When Nijika mentioned the past, Hitori froze for a moment.
His mind gradually replayed the scene from back then—him sitting on the swing not far away, getting approached by a classmate and invited to join a band.
It had been way too memorable.
So memorable that it could honestly be called the root of all evil.
Hitori's expression immediately started flooring the gas pedal toward full-on overacting mode.
But considering the situation, if he acted too weird right now, he'd probably wreck the mood of the conversation.
So he bit down hard on his tongue, then gave the flesh at his waist a ruthless twist—trying to use sharp pain to force himself awake.
And yes, he stayed conscious.
But what Hitori failed to consider was that pain didn't make his face look better—it made it look even worse.
Beside him, Nijika noticed his complexion turning pale, then green, then pale again. Sweat even started beading on his forehead, so she hurriedly handed him the rest of the tissues.
"Sorry, sorry! Bringing that up out of nowhere was weird, wasn't it? Just treat it like I said it casually, okay? Please, please don't take it to heart!"
Facing Nijika's slightly panicked gaze, Hitori hurriedly shook his head.
"No, um… I don't think it's weird. I just… remembered some other things."
Nijika immediately understood—he meant his former bandmates, the ones who'd done plenty of awful things.
"It's about the band, right?"
She turned her face away, lowered her gaze to her thighs, and her voice grew faint. Her hands clasped together, her thumbs rubbing hard against each other.
"I've heard about you from my sister, so I know a little about what your old bandmates did… Being in a band with people that terrible must've been really hard… really hard."
After murmuring that, Nijika turned back, looking at Hitori with apology.
"I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you what was in my heart, but I ended up making you remember something unpleasant."
Seeing the girl who'd been curled up on the bench sobbing just a little while ago—finally calming down—now apologizing to him just to protect his feelings…
Hitori felt something twist inside his chest.
He fell silent for a moment, arranging words in his mind. When he finally knew what to say, he spoke.
"…Please don't say that."
His voice was steadier than he expected.
Maybe it was because he'd met Kita, he thought.
Hitori felt like he could at least manage a little normal conversation with cheerful girls now.
"I don't feel offended… or uncomfortable. So please don't apologize, Nijika. You didn't do anything wrong."
"I'm grateful you're considerate of me, but the one who needs that kind of consideration most right now… I think it should be Nijika herself."
Hitori's hand slowly clenched into a fist, fingers digging so hard into his palm it almost hurt.
He was afraid that if he started talking, he'd lose steam halfway—failing to comfort her and only making things more awkward.
But stronger than the fear coiling inside him—
was the desire to help her.
"Why do you have to worry about other people's feelings when you're hurting? If it were me, I think… I couldn't be as gentle as you."
"If I feel bad, then I feel bad. If I'm sad, then I'm sad. When I don't want to do something… I should just close my eyes and run away. And when I finally have the courage to pull myself together one day, then I can face the scary things. It's not too late."
"But… wouldn't that be kind of childish?"
Nijika hadn't expected Hitori to say so much.
Her lips parted and closed a few times, still trying to keep that strained smile on her face.
"Then be a childish kid."
Hitori closed his eyes, his voice sounding like he was going all in.
"Even if you can't become someone amazing, that's fine. If you can treat yourself well, you're already an excellent person."
"We all grew up from childish kids. We all troubled our parents, troubled our families, to become who we are… There's no reason that once we become adults, our right to rely on others should get taken away."
"So… please don't apologize. At least when you're hurting, don't force yourself anymore. Do whatever you want—anything you want—to feel a little better."
"As long as it makes your heart feel lighter… then no matter what it is, it's the right thing."
Nijika stared at Hitori—who'd already lowered his head and basically delivered that whole speech to the bench.
She realized she couldn't refute him.
More accurately… she couldn't deny the way her eyes were stinging again, her nose itching again.
She couldn't even remember when she'd started forcing herself so much—when she'd gotten used to taking care of everyone else.
In her memories, when she was little, she'd clearly been the kind of mischievous kid who'd puff up in anger if her sister didn't play with her—sometimes even bursting into loud, ugly crying.
How had she become like this?
…Probably because Mom had left too early.
