Chapter 4
All of a sudden, the group chat lit up.
Dozens of messages poured in, all asking for tips and guidance.
Someone under the username CaoCao chimed in, voice dripping with skepticism:
> "Why are you all so eager to meet Kasumigaoka Utaha? She just said she wanted to have omurice at some café."
Kasumigaoka Utaha rolled her eyes in that elegant, calculated way only she could pull off.
Was this Yamada Ryo trying to mess with her again?
No—he was here to cover her café bill. Not that he hadn't done that before, especially when his monthly allowance came in and he felt generous enough to treat her to something fancy.
Still, with her own monthly allowance at 100,000 yen, she wouldn't exactly starve if she saved a little.
She ignored his message.
Instead, Utaha kept glancing at the chat, watching every new notification like a fool waiting for something specific. But the message she was hoping for never appeared.
Her faint smile faded into disappointment.
Was he not online again today?
Then, unexpectedly, a private message popped up.
> [Ryuo Tenshin]: Congratulations.
Just two words, and then he was offline again. But the gloom from moments before melted away instantly. She rolled onto her bed, a grin spreading across her face, and typed:
> [Kasumigaoka Utaha]: I'll treat you and Mizuki to dinner this weekend.
---
Utaha soaked in the bathtub, steam curling around her, feeling slightly lightheaded.
After sending his message to Utaha, Ryuo Tenshin shut off his phone and got to his feet.
It wasn't that he didn't want to join in on the group conversation—it was just that his phone was so slow. Too many messages at once made it freeze, double images ghosting across the screen.
It had taken real effort just to exit the group and click into Utaha's private chat.
He swore to himself: once life was a bit more comfortable, the first thing he'd buy would be a proper phone that didn't lag.
---
Living room.
"Brother, why are you so slow? Saki-senpai and I have been waiting forever!"
Mizuki Yuiga pouted, arms crossed.
Ryuo rubbed at his damp hair with a towel.
"Sorry. Got distracted on my phone and lost track of time."
Kawasaki Saki shot him a sideways glance, voice cool.
"It's fine… as long as you weren't doing anything weird."
"Weird? Like what?"
Ryuo turned toward her—and froze for half a second.
Saki had clearly just stepped out of the shower. Her light, elegant nightdress fell just past her knees, the low neckline showing a hint of skin. Damp hair draped over her shoulders, catching the light.
When she tilted her head downward, it was… hard not to notice certain details.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
A flush bloomed across Saki's cheeks as she caught his gaze. She tucked her bare feet under her, crossed her arms protectively over her chest, and leaned back into the sofa.
Ryuo looked away with practiced calm, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"New nightdress? Looks good."
Saki's eyes softened for just a second before she covered it with a scoff.
"Hmph… not like I wore it for you. Now hurry up—we want to read your novel."
Without further delay, Ryuo handed them a stack of papers.
---
"Your Lie in April?"
Saki read the title aloud. She had picked it up expecting something light, maybe even silly.
But as her eyes scanned the opening lines, her expression shifted.
> [In the autumn when I was 11 years old, I could no longer play the piano.]
[The world became dim in my eyes.]
[Only black and white, like the keys on the piano.]
[…]
[Until the moment I met her.]
[My life changed. Everything I saw, heard, felt, and experienced was rendered in color.]
[The world began to shine.]
The words pulled her in.
Everyone had something in their heart they didn't want to face. In the story, Kousei Arima had a childhood friend, Tsubaki Sawabe, and it was through her that he met a free-spirited violinist, Kaori Miyazono.
During the Fujiwa Music Competition's preliminary round, Kousei was captivated by Kaori's expressive, unrestrained playing style—and by the way she seemed to pour her whole being into each note.
When the performance ended, Kaori shocked him with an invitation: to compete together as an ensemble in the next round.
Kousei refused at first, but Kaori—and Tsubaki—were persistent.
---
What had happened to him?
Why had a once-celebrated prodigy abandoned the piano?
Could Kaori's warmth and brilliance break through the shadows around him?
One was rigid, the "human metronome" who followed the score exactly.
The other was wild and unpredictable.
Saki's curiosity grew. What would they be like together, side by side?
The story carried her forward.
Even as the competition drew near, Kousei still tried to run from it. But eventually, Kaori and Tsubaki's insistence wore him down, and he agreed to join.
Saki's eyes lit up.
No one wanted to see the hero fade away.