That strange sense of danger lasted only for an instant before vanishing without a trace, like a fleeting hallucination.
This only made Gotoh wonder even more if that odd feeling of crisis had been real.
Maybe… it was just my imagination?
No, I can't be that careless. My instincts have always been accurate before. I can't afford to take chances.
Frowning, Gotoh thought it over, then took out her phone and sent Ryou a private message.
"Can we talk somewhere else?" she typed.
"Why?"
Ryou replied with a question and attached photos of a drink and a plate of curry.
They looked freshly taken.
"I've already ordered my food and drink."
Gotoh hesitated, then wrote, "In that case… I'll wait for you outside until you're done."
"Come on, Bocchi-chan, you should come in too. It's just a café. Nothing to be afraid of."
"…"
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time, but she couldn't decide what to write.
With Ryou inviting her so warmly, how could she refuse?
In the end, Gotoh put her phone away and let out a long sigh.
Fine, I'll go in and chat with Ryou. It's just a café. It should be safe enough.
Worst case, I'll just stay alert!
She pushed open the café door and stepped inside.
Trying to recall how more outgoing people would act in this situation, she put on an awkward tone, raised her hand, and said, "Yo~ Still open today, huh?"
Several heads turned toward her.
Not one of them replied not even the owner at the counter.
Totally blew it…
Even Gotoh, who barely understood social interaction, knew how cringe that must have sounded. She wanted to curl her toes into the floor in embarrassment.
"Oh, Bocchi-chan, over here." Ryou was sitting by the window on the far side and waved.
Gotoh hurried over, tail between her legs, pretending nothing had happened.
Perhaps because she was tense and wary, she accidentally brushed against a customer as she walked through the aisle.
"Ah, sorry!" she said quickly, bowing.
Thankfully, the person didn't seem to mind, and Gotoh breathed a small sigh of relief before awkwardly sitting down next to Ryou.
Neither of them spoke.
Ryou quietly ate her food, not making any attempt to start a conversation.
Gotoh, even less capable of initiating, could only sip her ice water in silence.
"Let me see your lyrics," Ryou said suddenly.
"Ah… sure."
Reminded, Gotoh quickly pulled a small notebook from her pocket and handed it over with both hands.
Ryou flipped it open and immediately let out a surprised "Whoa!"
Her usually blank face twisted in shock, eyes wide, as if startled.
Gotoh's heart clenched.
Ryou showing that kind of expression… were her lyrics really that impactful?
"Did you actually make this seriously?" Ryou asked cautiously.
"Uh, yes. It's my pride and joy," Gotoh replied.
Ryou was silent for a moment, then slid the notebook back toward her and said, "For a high schooler, I think this signature's a bit childish."
Only then did Gotoh realize Ryou hadn't been looking at the lyrics page at all she'd been looking at the stylized "Bocchi" signature she'd designed.
"That's not the right page!"
The misunderstanding cleared, Ryou finally turned to the lyrics for real.
This time, there was a long silence.
Just when Gotoh braced herself for criticism, Ryou spoke, her tone questioning. "Bocchi-chan, do you… really think lyrics like this work?"
"Um… I guess so," Gotoh mumbled. "I read a lot of band lyrics. I think this is about the same vibe."
Ryou set the notebook down and suddenly looked out the window, her voice deep with memory.
"Before I joined Kessoku Band, I was part of another group."
"Their lyrics were raw and honest. I loved them."
"But over time, they started changing to appeal to the general public, losing what made them unique."
"I quit after that. It ended with a big fight."
"I got so tired of bands… until Nijika came to me, saying she liked my bass playing and wanted me to join Kessoku Band."
"I believe losing your individuality is no different from dying."
Gotoh stayed silent.
She could more or less understand what Ryou was trying to say.
"If I wrote lyrics the way I truly wanted… they'd probably turn out really dark," Gotoh said.
"Wouldn't it be fun to have a normie sing dark lyrics?" Ryou countered.
"Uh?"
In that instant, an image popped into Gotoh's head: Kita, smiling brightly while singing, "I curse one person every day."
"Exactly because we have such completely different personalities coming together that's what creates music. That's what makes Kessoku Band's style unique," Ryou said.
Gotoh felt like she'd just realized something important.
So Ryou's actually… surprisingly serious…
"We should get going," Ryou said. "Could you cover the bill?"
"Ah, sure… wait, what?"
"Pay for this."
Gotoh raised an eyebrow, staring at Ryou like she was checking if she'd heard right.
Ryou awkwardly turned her head away and said with forced seriousness, "I recently bought an expensive new bass. My wallet's completely empty. I've been surviving on grass. But when I saw this café was open, I really wanted to try it, so…"
"Please, Bocchi-chan, treat me just this once."
Gotoh stared at her in disbelief.
I take it back Ryou-senpai is just plain scummy!
"If you don't mind, I can cover the bill this time."
The sudden voice came from a man at a nearby table.
Ryou glanced over in curiosity. A young man with sharp features sat there, his expression cold.
"Though honestly, I think the food here is nothing special," he continued.
"Eat this kind of stuff too often, and your taste buds get dull. You start thinking garbage like this actually tastes good."
The café owner at the counter frowned.
Other customers looked annoyed, feeling insulted.
The man ignored them and kept talking, as if to himself. "My grandfather was the kindest man in the world. He always took me to high-end restaurants."
"He was a yakuza, but a righteous one hardly ever killed women or children. He used drug money to buy me whatever I wanted."
"Oh, right he sometimes liked listening to rock. Last time, he even went to a live show at a place called STARRY."
Gotoh's sense of unease spiked. She turned her head to look at him.
The man pulled out a photograph.
On it was someone she could never forget.
The middle-aged man in a black trench coat and fedora whom she had personally cut into eight pieces with her chainsaw.
"You remember him too, don't you, Miss Bocchi?" the man said coldly.
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Oh, you like the story? Wow, who knew. Go ahead, drop a review and throw some power stones and don't forget to add library maybe I'll be motivated to keep going.