" I clarified. "Shinzo just shortens it."
Shinzo chuckled. "Can't stand the extra syllables." Then her gaze softened as she turned toward Kokoro's bandmates. "Hagumi, Kanon, Misaki—I want you to stay close to her. I know she's a handful sometimes... but she needs people like you."
Misaki raised an eyebrow. "No need to ask. She drives me insane half the time, but I wouldn't replace her for the world."
Kanon smiled shyly. "I agree with Misaki-chan. We'll stay with her, no matter what."
"Me too!" Hagumi said brightly.
Shinzo's grin widened. "Heh. Figures." But even as she smiled, her form began to flicker around the edges, her voice thinning slightly. "Guess my time's up. I'll give Kokoro back the wheel."
Her body relaxed, and after a heartbeat, Kokoro blinked her eyes open again—golden once more.
"So," she asked cheerfully, "how was it?"
Misaki sighed with relief. "You scared the hell out of me. Does Shinzo just... pop up anytime?"
"Nope," Kokoro said, shaking her head. "She only shows up if something bad's happening."
I nodded. "I'm glad you girls aren't afraid of her. But just one thing—don't call Shinzo 'chan.'"
Saaya chuckled. "She doesn't like honorifics, huh?"
"Not at all," I said, smiling faintly.
Sayo crossed her arms. "Onto another matter... Riku-san, about that photo with Shirasagi-san?"
Kasumi perked up instantly. "Yeah! What are you gonna do about it, senpai?"
"Nothing for now," I replied. "My schedule's packed this week, and honestly, I don't need to step in. Chisato's already handling it."
Chisato, sitting nearby, gave a calm nod. "If everything goes as planned, we'll have nothing to worry about."
"Good," I said. "Then let's wrap this up. Class starts in a few minutes."
The girls began tidying the area, packing up boxes and bottles, tossing wrappers into the bin. The barrier I'd cast dissolved quietly as we moved toward the stairwell. I watched them laugh and chat again, the earlier tension fading like mist.
Chisato lingered for a moment beside me, her gaze distant.
"You're really letting me handle this alone," she said softly, almost to herself.
"Not alone," I corrected. "You've got your band, your friends, and your voice. That's more than most people get."
She smiled faintly. "You always know how to say things like that, don't you?"
"Force of habit."
Chisato exhaled slowly and adjusted her bag. "Then I'll make sure your trust isn't wasted."
"I don't doubt it for a second."
We started down the stairs together, our footsteps echoing faintly in the empty stairwell. The sun was still high, bright enough to cast long shadows on the walls—two shapes moving side by side, one sure, one thoughtful.
Somehow, that felt like the perfect picture.
----------
Live House CiRCLE — 3:30 P.M.
After class ended, I went straight to CiRCLE. I wanted to make sure everything was ready for the guests arriving today. Kasumi had messaged me earlier—she asked to move Poppin'Party's session to Wednesday. Saaya was busy at her family's bakery, and Arisa had to help her grandmother. HaroHapi also postponed their tea party to today, so Chisato, Aya, and Eve were already heading to their agency to settle that mess from this morning.
For now, it's just me at the front desk with Marina, who's going through next month's budget. Fuyu was with us too, lazing on the counter, tail flicking lazily. I had called Hatate earlier; an idea had been brewing in my head ever since the photo incident started spreading online.
"Hatate, are you free right now?" I asked as I leaned against the counter.
"I've got some time," she replied. "What do you need?"
"I'm sending you a link. Find anything useful from that thread and forward it to Chisato."
"To Chisato?" Her tone rose slightly. "Not you?"
"I've got my hands full here."
"Ah, right. You do have a live house to run," she said dryly. "Still, I want a raise for this. The thread you sent me is full of conspiracy junk—half the internet's having a field day shipping you and Chisato."
I rubbed my temple. "Fine. Half raise. If you finish it within two days, I'll double it—just don't brag about it to Aya."
Hatate laughed. "You know me too well. Two days? Please. I'll have it done before the day's over."
The line went dead after that, and I slipped my phone into my pocket just as the door swung open.
Johan and the boys stepped in, their voices echoing across the hall.
"Whistle. Damn, this place looks even better than the last time we were here," Johan said, eyes scanning the new interior.
"My grandfather oversaw the renovations while we were still in Stockholm," I explained. "Come on, I'll show you around while we wait for Dennojo-san and Peakey-P-key to arrive."
I turned to Marina. "Keep an eye on things here."
She nodded. "Got it."
With that, I scooped up Fuyu—who meowed in protest—and started giving the boys a quick tour of the revamped CiRCLE. The stage had new lighting rigs, the sound system was state-of-the-art, and the side lounge had been redone entirely, with walls lined by framed posters from every band that had performed here.
Thirty minutes later
By the time we returned to the front, Leo/need was there with Marina, chatting casually.
"You're here earlier than I expected," I said.
Ichika smiled. "Our schedule's free, so we came right away."
"Good timing."
Marina leaned over. "Riku, Saki-chan mentioned they wanted to work here, and you already approved, right?"
"Yeah. Starting today, Leo/need will be working part-time here." I looked to the girls. "Head to the changing room and put on your uniforms. Marina will show you the way."
Honami blinked. "Wait—uniforms?"
"Of course," I said simply. "And don't worry, I had someone handle your measurements beforehand. Once you're changed, meet me in my office. We'll go over your shifts."
They nodded and followed Marina down the hall. And right as they disappeared around the corner, the front doors opened again.
Dennojo-san stepped in—followed by Peakey-P-key.
