The following afternoon arrived beneath a sky of clear blue and drifting white clouds.
Classes passed as they always did.
Teachers lectured.
Students took notes.
The school continued its ordinary routine.
Yet for Ruko, his thoughts repeatedly wandered toward a certain support-assassin hero and the girl stubborn enough to choose her.
The image of Melodious flashing across the screen lingered in his mind.
More specifically—
The image of Risa repeatedly missing every rhythm input imaginable.
It was honestly impressive.
He still wasn't sure whether to call it talent or a natural disaster.
By the time the final bell rang, Ruko found himself heading toward the Gaming Research Club earlier than usual.
The hallways remained crowded with students leaving classrooms.
Voices echoed through the corridors.
Groups gathered near lockers.
Athletes rushed toward practice.
Meanwhile, Ruko climbed the stairs toward the clubroom.
The moment he reached the door—
He heard music.
Not actual music.
Game music.
Skill effects.
Combat sounds.
Button inputs.
The familiar sounds of someone grinding practice mode.
"...Already here?"
Ruko opened the door.
The clubroom greeted him with the glow of computer monitors.
And exactly as expected—
Risa sat at her usual station.
Her posture remained perfectly straight.
Her eyes remained locked onto her monitor.
Her concentration was absolute.
She hadn't even noticed him entering.
On-screen—
Melodious danced across the battlefield.
Musical notes spun around the character.
Abilities flashed.
Stacks appeared.
Disappeared.
Reset.
Appeared again.
Then immediately vanished.
"...Missed it."
Risa muttered.
The passive reset.
Again.
Ruko sighed.
"...Still terrible."
Without turning around—
Risa answered.
"I have improved."
"You missed the beat."
"Correct."
"You reset your passive."
"Correct."
"You died."
"Correct."
"..."
"..."
"...Still terrible."
Risa finally glanced at him.
A tiny frown appeared.
"My rhythm accuracy increased by seventeen point three percent."
"You're measuring it?"
"Of course."
Ruko shouldn't have been surprised.
At this point he would be more surprised if she wasn't tracking it.
Still—
He watched her play for several minutes.
And reluctantly admitted something.
She had improved.
Not dramatically.
Not enough to be considered good.
But she was getting better.
Her timing was cleaner.
Her stack management had improved.
Most importantly—
She no longer looked completely lost.
The progress was visible.
Slow.
Painfully slow.
But real.
And considering Melodious was arguably the hardest hero in the game—
That alone was impressive.
"...Interesting."
Risa looked pleased.
"That means improvement is visible."
"It means you're slightly less horrible."
"..."
"I choose to interpret that positively."
"Of course you do."
The clubroom door opened again.
This time accompanied by energetic footsteps.
Kana entered carrying a convenience store bag.
The moment she spotted Risa—
Her eyes lit up.
"Oh!"
Immediately she rushed over.
"Practicing Melodious again?"
"Correct."
"How's it going?"
"I remain objectively bad."
"At least you're honest."
"I have statistical evidence."
Kana laughed.
Then pulled up a chair beside her.
For the next several minutes, the two reviewed game footage together.
Ruko watched from nearby.
At first it was ordinary discussion.
Then strategy began forming.
"...Wait."
Kana pointed at the screen.
"What if I engage first?"
"Hm?"
"I'm serious."
Kana leaned forward.
"If I use my crowd control here..."
She pointed toward an objective fight.
"...then you come in after."
Risa adjusted her glasses.
Kana continued.
"I set them up."
"..."
"You burst them."
"..."
"Then we escape."
For a brief moment—
Risa actually considered it.
Then she calmly replied.
"That strategy would have approximately a 0.82% success rate."
Kana froze.
"...What."
"Our coordination is poor."
"..."
"You tend to commit emotionally."
"..."
"You also become excited."
"..."
"Your positioning becomes inconsistent."
"..."
"I become distracted by calculations."
"..."
"Our teamwork efficiency remains low."
Kana's shoulders slumped.
A visible pout formed.
"...You're mean."
"I'm accurate."
"You didn't have to say it like that."
Risa looked at her.
Then—
Unexpectedly—
A small smile appeared.
A genuine one.
Subtle.
But unmistakable.
"Though."
Kana blinked.
"Hm?"
