Tokyo: Idol Girls have absolutely no bad intentions!

Suddenly, that cold, almost imperceptible voice from deep within my mind resounded.

Ito grasped at this like a lifeline and, without any hesitation, said, "Confirm."

[Song acquired: "Kizuna", original singer: Miu-clips]

A massive flow of information was instantly and forcibly injected into Ito's mind.

The complete score, the exquisite chord progressions, the gentle melody, the lyrics full of emotional resonance, and even the most suitable arrangement ideas and suggestions for handling the emotions in the performance... all of it was imprinted in his mind, so clear that it was as if he had practiced it a thousand times.

He took a deep breath, his body momentarily stiff and disoriented from the sudden influx of information.

Seeing his stunned expression, Mori-gami Chinatsu assumed he was too nervous and embarrassed to speak, and a sense of smugness in control welled up within her.

She crossed her arms, raised her chin slightly, and looked at him with a slightly pitying yet subtly arrogant expression.

“Of course,” she began, drawing out her words as if announcing some major concession, “if you, senior, could…”

She seemed to be trying to give him a way out, such as "It's okay if you play it decently," or "If all else fails, I'll sing you a ready-made pop song to barely forgive you?"

Ito didn't let her finish speaking, nor did he see any need to listen further.

Those pupils, which had been out of focus for a moment, regained their light, and they neither looked at the three of them again nor gave any verbal response.

He turned around and walked straight to the black Yamaha 611 in the corner, its sleek lines reflecting the living room light.

Seeing Ito's confident demeanor, Mori couldn't help but bite his lip.

Even if it's difficult for him, he's unwilling to meet his own conditions. That despicable Ito!

Chapter 198 "Kizuna" and the Late Night Snack Interlude

"Chika, what's wrong?" Asada pulled out a bag of cucumber-flavored potato chips from somewhere and looked at Mori with curiosity.

"N-nothing." Mori was a little angry, but after glancing at the bag of potato chips in Asada's hand, he reached out and grabbed a few chips.

The potato chips crunched loudly in her mouth as she clenched her teeth and glared fiercely at Ito, who was familiarizing himself with the guitar.

This clueless, uncompromising, and unambitious bastard!

The living room lights weren't very bright. Ito sat on a chair at the dining table, while Asada and the other two sat around on the bedding by the balcony.

Mori took a bitter bite of the last half of a cucumber-flavored potato chip, the crisp "crunch" almost drowning out the soft sound of her grinding teeth, her violet pupils fixed on Ito's focused profile.

He adjusted his posture, crossing his left leg over his right knee, his left arm hanging naturally on the curve of the guitar body, while his right arm was gently raised, his little finger bent to serve as a fulcrum, firmly resting against the edge of the pickguard.

Taking a deep breath, Ito's slender fingers gripped the pick and plucked the strings to produce the first note.

"合がってるんだよ(Our hearts are connected)"

The music and vocals appeared almost simultaneously, shattering Mori's last shred of hope.

"One person is not the same person."

Before the music had even finished, Ito's right middle and ring fingers struck the first and second strings on the fourth fret with two almost overlapping muffled thuds.

At the same time, he pressed his left palm inward sharply, making his entire wrist joint a stable support point.

Almost at the same millisecond, the right wrist suddenly snapped back, the pick spinning rapidly inward as it cut through the air.

Asada stared wide-eyed, even stopping his potato chip stuffing, and subconsciously licked the corner of his mouth that was covered in seasoning powder.

"Look at it, everyone, when you look back."

Asada unconsciously swayed her body slightly to the rhythm.

“Smile Mikara (Start with your smile)”

"爱しさから(Start from this love)"

"楌るあなたを hugging you (hugging you tightly when you are overflowing with emotions)"

With the index finger of the left hand pressed against the third fret of the lowest note string, the right palm gently sweeps upwards across the three higher notes string.

Mori's pupils trembled, and he hugged the pillow even tighter.

Stupid...idiot...

"When you feel pain, come back to me quietly."

.......

"It's enough to be by your side"

After a moment of silence, a single note quietly slipped out.

Like a sigh after the dust has settled, the right hand, using only the softest part of the edge of the thumb, gently and soothingly sweeps across the lowest thick string.

The left fingertips lightly cover the same string on the first fret.

Buzz.......

A basic monotone, extremely warm, deep, and pure like chest resonance, exists faintly yet stubbornly, filled with a silent sense of protection.

