After hearing the girl's blunt words, Uika made no attempt to argue. Instead, she withdrew her previously outstretched legs, leaned forward slightly, and helplessly hugged her knees, resting her chin upon them.
She wore an expression of deep contemplation—yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't find clarity.
Observing Uika's state, the girl narrowed her eyes slightly. Apart from the earlier "scoff," this was the most expressive gesture she'd displayed so far.
"Don't you know all this already?" This time, the girl's question truly sounded like one.
"Well, I suppose I do," Uika admitted with an embarrassed smile. Tilting her head slightly from atop her knees, she turned just enough to look at the girl's direction. "Sometimes I vaguely feel something's wrong. I've been agonizing over this for so long... maybe I've wasted too much time without realizing it."
"One year," the girl emphasized, clearly having listened carefully to Uika's earlier venting. "And during this entire year, you've accomplished nothing."
That remark rankled Uika. Her cheeks puffed up slightly, irritation clear in her eyes. "It's not like I haven't done anything! I practiced diligently whenever I could. And I spent a lot of time worrying over this!"
Was this what they called the charm of a blonde beauty? Even when annoyed, Uika managed to look adorable—her puffed cheeks caused her small face, resting on her knees, to shift upward slightly. As she defended herself, air leaked softly between her lips, giving her protest a faintly mumbled tone. Her loose blonde hair swayed gently near her lips.
Unfortunately, the girl facing her—though acknowledging Uika's cuteness—showed absolutely no leniency in either tone or attitude.
"Firstly," the girl's indifferent voice was like having a bucket of icy water dumped over one's head in the sweltering heat, jolting Uika awake instantly. "I don't think your so-called self-directed practice on this little island for a year can match even one assignment properly given by a teacher."
Uika instinctively opened her mouth to protest, but her urge to retort evaporated almost instantly. Mostly because she knew the girl was right.
Though Uika had carved out practice time every single day, even sacrificing study hours enough to see her grades drop—almost leading her teachers at the island's school to come complaining to her parents—it was true her practice had yielded only modest improvements. No matter how beautifully she could embellish a simple chord, it was nowhere near enough. If she wanted to stand beside Sakiko, she still had far to go.
Uika obediently buried her face once more between her knees.
"Secondly, regarding your last statement… Haha."
This was the second time the girl laughed. Unlike before, Uika heard this laugh clearly. It matched perfectly with what she'd imagined earlier—clean, crisp, brief, and thoroughly straightforward.
Unfortunately, this precious second laugh was clearly mocking her.
Well, given the context, Uika assumed that was indeed the girl's intent. But based purely on the girl's monotone voice and almost imperceptible facial shifts—barely "a pixel's worth"—it was extremely difficult to gauge her true feelings.
Uika even suspected that despite criticizing her, the girl might not feel anything at all; perhaps she was merely stating her evaluation of Uika's behavior plainly.
Fortunately, although guessing the girl's intent from her outward expression was difficult, she was perfectly capable of clearly articulating it herself:
"Since when has worrying ever equated to effort?
"Whether you're thoughtfully preparing or just wasting mental energy depends entirely on the results you achieve. Clearly, your thoughts haven't helped you at all. That's why you're here now, listening to the words of a complete stranger, hoping to glean some small comfort from them."
The girl's words were harsh but contained no excess. From start to finish, she was doing only one thing: seeing straight through and stating cold, hard truths.
Precisely because of this, Uika buried her head even deeper, leaving barely her eyes visible as her final tiny act of resistance:
"But—but this is about my future, after all. Leaving my hometown isn't an easy decision. Isn't it reasonable to think things over...? If it were you, what would you do?"
"My approach wouldn't help you at all."
"But I want to hear it."
"I'd choose to go directly to Tokyo, because I know I'd succeed."
Uika was speechless, silenced by this reasoning that sounded absurd to her, yet was frighteningly convincing coming from this girl.
She suddenly thought of Sakiko, who wasn't here at the moment. Sakiko's personality was entirely different from this girl's—warm, active, passionate. Her enthusiasm naturally drew others along, inspiring them unconsciously to follow her lead, mesmerized by the bright visions she painted under the sunlight.
This girl, by contrast, was detached and reserved. You couldn't detect even the slightest spark of passion in her words or personality. Everything she did and said was starkly clinical, offering no room for pleasant illusions. Yet she was also like a razor-sharp surgical blade—clearly identifying your hidden wounds, then slicing open your chest without anesthesia, leaving your heart exposed, watching impassively from the sidelines.
Yet the two shared one critical trait. Sakiko's bold strides and this girl's detached observation—polar opposites—both stemmed from extreme confidence.
What would happen if these two met? Uika wondered.
At some point, the girl, who'd previously been looking at Uika as they spoke, seemed to have grown bored, no longer sparing her even the smallest attention. Uika's persistent troubles, twisted like stubborn roots, were evidently less meaningful to her than a single splash of seawater.
Uika's confusion deepened. It seemed all her agonizing over the past year was nothing but a laughable joke.
