On the street.
"Your bass is really good."
Hiroi Kikuri slung her arm around Kitahara Toru's shoulder. She reeked of alcohol, carried a guitar borrowed from a friend, let out a small burp, and continued drinking from a box of cheap wine.
This was the cheapest wine you could buy at a convenience store.
As a "drunken angel," Hiroi Kikuri drank wine instead of water and couldn't afford anything expensive.
Only after a live concert would she treat herself to some good liquor or go to an izakaya for drinks.
"To put it bluntly, my bass is the best in the world."
Kitahara Toru patted Hiroi Kikuri's arm and pushed her off, then turned around to put away the new bass he had just bought a few days ago.
"Ahahaha, you're just a brat who doesn't know how to be polite, huh? Hiccup~"
Hiroi Kikuri hiccupped and slumped to the ground.
She had drunk too much today, and her consciousness was completely fuzzy.
Kitahara Toru let out a small sigh at the sight.
"I'll take you home."
"Alright," Hiroi Kikuri muttered, flopping completely onto the floor.
Kitahara Toru put on a mask and dragged her body along the street, looking like a criminal disposing of a corpse at a crime scene.
———
Ten minutes later.
At FOLT Live House, Kitahara Toru dropped Hiroi Kikuri onto the floor.
Phew.
The crime scene has been cleaned up.
This should be enough to keep the Japanese police off his trail for a few months.
...Just kidding. He hadn't killed anyone.
"Huh? Kikuri-chan? Why does she look like she's fast asleep... so cute?"
Yoshida Ginjiro, manager of FOLT, covered his mouth with an exaggerated expression as he walked over to Kitahara Toru.
Kitahara Toru sighed.
"Manager Yoshida, could you call her friend? I need to get going."
It was getting late.
"Alright, alright. I have a sofa here. Let her sleep there. I'll get a blanket for her."
The club manager waved him off.
"Thanks."
Kitahara Toru figured that since summer wasn't far off, sleeping on the sofa under a blanket wouldn't make her sick.
So, he didn't say anything more.
He helped Hiroi Kikuri onto the couch.
After finishing up, he headed to the front counter and ordered a glass of juice.
———
Japanese laws were strict, and minors weren't allowed to drink.
Back in his previous life, adults would always pressure him into drinking at social gatherings.
His father had even forced him to drink in high school under the excuse of "training alcohol tolerance."
Honestly, how did such a pointless drinking culture even become a thing?
———
As Kitahara Toru drank his juice, a familiar stranger stepped through the door—
Short blue hair, a charming beauty mark near her eye, a pretty yet expressionless face, and wearing Shimokitazawa's white uniform.
It was his second wife from the simulation.
Yamada Ryo.
———
"Ryo-chan is so cute~"
———
At the same time—
Yamada Ryo locked eyes with Kitahara Toru.
For a few seconds, their gazes met—
Then, they quickly looked away.
No matter how close they had been in the simulation, in reality, they were nothing more than strangers who had never even spoken to each other.
———
Kitahara Toru was the type of man who could clearly separate the simulation from reality.
He wouldn't get sentimental.
———
"..."
Yamada Ryo remembered his emotionless gaze just now—
It was the first time Kitahara Toru had looked at her so indifferently.
———
During the simulation...
His eyes had always been filled with love whenever he looked at her.
That love never wavered.
———
Whether it was the years they spent practicing bass together,
The moment when he fell in the snow and risked his life to protect her,
Or their final conversation on the hospital bed when death was right around the corner.
His love had never changed.
———
Only now did Yamada Ryo truly realize it.
Everything was gone.
His love for her had vanished into the unknown dimension the moment the simulation ended.
Not even a speck of dust remained.
———
"...I have nothing left."
———
A dull pain spread through her chest, making Yamada Ryo freeze in place.
She had originally thought that Kitahara Toru in reality would be just like in the simulation.
That he would approach her and talk to her when they first met.
That he would smile at her, just like before.
———
But unfortunately—
It was just her delusion.
———
The Kitahara Toru who had loved her—
Was already dead.
Killed by her own hands.
Dying in her arms.
———
The Kitahara Toru standing before her now was just a look-alike.
He had the same face.
The same voice.
But his soul was completely different.
———
Even so—
Just being able to see him again made Yamada Ryo feel happy.
She walked to the bar as if nothing had happened and ordered a glass of juice.
———
"I heard you playing bass under the bridge just now. It sounded great."
Completely different from the simulation—
This time, Yamada Ryo took the initiative to talk.
———
"Thanks."
Kitahara Toru turned his head and smiled at her.
———
That familiar smile made Yamada Ryo freeze.
She almost teared up on the spot.
She felt sad and wronged, but she held back.
———
Yamada Ryo didn't want their first meeting to be awkward.
She didn't want to become a weirdo in Kitahara Toru's eyes.
———
Even if she couldn't be his girlfriend—
She would at least try her best to become his friend.
———
"Why do you look so sad? Are you in trouble?"
Kitahara Toru tilted his head, smirking as he watched her conflicted expression.
This was the first time he had seen such a cute mix of cold and awkward.
It was actually kind of adorable.
———
"The band I formed with my friends... has a concert next month. But we can't sell... the tickets. Could you... buy one?"
———
She lied.
But for some reason—
Yamada Ryo hesitated.
She had faked her grandmother's death multiple times before.
But now—
Why was it so hard to lie to Kitahara Toru?