And behind them—
"Aniki!!"
I turned, half a grin already forming. The red-haired boy waving enthusiastically at me was unmistakable.
"Good to see you in high spirits, Keigo," I said.
Horikawa Keigo—the heir to the Horikawa family, one of Japan's best young drummers, and a second-year at Yoba Academy. Despite his family's strict reputation, he always had that same spark in his eyes.
"Now, now, Kei-chan. You don't need to shout like that~" Esora told Keigo as the young man apologized.
"Sorry, Esora," he said, scratching his cheek. "But it's been forever since I last saw him. And I'm still a little salty I missed your performance here, Aniki."
"You know your duties come first," I reminded him, though my tone was softer than my words. "Don't worry—you'll have another chance to perform here with Peakey-P-key soon enough."
"Now, shall we get to business?" Dennojo-san cut in.
Right. The reason everyone was here.
"This is Mikhail Agatov," I said, gesturing to Misha, who gave a polite bow. "OG's current captain and keyboardist. I mentioned him in my earlier message, Dennojo-san."
The DJ veteran nodded. "You did. And you want me to drill him on the fundamentals in just three days, correct? If I recall, your group's building a DJ unit?"
Johan stepped forward. "That's right. But OG's DJ team is still green. We asked Riku to help, since, well... he learned from the best."
Dennojo-san gave a low hum, then turned his gaze back to Misha. "Understood. I'll train you—but don't expect me to go easy on you."
Misha only smiled faintly. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Good answer," Dennojo-san said, amused. "Then let's get started."
"You can use Studio 15," I told him. "It's already prepped."
He nodded once and led OG down the hall.
When the group had gone, Yuka turned to me. "And what about us?"
"If you want to practice here, I won't stop you. But before that—" my gaze shifted toward Shinobu, who had been leaning casually against the wall. "—I want a word with you."
Her brow rose slightly. "Oh? And what exactly do you want from me, Riku?"
"Nothing bad," I replied, walking past her. "Just a conversation. My office."
"Fine."
Kyoko crossed her arms. "Then who's watching the front while you two play executive and strategist?"
"Good point." I reached below the desk and lifted out a wicker basket. Placing it squarely on the counter, I picked up Fuyu and gently set her inside. Then, from under the desk, I pulled out a sign that read 'Temporarily in charge' and propped it up in front of her.
The girls just... stared. Shinobu groaned quietly, hand dragging down her face.
"Hey," I said, keeping my tone perfectly serious. "Fuyu may be a cat, but she understands human speech." I leaned closer to the basket. "Right, girl?"
"Nyaa."
"See?" I said, straightening up. "Now, Fuyu, hold the fort for a bit. Do well and I'll give you an extra brushing tonight."
She purred approvingly.
"...You're unbelievable," Kyoko muttered, but she was smiling faintly.
Shinobu sighed in defeat. "Fine. Let's go before your 'assistant manager' decides to start meowing at customers."
Keigo chuckled under his breath. "Same as ever, Aniki."
"Let's move."
The four of us—me, Shinobu, Keigo, and the rest of Peakey-P-key—headed down the corridor toward my office.
Live House CiRCLE — Riku's Office
The moment we entered my office, the girls stopped at the doorway. Their eyes wandered across the room, tracing the line of trophies, medals, and framed awards that filled the glass shelves and cabinet walls. It wasn't a brag—just a quiet record of where I've been. Still, I didn't say anything about it. I just moved to my chair and sat down.
Shinobu crossed her arms. "Alright, we're here. Talk."
"Straight to business, huh?" I leaned back slightly. "I want you to do something for me, Shinobu."
Her tone sharpened. "And what would that be?"
"This."
I rotated one of the monitors toward them and opened a file. The document glowed on screen—a set of neatly typed lyrics.
Kyoko tilted her head. "Is that... a lyric sheet?"
Esora leaned closer. "'Moonlit Festival'? Sounds poetic."
Keigo's eyes widened slightly. "Aniki, don't tell me—"
Shinobu stayed quiet for a long moment, her eyes scanning the text. Then she exhaled softly through her nose. "So. You want me to make the composition for this song." Her tone was even, measured. "What's in it for us?"
Typical Shinobu—never one to play along without a deal.
"That's what I want to ask you," I said calmly. "What does Peakey-P-key want in exchange?"
She glanced back at her teammates. Esora gave a shrug; Kyoko smirked. After a short silence, Shinobu sighed. "Fine. I'll take the offer. But on one condition."
"Name it."
"You'll host the Sunset Stage this July."
Keigo's head snapped up. "Shino, you know that's Aniki's busiest season."
I thought for a moment. "Depends on when it starts."
Esora answered before Shinobu could. "Usually right before summer break—mid-July."
I nodded slowly. "I can make that work. Alright, I'll host the event. As for Moonlit Festival, I'll perform it in September."
Shinobu gave a small approving smirk. "Good. I can arrange the music if I have the time."
"Then it's settled," I said, closing the file. "You girls can practice here if you want. Studio 12 is open—the same one you used last time."
"Perfect," Kyoko said, clapping her hands once. "Come on, girls. Keigo, you coming?"
He shook his head. "You go ahead. I'll catch up."
The Peakeys exchanged a glance, nodded, and slipped out the door, leaving me alone with Keigo.
I leaned back in my chair. "Alright, you've got that look on your face. What do you want to ask?"
Keigo hesitated, then spoke quietly. "Aniki... are you coming out of retirement already? Aichi-nii told me everything."
I sighed, resting my elbows on the desk. "That rumor spreads fast."
