If you found yourself in a completely different world, living a completely different life, and a friend you were once incredibly close to suddenly no longer remembered you—would you still choose to become friends with them?
Or rather… would you still believe they were the same person?
Yamada Ryō was absent-minded while playing the bass, only snapping back to reality when she missed a note.
"Another mistake, Ryō-senpai."
When Kita Ikuyo looked over with concern, Yamada Ryō finally remembered that they were in the middle of rehearsal.
Before long, the largest festival in Shimokitazawa would be held at Ijichi-san's venue, and many underground bands active in the area would be participating.
That day also happened to be the date Narumi had promised—long ago—to perform together with Bocchi.
"Listen carefully, Bocchi-chan. When we get to this part of the set, the audience will probably start reacting—so you have to stay calm, okay? Don't get scared and hit the wrong string! Otherwise that sharp-tongued guy will grab onto it and mock you again."
Seated behind the drum kit, Ijichi Nijika offered the advice earnestly. Standing beside her, guitar in hand, Bocchi nodded now and then, forcing a small smile.
"I-It's okay, Ijichi-senpai… and besides, I think Narumi-kun might not actually be that bad. Maybe he has some… reasons he can't talk about…"
"Even now you're still defending that guy, Bocchi-chan? Don't let him CPU you too hard! Even if you've known someone since you were kids, people can still change!"
"Huh… so that overbearing guy knew Bocchi-chan back when she was little?"
Kita Ikuyo joined the conversation in surprise. Feeling inexplicably irritated, Yamada Ryō set her bass aside—if there was even a chance she'd play it wrong, she wouldn't touch her precious instrument.
"I know it sounds kind of… that way, but people like him aren't exactly rare in the music scene—especially in underground rock."
Ijichi Seika, who had come to observe their rehearsal, leaned against the doorway. With the air of a dependable adult, she tried to soothe the unsettled Bocchi.
"Rock is fun, but don't think fellow fans are all that great, kids. Elitist hobby-flexing over obscure bands is one thing, but there are plenty of people who think being in a band gives them the right to hit on fans—and that's not even counting folks who bad-mouth you just because they don't like you."
"B-But why…?"
Bocchi lowered her head in confusion. She was truly at a loss when faced with such unprovoked malice.
"Talent? Age? Being more likable? Who knows. Sometimes you don't need that many reasons to dislike someone."
The shop owner shrugged. Having secured her place in Shimokitazawa's underground scene, she'd seen all kinds of strange people.
"Besides, your band's overall ability is clearly a cut above those half-baked slackers—that's obvious to anyone. Maybe it's just plain jealousy: of your skills, and of how many people like you."
"Jealousy…?"
For the first time, Bocchi—who had always believed Narumi's excessive behavior was just his way of trying to get closer to her—felt uncertain.
If what Ijichi Seika said was true, then it meant Narumi wasn't someone with good intentions who'd chosen the wrong way to express them. It meant he was simply a nasty person who liked to toy with others' feelings.
"Stop trying to see him in such a positive light, Bocchi-chan. Does he really need some tragic backstory to justify bullying others?"
Nijika tried to persuade her gently. Hearing that, Yamada's fingers resting on the bass strings twitched—but she still couldn't bring herself to say what she'd wanted to.
"Come to think of it, if he really were a tsundere, why would it always be endless 'tsun,' only showing a hint of 'dere' when he's just about to push Bocchi-chan to the brink?"
Of course he wouldn't suddenly go dere. That guy just can't say what he really feels—it's not that he's actually a tsundere.
Having heard Narumi's request the day before and learned the truth behind it, she'd wanted to argue back. Yet she realized she couldn't even control her own will.
"Yeah, so in the end he's just a low-tier PUA guy. Bocchi, you don't need to take it to heart—just think of it as getting tangled up with a psycho."
The Ijichi sisters reached this conclusion. From their standpoint, it all sounded perfectly reasonable, yet an uncontrollable emotion welled up inside Yamada.
She started to hate this.
She'd been enjoying her laid-back life in this "parallel world." Even if she couldn't do whatever she wanted, she'd adopted a go-with-the-flow, do-nothing mindset—
But now, when the thing she truly wanted to do was right in front of her, she couldn't even raise her voice.
Yamada Ryō rarely felt emotions swell so fully in her chest.
It was the frustration of being unable to clear Narumi's name.
The last thing Narumi had asked of her was to come to his place after the performance, where he'd explain everything.
Even though the Narumi Tōru of this world seemed not to remember her, a voice in her head still recognized him as her "friend."
And so, because she felt that closeness, Yamada Ryō chose to believe Narumi's words.
If she could, she wanted to tell her bandmates to wait patiently until after the performance—when everything would finally come to light—but at the same time, it felt like there was some kind of resistance in this world, constantly preventing her from expressing her thoughts to others.
What irritated her even more was the feeling that she was nothing more than an outsider—someone who couldn't influence the direction of the story at all.
Bored and frustrated, Yamada Ryō set down her bass and left the rehearsal room without a word, while the others focused on comforting Bocchi.
Suddenly, the place felt unreal.
They say life is a play—maybe her inexplicable arrival in this "parallel world" was just another part of the heavens' game.
"…How boring."
Yamada Ryō rarely showed such displeasure.
This pointless game should end sooner rather than later.
She stepped out of the underground venue and headed for the vending machines, planning to buy a drink to wake herself up—only to see a curly-haired boy leaning against the wall, having just taken a canned coffee from the machine, about to head back inside.
His complexion was awful, like he'd stayed up all night drowning himself in cigarettes and alcohol again—there wasn't a trace of youthful vitality about him.
"Yo."
Even so, the boy forced himself to greet her.
"…You really are someone who just does things on your own, aren't you."
For some reason, that forced bravado only made Yamada Ryō more annoyed.
"You could've solved this in a much easier way. Why did you have to make things so complicated?"
"Why…? If you ask me why, it's like playing a game."
In response to her complaint, the boy laughed lightly and looked off into the distance.
"Even if the controls are complicated and hard to remember, if you can pull off a flashy combo, land a smooth chain of attacks, and finish with something no one saw coming—your score's going to be pretty high, right?"
"—"
For a brief moment, the boy's pale face overlapped with the friend she knew. Yamada Ryō froze.
"You just need to be patient, Yamada."
His voice was weak, yet it carried an unexpected sense of conviction.
"My beloved accomplice."