The new semester had finally arrived — and with it, the very first day.
Tsushima Kagami and Yukinoshita Shizuku ate breakfast together, then headed downstairs with their packed lunches, climbed into Tsukuyomi Komoe's car waiting for them outside, and made their way to school.
At noon, Kagami pulled two bento boxes out from his desk. He turned and perched himself on Shimizu Nayotake's desk, sliding one of them across to her.
"Shizuku made this one specifically for you."
"Don't worry — no green peppers this time."
"And — thank you for coming to keep Shizuku company that night."
"We were actually going to invite you over the day before yesterday when we moved, but it turned out you weren't working at the convenience store or the ramen place."
Kagami opened his own bento and ate as he chatted with Nayotake.
"That's alright."
"Tell Shizuku I said thank you, too."
Nayotake opened her bento box to find perfectly golden-fried chicken cutlets, char siu, and crispy fried shrimp — nothing but hearty mains, not a vegetable in sight. She couldn't help but swallow.
"I told her to make it all meat. I knew you'd love it."
"Shizuku kept insisting on nutritional balance, that she needed to add vegetables."
"I talked her right out of it. Because nothing beats meat for happiness, right?"
Kagami grinned as he ate.
Nayotake laughed too, and lifted a piece of pork cutlet with her chopsticks. She took a blissful, satisfied bite, then smiled over at Kagami with a small nod of genuine appreciation.
"Um..."
"Would it be alright if I ate lunch with you two?"
Both Kagami and Nayotake turned at the same time. Ijichi Seika was standing in front of Nayotake's desk, bento box in hand, expression caught somewhere between hopeful and uncertain.
"Of course."
Kagami said it, then glanced over at Shimizu Nayotake. Nayotake gave a small nod.
Only then did Seika release the faint flutter of nerves she'd been holding, smile, and drag her chair over.
"Thank you so much for last night."
Seika turned the memory over in her mind again — how, after Kagami stepped onto that stage, he had not only played bass beautifully, but scanned the full score once and locked straight onto the rhythm she and PA-san were holding, without missing a single beat.
It still lacked a little of the natural chemistry the three of them had when Hiroi Kikuri was there. But no one — absolutely no one — would have believed this was his first time ever seeing that score, stepping in cold with zero rehearsal and performing alongside them without a single mistake.
Even now, Seika felt like she was still half-trapped in a dream — one where she had missed the show, been blacklisted from this Livehouse, and had to run from the mess she'd made.
"Well — it's what a cute kouhai asked me to do."
"Besides, I couldn't just stand by and watch you get blacklisted from the venue over a last-minute cancellation."
Kagami said it like it was nothing, eating his bento.
"Thank you."
"It's just — I really didn't expect you to play that well under those circumstances."
"Your timing with us was great too."
"Ah, it's nothing."
"There's an old saying from the neighbors — 'Sharpen your spear on the eve of battle, and it'll still shine even half-polished.'"
"I just crammed at the last minute. That's all."
Kagami clearly had no interest in elaborating on why exactly he could play bass that well — or sight-read like that — so Seika let the subject drop.
"By the way — could you come up to the music room on the top floor after school?"
"Kikuri and PA-san and I all want to properly thank you."
Kagami smiled and gave a nod.
"Sure, I'll stop by."
"Though you really don't need to make a big deal of it."
Once Seika and Kagami had finished catching up, she and Nayotake fell into a conversation about where to find new part-time jobs lately. The three of them finished their lunches, afternoon classes rolled on, and the day wound its way to the final bell.
— — —
After school, Kagami headed to the Manga Research Club first.
The moment he walked in, he found Sayuri, Kosaka Akane, and Machida Sonoko already seated and waiting.
"...?"
"Shouldn't you senpai be gearing up for mountains of coursework now that summer's over? What are you doing back in the club room?"
Kagami settled into his seat with a smile, looking over at Kosaka Akane and Machida Sonoko.