"My calculations could change."
The room fell quiet.
Ruko looked over.
So did Kana.
Risa's gaze slowly shifted toward him.
Then she continued.
"They have been proven false before."
"..."
"Multiple times."
"..."
"And recently."
For some reason—
Ruko suddenly felt attacked.
Kana immediately noticed.
Her eyes widened.
Then she looked between them.
Then grinned.
Dangerously.
"Oh?"
"...Don't."
"Oh?"
"...Kana."
"Interesting."
Risa ignored her entirely and returned to her practice.
Unfortunately—
Kana had already noticed.
And once Kana noticed something—
It was over.
Completely over.
The teasing would return later.
Ruko could already feel it.
The clubroom door opened once again.
This time—
A tired figure stumbled inside.
Kazuha.
"...I'm exhausted."
Her voice sounded completely drained.
Dark circles sat beneath her eyes.
Her usually neat appearance looked slightly disheveled.
The student council had clearly declared war on her schedule again.
Then—
Her gaze landed on Risa and Kana practicing together.
Immediately—
Her expression brightened.
Like a flower blooming beneath sunlight.
"Risa!"
Before anyone could react—
Kazuha launched herself forward.
And hugged Risa.
Directly.
Without warning.
The impact nearly caused Risa to miss another rhythm input.
"..."
"..."
"...Hello Kazuha."
Kazuha squeezed tighter.
"You practiced without me."
"I did."
"You started already."
"I did."
"You didn't wait."
"You were occupied."
Kazuha looked ready to cry.
Risa gently patted her head.
An oddly natural action.
"I'm only doing this because of our dream."
The room became slightly quieter.
Even Kana stopped joking.
Risa continued.
"And because of our promise."
Kazuha's smile softened.
"The promise..."
Risa nodded.
"To reach the esports stage together."
For a moment—
The atmosphere changed.
The casual joking disappeared.
The playful energy faded.
Because those weren't empty words.
Everyone in this room had joined for different reasons.
But they all shared the same destination.
The professional stage.
The dream that seemed impossibly distant.
And yet—
Slowly—
They were moving toward it.
Ruko watched them.
Then tilted his head.
"...Actually."
The girls looked over.
A question suddenly appeared in his mind.
One he had never asked.
"...What got you into esports anyway?"
Silence.
Then all three girls looked at him.
Almost simultaneously.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Why are you all staring at me?"
"You've never asked."
Kana answered.
"Because I never thought about it."
"Fair."
Ruko looked toward Risa first.
"What about you?"
Risa immediately answered.
"I plan to become a game developer."
No hesitation.
No uncertainty.
The answer had clearly existed for years.
"A developer?"
She nodded.
"Creating games has always interested me."
"However, one must first understand what makes games enjoyable."
"Otherwise they will fail."
Of course she had statistics.
She always had statistics.
"Approximately 6.2% of games fail to reach their intended average download targets because they misunderstand player engagement."
"...You really memorized that."
"Of course."
Ruko sighed.
Then looked toward Kana.
"What about you?"
Kana froze.
Then immediately turned red.
"...Me?"
"Yeah."
"Well..."
She scratched her cheek.
Looking embarrassed.
Then eventually admitted it.
"I wanted to add gaming to my food vlog."
The room fell silent.
Kana pumped her fist into the air.
"Think about it!"
She looked genuinely excited.
"If I make it big in esports—"
"More viewers."
"More followers."
"More food content."
"More opportunities."
"It all connects."
Ruko stared.
"...That's surprisingly practical."
"I know!"
Kana beamed proudly.
Then immediately pointed at Kazuha.
"Your turn."
Kazuha froze.
Instantly.
The reaction alone was suspicious.
Very suspicious.
"...Kazuha?"
"No."
"You haven't even answered."
"No."
"That's not how this works."
Kazuha looked away.
Her ears slowly turning red.
"...Mine are shameful reasons."
The room immediately exploded.
Kana pointed dramatically.
"A boy."
Kazuha jumped.
"W-What?!"
"It's definitely a boy."
"No!"
Risa adjusted her glasses.
Then nodded.
"One hundred percent."
"No!"
"One hundred percent."
"Risa!"
"The evidence is overwhelming."
"There is no evidence!"
"There is."
"There isn't!"
