"Haruka! Haruka! Look, Matsue-kun is here too! Should we invite him over?" Rion, the resident Gal of Class 1, giggled as she nudged Haruka’s arm. Haruka brushed her off with a look of pure irritation.

  "We’re here!" Yuka Tomatsu announced, her smile faltering for a fraction of a second as she closed the restaurant door behind her.

  Jun and Yuka parted ways at the entrance. He headed toward Ko Tsushima’s booth, while Yuka took her seat with the Class 2 group.

  "Is Matsue not joining us?" Miya Mizushima whispered into Yuka’s ear.

  "He’s here for a club meeting," Yuka replied. Before she even picked up her chopsticks, her eyes darted across the room to the other table.

  The girls of Class 1 were huddled around Haruka Mochizuki. Their eyes met—Yuka and Haruka.

  What is that eyesore doing here? The thought was perfectly synchronized between them.

  "Matsue, you and Tomatsu seem pretty cozy," Ko said, nudging Jun.

  "We’re classmates. Let’s get to business." Jun immediately started eating. At seventeen, he had the metabolism of a furnace and zero patience for hunger.

  Ko announced the filming assignments. They’d be working in teams of three. Jun was paired with Natsumi Imukawa and her friend Yumi to cover the Band Club.

  "We’ll re-evaluate the groups after the first round of footage is in," Ko added.

  With the business out of the way, the table fell into the quiet rhythm of a shared meal.

  "Imukawa-san, aren't you hungry?" Jun noticed Natsumi hadn't touched her food.

  "I... well..." Natsumi’s face flared up.

  Ah, the shy type, Jun thought. He’d seen plenty of kids like her at the home—kids who turned into statues the moment a stranger looked at them.

  "Ko can be a bit intense," Jun said gently, "but he’s harmless. You don't have to be on guard around us."

  "R-right. Thank you, Matsue-kun." Natsumi reached for a piece of agedashi tofu, but her hand was shaking so much she couldn't get a grip with her chopsticks.

  Jun could practically see the steam rising from her head. He leaned over, grabbed the serving spoon, and carefully placed a piece of tofu in her bowl.

  "Mm..." she let out a muffled, incoherent sound.

  "Matsue-kun is quite the gentleman to our Natsumi, isn't he?" Yumi teased from Natsumi’s other side.

  Two sets of eyes burned through the restaurant’s chatter, locking onto Jun from opposite sides of the room.

  Jun ignored the joke and went back to his meal. He was just thinking of the kids back home. To him, Natsumi felt like one of the younger orphans who needed a hand at the dinner table.

  As they finished, the server brought over a stack of karaoke vouchers—a "thank you" for the large group booking.

  "Anyone from Class 2 want to go?" Rion stood up and called out. "If we pool our vouchers, we can get the VIP Mega-Suite!"

  "Sounds good to me," Miya said, speaking for Class 2.

  Yuka sat quietly, her thumb dancing across her phone screen.

  Ko checked his watch, then grabbed Jun as he was trying to sneak away. "Take the freshmen with you, Matsue! These vouchers are going to waste otherwise, and I’ve got a cram school session!" He shoved the tickets into Jun’s hand, effectively trapping him.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "If Jun-kun is going, then it’s a party!" Rion winked at Jun, her hand behind her back to block Haruka, who was currently trying to pinch her.

  Inside the VIP suite, the disco ball spun, casting fractured, colorful light across the leather sofas.

  Yuka sat on the plush cushions, texting Ko.

  Yuka: I told you to convince him to come over to our table. Why did you bring the entire Journalism Club?

  The "Read" receipt appeared. No reply followed.

  Coward, she thought. She looked toward the door. Jun was sitting there, as far from the center of the room as possible.

  The suite was U-shaped. Class 1 took the center, Class 2 took the far left, and the "anti-social" group—those who didn't want to sing—clustered near the door.

  But "anti-social" was a misnomer. Most were just there to watch Jun.

  "Yuka! Pick a song for us!" a girl called out.

  "Coming~" Yuka replied, her voice sweet as honey as she grabbed the remote.

  Haruka stood up and moved to the seat closest to the door, effectively boxing Jun in. She stared down a few other girls until they scurried away, leaving a two-seat gap between her and Jun.

  Jun sat with his hand on the sofa, tapping out a rhythm. He’d played the drums; he appreciated the beat.

  Haruka looked at Jun’s hand, then at her own. His hands are so big...

  "Aren't you going to sing, Mochizuki?" Jun asked.

  "Later. There’s a line." She slid a little closer to him. "How’s the job hunt?"

  Jun shook his head. "The bookstore fell through. I don't have time to interview before finals are over, so I’ll start fresh in a few days."

  "About that job I mentioned—"

  "I told you, Mochizuki, I can find my own work. You don't need to worry about it."

  Haruka’s fingers dug into the leather of the sofa. She didn't want an apology; she wanted a "Yes." The bookstore had been easy to shut down, but the idol agency was proving stubborn. They refused to let Jun go, and Haruka was beginning to lose her patience with them.

  "Mochizuki, shouldn't you be singing?" Yuka’s voice cut through the air. She sat down in the gap between them, perfectly blocking Haruka’s view of Jun.