No one gently called her to wake up anymore.
No one tied her hair for her every day anymore.
No one placed her favorite breakfast in front of her, smiling indulgently as they watched her leave for school anymore.
So she slowly became independent.
She tucked all her immature feelings away deep inside herself, leaving the childish version of her back in the past.
She learned to set her own alarm and get up alone.
She learned to use different ribbons and tie her hair in different styles.
She learned to put on an apron and make breakfast—then drag her still-sleepy sister out of bed.
Step by step, she kept moving forward.
Trying again and again to become an adult who could stand on her own.
And somewhere along the way… she simply forgot.
That she was someone who needed to be cared for, too.
That she didn't always have to solve everything alone.
That she didn't always have to fear that if she didn't do something, her life would fall apart—taking her sister down with it.
All this time, she'd worn bright, sunny smiles through failure after failure.
She'd forced herself into an upbeat, outgoing attitude and lied to herself to keep walking forward.
She believed that if she suffered enough, one day the suffering would end.
That if she just endured long enough, one day her dream would come true.
But now someone was telling her—
That even being a childish kid was okay.
That when she didn't want to face reality, choosing to run away was okay.
Could she really do that?
She asked herself softly in her heart.
The first thing that answered wasn't her inner voice—
but the tears that slipped down her cheeks before she even noticed.
Nijika's nose turned completely red. Heat spread across her pale face all the way to her ears.
She lowered her head, trembling, as more and more memories surged up into her fragile chest—
The funeral she'd lived through as a child.
Standing in the audience as she grew up, watching her best friend perform on a stage… without her.
Three years of high school, two years of college—never forming a proper band even once, trapped in the endless loop of quitting bands and searching for bands.
And now, in the blink of an eye, she was here—watching her sister grow more and more exhausted, wanting to share the burden and give up her dream for reality… only to end up fighting with her sister more and more fiercely each time.
The more Nijika thought, the worse it hurt.
Countless grievances sprouted in her chest—and with her sobs, they spilled out, leaving behind clean, emptied soil in her heart.
Hitori didn't say anything. He simply set the tissues aside.
At times like this, words weren't that important.
If he quietly waited while the emotions piled up inside her poured out through the crack that had finally opened—then naturally, she wouldn't feel as suffocated as before.
That was what experience had taught him.
But what Hitori didn't anticipate was that after Nijika cried with her head lowered for a while, she suddenly shifted closer to him.
Before he could react, he felt a light touch against his shoulder.
When he looked down—
Nijika had rested her forehead on his shoulder, the little horn-like cowlicks on her head drooping toward him as well.
Like an injured little animal, crying in broken, uneven sobs—desperate to cling to something as support.
This was… beyond the syllabus.
In only a few seconds, Hitori's face evolved through a perfect sequence:
from the basic "sweating bullets" form,
to the "spiral eyes with heavy shadow" panic form,
to an even more frantic "classic 609 expression,"
and finally, full mechanical ascension into cyberpsycho mode.
The "resistance to girls" he'd managed to forge through constant, high-intensity exposure to Kita's sunshine—
was now completely annihilated.
He tried to scoot a little to the side—even reducing the contact by the tiniest amount would've been great.
But a hand lightly caught his clothes.
Hitori's heart nearly leapt out of his chest.
People said crying girls were unbeatable.
Today, Hitori experienced just how true that was.
And it still wasn't over.
After grabbing his shirt, Nijika whispered softly:
"Please… don't go. Let me lean on you for a bit… just a bit."
With that one sentence, Hitori went completely silent.
This could no longer be described as "off-script."
It was like everyone was still dueling with cold weapons, and someone suddenly pulled out a firearm.
Like not even knowing how the game works yet, and immediately running into the Tree Sentinel—the one that kindly helps you refund within two hours.
The fact that Hitori didn't collapse into a slime and could still maintain the bare minimum human shape—
meant he was already giving it everything he had.
When he finally reconnected his brain and regained awareness—
Nijika seemed to have stopped crying.
She sat quietly beside him, close enough that only a palm's width separated them.
No longer bathed in warm streetlight that softened her face and made even her forced smile feel reassuring—
now she sat with Hitori in the shadow where the light couldn't reach.