"There is."
"There isn't!"
"There is."
Kana joined in.
"There absolutely is."
Kazuha looked ready to die.
Her face was completely red now.
Unfortunately—
The teasing only intensified.
Then—
The clubroom door opened.
And salvation arrived.
Or rather—
Something far more dangerous.
Hikari entered.
The room immediately felt colder.
Not literally.
Emotionally.
Everyone noticed.
Especially Ruko.
Because Hikari looked angry.
Not normal Hikari angry.
Not competitive angry.
Not annoyed angry.
Genuinely angry.
The kind that made survival instincts activate.
Ruko immediately sat up straighter.
"...Uh."
Hikari's eyes landed on him.
The glare that followed nearly stopped his heart.
"..."
"..."
"...Why do I feel targeted?"
Nobody answered.
Because everyone felt it too.
The anger.
The pressure.
The overwhelming sense that Hikari specifically wanted to murder one person.
And that person happened to be Ruko.
Unfortunately.
"...What about you, Hikari?"
The moment the question left his mouth—
The glare intensified.
Ruko regretted everything.
Instantly.
"I was just asking!"
Hikari remained silent.
Which somehow felt worse.
Nearby—
Risa slowly leaned toward Kana and Kazuha.
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"I have observed something."
Kana nodded.
"I noticed too."
Kazuha looked nervous.
"What is it?"
Risa adjusted her glasses.
"Hikari appears angrier than usual."
"Definitely."
Kana agreed immediately.
"You think something happened?"
Kazuha tilted her head.
"Maybe."
Then she glanced toward Hikari.
Then toward Ruko.
Then back.
"...Though somehow."
"Hm?"
"Her anger seems directed entirely toward Ruko."
The three girls looked at him.
At the poor boy currently sweating beneath Hikari's murderous stare.
Then back at each other.
Silence followed.
A respectful silence.
The kind people held during funerals.
Finally—
Risa folded her hands together.
And quietly said:
"May his sacrifice protect us from her divine wrath."
Kana nodded solemnly.
"A noble warrior."
Kazuha nodded too.
"We shall remember him."
"What are you three whispering about?!"
"No idea."
Risa answered immediately.
"You were definitely talking about me!"
"No."
"You were!"
"No."
"You absolutely were!"
Meanwhile—
Hikari continued staring.
The girls continued pretending innocence.
And somewhere deep inside—
Ruko realized something horrifying.
Whatever crime he had committed—
He didn't even know what it was.
And somehow—
That made it much scarier.
The atmosphere inside the Gaming Research Club felt different that afternoon.
Not bad.
Not tense.
Not yet.
But different.
The excitement from discovering Melodious had slowly evolved into something more practical.
Practice.
Real practice.
Not individual drills.
Not theory crafting.
Not replay reviews.
Actual team practice.
The kind that exposed weaknesses far more brutally than any opponent ever could.
Five computers glowed beneath the clubroom lights.
The familiar sounds of keyboards and mice filled the room.
Voices echoed through headsets.
Cooldowns were called.
Rotations were announced.
Mistakes were made.
And everyone was painfully reminded that having talent and functioning as a team were two very different things.
"Three enemies missing."
Kazuha's voice sounded through the call.
"I know."
Risa replied immediately.
"They are likely preparing for Turtle."
"Likely?"
Kana asked.
"What do you mean likely?"
"Eighty-seven percent."
"...Why do I even ask anymore?"
The match continued.
Ruko sat behind them, observing.
Watching.
Analyzing.
The same way he always did.
And unfortunately—
The problems were obvious.
Very obvious.
Especially between Kana and Risa.
"...Go."
Kana suddenly engaged.
Her hero lunged forward.
A perfect initiation.
The enemy carry was exposed.
An ideal opportunity.
Except—
Risa wasn't there.
Not because she ignored the play.
Not because she made a mistake.
Because she was doing something else entirely.
A different calculation.
A different rotation.
A different opportunity.
Kana's combo landed.
The follow-up never came.
Three seconds later—
Kana died.
The enemy escaped.
The objective was lost.
Silence filled the voice chat.
Then—
"...Again."
Kana sighed.
Risa adjusted her glasses.
"Again."
No blaming.
No frustration.
Just acceptance.
Because both knew exactly what the problem was.