He stayed silent, waiting.
"I came back because Misha couldn't secure a visa. Russian citizenship issues. Without him, OG would've dropped to four members. If we replaced him with someone from another team, we'd lose ranking points in the PBC. Since I'm a part owner, the only workaround was for me to fill the slot myself. That way, OG keeps its points."
Keigo frowned slightly. "What about the others? Couldn't one of them step in?"
"They thought about it," I said. "Ceb was the backup choice, but he's focused on family. He's getting married in four months. That leaves just me." I let a small grin slip. "Besides, it didn't hurt showing off a little. Reminded the girls I can still steal the spotlight when I want to."
Keigo chuckled softly. "Fair enough. Sorry for doubting you, Aniki."
"No harm done."
He hesitated again, then asked, "When are you officially coming back to competitive?"
"I said on the podcast I'd return in a year or two." I shrugged. "But we'll see how things go. For now, I've got my hands full here."
He nodded, though he looked reluctant to leave.
"You should go," I said, my tone softening. "The others are waiting, and I have some work left."
Keigo stood and bowed his head slightly. "Alright. Sorry for bothering you."
"You're not a bother, not one bit," I said.
He smiled, that same earnest grin from when he was younger, and left the room.
The door had barely closed when another knock followed.
Ichika and the rest of Leo/need entered, now dressed in their new CiRCLE uniforms—a dark navy polo with the live house's logo stitched on the breast pocket, paired with fitted black pants. Clean, simple, and professional.
Saki spun once with a grin. "So, owner-san, how do we look?"
I gave a quick glance over them and answered bluntly, "Honestly? You girls look good. Especially you, Ichika."
"Eh?!" Ichika froze mid-step, her face turning red.
Before I could blink, my monitor flickered—and Miku's face popped up onscreen, animated arms folded in mock disapproval.
"Bad Riku!" she scolded. "You're teasing Ichika again!"
"I'm not!" I groaned.
Saki snickered. "Ooh, looks like someone's got a soft spot. Owner-san's got a thing for Ichika~."
"Saki!" Ichika yelped, covering her face.
Honami smirked slightly. "Now that you mention it, Riku does seem unusually calm whenever Ichika's around."
Shiho tilted her head, mock serious. "Suspicious behavior indeed."
I rubbed my temple. "Alright, enough. Let's focus."
The teasing lingered a moment longer before they finally settled down, taking their seats across the table.
"Good," I said, pulling up the shift schedule. "Now, about your assignments."
----------
Nagae Estate – 6:30 P.M.
After finalizing Leo/need's shift schedules for June, I took a few more minutes to brief them on how things run at CiRCLE. Each of them got an assignment that fit their strengths. Shiho partnered with Marina to handle instrument maintenance—her precision and quiet focus made her perfect for the role. Saki and Honami volunteered for the café, their bright energy a natural draw for customers. Ichika would rotate at the front desk alongside Aya and Marina, welcoming guests and assisting where needed, while Shiho would occasionally lend a hand if her main duties lightened up.
By the time we wrapped up, the air felt settled—everyone seemed to understand their rhythm. Not long after, Dennojo-san emerged from the studio with OG, his expression practically glowing. I didn't even need to ask, but I did anyway. He told me Misha had exceeded expectations—picking up his instructions with almost eerie precision, adapting several of Dennojo-san's own songs into fresh arrangements that surprised even the veteran composer. When he asked if they could book another session at CiRCLE tomorrow, I agreed immediately. It wasn't every day that Dennojo-san looked that satisfied.
Now, I was back home. Fuyu padded quietly behind me, her steps soft against the polished floors. Eiji-san stood at the entrance, waiting in his usual composed manner.
"Welcome home, Riku-sama."
"Eiji-san," I greeted, loosening my tie. "Where's Youmu?"
"Youmu-sama is attending her fencing lessons. You, however, have guests waiting for you."
"Guests?" I raised a brow. "Very well, take me to them."
He nodded and led me through the hallways, his pace steady. As we approached the living room, I caught sight of three figures—Chisato seated in the middle, a composed woman with long brown hair in a fitted suit beside her, and a man in his mid-fifties with light blue hair and calm eyes on her other side.
"Chisato," I said as I stepped in. "You're here. And these two?"
Chisato stood politely. "The one on my left is Koetsuji Akina, Pastel✽Palettes' manager. The man on my right is Endou Ryuichi, the agency's president."
"I see." I offered a small bow in greeting. "You may already know, but I'll introduce myself properly. I'm Nagae Riku, heir to the Nagae family and Chisato's childhood friend—her older brother in all but blood. I appreciate the care you've given her under your management."
Akina smiled lightly. "No need for thanks, Nagae-kun. We take care of our talent—it's only right, especially for someone like Chisato."
"Akina-san," Chisato interjected quickly, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. "Riku prefers being called by his first name. The family name makes him uncomfortable."
"Ah, I see." Akina chuckled apologetically. "My mistake, Riku. Old habits die hard."
"It's fine," I said. "Eiji-san, see that no one eavesdrops on this conversation. And take Fuyu to my room—I promised her a good brushing later."
"Understood." Eiji-san inclined his head and left, carrying out the quiet precautions that came naturally to him.
Once the door closed, I turned my attention back to the guests. "So," I began, "what's the agenda tonight?"
Ryuichi folded his hands calmly. "We wanted your opinion on today's events—regarding the situation between you and Chisato."
"Ah, that." I leaned back in my seat. "I told Chisato I'd leave it in her hands. I'd like to help personally, but my schedule this week is completely booked."