Above them was a starry night.
In front of them were ordinary plants and houses—nothing special.
A cool breeze occasionally drifted past their ears, carrying the stillness of night, stealing away a bit of the lingering heat on her cheeks and the swelling around her eyes, leaving behind a scent like wet soil after rain.
Neither of them spoke.
Yet it didn't feel lonely.
Everything felt natural—perfectly at ease.
Even the silence itself became something precious.
Hitori blinked a few times, then slowly turned his eyes toward Nijika. As if they were in sync, after a moment she tilted her face slightly and caught his gaze with the corner of her eye.
"Hitori revived too?"
She smiled.
This time, you could really hear the brightness in her voice.
"Sorry about earlier. I was doing fine, but after hearing what you said, I suddenly cried like a mess… I ended up showing you such an embarrassing side of me."
"Ah—no… if anything, it's my fault. I said a bunch of unnecessary things…" Hitori waved his hands in a panic.
"How could it be your fault? I think you're amazing, Hitori."
Nijika lifted one finger and twirled it in the air.
"If you hadn't run all the way here to find me, I definitely would still be feeling terrible right now. And you returned what I lost to me, so I finally had the strength to cry properly—to let all the negative stuff I'd been hoarding inside spill out… That's all because of you."
"If it were just me alone… I wouldn't have been able to pull myself together."
Hitori scratched the back of his head awkwardly. His "can't handle praise" trait activated again.
His mouth insisted, No, no, not at all, while his face basically screamed, You can praise me more if you want.
Watching him brighten up, Nijika felt her own mood lift too.
"Hitori… can I ask you for one more thing?"
"I want to complain a little more. I want to tell you all my worries… properly, from start to finish."
"Ah… please do!"
Hitori immediately assumed the posture of someone ready to listen with full sincerity.
"It's not anything super important, so you don't have to be that serious, okay? I really just want to complain a little."
Nijika smiled.
Then she made a small, troubled sound—like she was thinking about where to begin.
But soon she sorted her thoughts out, lifted her gaze toward the night sky, and spoke slowly:
"I… actually have a dream."
"I want to form a band that can last, and perform at the live house my sister runs—so I can help her fulfill the wish she couldn't finish back then…"
"I want us to become a popular band, and make my sister's venue—STARRY—more famous."
"But the sad part is… I've never been able to realize that dream. I couldn't even take the first step. Even now, I still haven't put together a band that can actually perform at the live house."
"If it were someone else, they'd probably give up by now, right? A band isn't exactly a future that draws people in. It's hard to even call it a proper job… and even if you're lucky enough to go pro, there's always the risk of breaking up for all kinds of reasons."
"So… most people just want to treat being in a band like something they do for fun."
Hitori quietly lowered his eyes.
He understood that sentence too well.
His old band had been exactly like that—no one took it seriously except him.
So he understood the bitterness and helplessness behind Nijika's words.
He could feel it.
Nijika—just like him—had been hurt because of bands.
In a way…
they were the same kind of person.
"But even so… I still want to do everything I can to make that dream real."
Nijika continued.
Her voice was calm, like she was telling a story.
"It's not only because I want to fulfill my sister's wish. There's another reason too."
"My sister and I promised that STARRY would become a place where the sound from here could reach Mom… so Mom could always know that my sister and I are doing fine—so she wouldn't worry about us up there in heaven."
Hitori parted his lips slightly.
He hadn't expected Nijika—who always looked so energetic and cheerful when she smiled—to have lost her mother so early.
He remembered that faint, choked "Mom…" he'd heard when he first arrived at the park.
And looking at Nijika now—her face calm, like she'd already accepted it, no longer breaking down over the loss—
it felt like something was stuffed hard into Hitori's chest.
He couldn't say a word.
He could only sit there and quietly listen as she spoke.
"It's just… I might have overestimated myself."
"If I could, I really want to be someone strong. Someone who can stand up again no matter how many times I fail, until one day I reach my dream."
"But I'm already an adult. In two more years, I'll graduate from college and become a real working member of society."
"People my age are already planning paths for their future."
"But I'm still obsessed with this dream of forming a band… and I still haven't even found the members."