Their coordination.
Or rather—
Their lack of coordination.
Kana was emotional.
Instinctive.
Explosive.
She saw opportunities and acted.
Risa was calculated.
Analytical.
Methodical.
She evaluated everything before committing.
Individually—
Both approaches worked.
Together—
They collided.
Again and again.
And again.
Another match started.
Another attempt.
Another failure.
Another lesson.
Yet despite everything—
Neither gave up.
Every mistake became discussion.
Every failed play became analysis.
Every defeat became another opportunity to improve.
Slowly.
Painfully slowly.
But improving nonetheless.
"...If I move here first."
Kana pointed at the replay.
"...Then I know where you'll rotate."
Risa nodded.
"Correct."
"...Then I can delay my engage."
"Correct."
"...And wait two seconds."
"Correct."
Kana looked hopeful.
Then tried it in the next match.
The result?
Disaster.
Because this time Risa adjusted her route midway through.
"...You changed your mind."
"Correct."
"I was waiting for you."
"Unfortunate."
Kana dropped her head onto the desk.
"This is impossible."
Risa actually looked apologetic.
"...My route changed."
"I know it changed."
"The enemy moved."
"I KNOW."
Ruko watched silently.
Then sighed.
Still rough.
Still incredibly rough.
But there was progress.
Tiny progress.
The kind invisible to outsiders.
Yet obvious to someone paying attention.
The gap between them was slowly shrinking.
Which left another problem.
A much larger one.
Kazuha.
"Kazuha."
"Hm?"
"You're late."
Immediately she understood what he meant.
Another replay.
Another failed teamfight.
Another moment where she arrived just a little too late.
Not enough to be obvious.
Not enough to be considered a mistake.
But enough.
Enough to matter.
Kazuha stared at the replay.
Then sighed.
"...I'm still not used to them."
Kana and Risa looked over.
Kazuha rubbed her forehead.
"Everyone rotates differently."
"You move."
She pointed at Kana.
"Then suddenly you're somewhere else."
Kana laughed awkwardly.
"Sorry."
Then Kazuha pointed at Risa.
"And you."
"You move like a chess computer."
"Nobody knows where you're going."
"I usually know."
"...That somehow makes it worse."
The room erupted into laughter.
Even Risa seemed unable to argue.
Because it was true.
Her adaptive routing made her difficult for opponents to predict.
Unfortunately—
It also made her difficult for teammates to predict.
Meaning Kazuha often arrived half a step behind.
Not because she was slow.
Because she was trying to understand three different brains simultaneously.
A difficult task for anyone.
The practice continued.
Match after match.
Loss after loss.
Improvement after improvement.
And throughout all of it—
One person continued getting worse.
Hikari.
At first the signs were subtle.
Small things.
Easy to overlook.
A missed skill.
An unnecessary chase.
A slightly delayed response.
Nothing major.
Nothing alarming.
Yet the longer the session continued—
The more obvious it became.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
"Hikari back."
Ruko called.
The enemy had vanished from vision.
The warning came immediately.
Normally—
Hikari would've listened.
Normally—
She would've repositioned.
Normally—
She would've recognized the bait.
Instead—
She charged forward.
Directly into the fog of war.
Three enemies appeared instantly.
Ambush.
Crowd control.
Burst damage.
Dead.
The room became quiet.
"..."
"..."
"..."
Hikari didn't say anything.
Not a single word.
The next match started.
Things got worse.
The enemy taunted her in chat.
A simple bait.
An obvious bait.
The kind professional players ignored completely.
Hikari immediately responded.
Overcommitted.
Forced a fight.
Lost.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Each mistake felt unlike her.
Because Hikari wasn't reckless.
Aggressive?
Yes.
Competitive?
Absolutely.
Emotional?
Sometimes.
But reckless?
Never.
Yet today—
She looked distracted.
Like part of her mind was somewhere else.
The worst moment came during their fourth match.
The game reached late stage.
One teamfight would decide everything.
Everyone focused.
Everyone prepared.
Everyone—
Except Hikari.
"...Wait."
Kana blinked.
"Hikari."
No response.
"Hikari."
Silence.
Then Kazuha noticed.
"...Those are the wrong items."
The room froze.
Because she was right.
Completely wrong.
