There was no doubt about it: Gotō Hitori was a good person.
Even though she was timid in social situations and found it hard to step outside her comfort zone to show her strengths, she was undeniably a gentle and kind-hearted girl.
That very personality, however, came with its own drawbacks—namely, being unable to refuse requests outright, and being completely helpless when faced with conflict.
Case in point: right now, Bocchi-chan had returned to the rehearsal room of the Shimokitazawa live house, where Nijika was staring at her with sparkling eyes, clearly expecting her to show off.
"Let me hear it, Bocchi-chan's guitar!"
"And then it's your turn, Koumi. Don't forget—you've gotta decide a winner."
Off to the side, Yamada Ryō chimed in mischievously, clearly enjoying the spectacle. To keep herself from dozing off, she sipped little mouthfuls from a can of coffee she'd just bought.
"This feels like being forced by your parents to perform in front of relatives and then compete with the neighbor's kid… I suddenly really want to die…"
Placed squarely in the center of everyone's attention, Bocchi-chan began muttering things like "my soul…" under her breath, lifelessly plucking a guitar string.
The three ultimate weapons against thin-skinned, socially anxious people:
Make them perform.
Put them in the spotlight.
Confess to or humiliate them in public.
"I want to die, I want to die, I want to die… no, at least let me go home before I die…"
Even as those thoughts looped endlessly in her head, Bocchi-chan still nodded weakly. She didn't want to disappoint Nijika and Ryō—and she couldn't bring herself to say no.
Just as the pink caterpillar girl found herself trapped between advance and retreat, steeling herself to fight this battle alone—
"It's fine, it's fine. Think of it as just trading techniques."
The curly-haired boy beside her finally spoke. His refreshing smile had a spring-breeze quality to it, gently soothing Bocchi's restless nerves.
"And of course, if you don't feel like playing, Bocchi-chan, you can just listen to me. Or you can start whenever you feel ready."
When he smiled, a hint of a fang peeked out at the corner of his lips. His naturally wavy black hair and clean, well-defined features might not have screamed handsome, but the overall impression he gave was incredibly approachable.
More importantly, every word he said took her feelings into account. Not only that, he fully handed the initiative over to Bocchi—and subtly pulled her out of the very center of everyone's gaze.
"O-okay…! Koumi-senpai… is it alright if I call you that?"
"This is completely different from that weird dream… He's gentle, reliable, and really considerate…!"
The stone weighing on Bocchi's heart finally dropped. She let out a quiet breath of relief—thank goodness this familiar stranger wasn't the type to sneer at her with cold sarcasm.
Unsure how best to address him, she instinctively used the affectionate nickname Yamada had for Narumi, adding the respectful senpai afterward.
"..."
Yamada Ryō showed no sign of displeasure. She remained silent in the corner, leaning against the wall, looking as though she didn't care at all about the interaction between Narumi and Bocchi—though the way her thumb and index finger plucked the bass string had, at some point, grown just a bit faster.
"Haha, Koumi-senpai, huh? Sure, that works."
Smiling, the curly-haired boy picked up a guitar pick from the nearby table and carefully placed it into Bocchi's hand, making sure not to scratch her. Those tiny, unconscious details—so revealing of a person's character—didn't escape Bocchi's keen notice.
"Just like Nijika-senpai… he's really good at taking care of people…!"
Being treated so gently by a boy her own age made Bocchi-chan nod shyly, her pounding heart already impossible to fully hide.
She patted her cheeks, forcing the unnecessary thoughts out of her head, and—under the eager gazes of both Nijika and Narumi—began to play.
Perhaps because she felt gently protected, Bocchi's performance was unexpectedly smooth and fluid, free of the tension and stiffness that usually plagued her when playing in front of near-strangers.
Maybe it was fate—that she was meant to form a powerful bond with these people, build a band together, and run toward an ideal future.
And this time, the boy she'd met wasn't the one from her dream who bullied her and left lifelong scars, but a warm, attentive, sunny senpai.
Though the first half of Gotō Hitori's life had been spent crouching in dark corners, watching others bask in youth—unnoticed, unwanted, drawing circles around herself in the shadows—
This time would surely lead to a completely different future…!
For the first time, she felt a bright, positive hope for what lay ahead, and the emotions she poured into her guitar became lighter and more lively.
"Mm-hmm~"
Nijika, holding her cheeks and swaying her head to the rhythm, closed her eyes, completely absorbed in the infectious atmosphere. Beside her, Ryō said nothing and showed little on her face, but her half-lidded eyes revealed how intently she was savoring the melody.
Only Narumi, standing nearby, looked down at Bocchi seated and lost in her performance, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Good thing the pink caterpillar outside the simulation is just as easy to handle—a simple, innocent kid. All I have to do is pretend this is our first meeting and copy Hayama's popular extrovert playbook, and she drops her guard."
Gentle, considerate healing-type senpai?
An act.
Meticulous, soothing attention to detail?
As long as you're willing to play the role, it's ridiculously easy.
Narumi had more or less grasped Bocchi's personality by now. All he needed to do was maintain this image in front of her, gradually lower her psychological defenses, and eventually secure a friendly relationship in reality—one where he controlled the pace.
Of course—that had nothing to do with wanting to make up with her.
After leaving the simulation, Gotō Hitori was, to him, nothing more than a newly met stranger in the real world. Skills and rewards were all he needed to carry over from the simulation; excess emotions were just a nuisance.
"Besides, 'making up' sounds weird anyway. I didn't exactly go easy on Bocchi-chan in the simulation."
As the song ended, Bocchi-chan shyly put away her guitar and scratched her head.
"That was amazing, Little Bocchi!"
Nijika, completely unsparing with her praise, clapped enthusiastically—having already formed a good idea of who this timid pink-haired girl really was.
Even the lethargic Ryō clapped like a seal, her gaze lingering more on the curly-haired boy who was now taking out his own guitar.
Next up—it was Narumi's turn.