People in Mygo are emotional firefighters.

After all, it was a hug celebrating a successful performance! Even though it was a bit crowded and the way they hugged was a little odd, everyone looked so happy…

Perhaps... this is their band's unique way of celebrating?

The girls convinced themselves to temporarily suppress their inner turmoil and refocus their attention on praising the successful performance and sending their blessings to their friends.

However, when my gaze swept across the stage, I couldn't help but linger for a few more seconds in the crowded center, and that "strange" feeling in my heart had not completely dissipated.

On the other side of the audience, Mana Junda slowly lowered the light stick she had been gently waving to the rhythm.

Through the mask, her full expression was obscured, but her eyes, which were always bright and cheerful, were now slightly narrowed, her gaze fixed on the tall figure on the stage surrounded by girls of all kinds, and... those overly intimate physical contacts.

Arms wrapped around the neck, body pressed against the waist, fingers gently adjusting the hem of the clothes...

Mana's fingertips tightened unconsciously.

A sense of crisis.

A clear yet unfamiliar sense of crisis, like tiny vines, quietly crept into her heart.

She knew that Makoto was very popular.

From the moment he first came to the firm, his quiet yet reliable demeanor, occasionally revealing an awkward gentleness, was destined to attract the attention of girls.

She always considered herself "one of their own," feeling that compared to other girls who might only be admired from afar or had brief collaborations, she and he had known each other earlier, interacted more naturally, and even had more "intimate" interactions.

She always felt that... she had a great advantage.

However, what she saw instantly cleared her feverish mind.

Every girl on stage who looked at him had a look that was anything but innocent.

The pink-haired guitarist who threw himself into his arms had eyes that were overflowing with dependence and joy; the drummer who was being supported by him, his face flushed, looked ashamed and indignant, but his body honestly leaned against him; and the gentle bassist, whose movements as he straightened his clothes were so natural as to be expected, looked at him with undisguised tenderness...

How many girls actually like him in this hastily put-together band?

Mana gently bit the inside of her lower lip. She was the one who arrived first, they shared so many secrets and promises… how did it feel like so many “threats” had surrounded him without her even realizing it?

Moreover... it seems that they spend every day with him, practice together, perform together, and share the sweat and tears on stage... The bond built by their shared experiences is something that she, his "idol friend" who is close to him but ultimately belongs to a different circle, cannot easily compare to.

A subtle mixture of resentment, anxiety, and a faint sense of grievance at being "surrounded" by those who came after her fermented within her heart.

Sitting next to Mana, Serizawa Mio's feelings were even more complicated and hard to describe.

The performance itself was undoubtedly a success, especially the lighting.

But when the performance ended and that chaotic embrace came into view, the previous shock and emotion inevitably became mixed with a different kind of feeling.

Her gaze involuntarily followed Ishikawa Mayu.

Watching his embarrassment and indulgence when Chihaya Aine threw him into her arms, watching his focus and helplessness when he helped Shiina Tatsuki, watching Nagasaki Motoyo's naturalness and intimacy when she straightened his clothes...

My heart felt like a spilled spice jar, a mixture of sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, and salty flavors. What settled in the end was a clear sense of loss, and a faint, almost irrational, resentment.

Senior... how could you do this?

She was so kind and gentle to everyone.

When she promised to bring me dessert, her eyes were so serious.

But now, he has such a good relationship with so many girls... and they're so close.

Mio knew she had no right to complain.

She came here with a sense of wanting to put an end to her budding feelings for him. Having witnessed his dazzling presence on stage and the deep bond and understanding between him and his bandmates, her already faint hope flickered like a candle in the wind, on the verge of being extinguished.

The hope is even slimmer... but what does it matter?

It wasn't her light to begin with.

But... the dull, aching pain in my chest was so real that it couldn't be ignored.

She lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes, trying to suppress the disappointment that shouldn't have been there, and focusing on appreciating the success of the performance and blessing the lamp.

Well, at least his music is great, and his band is great too. That's... enough, right?

But out of the corner of his eye, his gaze would always uncontrollably drift toward the center of the stage.

Just as Mio was in turmoil and Mana's inner alarm bells were ringing—

"Shh."

I heard a soft rustling sound of clothes rubbing together from the seat next to me.

The two turned their heads at the same time and saw that the blue-haired girl next to them, who had been sitting upright and had a cool and aloof demeanor since the start of the performance, stood up without warning.

