"No... it's nothing. I just... don't feel like eating right now."
Startled by Shiro Sakamaki's sudden voice, Akiyama Mio, who had been focused on tuning her bass, flinched slightly. Her nerves kicked in, and she stumbled over her words awkwardly.
That was just how Mio was—mature in appearance, but shy and sensitive underneath. She was easily frightened and had a low tolerance for pain, often needing to resort to self-hypnosis to calm herself.
"Since this is club time, we should be doing things together. Tuning can wait," Shiro said gently but firmly.
Under his insistence, Mio reluctantly put her bass aside.
As a result, the Light Music Club resumed its usual tea party mood. No one brought up the idea of actual practice again—until club time was nearly over.
Snapping out of the laid-back atmosphere, Mio checked the time and promptly gave Ritsu Tainaka a solid chop on the head.
"Hey! Mio, what was that for?" Ritsu protested, rubbing the spot where she'd been hit.
"You haven't practiced in a week, Ritsu!"
Mio's sharp words left Ritsu speechless. She had no defense.
Mio's eyes turned to Yui Hirasawa next. "And Yui, how's the guitar I gave you? Can you play the practice songs smoothly yet?"
"Ah, well... um... you see..."
Mio then looked at Tsumugi Kotobuki. Unlike the other two, Mugi smiled brightly, her curiosity piqued rather than discouraged.
She nodded enthusiastically, her thick eyebrows bouncing like little pickled radishes—an oddly adorable sight.
But unlike with Ritsu and Yui, Mio couldn't bring herself to criticize Mugi. She glanced toward Shiro, still calmly sipping tea. The memory of his performance earlier flooded back, and her confidence began to crumble.
Sensing this, Ritsu subtly nudged Shiro under the table with her foot.
"What's wrong?" he asked, surprised.
Ritsu froze for a second, then gave her best innocent grin when she noticed Mio's stare.
"We're a light music club, right? That means our activities should mostly focus on music," she declared, her tone overly serious for comedic effect. "Mugi, from now on, don't bring out the snacks until we've practiced at least a little. Or these two will never get anything done."
"Okay, if you say so, Mio," Mugi replied with a smile.
Mio nodded, then addressed the group. "You've all heard how good Shiro is. If we don't improve, we'll only be holding him back. So let's step up our game!"
Ritsu stuffed a cookie into her mouth, still nonchalant. "Come on, we're just students. It's not like we're professionals like Shiro."
Before she could chew her next bite, Mio's hand came down hard on her head again.
"You're the one who said you wanted us to perform at the Budokan, remember? You think we'll get there just sitting around eating sweets?!"
Rubbing her head again, Ritsu pouted. "Okay, okay, I get it. Let's start practicing. We've still got over half an hour."
She pushed the snacks aside and stood up with mock grandeur. "As club president, I now declare today's official practice session begins!"
After finishing his art practice, Shiro stretched and made his way to the living room.
He glanced at his computer and saw that Machida Sonoko had left a flood of messages, all related to his novel's publishing progress. He responded to each one carefully, then flopped onto the beanbag chair nearby.
A soft breeze blew in through the open window, rustling the curtains and bringing with it a fresh, calming air.
Shiro: Eriri, want to check out my latest sketch?
He attached a photo of the portrait he'd just finished, then leaned back and turned on the projector to catch up on the news, waiting for her reply.
After a short while, her message popped up:
Eriri: You didn't just find this online, did you? Don't try to fool me with a random sketch from "online" or something.
Shiro: Do you really think I'm that bored?
To prove his point, he followed up with photos of his room, his sketch setup, and the drawing in progress.
The sketch depicted a sculpture-style portrait, the muscle lines clean and elegant, detailed with an artist's understanding of form and tension—far beyond the level of a beginner.
Shiro: Not bad, right? I think I've got some real talent.
Eriri: You seriously need to be smacked sometimes... If I could beat you, I totally would!
Shiro chuckled at her reply. Even without seeing her in person, he could clearly imagine Eriri grinding her teeth in frustration, typing with a scowl on her face.
If he were in her room right now, she'd definitely tackle him and try to bite his shoulder—just like old times.
Shiro: What can I say? I'm just too good. Even I can't help being impressed sometimes.
Eriri, still at her desk, stared at his message in silence. She admitted Shiro was impressive, but that self-praise of his... it just rubbed her the wrong way.
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