To be honest, Haru hadn’t expected it to be so cozy inside.
Bocchi’s closet wasn’t even the size of a single tatami mat, but it was compact and fully functional. Sohow, she’d managed to fit her guitar, a laptop, and even installed a hook on the wall to hang her headphones. Posters of bands were taped up where she could still see them.
Compared to her actual room, this tiny space felt more like her true ho.
"This is... kind of amazing," Haru muttered from the far side, impressed at how packed the closet was.
Oh no. Even he was starting to feel safe in here.
Still, asking Bocchi to talk in the closet was clearly the right call. The mont the door slid shut, her expression visibly relaxed. In her oversized tracksuit, curled beside her guitar with a goofy, content look, she couldn’t have looked more at peace.
"S-Sorry, Haru-san! It’s really cramped in here, so I hope you don’t mind sharing space," Bocchi said, cheeks tinged with guilt.
She carefully reached into the corner and pulled out a small, fist-sized nightlight. With practiced ease, she flicked it on, casting a soft white glow over the tiny space.
"It’s fine. So, Bocchi, you practice guitar in here regularly?"
"Ah... yeah. I’m afraid that if I get nervous on stage, I’ll ss up. So I figured I’d just train until the chord progressions are pure muscle mory. That way, even if my brain turns to coffee pudding, my hands will keep playing..."
"Coffee pudding?"
Haru’s lip twitched slightly.
But he got it. Bocchi cared deeply about the upcoming Fireworks Festival live show, which was good. But overtraining from stress could easily backfire.
In Haru’s eyes, soone like Bocchi didn’t need that much practice. She already had the skills.
"You just need to treat it like any other live show. You’ve perford more than a few tis now, right?"
"Y-Yeah..."
Bocchi lowered her head, and even her ssy hair bun seed to droop.
This festival was sothing Haru had fought hard for. A chance for the band to potentially debut. A stepping stone for Nijika’s dream.
If she ssed it up out of nervousness...
Just thinking about it made Bocchi’s fingers tremble against her tracksuit.
Haru narrowed his eyes, then leaned closer and raised a hand.
[Chop of doom]
"Ow—!"
Bocchi clutched her head, eyes watering like a bullied lamb.
"Don’t treat everyone else like they’re fragile. Nijika and Ryo are stepping onto that stage because they’re ntally ready. Even if things go badly, we’ll learn from it and improve. This live show isn’t the end of our band."
Still holding her head, Bocchi slowly looked up.
Her blue eyes, mostly hidden by bangs, locked onto Haru’s. The anxiety that had been tightening around her heart began to unravel, though she couldn’t find the words.
"And besides, we’ve got our Guitar Hero, don’t we?"
The quiet praise made her heart flutter. Color sparked in her gaze.
Usually, she’d be giddy and grinning like a fool after a complint like that. But this ti was different. Her heart was pounding, and her eyes ’deep, sky-blue’ glead.
Haru was always there for her.
Her first real friend. The most important one.
When she faltered, he gave her a push. Without him, she might never have joined the band, never t Kita, never beco a guitarist shining onstage.
If they hadn’t crossed paths in that narrow school hallway, she might’ve gone on to graduate in obscurity, never daring to take a first step.
Compared to herself—
"Haru... you’re the real hero."
"...Huh?"
This ti, her voice wasn’t a whisper. She lifted her head.
Her pale, doll-like features were no longer hidden. Her eyes shone with conviction.
It was the first ti Haru had seen Bocchi like this, up close.
Usually she was a slouched, mumbling figure buried in baggy clothes and hair. But now, now she looked like soone made to stand in the spotlight.
"Ah—"
Only now did Bocchi realize what she’d just said. Her face instantly went cherry red.
"N-No, that’s not what I ant! I didn’t—I didn’t an anything weird! I just ant that this whole thing, that—well, not in that way, I just ant what you ant, so I was saying my aning was—!"
She flailed helplessly, her words devolving into gibberish.
The more she tried to explain, the worse it got. Her mind blanked completely. Silence filled the closet.
It was over.
She’d just blurted sothing totally misleading. Her life was finished.
There was only one move left—
Hiss—
She took a deep breath.
Thud!
"I’ll do anything, please forgive !"
The sound of her forehead slamming into the closet floor rang out like a drum. Bocchi’s perfect dogeza made Haru blink in surprise.
The line was too familiar. Without thinking, he replied reflexively.
"Apologies should co with an exposed che—"
"Okay!"
Suddenly Bocchi sat up and grabbed the zipper of her tracksuit.
He had seen her earlier, right? What did it matter now? If doing this would make things right, she was ready to go all in.
"Wait, I was joking!"
Haru reached out in a panic to stop her. But for once, Bocchi moved fast. Her zipper was halfway down by the ti he caught her hand.
Their positions shifted in the cramped space.
Her pink hair spilled over her shoulder, soft and shining. The light scent of her skin surrounded them. Her delicate face looked carved from porcelain.
Her blushing ears made Haru freeze.
"Ah..."
Bocchi, who usually kept her eyes shut, blinked slowly, and this ti, opened them.
Those moist, wide eyes t his just a fist’s length away. He was holding her hand.
The heat in his palm spread through her entire body.
Her head was spinning.
Just looking at Haru this close was intoxicating. If he let go of her hand, she’d probably clap her hands in prayer and thank the gods.
Just this mont alone could earn her a 30,000-word real-life romance thread on Twitter. Honestly, even if she died now, cradled in his warm embrace, it’d be worth it.