Ryuichi nodded, his expression one of understanding. "Yes, Chisato mentioned that. Still, we felt it necessary to come ourselves—to ensure we weren't imposing."
"Understandable," I said. "Though I'm curious—why come all the way here if she already explained everything?"
Akina answered this time. "Chisato told us the details, yes. But for documentation's sake, we'd like your statement directly. If you're comfortable with it, may we record this conversation as part of our report?"
"Of course," I said easily. "I don't mind."
"Thank you, Riku-kun," Ryuichi said with a slight bow.
"If it's for my adorable little Chi-chan," I said, a faint grin tugging at my lips, "then it's no trouble at all."
Chisato's reaction was immediate—her face flushed bright pink. "O-Onii-sama! I told you not to call me that!"
"Why not?" I teased. "It suits you."
"Mou! Onii-sama no baka!" she muttered under her breath, trying to hide her embarrassment while Akina and Ryuichi exchanged amused glances.
"Perhaps," Akina said tactfully, "we should begin before this derails further?"
"Right," I said, chuckling. "Let's start."
They began their questions, most of which revolved around my relationship with Chisato and the other members of Pastel*Palettes. I kept my answers straightforward, giving them the truth without embellishment. There was no point in pretending or filtering anything—they needed clarity, and I owed Chisato that much.
The interview stretched for about half an hour. By the end of it, the air had softened; both Akina and Ryuichi looked visibly pleased.
Ryuichi closed his notebook and smiled faintly. "Thank you, Riku-kun. You've confirmed everything Chisato told us. It's reassuring to see she wasn't exaggerating."
"I'm glad to hear that," I said, standing. "If you're satisfied, allow me to—"
"No need," Ryuichi interrupted gently. "We know how busy you are. We'll see ourselves out."
"Very well," I said. "Still, do be careful on your way back. You already have my number—if anything comes up, call me. I'll help however I can."
Eiji-san reappeared right on cue, as if summoned by instinct. "I'll escort them out, Riku-sama."
"Good," I replied with a nod.
He guided them through the hall as I watched them go. Chisato turned briefly at the doorway, smiling softly before following her colleagues out.
When the estate finally fell quiet again, I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. The day had been long but productive, each conversation tying off another loose thread. I left the living room and made my way upstairs, the familiar rhythm of my footsteps echoing faintly against the polished floors.
Fuyu was already waiting in my room when I opened the door, sitting patiently beside the dresser. Her fur shimmered faintly under the warm light, the soft flick of her tail betraying her excitement.
"Alright, alright," I murmured, setting aside my coat and grabbing the brush from the shelf. "A promise is a promise."
She gave a low, contented rumble as I began brushing her coat—long, even strokes that made her lean into my touch. The day's tension eased with each motion, replaced by the quiet hum of domestic calm.
By the time I was done, the sun had set beyond the estate's walls, painting the room in hues of gold and violet. Fuyu curled up beside my desk, eyes half-lidded, while I sat back in my chair, watching the last streaks of daylight fade.
Sometimes, I thought, peace came in simple forms—a quiet house, a loyal companion, and the brief lull between storms.
Riku's Room – 8:30 P.M.
Riku's POV
Hours had passed since Chisato and her employers left the estate. I'd spent the time quietly—just me, Fuyu, and the hum of a calm evening. She stretched out beside me as I brushed her fur, the soft rhythm of her purring filling the room. There was something grounding about it—simple, steady, real. When she finally padded off to her bed and curled up, I tidied up and joined Mafuyu and Tina for dinner.
Grandfather wasn't home; he'd gone out to dine with some old acquaintances. That left the three of us sharing an unusually quiet meal, broken only by Tina's attempts to bring up odd bits of gossip she'd picked up at CiRCLE. Mafuyu laughed politely, I smiled when I could. Afterward, I took a quick shower, letting the heat wash away the day's static before returning to my room.
The desk light cast a soft glow across the papers I'd left earlier. A single, lonely stack.
"Huh," I muttered, settling into my chair. "Grandfather really wasn't kidding when he said he'd cut down my workload. Didn't expect this much, though."
Normally, I'd be staring down two or three piles of paperwork, maybe more if there'd been new directives from the clan or CiRCLE's board. But tonight, it was just one. I flipped through the sheets, scanning the familiar headers—planning notes for the Gensokyo Grand Festival we'd scheduled for next year, and early coordination documents for The International, which Japan was set to host in five months. Both were massive undertakings.
I opened my laptop and checked my inbox for any new correspondence. There was a reply from Genji-san—Tenshi's father and head of the Hinanawi Family. His message was brief but decisive: "The Celestial Families will assume full responsibility for The International. Authorization from both the Prime Minister and His Majesty has been secured."
I leaned back in my chair, exhaling. "So, we're running it top to bottom... great. This summer's gonna be hellishly busy."
A pause, then a faint smirk. "Still, maybe I can sneak in Shinobu's little request somewhere between the chaos."
Just as I began jotting down a few scheduling notes, a soft knock came from the door.
"Come in," I called, not looking up.
The door slid open. Hatate stepped inside, her expression carrying that blend of business and hesitation that always meant trouble.
"Sorry to come uninvited," she said.
"I don't mind," I replied, gesturing for her to sit. "What's up? Found the culprit?"
Hatate shook her head slowly. "No... but I found something worse."
That got my attention. I straightened, watching as she approached and handed me a folded document. Her tone was too grave for this to be something minor. I unfolded the paper, skimming the contents—and my eyes widened almost instantly.