"All these practical realities force me to think—am I making the right choice by continuing to insist on forming a band?"
"Our family isn't exactly well-off. If I make the wrong decision, my sister might have to carry an even heavier burden…"
"In fact, she already has so much more white hair. I really don't want to keep making her work herself to exhaustion."
"So I tried to talk to her—asked if I could put the band on hold for now and help her shoulder some of the load…"
"But she got really angry and lectured me. She used to be the kind of person who'd tell me, 'If it doesn't work out, you can play band like make-believe for your whole life.'"
"But now she told me not to give up on my dream so easily. That if I'd decided to form a band, I should see it through to the end."
"So we fought for a long, long time—almost every day. Until she told me…"
"If I really planned to give up on the band, then STARRY didn't need to exist anymore."
At that point, Nijika stopped talking.
"…And then you ran away from home?" Hitori filled in quietly.
Nijika nodded.
"…I've always known STARRY was something my sister created for me. She left her own band behind, worked for a long time, and finally built it."
"So if even I gave up on the dream… my sister really wouldn't have a reason to keep going."
"I understand all that."
"But… I really couldn't do it."
"I really don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore."
Nijika lowered her head.
"I don't want STARRY to disappear. And I don't want my sister to keep working herself into the ground for me."
"But I can't find people to form a band with. Even if I found them now, I can't guarantee it won't fail again like before."
"And even if it doesn't fail, I can't guarantee we'll become a popular band—can't guarantee we'll save STARRY…"
"The only thing I could do… was run away."
Nijika looked at Hitori.
Under her bright smile was exhaustion that ran bottomless.
Hitori couldn't know how many times she'd tried during that period she'd brushed over in only a few sentences—how many people she'd tried to form bands with, how many times she'd failed.
What she'd thought when she failed.
What she'd thought when she tried to encourage herself to stand up again.
What she'd thought when hope ignited—only to shatter again.
Hitori didn't know.
The only thing he knew…
was that Nijika's smile looked tired.
Like a repaired piece of porcelain—patched back together, yet the cracks still spread across its surface. The more you stared at those cracks, the more you understood it had once been broken.
"All right—gloom time over! Thanks for listening to me talk so much, Hitori. After saying all that out loud, I really do feel a lot better."
Nijika suddenly clapped her hands hard a few times, as if declaring that everything she'd said was in the past.
Then she put on a bright smile to reassure him.
"What are you going to do next, Nijika?" Hitori asked.
"…I guess I'll call my sister and have her pick me up."
Nijika glanced at her injured knee. Her cheerful smile turned helpless.
"With my knee like this, I can't exactly go wandering around."
"…Are you sure you're okay?" Hitori looked worried. "You… probably aren't ready to go back yet."
"Yeah, I'm not ready," Nijika sighed. "If I could, I'd like to run away a bit longer—wait until I'm prepared, until I've figured out what I should do… then go back and tell my sister my plan."
Her little horn-like cowlicks drooped with her sigh, making her look a little wronged.
"But aside from home, I don't have anywhere else to go."
"Normally my money is kept with my sister. Now that we're fighting, I probably can't get any of it…"
"And the money left on my phone isn't enough to keep staying in hotels. So I can only go back and apologize…"
Watching Nijika slump, Hitori remembered what Hiroi Kikuri had said to him at the restaurant.
[Big Sis, aren't we going to send her back?]
[Of course we're sending her back—but not right now. That's just my personal take. What to do in the end… is up to you.]
Back then, Hitori hadn't understood why Kikuri didn't want to just drag a runaway kid straight back home.
Now he understood.
Nijika's running away wasn't really about the fight with her sister.
The root of it was her confusion about where her life should go.
She didn't know whether she should keep clinging to her dream—keep forcing the band thing, keep "lonely rocking" down this road of no return until she couldn't turn back—
or, like him, put the instrument down, cut her losses, and live a quiet, ordinary life tucked into a corner of reality.
If he forced her back right now, she might fall straight back into anxious self-consuming spirals—unable to make a real choice, while the conflict between the sisters could easily get worse.
So the best choice right now—
was to let Nijika and her sister stay apart for a while.
