Just as Togawa Sakiko settled into her classroom, her phone vibrated in her pocket.
She swiped open the screen to a message from Fuuki:
[You go back to the classroom first. Mutsumi and I are together. We'll meet up before the Music Festival starts.]
Sakiko's lovely eyebrows immediately furrowed, and her fingertips quickly tapped out a reply:
[Where are you two now? I just searched the garden and didn't see anyone, I thought you two came back first.]
[The teacher didn't arrange any special classes, I'll let you know if there are any last-minute arrangements... And also, it's fine if you wander around by yourself, but why is Mutsumi still with you?]
[Fuuki, I'm warning you, don't take Mutsumi to do anything strange! Absolutely not!]
Almost the instant the message was sent, her phone rang.
The words "Fuuki" flashed on the screen.
Sakiko immediately answered, lowering her voice, with a hint of barely perceptible anxiety and warning: "Hello, what are you up to? Where's Mutsumi? Let her answer the phone!"
"She's next to me, perfectly safe.
No strange things, only necessary cognitive education.
We're handling some 'miscellaneous items' now, and we'll head to the auditorium once we're done.
That's all."
"Han-handling miscellaneous items? What kind of miscellaneous items need two people to hide and handle? Hello? Fuuki!"
Sakiko hadn't finished speaking when only a dial tone was left in the receiver.
"...That guy!"
She stared at the call ended notification, so angry she almost crushed the screen.
Necessary cognitive education? Handling miscellaneous items in Tsukinomori?
All sorts of absurd images flashed uncontrollably through Sakiko's mind, finally settling on the bizarre scene of Fuuki gravely teaching Mutsumi how to photosynthesize with cucumber seedlings.
She shook her head, trying to dislodge the ridiculous association, but the worry in her heart and the premonition that "that guy is definitely doing something strange" lingered.
At the same time, on the second-floor corridor of the secluded building of the old teaching complex.
"Let's go, find somewhere nobody is."
Fuuki tucked his phone back into his pocket and whispered to Wakaba Mutsumi, who was as quiet as a shadow beside him.
Mutsumi's amber eyes looked down the corridor, and she nodded almost imperceptibly.
She started walking, silently leading the way, heading purposefully towards the clubroom area.
The magic of the Music Festival was immense; even this relatively vibrant club activities building (a converted old teaching complex) felt unusually empty at the moment.
Most club members, whether directly involved in the performance or not, had been mobilized to help set up the venue, transport equipment, or rehearse for the warm-up acts.
Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, sounding exceptionally clear.
Behind them, separated by a short distance and a few corners, Nagasaki Soyo moved along the cold wall like a startled yet persistent cat, clutching the Brass Band Club's storage box.
Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest, almost drowning out the faint tuning sounds of instruments from afar.
She had never done anything like "tailing" in her life, and her palms were clammy with cold sweat from nervousness.
But perhaps her concern for Wakaba Mutsumi's situation outweighed her fear, or perhaps she naturally possessed a talent for hiding in shadows—using the cover of pillars, the shadows of doorframes, and even miscellaneous items stacked in corners, she always narrowly avoided the occasional glances back from the two people ahead, maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too far.
Each successful concealment brought a ridiculous sense of "accomplishment" amidst her tension.
However, nervousness was still nervousness.
At a corner where discarded easels were stacked, Soyo, too focused on the figures about to disappear around the next bend, accidentally kicked the leg of a leaning easel.
Clang—
A not-so-loud but exceptionally harsh noise rang out!
Soyo was scared out of her wits, abruptly shrinking back into the shadows, her heart almost leaping out of her throat.
She held her breath, straining her ears to listen to the movement ahead.
Footsteps... disappeared?
The girl cautiously peeked out a little.
Around the corner, there was no one.
She lost them.
Annoyance instantly overwhelmed her.
She leaned against the cold wall, gasping for breath, trying to calm her racing heart.
Just then, her phone buzzed in her pocket; it was a message from her Brass Band Club senior:
[Soyo~, did you get the spare strings and those small props? Warm-up rehearsal is about to start, everyone's waiting for you.]
Soyo looked at the words on the screen, then at the empty corridor ahead, and then at the empty box in her arms.
Time was pressing, duty was calling.
But... Wakaba Mutsumi.
The quiet, seemingly weightless girl taken away by the unfamiliar blonde man.
The "coercion" scene she had just witnessed, the man's bowed head and the girl's passively upturned face, was like a thorn in her heart.
[Sorry, Senpai.
I have... a temporary urgent matter to deal with here, it might take some time.
I'm very sorry!]
Soyo quickly typed out a reply and sent it.