"You're sure this is accurate?" I asked, my voice dropping low.
"I wasn't the one who found it," Hatate said, her expression tightening. "Aya did. She asked me to verify it, and—well, you can see for yourself."
"Fuck..." I muttered, setting the paper down with a sharp tap. "Just when CiRCLE's Live went perfectly. Fucking hell, China... Where did you two even dig this up?"
Hatate crossed her arms, clearly uneasy. "Aya was checking updates for the PBC Summer Tour—it's set to start soon. Then she stumbled across an article with data leaks that could seriously damage the entire circuit. She asked me to confirm the source before she reported it, and it checked out. I can't believe they did that."
"No shit," I growled under my breath. "Pay discrepancies between low-tier and high-tier bands—LGD and Aster raking in most of the budget while rookies barely scrape by. If this goes public, it'll gut China's credibility for next year's season."
Hatate nodded grimly. "So, what do we do?"
"Keep it under wraps for now," I said. "Let's see how VALVE handles it. If they drag their feet, we'll escalate it to the circuit's board ourselves."
"Understood," she said. "Also, I passed the info about the culprit to Chisato. She said she'd handle it within two days."
"Good."
I fell silent after that, my gaze drifting over the desk. Something about the situation didn't sit right—not the scandal, not the timing. Too many pieces moving too fast.
"Riku?" Hatate called gently, breaking me out of my thoughts.
"Hatate," I said, glancing her way. "Is Momiji available?"
She blinked. "Momiji? She's on standby right now. Why?"
"I want to hire her as a personal guard for Chisato and PasuPare," I replied. "If the culprit's desperate enough to stir up a false rumor, they won't stop easily. I'd rather not take chances."
Hatate's expression softened a little. "Alright. I'll inform Megumu-sama right away."
"Thanks," I said, leaning back in my chair as she turned to leave.
When the door closed, the silence returned, thicker now but oddly comforting. One more problem—partially—handled. I reached for my pen again and went back to my paperwork. The scratch of ink against paper was steady, rhythmic, the kind of sound that made the world slow down.
Eventually, the night deepened. Fuyu stirred in her sleep beside the bed, and I let myself breathe out the last of the day's tension.
Hanasakigawa Girls' High School – Rooftop
June 1, 2021 – Tuesday – 12:30 P.M.
3rd POV
The first half of the school day passed without any disruptions—classes, laughter, the usual background hum of adolescence. But up on the rooftop, away from the chatter below, the air was different. Quieter. Heavier.
Riku leaned against the railing, the wind tugging lightly at his hair as Chisato stood across from him, clutching her phone.
"Hatate told me she gave you the info," Riku said.
Chisato nodded, her face drawn tight with disbelief. "She did. And I... I can't believe it was him."
"So you know him personally?"
"Yeah," she said softly. "He's been one of PasuPare's most loyal fans since the beginning. Always front row, always cheering for us. Even when we hit rough patches, he never wavered. He's been to every live, every signing, every handshake event."
Riku frowned. "So we're dealing with a literal loyalist. That complicates things." He folded his arms. "What are you planning to do about it?"
"What else?" she replied quietly. "I'm going to talk to him. Face to face. Clear everything up."
Riku studied her for a long moment. "You realize this could go sideways fast, right? If he's unstable—and all signs point that way—this conversation might push him over the edge."
"I know," Chisato said, her voice steady but her hands trembling slightly. "But it's the only way I can think of. If I ignore this, it'll only get worse."
Riku sighed, shaking his head. "Alright... I'll trust your call. Just promise me you'll be careful."
"I will."
There was a brief silence, broken only by the hum of the city below.
"Oh," Chisato added, her tone softening a little. "I got a message from Akina-san. She said we'll be getting a bodyguard starting today."
"Ah, that," Riku said with a faint smirk. "I arranged it myself. Figured it'd be better to have someone keeping an eye on you girls until things calm down."
Chisato tilted her head slightly. "You? You hired her?"
"Yeah," he said. "The person I picked is reliable—she's disciplined, sharp, and good at staying invisible when needed. You'll see what I mean soon enough."
"Wait—she?"
"Mm-hm."
"I thought you'd pick someone from the security team," Chisato said, blinking.
"I was going to," he admitted. "But the one I had in mind's got his hands full right now. So, this time, you're getting someone far more adaptable."
She laughed softly, the tension easing from her shoulders for the first time that day. "You always have something up your sleeve, huh?"
"Old habits," he replied, turning toward the door. "Come on. Lunch break's almost over."
Chisato fell into step beside him, her gaze distant but resolute. Whatever came next—whatever she had to face—she'd chosen her path. And for now, Riku would let her walk it, just far enough for her to stand on her own, but never so far that she'd have to stand alone.
----------
Purely Promotions – Pastel*Palettes Practice Room – 4:00 P.M.
The rhythmic pulse of drums and the hum of voices filled the agency's practice room. Pastel✽Palettes was in the middle of their afternoon rehearsal, their energy high, their sound crisp and synchronized. Aya's cheerful singing led the melody, with Hina's guitar keeping the rhythm tight and grounded. Chisato, ever the professional, guided subtle corrections between measures while Maya and Eve followed the tempo with focus.
But the door opened midway through their chorus, and all motion stopped when Akina stepped inside, tablet in hand and her expression all business.
"Akina-san?" Chisato called, wiping the sweat from her forehead.
"I'm glad you girls are taking practice seriously," Akina said, stepping into the room. "But I'll need you to pause for now. There's someone I want you all to meet—your new bodyguard."
The members exchanged curious looks.