  Haruka looked at her with a gaze that suggested she was contemplating a homicide.

  Jun leaned forward, watching the two of them. He was genuinely worried they were going to start throwing hands in the middle of a ballad.

  Haruka stood up and walked around to Jun’s other side, where Natsumi and Yumi were sitting. "Move," she commanded.

  "E-eh?" Natsumi squeaked. She looked around the crowded room, terrified.

  "Natsumi, let’s go," Yumi whispered, grabbing her friend. "This area is about to become a warzone."

  The seats near the door were cleared.

  "Wait, why are only you three sitting over here?" Rion asked, oblivious—or perhaps intentionally disruptive—as she sat next to Haruka.

  "I’m tired of singing. Mind if I join you?" Miya said, sitting next to Yuka.

  The "Cold War" had officially begun. Jun was the DMZ.

  "Hey, can I go sit with the guys?" Jun asked, raising a hand.

  "NO!" four voices shouted in unison.

  At the cram school across town, Ko Tsushima sat in a quiet hall.

  "I wonder how the 'Hustle King' is doing?" A sudden chill ran down his spine. "Maybe the AC is up too high."

  _______

  "What kind of music do you like, Matsue?" Miya asked, opening the floor with a safe question.

  "Depends on the mood. Instrumentals when I’m studying, but usually rock."

  "You like rock?" Rion looked surprised. "You look more like the 'Classical Piano' type."

  "Jun is actually quite unpredictable," Yuka said with a knowing smile, marking her territory. "He has a lot of... unique interests when he’s not wearing his school mask."

  Rion nudged Haruka, whispering for her to say something. Haruka just stared at the screen, the strobe lights dancing across her pale skin.

  "Oh! Who picked this one?" a girl asked as a bouncy, high-energy intro began.

  "That would be me!" Yuka stood up and grabbed the mic. She walked to the center of the room, her body swaying perfectly to the beat.

  "She’s so cute!" the girls squealed.

  The lights turned a vibrant, bubblegum pink.

  "The world is in a tailspin / But I’m just caught in my own spin / Falling for you in the middle of the chaos..."

  Yuka began to sing. It was a "Little Devil" style pop track—playful, flirty, and slightly mischievous. She moved with the grace of a professional idol. The girls of Class 2 cheered; their "Ice Queen" was finally going on the offensive.

  The guys didn't react much—they knew she wasn't singing for them.

  "A limited-time offer / And you’re the only bidder I want..." Yuka tilted her head, pointing the mic directly at Jun.

  "Is it charm? Is it luck? / Whatever it is, you’ve got me stuck..." She spun around, her skirt flaring out, her silhouette perfectly outlined by the pink light.

  "You hit the bullseye / Right in my heart..." She traced a heart in the air with her fingers, then "poked" the air toward Jun, as if she were literally touching his soul.

  The girls of Class 1 whispered frantically among themselves. "We’re losing! She’s too good!"

  When the song ended, Yuka sat back down next to Jun. She was glowing, a few beads of sweat on her forehead, and that familiar scent of lilies filled the air.

  "How was that, Jun?" she whispered.

  "Very different from your usual vibe," Jun admitted. For a moment, she had looked like a genuine siren.

  "I have plenty of other 'vibes' for you to see," she whispered, sticking her tongue out.

  Yuka shot a glance at Haruka on the other side. Rion had disappeared, leaving Haruka sitting alone.

  Rion reappeared a moment later, shoving a microphone into Haruka’s hand. "Your turn, Princess!"

  The high-energy J-pop was cut short. A new, melancholic intro began—a slow, jazz-influenced melody.

  Haruka didn't stand up. She stayed in her seat, her posture regal and still. She raised the mic to her lips.

  "The room is cold / Now that you’ve walked away..."

  "The past is a fog / And the strength I used to hide behind / Is fading into the gray..."

  A hush fell over the room. Haruka’s voice was haunting—ethereal and young, yet carrying the heavy, soul-deep sorrow of a woman who had seen too much.

  "I wish it had been raining / When we said goodbye this morning..."

  If it were raining, maybe you would have stayed a little longer.

  "I never knew what loneliness was / Until I met you / And now, for the first time / I am truly alone."

  Her voice wasn't loud, but it filled every corner of the suite. She leaned slightly toward Jun, her head almost touching his shoulder, though she didn't quite make contact.

  "The garden where we planted our dreams / Is overgrown and dying..."

  "I’ve said 'Goodbye' a thousand times / But just once / I wish you’d say 'Stay'..."

  Haruka looked down at her hand, which was resting just inches away from Jun’s. She wanted to reach out, to touch him, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

  "I thought I knew you / But I only learned who you were / After I lost you."

  "When the words fall like dead leaves / And the silence takes hold..."

  "I finally see / That I am alone."

  She sang of heartbreak like it was a cup of tea—bitter, but refined. Even the bouncy jazz arrangement couldn't mask the raw, aching vulnerability in her voice.

  The song ended. Haruka kept the mic to her lips for a long moment, leaning against the space near Jun, staring at his profile.

  The war had moved from the loading docks to the stage.