Until the day Nijika was ready.
Until she stopped running away.
Hitori's mind replayed Kikuri's words again:
[If you truly believe you won't regret it—if even if you could do it over, you'd still choose the same—then do it boldly.]
[I'll be behind you, backing you up.]
Hitori didn't know if it was just his imagination, but it felt like Kikuri had predicted this exact situation.
Still, he couldn't imagine the Kikuri he knew being some brilliant strategist. "Half-reliable, half-not, drunken mess" fit her much better.
So he shoved the thoughts aside.
He took several deep breaths, trying to steady himself. He tried again and again… and failed every time.
In the end, he could only force the words out like a duck shoved onto a stage.
"Um… Nijika…"
Nijika looked over immediately.
And under those bright crimson eyes—
every line Hitori had painstakingly drafted in his head vanished into nothing.
He covered his face, thinking he should just not say something this embarrassing.
But then he remembered her exhausted smile.
And the way she'd rested her head against his shoulder, hot tears sliding down her cheeks.
Hitori let out a slow breath, then used the thumbnail of his thumb to dig hard into the skin of his index finger behind his back—forcing himself to stay calm as he said to Nijika:
"…If you don't mind… you can stay at my place for a while."
Boom—
In an instant, Nijika's mind felt like it had been plowed over by hundreds of missiles.
The explosion was so loud—
earth-shaking, sky-changing—
that she couldn't hear anything else.
She sat there, stunned, for a long time.
Only then did her audio and video sync back up, and she finally understood what the man in front of her—whose face was completely falling apart, features flying everywhere—was trying to say.
"%(&%…%¥&¥#…!"
Stay at my place…
At my dad and mom's place…
Maybe because she'd been around Hitori too long—
Nijika felt like she could vaguely interpret Hitori's garbled speech in this state.
"So what you mean is… if I don't mind, I can temporarily stay at your parents' house for a while. Is that right?"
Hitori nodded furiously.
Nijika finally let out a quiet sigh of relief… though her pale cheeks were still hot, and her eyes drifted away for a moment.
Because for one brief instant, she'd thought—
If he doesn't mean his parents' house… and he means his own… then what choice would I make?
And before she could even find an answer—
her thoughts jumped somewhere completely different:
Wait… did I wear a matching set of underwear today?
That was exactly why her face was burning now, and she couldn't look him in the eyes.
Because she was old enough to be considered an adult now…
Hearing someone say "Do you want to come stay at my place"…
you really, really could misunderstand it—
Nijika's little horn-like cowlicks spun in quick circles as she fought to steady her emotions. Then she looked back at Hitori, speaking in a tone that was serious… and also faintly, strangely happy.
"…Ahem. Hitori. Before I answer you, I think I have to warn you."
"This kind of thing—this kind of line—you absolutely, absolutely, absolutely can't casually say it to other girls in the future, okay?"
"Ah… okay."
Hitori didn't understand why, but he nodded obediently anyway.
In his head he was thinking: I don't even live with my parents, so if people know, they know. As long as they don't find out where my tiny rental is, it's fine.
After I get Nijika settled, I'll see if I can sprint back to the station with everything I've got, then ride two hours back to keep Bocchi company.
But seeing Nijika so serious, he still took her words to heart. Yeah… that sentence really does have… implications. Better not say it casually again.
Not that he'd ever really have another chance to say it.
He'd only be willing to say something like that because it was Nijika.
"Very good, Hitori! You're such a good kid!" Nijika nodded in satisfaction. "Now it's my turn to answer your question."
Then she coughed lightly twice again and said, a little embarrassed:
"…I'm really happy to meet your parents. Thank you for being willing to introduce me to them."
"And also… um. This is a little hard to say, but… could you lend me a little money…?"
"For a first visit, I really can't go empty-handed. I have to bring a gift at least. Don't worry! I'll pay you back on time! You can really, really trust me on that!"
"I don't think you need to bring a gift…" Hitori muttered.
"No, you have to!" Nijika instantly rejected it, crossing her arms in an X.
"Listen, Hitori—you helped me a lot. I've received your kindness, so I should find a way to repay you. I can't just take advantage of you with a clear conscience."