She took a deep breath, put her phone on silent, and tucked it back into her pocket, then started walking again, hugging the box, searching the labyrinthine corridors even more cautiously, as if looking for a lost treasure.
Time passed minute by minute, anxiety coiling around Soyo like a vine.
But beyond the anxiety, a hint of doubt arose in her heart—why, after all this time, had she seen no sign of resistance from Wakaba Mutsumi?
Her attitude towards the blonde man was more like... compliance?
Just as she was about to give up, thinking that perhaps she had truly misunderstood, a slightly ajar door at the end of the corridor caught her attention.
There was no club nameplate on the door, and a sliver of light peeked through the crack.
She lightened her steps, approaching silently like a cat.
Her heart again accelerated uncontrollably.
She cautiously turned sideways, pressed one eye to the crack in the door, held her breath, and peered inside.
This seemed to be an abandoned band rehearsal room.
Dusty music stands and a few broken chairs were piled in the corner, and a few wooden steps used for rehearsal still remained in the center of the open space.
However, the scene inside instantly froze all the blood in Soyo's body!
The tall blonde man was slumped on the lowest step of the wooden platform, his back against the cold wall, his head limply tilted to one side.
His eyes were open and vacant, devoid of any life, as if his soul had been drained.
What truly terrified Soyo was that—a... CD was deeply embedded in his forehead?
The silver disc, reflecting an eerie sheen in the dim light of the room, was so abruptly and squarely lodged in his brow!
Soyo's brain buzzed, completely shutting down.
The impact of the scene before her was too horrifying, beyond the scope of anything she could comprehend in her fifteen years of life.
And beside the man, Wakaba Mutsumi was kneeling quietly with her back to the door.
Her head was slightly bowed, her light green long hair obscuring the side of her face, making her expression unreadable.
Only her hands, resting on her knees, were visible, her fingers seemingly... slightly curled.
Time seemed to stand still.
Soyo felt her breath stop, hearing only the rush of blood in her eardrums.
All sorts of chaotic thoughts crashed wildly in her mind: CD? Murder? Accident? Coercion? Struggle?
A clear, logically "rigorous" conclusion, like a bolt of lightning, struck her brain, which was trying to forcibly restart after being overwhelmed by immense shock:
'This man coerced Wakaba Mutsumi to come here! With ill intentions!'
'In her struggle and resistance, in a panic, Wakaba Mutsumi accidentally... plunged this CD, from who knows where, into his head!'
'He's dead! Wakaba Mutsumi... accidentally killed him!'
Nagasaki Soyo, the model honor student of Tsukinomori's Brass Band Club, now reached this, in her view, the only logical conclusion with utmost seriousness and certainty.
Absurdity and reality fiercely clashed in her mind, ultimately overwhelmed by the "ironclad evidence" of the terrifying scene before her.
Buzz... buzz buzz buzz...
Her phone vibrated again in her pocket, the senior's name flashing on the screen.
This vibration, like a clap of thunder, jolted Soyo awake from her petrified state.
She had put it on silent, but hadn't turned off the vibration!
'What to do? Witnessed a murder scene! The murderer (in her eyes) was still the child of a famous artist from the same school!'
'Call the police? Call a teacher? Or... pretend not to see?'
Countless thoughts flooded her mind instantly, each choice leaving her with a suffocating sense of bewilderment.
Her body uncontrollably slid down the cold wall, her arms, holding the box, dropped limply, her back pressed tightly against the wall, as if she wanted to embed herself within it.
What should she do? What on earth should she do?!
Just as her mind was in chaos, her fingers trembling, almost about to turn off the constantly vibrating phone—
Tap... tap...
Clear footsteps came from inside the open door!
He was walking towards the door!
Soyo looked up in horror, her pupils suddenly contracting!
Appearing at the doorway, looking down at her, slumped on the floor, was not Wakaba Mutsumi!
It was that man!
The blonde man whose forehead should have had a CD embedded in it, who should have been dead!
He stood there perfectly unharmed, his forehead clean, without even a trace of red.
His eyes, calm as a cold pool, now emotionlessly swept over her terrified face and the storage box in her arms.
Fuuki's gaze briefly lingered on the "Brass Band Club" label on her uniform and the box, then moved away.
He evidently mistook Soyo for a student looking for something in this old rehearsal room.
"..." Fuuki didn't speak, just tilted his head slightly, as if sensing a hint of unease from Mutsumi behind him due to the stranger's appearance.
He naturally reached out and gently patted Mutsumi's shoulder, who was standing close to him, also looking at Soyo.
"It's nothing."
His voice was low and steady, clearly reaching Soyo's ears, "It's someone insignificant."