Sakiko wouldn't have such troubles—she possessed the perfect external conditions to make full use of her talents; she was born with a golden spoon in her mouth. Nor would the girl in front of her, who saw everything clearly, easily sidestepping trivial distractions to calmly pursue her goals.
To this girl, Uika's worries were worthless. Similarly, they weren't enough to halt the ocean's advance either. As time passed, the tide subtly crept up the shore, each gentle ebb and flow masking the sea's slow invasion of the beach.
Only when Uika felt the sudden chill of seawater beneath her, soaking into what had previously been dry sand beneath her seat, did she realize the tide had risen.
She quickly shifted her position backward, moving onto dry sand again. Meanwhile, the girl remained still, despite the waves already lapping gently at her calves.
Now Uika couldn't even see the girl's profile clearly, only observing her from behind as the sunlight blurred her hair color, making it appear purely white.
Uika suddenly wondered—could someone like this girl ever have worries?
But in the very next second, the sea would show Uika clearly: This girl was just a kid. A single wave could knock over ten like her!
The previously gentle, rhythmic waves concealed a larger swell beneath, patiently lulling people into complacency before striking fiercely.
A huge wave surged suddenly, slamming into the girl without warning, knocking her backward without mercy.
Seeing her head about to hit the rocks behind her, Uika—having already shifted backward earlier—instinctively reached out, pulling the girl's shoulder and redirecting her fall into her own embrace instead.
"Are you alright?! Are you hurt anywhere?"
Uika had no time to dwell on her worries now, anxiously checking the girl, who either was stunned into silence or maintained her usual emotionless composure, remaining utterly expressionless even after such an abrupt incident.
"Thank you," the girl said politely, so politely it was as if she hadn't even registered the severity of what had just occurred.
"It looks like this area will soon be underwater. Maybe we should move elsewhere?"
"Alright."
The two girls rose from the gradually deepening seawater. Once standing, it became clear that the girl was nearly a full head shorter than Uika, reinforcing Uika's earlier suspicion that she was younger.
"We're the same age." The girl evidently noticed Uika's furtive glance comparing their heights and responded flatly, correcting the assumption.
Earlier, when Uika had poured out her worries, she'd mentioned her grade level, and the girl clearly remembered it.
"Mm, mm," Uika nodded with a gentle laugh. In her mind, the girl's previously imposing, almost awe-inspiring presence had been thoroughly shattered by that one wave. Now, even if the girl insisted they were peers, it didn't stop Uika from mentally placing her in a little-sister role. When leaving the spot, Uika even naturally took the girl's hand, worried she might stumble again in the surf.
They soon returned to the more open, populated tourist beach. The girl showed no reaction at all to Uika casually taking her hand, simply allowing herself to be led along.
Considering she'd initially found the girl in such a secluded corner of the shore, Uika assumed she preferred quieter places. Thus, even upon reaching the main beach, she chose a less crowded spot.
To Uika's surprise, it was the girl who broke the silence after they'd stopped walking.
"Let me confirm something. Your plan is to move to Tokyo and earn a living by forming a band. After you've consulted that young lady who 'showed you a new world' and confirmed this path's feasibility, you intend to discuss it further with your parents. Correct?"
"Yes…?" Uika responded hesitantly, unsure why the girl was repeating this now. Was she preparing to deliver another crushing blow?
"If that's the case," the girl placed one hand upon her chest, gesturing as though volunteering herself, "as an alternative, you could ask me instead. On this matter, I can also provide you with reliable information."
A few seconds later, she added: "Consider it repayment for helping me earlier."
Uika was caught off guard, quickly waving a dismissive hand. "No, no, it was nothing—I barely did anything..."
The girl promptly cut her off. "Then, from my perspective, providing you with this information is equally effortless."
Uika studied the girl carefully. Despite her small stature, she'd already more than proven her capability. Surely asking her questions could help clarify Uika's own situation.
I have to seize this opportunity.
Taking a deep breath, Uika mentally organized her thoughts and began asking questions one by one. Although the girl patiently provided answers to each, her brow gradually furrowed deeper with every question.
When Uika was about to move on to the next question, the girl abruptly stopped her.
"Wait a moment." She rubbed her forehead, clearly feeling a headache coming on. "I need to revise my previous opinion."
"?"
"Many of your questions miss the mark entirely. Your perspective is completely limited by life on this small island; you simply don't understand big cities at all." It was rare for the girl to express weariness this openly. "Now I actually believe your original plan—to first consult that young lady before proceeding—is correct."
"I-is it really that serious?" Uika was genuinely alarmed.
"Your vision for forming a band—or more precisely, making a living through music in a major city—is overly idealistic." The girl directly pinpointed Uika's gravest misconception. "Initially, I assumed you planned on relying on that young lady's assistance to help you through the challenging early stages. Yet you say you don't want to depend on her more than necessary... That's entirely unrealistic."
Uika froze. Had her entire idea been fundamentally flawed from the beginning?
But before panic fully took hold, the girl immediately continued:
"However, if you're willing to first establish yourself securely in Tokyo, gradually develop your skills, and afterward pursue a band career relying solely on your own abilities—
"I can offer you one piece of advice."