Hikari had purchased an entirely incorrect item path.
Not once.
Twice.
Two expensive purchases.
Two major mistakes.
The kind she'd never make normally.
The realization hit immediately.
Even Hikari noticed.
The moment she opened her inventory.
The moment she saw it.
The moment she understood.
Her shoulders tightened.
Her hands clenched.
And for the first time all afternoon—
Actual frustration appeared on her face.
Not toward anyone else.
Toward herself.
The match ended shortly after.
Defeat.
Again.
The screen faded.
Nobody spoke.
Then—
Hikari stood up.
Abruptly.
The chair rolled backward.
Everyone looked over.
"...Hikari?"
Kana spoke first.
No response.
"...Are you okay?"
Nothing.
Hikari grabbed her bag.
Then headed toward the door.
Her movements were quick.
Almost hurried.
Like she needed to leave.
Immediately.
Before anyone could stop her.
Before anyone could ask questions.
The door opened.
Then closed.
And she was gone.
The room remained silent.
For several long seconds.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone felt it.
The worry.
The concern.
The uncertainty.
Kana looked toward the door.
"...She's definitely not okay."
"Correct."
Risa answered quietly.
Kazuha nodded.
"I've never seen her play like that."
Neither had Ruko.
And that worried him most.
Because Hikari wasn't the type to fall apart.
She was the type who held everything together.
The type who pushed forward.
The type who refused to show weakness.
Which meant—
If even she was struggling—
Whatever was happening mattered.
A lot.
The practice session ended shortly after.
Nobody really had the energy to continue.
Not after that.
Not with the mood hanging over the room.
Everyone eventually headed home.
The evening air felt cool.
Streetlights illuminated the roads.
The city settled into its usual rhythm.
And yet—
The image of Hikari leaving remained stuck in everyone's minds.
Especially Ruko's.
Hours later—
Messages appeared in the team group chat.
A discussion that naturally shifted toward the same topic.
Hikari.
Kana worried.
Risa concerned.
Kazuha unusually quiet.
Eventually—
The conversation narrowed until only Kazuha and Ruko remained talking.
A private call.
Late evening.
The sound of city traffic drifted faintly through their phones.
"...Do you think she's okay?"
Kazuha asked softly.
Ruko stared out his bedroom window.
The darkness beyond reflected his own uncertainty.
"I don't know."
"Something's bothering her."
"And whatever it is..."
He sighed.
"It's serious."
The line became quiet.
Neither knew what to say.
Neither knew how to help.
Because helping someone required understanding the problem first.
And right now—
They understood nothing.
Then suddenly—
Kazuha's voice changed.
"...Wait."
"Hm?"
"I think I see her."
Ruko sat upright.
"What?"
"I'm near the shopping district."
"..."
"And Hikari is here."
Immediately his attention sharpened.
"What is she doing?"
Kazuha moved closer to a window.
Looking down toward the street.
Then answered.
"...She's not alone."
"What do you mean?"
"She's with friends."
The answer surprised him.
Because it didn't match what he'd expected.
Slowly—
Kazuha continued describing what she saw.
A group of girls.
Laughing.
Talking.
Walking together beneath the evening lights.
And among them—
Hikari.
The same Hikari who had looked miserable earlier.
The same Hikari who had left practice frustrated.
The same Hikari who had barely spoken.
She was there.
Walking toward a café.
Surrounded by friends.
Yet—
Kazuha's next words carried uncertainty.
"...She's smiling."
Ruko blinked.
"That's good, right?"
"...Maybe."
The hesitation bothered him.
"What do you mean maybe?"
Kazuha remained quiet for several seconds.
Then finally answered.
"...The smile looks forced."
Silence followed.
A heavy silence.
Because both understood exactly what she meant.
Sometimes people smiled because they were happy.
Sometimes—
They smiled because they didn't want anyone to notice they weren't.
Outside the café, the group disappeared through the entrance.
The lights swallowed them.
And just like that—
Hikari vanished from sight.
Leaving behind nothing but questions.
Questions neither Ruko nor Kazuha could answer.
Questions that somehow felt more worrying than before.
Because now they knew one thing for certain.
Whatever was bothering Hikari—
She was hiding it.
And that realization felt far more frightening than any losing streak ever could.