Evening.
Inside Starry Live House, behind the counter.
"What's wrong, Nijika?" Seika Ijichi asked, looking quizzically at her younger sister in her work uniform behind the counter.
Nijika Ijichi's face was flushed with shame. She wiped up the orange juice that had spilled beside the drink machine with a rag before turning back and murmuring, "I just zoned out for a second..."
"This is the second time you've spilled something in just a short while. You're never like this," Seika said with a slight frown. "You seem distracted today. Did something happen?"
"I..."
Nijika looked up at her sister.
Although her sister's expression seemed stern, Nijika could see a trace of genuine concern in her eyes.
For a moment, Nijika desperately wanted to tell her most trusted family member everything she had experienced in the Samsara Game—the suppressed fear, the confusion, the helplessness—and then have her sister give her a warm hug so she could forget all those terrible things.
However, the words got stuck in her throat before she could speak, a painful lump forming...
She couldn't say it.
She didn't dare say it.
No one knew how the Samsara Game pulled people in.
If telling her sister got her involved too, her world would truly come crashing down.
"It's nothing..." she mumbled, feeling even more distressed.
Since she wouldn't talk, Seika could only guess.
She touched her chin and said, "Is it because of the debut performance next week? Are you worried?"
Of course, that wasn't the real reason, but to stop her sister from guessing wildly, Nijika decided to just admit it. "A little..."
Hearing this, Seika seemed to relax a bit and waved her hand. "Considering your situation, there's nothing to worry about."
"Eh?"
Nijika froze for a moment.
Although that wasn't what she was anxious about.
But her sister's reaction right now was quite unusual.
After all, her sister had never really approved of her idea to form a band.
She'd had to beg her sister for ages just to book a performance slot at their own live house for next week.
But now, she was telling her not to worry. Was she actually trying to comfort her?
Had her unbelievably tsundere sister had a change of heart today?
Nijika was so moved she was momentarily at a loss for words. "Sis, I never knew... you could be..."
"With your 'playing house' level of skill, your debut is almost guaranteed to fail anyway. I'm only letting you go up there for the experience, so there's no need to be nervous." Seika Ijichi said flatly.
Nijika: "Huh?"
So that's what 'don't worry' meant...
That's your way of telling me not to worry?
It might be your version of comforting, but are you even speaking like a human being?!
Damn it, give me back my emotional moment, you!!!
Nijika's cheeks instantly puffed out in anger, making her look just like a stressed-out little pufferfish.
"I'm mad!! I... I'm going on strike!"
She huffily took off her work uniform, unable to contain her rage... and then folded it neatly and placed it on the counter beside her.
Only then did she storm out of the live house in a huff.
Seika Ijichi wasn't bothered by this. She figured it was good for the listless girl to get some fresh air.
***
Walking up the stairs and out onto the street, Nijika found a random bench and sat down.
People were coming and going in this area; it wasn't crowded, but it was far from deserted.
Yet, surrounded by this bustling environment, she felt a loneliness she had never experienced before.
No one knew what she had been through.
No one could understand how she felt right now.
Whether it was the joy of surviving a disaster or the anxiety about the next game, there was no one she could share it with.
Not even her best friend, Ryo, or the sister she depended on.
In the vast city of Tokyo, it felt like she was all alone...
Oh, wait...
There was one other person.
That guy... based on his accent, maybe he was from Tokyo too?
The memory of that handsome, perpetually calm face slowly surfaced in her mind.
A powerful urge suddenly welled up inside her—she wanted to see him.
This impulse had struck her countless times this afternoon, and each time she had hesitated.
But right now, it was so strong she could barely contain it.
But then came the problem... she couldn't find him.
She only knew his surname was Fumiya, not even his full name.
His clothes were just ordinary casual wear for men, so it was hard to get any information from that.
The only clue she had to find him seemed to be his appearance.
But even if she assumed he was from Tokyo, the city had over ten million people. Trying to find someone based on just their looks and a surname was a hopeless task... It's not like she was the police and could issue an official wanted poster with a sketch.
What was she supposed to do?
Besides...
Should she even be looking for him? Or rather, would he even want to see her? This was the question that had made her hesitate all this time, the reason she hadn't acted yet.
After all, in that first game, she couldn't say she had given it her all; it was more like she was completely carried to victory.
Fumiya-san, on the other hand, had frantically searched for a solution with flawless execution, and he'd even considered self-harm to find a way out. And in the end, he still had to calm her down and get her to cooperate to achieve the perfect ending...
Throughout the entire process, she was the one being protected and looked after. To put it bluntly, she was just dragging him down, useless except for being obedient.
Having cleared the first game like that, what did Fumiya-san really think of her, even if he didn't say anything on the surface?
Did he actually despise her but was just too well-mannered to show it?
If she went looking for him now, would he just think, "Wasn't helping you once enough? Now you're going to cling to me and keep dragging me down"?
The mere thought of being despised made the girl's heart clench, her self-esteem flickering precariously like a candle in the wind.
***
Nijika struggled with this complex internal debate for a long time.
In the end, she convinced herself—it didn't matter if he despised her. She just wanted to see him and properly thank him for saving her life; that would be enough. As for the next game, she would just have to try her best on her own. She couldn't rely on others forever.
Having settled on this, she calmed down and started to think about how to find this Fumiya-san.
But trying to find someone with only a surname and a mental image was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
She thought for a long time but couldn't come up with anything, so she decided she needed someone to discuss it with.
But she was worried she'd let the secret slip if she talked to her sister...
After much hesitation, Nijika took out her phone and called Ryo Yamada.
The call connected quickly. Nijika explained her request to Ryo Yamada, asking for help in figuring something out.
But after hearing her out, Ryo Yamada's tone became a little... peculiar.
"If you're looking for someone, you don't have much information... Let me think..." Ryo Yamada said. "For Nijika to be this concerned, he must be pretty handsome, right? Or... is he really good at an instrument?"
Nijika immediately caught the subtle implication. Her cheeks grew warm as she quickly said, "It's not about being handsome! It's not that kind of relationship..."
"So he has a generic face?" Ryo Yamada asked.
"Well... not exactly," Nijika said, scratching her cheek and twirling a lock of hair by her temple with her little finger. She recalled his face and said, "He's not one of those super eye-catching pretty boys, but he is... kinda handsome, I guess. His features are nice, especially his eyes. They're very... very..."
"Very human-like?" Ryo Yamada asked.
"They're very human... uh—what! What do you mean 'human-like'? Of course he's a person!" Nijika retorted, annoyed. "I mean they're very... expressive. Exceptionally clear, and very... very bright."
"But all of that is pretty vague. Are there any more specific features?" Ryo Yamada analyzed rationally.
"More specific..."
Nijika thought for a moment. "He seems to be around my age. I didn't get a good look at his height, but he should be about 180 centimeters. His skin is pretty fair, and his hands are big and soft... oh, no, scratch that last one. And also..."
Nijika focused, digging through her memories, trying to unearth more useful information.
And just then...
Someone tapped her on the shoulder.
"Excuse me, miss. Could you tell me how to get to Starry Live House?"
_____
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