'Insignificant... person?'
These words, like a basin of bone-chilling ice water, were poured over Nagasaki Soyo's confused, terrified, almost burning brain.
All the tension, worry, fear... the absurd deductions, the horror of witnessing a "murder"... everything, in the face of this understated, emotionless "insignificant," was instantly washed away clean.
Only a kind of... emptiness remained?
After the emptiness, came a cold clarity.
A tremendous sense of absurdity and shame swept over her like a tsunami.
What coercion? What CD murder?
Her nervous tailing all this way, all those terrifying scenarios she'd imagined... it turned out to be all self-inflicted misunderstanding!
This man was perfectly fine!
Wakaba Mutsumi was fine too!
They were just... doing what?
Although she still didn't understand what the CD and the slumping were all about, it definitely wasn't what she thought!
It turned out... from beginning to end, she, Nagasaki Soyo, was just an "insignificant" stranger in their eyes.
After Fuuki said those words, he naturally walked past her with Mutsumi, heading towards the other end of the corridor.
Mutsumi didn't even glance at her again, just quietly followed behind Fuuki, like a silent shadow.
A sense of absurdity was born in her heart.
She was not the type to meddle, nor would she show excessive concern for Wakaba Mutsumi, who wasn't even a close acquaintance, nor would this incident affect the tasks she was supposed to complete.
Yet, that man's dismissive phrase, "insignificant," felt like a great mockery of her superfluous concern.
A fiery shame, like flames, surged in her heart, instantly reddening her earlobes and cheeks.
"Heh heh... an insignificant person, huh?"
"I don't expect to be needed by people who don't matter!"
Soyo sat alone on the cold corridor floor, clutching the empty but incredibly heavy box.
Her phone still vibrated silently in her pocket, reminding her of her forgotten duties and that "insignificant" reality.
============
Tsukinomori Academy, Auditorium.
Huge crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow, illuminating the dome decorated with intricate patterns.
Deep red velvet seats, like neat waves, were filled with Tsukinomori students in uniform.
The air was filled with a faint fragrance and a sense of carefully prepared anticipation.
Togawa Sakiko sat in a front-row seat, her gaze occasionally sweeping towards the auditorium entrance, her brows slightly furrowed.
It wasn't until she saw the familiar golden and light green figures appear at the door that she exhaled in relief, immediately standing up and quickly going to meet them.
"Mutsumi!"
Sakiko grabbed Wakaba Mutsumi's hand, led her to a slightly secluded pillar nearby, and lowered her voice, her tone filled with concern and a hint of barely perceptible complaint.
"Where did you two run off to? Fuuki didn't do anything strange to you, did he? Like... teaching you to fight with cucumber seedlings or something?"
Mutsumi raised her amber eyes and gently shook her head.
Her expression was as calm as ever, as if nothing had just happened.
Sakiko looked at her suspiciously, then glared at Fuuki, who had an "it has nothing to do with me" expression, and finally sighed helplessly: "Alright, alright, it's good that you're okay.
Quickly return to your seats, it's about to begin."
The three found their seats and sat down.
Sakiko sat in the middle, Fuuki on her left, and Mutsumi on her right.
The lights slowly dimmed, focusing on the center of the stage.
The deep red curtain, to the sound of soft music, slowly drew open as if pulled by an invisible hand.
The elegantly dressed host smiled and walked to the center of the stage, her clear and pleasant voice echoing through the microphone to every corner of the auditorium:
"Good afternoon, esteemed guests, teachers, and fellow students!
Thank you for waiting!
In this beautiful season of cherry blossoms and intoxicating spring breezes, we finally welcome the heart-pounding annual grand event of Tsukinomori!"
"Let the notes dance!"
Applause erupted like a tide, instantly engulfing the entire auditorium.
The Music Festival was about to unveil its magnificent prelude.
Sakiko straightened her back, her gaze intently fixed on the stage.
Fuuki leaned back slightly, his posture relaxed.
Mutsumi, as always, sat quietly, her amber eyes reflecting the shifting lights on the stage.
And in an inconspicuous corner in the back row of the auditorium, Nagasaki Soyo sat with her double bass, among the Brass Band Club's ranks.
She tried to maintain an elegant and proper smile on her face, her gaze seemingly focused on the stage, but only she knew the slight tremor in her fingertips as they brushed the cold strings, and the inexpressible, complex feelings of shame and grievance silently spreading in her heart.
And this complex emotion, as she noticed that unignorable tall figure, transformed into a suddenly fierce gaze on her face, and an inverted "smile."
The stage lights were brilliant, and the show had officially begun.
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