Her movements weren't particularly dramatic, and could even be described as swift. However, in the still-lingering atmosphere of the performance, and against the backdrop of most of the audience still sitting and applauding or preparing to leave, her abrupt standing up was quite eye-catching.

Who is this expert?

Chapter 280 Xiangzi's Departure

Toyokawa Shoko sat in the audience, her back ramrod straight.

She brought Wakaba Mutsu here for a clear and unambiguous reason: to hear how her cherished piece sounded after being rearranged, and also... to prepare herself to formally bid farewell to that irreplaceable past. She thought she was ready.

Of course, there was also a small selfish motive that she was unwilling to admit or even clearly aware of—she wanted to see what kind of brilliance that person, Ishikawa Mayu, would radiate when standing on their stage.

Before the performance even started, this secret anticipation was subtly pricked.

Mayu led two unfamiliar but eye-catching girls—one who, despite wearing a mask, still exuded star quality, and the other lively and energetic—to sit in the reserved area, right next to her.

Xiangzi's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, but then relaxed. Zhenyu had said she was the first to get a ticket. Thinking of this, his displeasure was temporarily suppressed. However, when his gaze swept over the undisguised eagerness the two girls showed when looking at Zhenyu, his heart still felt like it had been pricked by a tiny grain of sand.

As the prelude to "Walking with the Azure Sky" began, anticipation was instantly replaced by tension. However, mistakes followed one after another: the guitar riffs faltered, the rhythm faltered, and the audience left their seats... In the chaos, Shin's attention was almost entirely occupied by the pink-haired guitarist and Nagasaki Motoyo. He leaned over to address the issues, offering quiet reassurance, and even ruffled the other's hair. Those natural and intimate interactions, however, seemed particularly jarring under Shoko's calmly scrutinizing gaze.

The mistake itself wasn't her main concern. She had experienced even worse rehearsals. What truly caused that tiny thorn called "displeasure" to quietly pierce her heart was the overly focused favoritism, the atmosphere that subtly isolated others.

Fortunately, they recovered. When the music finally flowed smoothly, Takamatsu Akira's singing gradually became firm, and Mayu's violin unfolded melodiously and supportively, Xiangzi's tense shoulders relaxed slightly.

The lighting was excellent. There was a complex sense of satisfaction, like seeing a rough stone she had helped carve, meticulously polished elsewhere, finally revealing its brilliance. Zhenyu was also dazzling; the elegance and tranquility in his music even exceeded her expectations. Watching him perform steadily in his place, Xiangzi felt a small, unacknowledged sense of pride and anticipation being somewhat satisfied.

Then came the closing remarks after the first song.

When the light said, "This band doesn't have a name yet, but even if we lose our way, we want to keep moving forward," when Mayu solemnly thanked her bandmates in a steady and clear voice and said, "I want to dedicate this rewoven melody to her."

At the same time, it's also a time to properly say goodbye to that 'past' that gave many of us a beginning, but also left us with regrets.

A sudden, overwhelming surge of intense, acrid heat welled up in my eyes, catching me completely off guard.

Xiangzi suddenly lowered his head, biting his lower lip tightly. His thick eyelashes trembled violently as he used almost all his strength to force back the tears that were about to burst forth.

Those words were so gentle that they shattered a hardened facade in her heart.

Without those intimate interactions before, this moment might have been a pure spiritual cleansing, a formal farewell she could accept calmly and even be grateful for, a clean and decisive break that would help her move forward.

But, it exists.

She witnessed the natural intimacy between Mayu and the other girls.

Thus, what should have been a pure feeling of being moved and relieved instantly turned sour, mixed with sharp pain and indescribable bitterness.

Immediately afterward, she heard Mayu say, "The next piece... is dedicated to her." Almost simultaneously, out of the corner of her eye, through the gaps in her damp eyelashes, she caught a glimpse of something on stage—

Mayu grasped Nagasaki Motoyo's hand.

At that moment, she was awkwardly bowing her head, trying to hold back her tears.

Zhenyu didn't look at her.

His gaze, his attention, and his outstretched hand were all directed at Su Shi beside him.

A cold emotion, mixed with the resentment of being ignored and sharp hostility, instantly seized Xiangzi's heart.

She knew that Masahiro probably didn't mean anything by it. It was probably just part of the performance process, a form of mutual support within the team.

