Twilight seeped into the slightly faded noren of the izakaya in the shopping district. Kawaragi Momoka leaned against the public notice board by the engawa steps, tuning her guitar strings. The sea breeze carried messages from Chiba Port. Dusk was approaching, and the pedestrians on the street seemed to be hurrying a bit more.
Her guitar case was empty. Although it wasn't the first time she had encountered such a situation, the girl still felt a bit melancholic, and her hopes for the future seemed even more uncertain.
Ever since she left her old band due to ideological differences, life had been difficult. Without the fixed salary from the management company and the earnings from performing at Livehouses, even living in Tokyo became tough. She had no choice but to move to Chiba, which was at least still within the Tokyo metropolitan area, so it wasn't as embarrassing to say.
But this couldn't go on. Even the cheapest rent and food cost money. And Kawaragi Momoka, who was about to 'graduate' from the term 'girl,' had pockets that were almost cleaner than her face. Of course, this didn't mean her face was dirty...
"Should I try looking somewhere else?"
She always felt that Chiba seemed to inexplicably have a lot of snakes. Occasionally, when she'd crouch in front of a vending machine to pick up coins that had fallen underneath, she'd find herself face-to-face with a snake hiding there.
Unfortunately, Kawaragi Momoka was extremely afraid of snakes.
In the distance, the sound of music from other street performers seemed to drift over.
Kawaragi Momoka curiously put away her guitar and walked towards the source of the sound. She found a somewhat tipsy purple-haired bassist performing a simple act on the roadside with a guitarist who looked like she was only a high school student.
Perhaps because their interaction and performance were so unique and eye-catching, even though they had only been performing for a short while, several passing students and pedestrians had already stopped to watch.
"...So strong."
As the saying goes, amateurs watch the show, while professionals watch the craft. Other passersby were mostly drawn because both performers were beautiful girls, and the tipsy bassist's unpredictable behavior seemed amusing, which is why they gathered. However, Kawaragi Momoka, a music professional who had also been in a band, keenly noticed more.
Both the tipsy bassist and the guitarist, who seemed either aloof or socially anxious, were professional-level in their playing skills. Even though it was an impromptu performance, the effect was quite captivating. If it had been unpleasant, not so many people would have stayed.
The bassist was one thing; she seemed to be playing casually, clearly not at her full potential. But the guitarist, who was humming softly along to the tune, gave Kawaragi Momoka a special feeling that was hard to describe.
If she had to put it into words, it was perhaps similar to how a friend from her mahjong club felt when she encountered a player from Kiyosumi High during the prefectural tournament, back when Kawaragi Momoka hadn't dropped out of school yet.
"That girl named Miyanaga Saki, she's like a Demon Lord. Even if she just walks past you when you're going to the restroom..." Her friend was still trembling after returning, looking shaken: "I felt like I was going to wet myself."
At the time, Kawaragi Momoka thought her friend was talking nonsense. Everyone was just a normal Japanese high school student, not some killer. How could such an unscientific thing happen?
But at that moment, upon witnessing the pink-haired girl humming and playing, Kawaragi Momoka felt a genuine sense of shock.
It wasn't just surprise at her talent; after all, in the music industry, being repeatedly beaten by prodigies was commonplace. Even Kawaragi Momoka, who her manager once called 'very talented,' had long been accustomed to being crushed by various geniuses during her various Live performances and competitions.
The key was that the pink-haired guitarist gave Kawaragi Momoka a distinct, hard-to-describe, mysterious shock, similar to triggering 'inspiration.'
It was like an ordinary singer suddenly encountering the legendary Siren. In that situation, it wouldn't just be about being unable to defeat her even with all one's might; it's likely one wouldn't even have the heart to compete.
She naturally wouldn't know that the pink-haired girl, who was humming along to the tune to alleviate her social anxiety, was, in a sense, truly a 'Siren' whose singing had magical power. So she could only lament deep down: Is even street performing in Chiba this competitive now...?
Maybe I should just go back home.
Although it wasn't the first time Kawaragi Momoka had wanted to give up, feeling this disheartened was a first.
Just then, their performance ended.
Two girls by the roadside, drawn in by the pink-haired guitarist, immediately surrounded her, happily expressing their love for the guitarist's recent performance—it was clear that many others around them felt similarly, they just weren't as outgoing as those two socially adept girls.
But the pink-haired guitarist, who moments ago seemed like a Siren descending beside her, was now acting exceptionally shy, mumbling incoherently.
Kawaragi Momoka instinctively didn't leave. Instead, she moved closer and listened carefully for a moment, finally making out that the other party seemed to be trying to sell tickets to her Livehouse performance to the two young women.
Kawaragi Momoka first instinctively showed an expression of 'Oh, how nostalgic, our band seemed to go through this period too,' but then she couldn't help but reveal her astonishment: 'Even a band with a guitarist of this caliber can only huddle in an underground Livehouse to perform? How competitive is the band scene in Chiba?!'
No, no, no, I must be mistaken. There's no way the band scene in Chiba could be more competitive than in Tokyo, right?
After the guitarist mumbled incoherently for a long time, saying her previous Live performances had been failures, and the professional bassist chimed in, saying she couldn't go on stage without alcohol, Kawaragi Momoka felt even more numb: If a guitarist and bassist who are so wonderful in street performances can't even have good results in proper Live performances, then what was her past guitar playing? Unburnable trash?
Kawaragi Momoka, who was about to graduate from being a girl, sighed. Just as she was about to leave, she saw a boy with glasses, heterochromatic eyes, and bandages wrapped around his hand, looking like he hadn't graduated from his chuunibyou phase, appear from somewhere.
"Hitori, why are you here?"
He asked the siren-like pink-haired girl.
"I..."
The pink-haired girl trembled as if she were a little mermaid who had come ashore but hadn't killed the prince, about to turn into foam and disappear. Then she clutched her guitar and fled: "I don't know either—guha?!"
As the saying goes, guitarists attract each other. Of course, it's also possible that the pink-haired girl wasn't looking where she was going, so in her frantic escape, she violently crashed into Kawaragi Momoka, who hadn't managed to dodge. Both of them let out sounds like a flat-squashed anglerfish.