Nagano's gaze lowered slightly, landing on his clasped fingers.

"手を握る (I wish I could hold your hand tightly)"

In the lingering echo of the last warm monotone, a softer, feather-like overtone quietly rises.

The world finally became completely quiet.

Chinatsu Mori buried her face almost entirely in the pillow in her arms, which was stained with suspicious water, her forehead exposed against the soft fabric, her breathing somewhat rapid.

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest, not because of anger.

At least for this moment, that bit of anger was greatly suppressed by the firm warmth that flowed out at the end of the piano music.

Rather, it was a strange, awkward feeling of being seen through yet forcibly concealed, and... a fluttering sensation.

Idiot... what are you trying to show off with the guitar! Who cares to listen to you play that...?

But a small voice inside me was singing a different tune.

She could only tighten her grip on the pillow, trying to strangle the untimely beating heart.

Asada's legs, which were crossed, felt a little numb. She shifted her weight slightly, and her toes unconsciously rubbed against the soft carpet.

The half-eaten potato chip that I had just been holding in my mouth but had long been forgotten had somehow fallen into the fabric folds of my knees.

She subconsciously licked her lips, as if she could still taste the lingering salty and savory flavor of the potato chips.

Nagano Sae sat upright, just as she had at the beginning.

She didn't look at anyone; her lowered eyelashes concealed any glimmer of emotion that might betray her feelings.

My gaze fell on my fingertips resting on my lap, the dark gray silk robe shimmering with a serene luster under the light.

Time seemed to stand still for several minutes.

Ito stretched his somewhat tired finger joints.

He turned around, not looking at anyone, his gaze fixed directly on his target, his voice low and husky from the performance, carrying an undeniable persistence.

"I played the song. So, how exactly did you open the door?"

Silence fell; no one answered. Ito looked at Asada, who had made the final breakthrough.

Asada's body visibly trembled, and almost instinctively, he frantically grabbed the half-empty, oil-stained potato chip bag that had fallen beside his knees.

With a whoosh

He held it above his head, like a startled ostrich, completely covering his head.

Only a muffled, panicked sound came from behind the bag.

"......I have no idea!"

Chinatsu Mori raised her head from the pillow, her cheeks marked with several clear red marks from the fabric, and her violet pupils shone brightly in the dim light.

"Senior, do you really have to keep harping on this?!" Her voice carried a hint of exasperation. "Can't you... ask something else?! Like..."

Her gaze swept quickly across the impenetrable darkness outside the window, then recoiled as if burned, finally settling on her bare toes. Her voice suddenly lowered, sounding weak, "...For example...what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?"

“That kind of thing isn’t important,” Ito refused outright.

She glared at Ito fiercely, then turned her face away sharply in a huff, raising her chin high.

"Damn it!" The words were squeezed out through clenched teeth.

Just as Mori was about to throw a pillow at Ito, Ito added at just the right moment, "Because your breakfasts are all delicious."

The movement stopped abruptly, and Mori-gami put the pillow back into his arms.

Um... I... I forgive you.

Asada huddled even tighter behind the bag of potato chips, making a soft rustling sound.

Nagano Sae finally looked away from those "interesting" fingertips, calmly raising her gaze to the succulent on the balcony, which was now just an outline in the darkness.

The succulent seemed to be the only thing she was willing to talk to at that moment, silently responding to the stalemate.

The air in the living room fell silent once again.

As Ito looked at the three "silent fortresses" of different shapes in front of him, his temples began to throb again.

He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and prepared to deliver the final interrogation.

"Thump thump thump! Thump thump thump thump!"

A series of loud, rhythmic knocks, almost like banging on the door.

All four people turned their heads at the same time.

Ito frowned, his face darkening as he got up and walked towards the entrance.

The door had barely opened a crack when a figure, reeking of strong barbecue fumes, eagerly squeezed in.

Hayakawa Miki's face was beaming with an overly enthusiastic smile as she carried several wobbly, greasy transparent lunchboxes in one hand.

You can see the stacks of fried chicken nuggets and braised octopus tentacles inside, while the other arm is struggling to hold a heavy, colorful, oversized bag of mixed potato chips and a large 2L bottle of orange juice.

My sister bought some late-night snacks to feed you all.

Hayakawa's voice carried an undisguised, excited tone, like someone who'd been there all along, but the moment he saw Ito, he suddenly changed his demeanor.

"Xiao You, what are you doing here?"