"Bodyguard?" Maya tilted her head. "Oh right, the agency did mention that..."
"Yes," Akina replied, tone calm but firm. "Given the recent incidents, it's best to be cautious. I know this feels sudden, but this measure is necessary."
Aya leaned forward. "Is our bodyguard... a boy?"
Akina's lips curved slightly. "Why don't you see for yourselves? You can come in now."
The door opened again, and a young woman entered. She looked to be in her early twenties, with short silver hair that framed her face and striking reddish-brown eyes. A small scarlet tokin rested on her head like a mark of discipline. Her outfit—a crisp white long-sleeved shirt and a black skirt bordered with flame-like designs—added an unspoken authority to her presence. But what drew everyone's attention was the sheathed scimitar at her waist.
The girls' chatter quieted immediately.
"I am Inubashiri Momiji," the woman said, bowing lightly. Her tone was calm, her diction precise. "From this day forth, I'll be serving as Pastel✽Palettes' bodyguard. Pleasure to be working with you. You can just call me Momiji."
Aya blinked, then smiled brightly. "Nice to meet you, Momiji-san! I'm—"
Momiji held up a hand gently. "No need to introduce yourselves. I already know who you are." She turned toward Akina. "If you don't mind, Akina-san, I'd like a moment of privacy with them."
Akina raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Alright. Don't take too long though—there's something else we need to discuss."
Once the door closed, Momiji faced the group again, her tone softening. "Riku and Hatate filled me in about everything. That's how I know who you are."
Eve's eyes widened slightly. "Wait—you know Riku-san too? Then that means..."
Without another word, Momiji's form shimmered faintly. In the next moment, white wolf ears appeared atop her head, and a sleek tail unfurled behind her.
Maya froze.
"I'm a Wolf Tengu," Momiji said simply. "Not like Aya and Hatate, but still one of them."
Hina gasped in delight. "Whoa! So you're a youkai too? That's so boppin'!"
Chisato exhaled softly, shaking her head with a small smile. "So that's why Riku was so confident when I asked about our security..."
But her sentence cut short when she noticed Maya—who was standing stiffly, her eyes wide and her whole body trembling like a leaf in the wind.
Momiji caught it too and took a step forward. "Maya-san? Is something wrong?"
"Hiiiiii!" Maya yelped and darted behind Eve, gripping her shoulders for dear life.
Chisato immediately stepped in. "I'm sorry, Momiji-san. I forgot to mention—Maya-chan's afraid of dogs. With you being... well, a wolf..."
Momiji's expression softened. "Ah. That explains it."
Her ears and tail vanished as smoothly as they appeared. "Better?"
Maya peeked out cautiously. The trembling stopped, though her shoulders still tensed.
Momiji walked up slowly, her posture non-threatening, and extended her hand. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm here to protect you, not harm you."
There was a long pause before Maya's shaky hand reached out and met hers.
"S-same here..." she mumbled.
Momiji's small smile lingered as she released her hand.
When Akina returned, she looked pleasantly surprised. "Looks like you girls are getting along faster than I expected. Seems Riku-kun's recommendation was right on the mark."
"Wait," Eve asked, "Riku-san recommended her?"
Akina nodded. "He did. We were skeptical at first, but after reviewing her credentials, there was no question. She's perfect for the role."
Aya tilted her head curiously. "So what's that other thing you wanted to tell us?"
Akina's expression turned serious. "It's about Chisato's situation with Riku-kun."
Chisato stepped forward. "About that. I already spoke with Hatate. She gave me the name of the one who posted that photo."
All five turned toward her immediately.
Hina blinked. "That was fast, Chisato-chan. We didn't even get a chance to do anything yet."
"The faster the better," Chisato replied, pulling out a printed sheet. "His name is Sawamura Takeo."
She laid the paper flat on a nearby table. The image was clear—a young man in his early twenties, black hair, pale skin, and dark blue eyes under a light red hoodie.
Hina squinted. "Wait. I know this guy. Isn't he one of our fans? He's been at every event we've ever held!"
"Now that you mention it," Maya added, "he was always there. Always the first in line."
Aya's brows furrowed. "But... why would he do this? Why would he want to ruin Chisato-chan's reputation?"
Momiji crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "Hmm..."
Eve noticed the thoughtful look. "Something wrong, Momiji-san?"
Momiji glanced at the photo again. "I think I've seen this person before."
Akina leaned in. "You have? Where is he now?"
Momiji scratched her head, almost sheepish. "Well..."
Without another word, she stepped out of the room. Confused murmurs followed, but before anyone could ask, the door opened again—this time with Momiji dragging in a massive burlap sack.
Everyone's eyes widened as she set it down with a dull thud. The bag wriggled. Muffled sounds escaped through the fabric.
Aya's voice cracked. "Uh... please tell me that's not..."
Momiji tugged the sack open, revealing a bound and gagged Sawamura Takeo. His eyes darted wildly around the room, panic and recognition flashing together.
"Wha—how did you—" Chisato managed.
Momiji straightened her back, calm as ever. "Before Riku recommended me yesterday, I was on my usual patrol."
"Patrol?" Hina echoed.
Momiji nodded. "Part of our duty is to keep watch over the city. We monitor for anything unusual and report it to our superiors."
Maya blinked. "But... how come no one ever sees you?"
"Because we patrol from above," Momiji said simply. "Building to building."
Everyone except Akina spoke at once. "You jump between buildings?!"
"Of course." Momiji shrugged lightly. "Our methods differ from the police. Anyway, I spotted this man near the agency yesterday—loitering, watching the entrance. His aura felt... off. So I apprehended him."
