At exactly 3:30 PM, the academy's dismissal bell rang. During the last period, the homeroom teacher had emphasized once again that, to promote students' physical and mental development, the school required every student to join at least one club. This was also why schools in Neon usually dismissed so early—club activities were considered an essential part of daily life.
To Kazama Haruka, clubs naturally sounded like prime hunting grounds for meeting beautiful girls. So even though he had already joined Takamatsu Tomori's Astronomy Club, he still wanted to explore a few more. But unlike the excited freshmen rushing around to tour clubs on the first day, Haruka did not hurry. He chose instead to walk alone to a nearby musical instrument street.
The school's deadline allowed a week. As long as someone joined a club within that period, they were fine. Besides, Haruka had another strategy: he wanted to wait until the key characters had chosen their clubs, then decide based on their movements.
For now, something else demanded priority.
Since he had already promised Takamatsu Tomori that he would form a band with her—perhaps for life—it was time to take the first concrete step. And because he wasn't scheduled to work at the café today, exploring the musical instrument street felt like perfect timing.
He pushed open the heavy wooden door of a small guitar shop. Immediately, a dazzling array of instruments filled his vision.
"Welcome!" A young saleswoman greeted him cheerfully. But the moment her eyes landed on Haruka's face, a subtle spark lit up in them. She stepped a little closer, as if pulled in by gravity, her tone softening and becoming unusually enthusiastic.
This—this—was what a charm value of ten looked like in practical use.
"I'll just look around first," Haruka said politely, stepping back with a smile. He declined her overly personal service and began browsing on his own.
Though the shop wasn't large, guitars, basses, drums, and all the essentials were neatly displayed. Haruka wandered slowly, admiring each section.
Truthfully, he didn't have a strong preference for what role he'd play in the band. In both his previous life and his current eighteen years, he had never touched an instrument. He had no music theory foundation at all. But that didn't mean he had lied when he told Tomori, "I know a little bit of everything."
With 3,000 wish points in hand, he could instantly elevate any instrument skill to Level 4—Mastery.
But unlike the girls, who only needed to choose which instrument they wanted to play, Haruka had to consider something else: the timeline.
If he recklessly chose an instrument now, would he accidentally steal the role meant for someone else?
Therefore, in his ideal plan, he hoped to join the band as a manager, or at most a rotating substitute musician. That way, he could maximize his contact with the band girls. And when cracks inevitably formed within the group, he could step in like a "lubricant," smoothing out emotions and keeping the band stable.
Today was only the first day of school. The British exchange student, Chihaya Anon, had not yet made her appearance. Based on that, perhaps he could join the band as a temporary guitarist, help them perform a few times, and then, once the pink-haired girl arrived, gracefully "step aside" and retreat to behind-the-scenes support.
However, there was one complication.
If he joined the band already at Level 4 guitar proficiency, then when Chihaya Anon returned to Japan with her clumsy beginner skills, it might be hard for the other girls to accept her as the official guitarist. In that case, Haruka would have to personally teach her. But that wasn't necessarily bad—Anon was a talented girl. With just a bit of guidance, she could quickly catch up.
"Alright," he murmured, "Guitar it is."
Having made his decision, Haruka walked to the guitar section with renewed focus.
…Then he realized a problem.
As a complete beginner, he had absolutely no idea what kind of guitar was suitable.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" he called.
Hearing his voice, the saleswoman—who had already been sneaking glances in his direction—practically lit up and hurried over.
"Yes! How can I help you?" she asked eagerly.
"I'm new to instruments. Could you recommend a guitar for a beginner? I want to form a band with some friends."
She nodded immediately. With his face, she thought, he was perfect for the frontman position. She enthusiastically walked him through several options. In the end, under her guidance, Haruka bought a natural wood-colored YAMAHA FG800 for nearly 40,000 yen. After she helped him with basic tuning, Haruka left the shop with his brand-new guitar slung over his back.
"Kazama-kun, good luck! I'll definitely go watch your live performance!" she called after him, waving energetically.
Probably because she had secretly checked the customer card.
"Well then, time to go home," Haruka said softly to himself. "Ajisai will be happy I'm back early today."
Just thinking of his childhood friend's cute smile made his lips curl gently.
But after only a few steps, his expression stiffened.
Ahead of him, in front of a small game shop, Amanori Reinako stood leaning against the wall. Her eyes were unfocused, and her entire expression screamed despair.
Could it be… that the spoiler event had triggered early?
Haruka recalled the flashy, rapid-fire way the gyarus in class had spoken. For someone like Reinako, who had only recently stepped out of being a shut-in, they were practically a natural disaster. Even Haruka—someone used to attention—found their energy difficult to manage.
This was it. The perfect moment for him to intervene.
Watching Reinako's defeated posture, Haruka's feet moved before he even made a conscious decision.
It had been a terrible day. Truly terrible. Amanori Reinako felt like she had been beaten up emotionally.
Today was supposed to be the start of her fresh high-school life. Thanks to her younger sister Haruna, she had finally shed her "rotten otaku aura" and managed to put together a bright, energetic outfit. She had even successfully started a conversation with a few gyarus who seemed to be the center of the class. They chatted, exchanged contact info, and Reinako somehow survived several hours without feeling out of place.
Not bad, she'd thought. Not bad at all. A pretty great start.
But then the dismissal bell rang—and her nightmare began.
"Hey, karaoke?" the leading gyaru suggested, twirling her phone with long, razor-sharp nails.
"Yeah, let's go! Rinako?" another girl chimed in, tossing the metaphorical ball into Reinako's hands.
Immediately, an alarm blared in Reinako's mind. Her briefly relaxed nerves tightened back into knots.
"Uh… sure," she said. She remembered well the social mistakes she'd made in middle school. Rejecting an invitation like this could cut her off from the group permanently.
She would've preferred to go home, turn on her PS5, and blow the heads off zombies with a sniper rifle. But she forced herself to smile and went with them.
Once they entered the karaoke room, the gyarus moved like seasoned veterans—pouring drinks, ordering songs. Before Reinako could even process what was happening, the screen was filled with a dense list of the latest hit songs.
Is this the normie world? So scary…
As someone who spent most of her time playing games, whose rare outdoor trips were mostly dessert runs with her sister, Reinako had zero experience with karaoke systems. So all she could do was sit stiffly at the edge, pretending to smile, clapping mechanically whenever someone finished singing.
But that wasn't the worst part.
"Hey, Rinako, your turn! Sing something!"
The microphone was suddenly in front of her lips.
That was the moment she truly understood what cruelty felt like.