Unlike Bocchi’s runaway fantasy, Kazami Haru needed a long pause before his brain started working again.
"...Bocchi, you’re kind of an idiot, aren’t you?"
His tone was half teasing as he finally let go of her hand, trying to act composed. Seeing her face still flushed and unsure, he waited a beat before continuing.
"In any case, we just need to give it our all."
"No matter how it turns out, if we made the decision ourselves, we won’t regret it."
No regrets.
The light in Bocchi’s blue eyes shifted. Without realizing it, she tightened her small fists. That usually timid, fragile expression was replaced by sothing firm, like lting ice becoming water under the sun.
"Yeah!"
The short, simple reply rang with determination, as strong and steady as forged steel.
She wouldn’t dwell on what might happen afterward. She would give her all.
Even if it went badly, she’d still have stood on the stage she’d always dread of.
"I can’t hear you. Too quiet."
"Yeah!!"
"Good. Now that’s the spirit."
Watching her face, so different from before, Haru finally felt it, she had truly changed.
From the girl who used to freeze up around strangers, she was now soone who could face failure and still stand tall on her stage.
As the so-called "Guitar Hero," Bocchi had always been a diamond in the rough. With a little polish, she was bound to shine.
Her doubts and fears were nothing more than chains. They couldn’t stop her forever.
"We should probably get out of the closet now. Honestly, I’m running low on oxygen."
The truth was, being this close to a beautiful girl for so long was starting to wear on him.
"Eh?"
Bocchi blinked as Haru slid open the closet door.
Watching him crawl out gave her the strange feeling that sothing precious had just slipped away. That vague, aching emptiness quickly turned into resolve.
She couldn’t stay the sa. She had to move forward.
"Haru-san... I want to play guitar."
"...Did you just ignore everything I said for the past half hour?!"
...
Sumimi’s dressing room —
Misumi Uika, dressed in a gradient black-and-white performance dress, slumped wearily on the couch.
Her soft, golden shoulder-length hair spilled across her pale shoulders. Normally radiant and cool-eyed on stage, now her violet gaze was tinged with exhaustion.
"Ui-chan~ just tell !"
"Are you secretly dating soone? Who is it? Got a pic? Are they older or younger? I feel like you’d go for a younger guy, right? Don’t worry, I won’t tell the manager!"
Beside her, a brown-haired girl in matching costu chattered non-stop. Unlike Uika’s long dress, hers had a little tie and looked far more energetic, just like her.
This barrage of questions was giving Uika a headache.
"Mana-chan, I’ve told you a bunch of tis... I’m not dating anyone."
"Ahaha~ I don’t believe you."
Sumita Mana waved it off with a grin, the kind that begged to be smacked.
In her eyes, mature and calm Uika wouldn’t ask that kind of question unless a boy had stolen her heart. Clearly, she was trying to figure out her feelings under the pretense of seeking advice.
Smart Mana had seen through it all!
Sighing, Uika sat up and asked, half-defeated, "Aren’t we shooting the MV later? Are you even ready?"
"Oh no! I forgot the donuts... There won’t be ti to eat once we start. We both need to fuel up!"
Pale, Mana bolted out of the room.
Alone at last, Uika let out a tired sigh. When she picked up her phone, a soft smile appeared on her lips. Her violet eyes, dim monts ago, now held a quiet glow.
"I really want so braised pork right now..."
But who knew when she’d get to eat it again?
She thought back to the night they’d chatted. Her smile deepened. Without realizing it, she opened a certain person’s LINE profile, thumb hovering over the chat.
Buzz—
Her phone vibrated.
The caller ID read: "Sakiko."
Uika’s pupils narrowed slightly. She quickly answered and brought the phone to her ear.
"Hello, Saki-chan?"
[Sorry, Uika... you’re probably still working, right? Hope this isn’t a bad ti.]
"I’m on break. It’s fine."
Her voice was soft, but a flicker of suspicion crossed her heart.
[That’s good... I didn’t really have anything important. Just wanted to check in and ask how Ave Mujica’s new song is coming along. You’ve t with Haru recently, right? Thought maybe you’d started working on lyrics or sothing.]
Lyrics?
Of course Sakiko would care about progress. Ave Mujica would schedule their debut live as soon as the composition was ready. If Sakiko pushed a little every day, it wouldn’t be weird.
If it was just that, Uika could relax.
"Sorry, Saki-chan... I only talked to Kazami-kun briefly. Just a rough outline for the lyrics."
[No worries! Take your ti, okay? No rush on the lyrics. But speaking of working with Haru, have you been to his place recently?]
Uika tightened her grip on the phone.
That question brought all her earlier tension rushing back. But as a seasoned idol, she didn’t let it show.
With barely a pause, she answered smoothly:
"Hmm? No, I haven’t."
[...I see. I must’ve rembered wrong. Don’t worry about it! You probably have more work to do, so I’ll let you go. I’ll ssage you later with Ave Mujica’s next training schedule.]
After a few more polite words, Sakiko finally hung up.
Still holding the phone in both hands, Uika sat there for several seconds, eyes dim with aning. Her brows furrowed slightly.
She’d lied... instinctively.
It was the first ti she’d ever lied to Sakiko and the feeling unsettled her.
"...It should be fine. I just can’t let Saki-chan know about this yet."
It was a lie told out of kindness. For Sakiko’s happiness.
Once she figured everything out, she’d tell her everything.
---
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