But knowing is one thing, feeling is another.

She still felt provoked.

Nagasaki Motoyo, who was once a teammate but now stands beside Shinba and is treated with gentleness by him, has dealt him a heavy blow in a silent yet incredibly direct way.

The melody of "Spring Shadow" begins.

The arrangement was superb, exceeding her expectations. The addition of the violin brought the elegance and resilience she sought, and the overall arrangement was both innovative and preserved the soul of the original piece. Normally, she would have been completely immersed in listening, perhaps even secretly praising it.

But not now.

The more the beautiful melody matched her expectations, and the more dazzling Zhenyu became on stage, the heavier the suffocating and cold feeling in her chest grew.

She could only watch from the audience.

Watching Zhenyu shine on their stage, watching him cooperate seamlessly with other girls and exchange glances, watching him be needed, relied upon, and surrounded.

And she, Toyokawa Shoko, his former "teacher" and now "partner," can only sit here as a forced, excluded bystander.

The performance ended amidst enthusiastic applause. The stage erupted into a chaotic flurry of hugs.

Chihaya Aine threw herself into Mayu's arms, Shiina Tatsuki leaned against his arm, her face flushed, Nagasaki Motoyo gently straightened his clothes, and the others surrounded him closely...

The scene was intimate, warm, and filled with celebratory joy.

But this plunged Xiangzi's already cold heart into the depths of despair.

Just then, a familiar and annoying dull pain spread from deep within her lower abdomen, accompanied by a vague feeling of heaviness, making her already stiff sitting posture even more unbearable. A slight chill crept into her extremities, intertwining with the sharp pain in her palms from clenching them tightly, causing her already shaky patience to quickly slip away.

She didn't want to look at the glaring warmth on the stage again, nor did she want to feel the emotions mixed with bitterness, grievance, and cold anger.

The combination of physical discomfort and mental exhaustion urged her to leave this place where she had nowhere to hide.

But... no.

She had to maintain a basic level of decorum. She couldn't lose control of her emotions, and she couldn't let anyone see her disheveled state. Especially not that guy standing on the stage, surrounded by people.

At the very least, wait until they have finished expressing their gratitude; don't act as if you can't handle it or have been overwhelmed.

She forced herself to straighten her already stiff back, staring blankly ahead, as if intently watching the finale of a performance that had nothing to do with her.

The laughter, shouts, and the warmth of the crowded stage all became blurred background noise; only the sharp pain in my palm was clear.

"...Xiangzi?"

A very soft, worried voice called from beside me.

It is Wakaba Mutsu.

Xiangzi didn't turn his head, but shook it almost imperceptibly, his lips pressed into a pale line, and the voice squeezed out from his throat was low, hoarse, and tense: "...I'm fine."

Mu stared at her quietly for a few seconds without asking any more questions. She simply turned her gaze back to the stage, but her eyes kept glancing at Xiangzi's slightly trembling fingertips.

The chaotic hugs on stage gradually subsided, and everyone stood still again. Led by Zhenyu, they turned to the audience, bowed deeply once more, and said in unison, "Thank you all so much for coming today!"

The applause rang out again, even more enthusiastic and sincere than before, and lasted for a long time before gradually subsiding.

Xiangzi then stood up expressionlessly, not even bothering to wait for the next PPP performance, and turned to walk towards the exit.

Mu hesitated for a moment, but still stood up.

She was actually... looking forward to meeting up with Zhenyu and Su Shi after the performance.

But at this moment, Xiangzi's condition is clearly a higher priority.

So he could only silently follow half a step behind Xiangzi, like a quiet shadow.

On stage, Ishikawa Maho straightened up, her face still showing a hint of relaxation and fatigue from the successful performance, and her eyes turned with a hint of expectation to the seat where Shoko and Mutsu had been sitting.

But all I saw were two empty seats.

What about people?

It's an adaptation of "Spring Shadow"...Are you not satisfied?

Still feel the whole performance...wasn't good enough?

A hint of doubt and... a touch of disappointment crossed his mind.

Chapter 281 Awareness

The passageway leading backstage was much dimmer than the stage, with only a few wall lamps providing basic lighting. Away from the scorching spotlights and the focused gaze of the audience, the air seemed to relax a bit, carrying a unique smell after a performance, a mixture of sweat, dust, and a lingering sense of excitement.

"Ah, everyone, thank you for your hard work!"