Akane and Sonoko smiled back.
"It's not that intense just yet."
"At least not until after the school festival."
"Is that so?"
Kagami turned to Sayuri with a grin.
"Looks like your club president title is going to have to wait a little longer, Sayuri."
Sayuri looked at him and laughed.
"I don't need to be president of a club with just two members!"
"Anyway — that's not what today is about."
"Oh? Then what's today's agenda?"
Kagami glanced between the three of them. What kind of serious business could there possibly be on the very first day of the new semester?
Akane and Sonoko exchanged a look — and then Akane turned to Sayuri.
"Sayuri, go lock the door."
"On it!"
Sayuri dashed to the door and locked it, then jiggled the handle several times to make sure it couldn't be opened from outside.
Machida Sonoko stood and walked to the window, drawing the curtains shut.
The club room plunged into darkness.
"Sayuri, lights."
"On it!"
The club room blazed back to life.
Kagami stared at the three of them performing this elaborate ritual and asked, genuinely curious:
"So... what exactly are we doing today?"
Sonoko walked back to her seat without answering, smiling. She pulled her bag up onto her lap, reached inside — and produced a disc.
"Ta-daaa~!"
"Kagami-kun's adult anime~!"
Sayuri struck a grand, ceremonial pose beside Sonoko, presenting the disc as though announcing the arrival of royalty.
What do you mean 'my adult anime'?!
Don't say things that could be misunderstood!
"...?"
"Wait — isn't this my Hiiragi-senpai?"
The memory clicked into place — the anime adaptation of Miss Hiiragi. He'd nearly forgotten about it entirely. He hadn't expected the disc to already be out.
"I had my uncle track down a copy for me."
"Today's agenda for the Manga Research Club — let us gather together and appreciate Kagami-kun's animated debut!"
"Sayuri, if you will."
"On it!"
Sonoko handed the disc to Sayuri, who walked it over to the television in the corner of the room. Beside it sat a brand-new DVD player, already connected and waiting.
Kagami hadn't expected it to be a DVD release — DVD had only just begun to gain traction in Japan this year. Before this, it had been the age of VHS tapes and LaserDiscs.
Once Sayuri had it set up, she sprinted back to her seat and used the remote to switch to the right input.
And so, on the very first day of the new semester, all four of them sat together in the Manga Research Club and watched adult animation.
When the opening frames finally appeared on screen, all four straightened in their seats and fixed their eyes forward with the grave, locked-in attention of people watching a critical boardroom presentation.
At first, it seemed relatively normal. The art style was actually quite faithful to the source material — a genuine standout among the adult anime of the era, the kind that felt like it was pulling the aesthetic forward into a future the industry hadn't caught up to yet. Based on the production method, it appeared to still be traditional cel animation, though certain scenes showed the unmistakable creep of digital compositing beginning to take over.
But as it continued, all four of them began to frown.
The camera work that had started out composed and steady was growing increasingly erratic. Shots that should have been standard were skipped entirely or replaced with baffling angles. Many of the cuts were jarringly abrupt, transitions stitched together with all the grace of a torn seam.
Then, at last — the main event.
Sayuri, Kosaka Akane, and Machida Sonoko all swallowed involuntarily.
Cold sweat broke out across their foreheads. Their fists clenched.
Before the anime had even finished, Sayuri clamped a hand over her mouth, grabbed the wastebasket, and began retching into it.
Machida Sonoko went limp in her seat, both hands pressed flat against her forehead as she slumped like a marionette with cut strings.
Kosaka Akane invoked [President's Dignity], holding herself together through sheer force of will — then brought her fist down on the desk with a thunderous crack. Sketchpads, art supplies, and magazines leapt into the air.
Kosaka Akane — who had at minimum always maintained a surface of gentle composure — now looked like a wrathful deity incarnate, teeth ground together, each word forced out through the gaps one by one:
"Unforgivable."
____
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