"I have to be worthy of your help—worthy of the goodwill you offered me. Even if you think it's unnecessary, I still want to prove your judgment wasn't wrong… something like that."
Then she smiled brightly, eyes curved with warmth.
"And in the end… I still want to say it again."
"Thank you, Hitori."
"No—actually, I should say… Guitar Hero."
"Today, you really were like a hero."
Hitori went a little blank.
He didn't know what he was supposed to say.
Nijika seemed to notice, so she asked:
"By the way, how are we getting there? Train?"
"Ah… yeah, we'll take the train," Hitori nodded after snapping back. "But it might take a while… I'm really sorry…"
"It's fine, it's fine! My knee's hurt anyway—sitting longer is good for recovery."
Nijika started to reassure him, then immediately realized that with her condition, even getting onto the train would be a problem.
She glanced at Hitori.
Hitori blinked, understood, stood up from the bench, walked in front of her, turned around one-eighty, then dropped to one knee.
"Um… if you don't mind… I can carry you on my back…"
Nijika sat there stunned for a long time.
She should've guessed.
If they were going to the station together, this was the most likely solution.
One person carries the injured person to the station.
Cheaper.
And less painful.
But even so…
actually seeing him kneel and offer his back—
she didn't know what to do.
She wanted to stand up and walk.
But her knee refused to let her abuse her body like that.
A little shifting was okay, but absolutely no big movements.
With no choice left, Nijika carefully tried to climb onto his back.
The sharp pain in her knee made her grateful she hadn't insisted on walking to the station.
But the sudden sensation of weightlessness made her reflexively grab his shoulders like a frightened kitten.
And to be honest—
Hitori's shoulders were almost as hard as steel.
It was hard to imagine how long he'd worked at the restaurant to end up with shoulders like this.
When she grabbed him, she thought for sure she'd fall.
But when she opened the eyes she'd squeezed shut—
she found herself already steady on his back, leaving the park with him.
For a reason even she didn't fully understand, Nijika reached out and lightly touched Hitori's back.
His back wasn't particularly broad.
But it was… reassuring.
Nijika's lips slowly curved upward.
That was enough.
-------
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Losing Money on Uma Musume...What Do You Mean You Actually Won? (93 Chapter)
I'm Gotou Hitori—Who Are You? (40 Chapter)
Were You Ever Even a Uma Musume? Stop Making Things Up! (75 Chapter)
Moon Project: A Full-Time Love Adventure for the Lobotomy Corporation (75 Chapter)
The Leisurely Days of the Hyuga Main House (65 Chapter)
Arknights : A Draco Surviving in a Matriarchal Terra (115 Chapter)
Arknights: What if My Luck Is Too Good? (105 Chapter)
Honkai: The Romance System Only Shows Up After I Marry Mei (55 Chapter)
Arknights: Who Are You Calling Repressed, X?! (105 Chapter)
The Chat Group Only Arrived After I'd Cleared the Game (42 Chapter)
Gojo Satoru Flat-Out Refuses to Admit He's a Supporting Character (40 Chapter)
Chat Group Isn't Supposed to Be Like This! (30 Chapter)
If You're Moriarty…then Who Am I? (50 Chapter)
Uma Musume: Since I "Can't See," They Take Turns Stealing My Underwear (50 Chapter)
Arknights: Why Are All My "Brothers" Girls? (54 Chapter)
Danmachi: Start Training Haki (47 Chapter)
Emiya Shirou's Rebirth (30 Chapter)
I Can Get Stronger Just by AFK'ing—So I Joined a Chat Group (50 Chapter)
Endfield: I Can Always Pull Out One Yuan (40 Chapter)
Limbus Company : I Started a Company in Project Moon (50 Chapter)
Lobotomy: Do Cooks of Alley 23 Dream of Bloodfiend Knights? (50 Chapter)
DanMachi: Freya Familia's "One-Blade Shura" (40 Chapter)
DanMachi: Emiya, the Great Hero Becomes the Protagonist (46 Chapter)
TYPE-MOON: One Special Instance Every Week (40 Chapter)
From Danmachi: The Abundance Apothecary (43 Chapter)
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