Akina blinked slowly, processing. "You tied him up for an entire day?"
Momiji scratched her cheek. "I wasn't sure what to do with him. I planned to deliver him to Megumu-sama for questioning, but once Hatate confirmed his identity, I brought him here instead."
Chisato exhaled quietly. "Can you untie him?"
Aya's head snapped toward her. "Chisato-chan! That's dangerous!"
Akina frowned. "She's right. We can't predict what he'll do once he's loose."
Momiji waved off their concern. "Relax. I already confiscated anything sharp or dangerous. He won't be able to hurt anyone."
"Thank you," Chisato said softly. "Akina-san, is there a vacant room nearby? I want to talk to him... alone."
Akina hesitated, then nodded. "There's one two doors down. Be careful."
"I will."
Momiji hoisted Takeo up with effortless strength and followed Chisato out, the door clicking shut behind them.
For a moment, the remaining five stood in silence.
Maya finally spoke. "So... what now? Without Chisato-san here, we can't really keep practicing."
Akina sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "That's up to you. You could use the time for homework or review your setlist."
Aya groaned audibly. "Ugh... I do have math homework due tomorrow."
Hina chuckled. "Need help again?"
Aya clasped her hands together dramatically. "You're a lifesaver, Hina-chan!"
"Don't mention it," Hina said with a grin. "Maya-chan, you in too?"
Maya gave a reluctant nod. "Might as well. It'll help me calm down after... that."
As they gathered their things and moved to the side of the room, the faint hum of the air conditioner filled the quiet. The earlier tension didn't fade entirely, but the group found a kind of normalcy again—helping each other, sharing pens and notes, small laughter returning piece by piece.
Meanwhile...
Chisato's POV
The room Akina-san mentioned was quiet—too quiet. Spacious, but sterile, like the kind of space meant for private scoldings or difficult confessions. A few folding chairs lined the walls, tables stacked to one side. I pulled two chairs into the center of the room, placing a single table between them. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and dust.
"Put him there," I said, keeping my tone steady.
Momiji-san obeyed without a word. She placed the tied-up man onto the chair and cut the ropes cleanly with her scimitar's edge. Her movements were efficient, almost rehearsed.
"Don't even think about trying anything," she said to him. "I only untied you because Chisato-san asked. I'll be right outside. If you try to run, you won't make it two steps."
I gave her a nod of thanks. Momiji-san stepped out, shutting the door softly. Through the small glass panel, I could see her white hair faintly gleaming beneath the corridor light. She stood sentinel, arms folded, gaze sharp.
I turned my attention back to the man. Sawamura Takeo.
He kept his eyes on the floor. His wrists bore faint rope marks, and his breathing was shallow. His hoodie—once red—was creased and grimy. I folded my arms and waited until he finally looked up.
"Now that we're alone," I said quietly, "I'll ask you directly. Was it you?"
His throat moved, but no sound came.
"Don't bother pretending," I added, voice cooling. "The photo. Me and Riku. Was that your doing?"
He swallowed. "I-I don't know what you're talking about—"
"Stop lying."
The words came out sharper than I intended. He flinched. Silence stretched. I could hear the hum of the air conditioner, the faint creak of a pipe somewhere above us.
He finally whispered, "It wasn't me. Someone... made me do it."
My arms dropped to my sides. "What?"
He nodded frantically, eyes darting to the door as if the very person he feared might burst in. "T-they told me to post it. I didn't even know what it would cause. I swear!"
So he wasn't the hand that moved—just the one that trembled under someone else's command.
"Then who?" I pressed. "Who made you do it?"
He opened his mouth, but no sound came. He looked past me, his pupils shrinking. Sweat rolled down his temple.
"Sawamura-kun?"
He started to shake. Then suddenly—he gasped. His breath came in ragged bursts, chest heaving like he was drowning in air.
"Hey—hey!" I moved closer, reaching for his shoulder. "Calm down!"
He tumbled off the chair, clutching his throat, eyes rolling back.
"Sawamura-kun!"
The door slammed open.
Momiji-san was instantly beside me, her scimitar half-drawn. "What happened?"
"I don't know! He just—he started to hyperventilate out of nowhere! He was fine a second ago!"
Sawamura-kun convulsed once more, then went still, unconscious.
Momiji-san knelt beside him, checking his pulse. "He's alive. But weak."
"Get him to the infirmary. Stay with him and call me when he wakes. I'll head back to the others."
She nodded firmly, hoisting the man over her shoulder as if he weighed nothing. The door clicked shut behind her.
And I was left in the silence again, only the echo of my own breath filling the room.
With Aya and the others
3rd POV
Time dragged.
Aya's head rested on her folded arms atop the practice room table. "Ughhh... my brain's melting."
Maya, sitting cross-legged on the floor, didn't look much better. "That's what you get for saving all your homework for one day."
Hina giggled, flipping through her notebook. "At least you finally finished. Small miracles."
Eve clapped her hands together, beaming. "That's the spirit of perseverance!"
When the door opened, they all looked up.
Chisato stood there. Not angry, not sad—just... tired. Her eyes held the kind of fatigue that didn't come from lack of sleep.
Aya rose immediately. "Chisato-chan! What happened? Did he admit it?"
Chisato shook her head. "No. Someone else pulled the strings. He's just a pawn."
Maya frowned. "Did you get a name?"
"Almost. But before he could say anything, he started... hyperventilating. Passed out cold. Momiji's watching him now."
Eve's smile faltered. "Then that means we're back to square one."
Chisato sighed. "Pretty much. If we don't find whoever's behind this before the weekend..."
The rest went unsaid.
And then—
BOOOOOM!
The explosion rattled the mirrors on the far wall. Instruments clattered off stands. Aya yelped, ducking instinctively.
"What was that?!" Maya shrieked.
"An explosion?!" Hina echoed, already gripping her drumsticks like weapons.
Chisato's eyes darted toward the hallway. "But where—"
The door burst open again. Akina stumbled in, breathless and wide-eyed.
"Girls! Are you okay?"
Aya ran to her. "We're fine! What happened?"
Akina's expression tightened. "Someone attacked the infirmary. They took Sawamura. Momiji's already in pursuit."
The room fell into stunned silence.
Maya's face drained of color. "T-took him?!"
Akina nodded grimly. "All rehearsals are suspended. I'm taking you home personally. Security will escort each of you. And... I'll have to contact Riku-kun about this."
Even the mention of Riku's name added weight to the moment. No one argued. They gathered their things in silence as Akina ushered them out toward the waiting cars.
Meanwhile — with Momiji
The air outside was cold and sharp, carrying the scent of smoke.
Momiji sprinted across rooftops, her scimitar drawn, the faint glow of the setting sun catching on its curved edge. Her white ears twitched—tracking, filtering. Footsteps, the faint clatter of something metallic, breath breaking branches ahead.
The suspect was fast. Faster than most humans. But not faster than a Tengu.
Momiji's boots hit the edge of a building. She launched herself forward, landing lightly on the next. The world blurred around her in streaks of motion and wind.
The trail led her toward the edge of the city, where concrete bled into wilderness. She stopped at the forest line, nostrils flaring. There—two distinct scents. Fear and something darker.
She crept forward, hiding behind a tree. In the small clearing ahead, a man in a dark cloak crouched beside Sawamura, who lay limp on the ground. The stranger's voice was calm, almost polite, but edged with venom.
"You had one job, and you failed spectacularly," the man said. "Still, that was to be expected. The Tengu always find their prey. I only meant to soil Shirasagi's reputation long enough to stir the young Nagae into action... but what's done is done. You're no longer useful to me."
Momiji's pulse quickened. Whoever this was, he wasn't just behind the photo—he was behind the entire scheme.
She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small blue signal rod. Snapping it in half, she threw it to the ground. It shimmered briefly before vanishing, the call was sent.
When she looked back—
The man raised his hand. A thin, curved dagger formed from shadow itself.
He plunged it downward.
Momiji moved before she thought. Steel sang as her blade clashed against his, sparks scattering in the twilight. Her shield unfolded from her arm in one smooth motion, blocking his follow-up strike.
"Looks like you caught up," the man said lightly. His hood shifted, revealing a flash of pale skin and a grin too calm for someone just interrupted mid-murder. "Though you're a wolf Tengu... you're no match for me."
Momiji tightened her grip. "Maybe not. But I only need to stall you."
He tilted his head, amused. "And who exactly is going to stop me?"
A new voice answered, cutting through the trees:
"I will! Wind Sign: Tempest Edge!"
A crescent blade of wind tore through the clearing, shrieking like a living thing. The man barely had time to leap before it adjusted its course midair and slammed into his chest, sending him crashing against a tree.
Momiji blinked. "Aya?! Why are you here? I called for Megumu-sama!"
The black-haired Tengu landed beside her, wings folding behind her back. "You did. But she's in a meeting with the generals. She told me to assist instead. I didn't expect this—" she glanced at the collapsed man—"but judging by the bloodlust, I came just in time."
The man groaned, pushing himself up. His cloak hung in tatters. Underneath—ebony hair, skin pale as chalk, eyes glowing faint gold.
He met their gaze with unnerving calm. "So the fastest Tengu of Gensokyo joins the fray. A pity. I'd love to retaliate, but my master insists I refrain. This little setback means nothing. Consider this only the beginning."
Then he smiled—slow, deliberate—and bowed.
A black vortex spun open behind him, swallowing light and sound.
Momiji lunged. Aya followed.
But he was already gone.
The portal collapsed, leaving only disturbed leaves and silence.
Aya exhaled sharply. "What was that?"
Momiji sheathed her blade, frowning. "No idea. He appeared out of nowhere and blew part of the agency to hell. Thankfully, no one was hurt."
Aya crossed her arms. "You know Riku's going to lose it when he hears this."
Momiji's ears twitched. "Yeah... and I can't blame him."
Then she noticed something—something faintly glowing where the portal had been. A book.
It was thick, bound in deep violet leather, the surface pulsing with veins of shadow.
"What is this?" she murmured, crouching.
Aya frowned. "Looks like a grimoire. Definitely not something human-made."
Momiji picked it up carefully. A cold wave rippled up her arm. The pages whispered—soft, unintelligible voices brushing the edge of hearing.
"...Yeah. This is no ordinary book."
Aya glanced toward the horizon. "Kosuzu might recognize it. Or Patchouli. Either way, it's not safe to keep in the open."
Momiji nodded. "We'll inform the family heads first. Then get Sawamura to a hospital."
She looked down at the unconscious man lying nearby—still alive, by some miracle.
"Let's move before whoever that was decides to come back."
Aya spread her wings, lifting off the forest floor, while Momiji took off below, dashing through the trees with quiet, precise strides.
The forest swallowed their retreat—two streaks of motion, one of wind and one of white.
And the violet book, sealed in Momiji's grasp, pulsed faintly... as if it's listening.