The conversation with the enigmatic Senior Woyuan was brief. Once Sakurai Saki opened the door to their reserved karaoke room, she simply waved and melted back into the hallway.
"Don't forget to find me after tonight. The address is on the card. Sakurai-kun~ See you." Her tone was breezy, her demeanor untroubled, as if the vampire turf war disrupting the city's shadows was merely a minor scheduling conflict.
This was the agreed meeting spot with Kaguya and the others. Shirogane and Sakurai had arrived early to "secure the venue."
Inside the soundproofed room, Shirogane Miyuki stood with the mic, radiating earnest determination. "How… how is this one?"
One song later.
Sakurai Saki felt the distinct, burning pressure of tears behind his eyes.
What the hell?! How did he improve this much in just a few days?!
"It sounds… so good!" The words burst out, laden with genuine, overwhelming emotion—a direct conduit for today's side effect. The shock of first hearing Miyuki's sonic warfare last year, the arduous scale drills of last weekend—it all converged into a wave of profound, tear-jerking relief. Actual tears traced paths down Sakurai's cheeks.
"Huh? What's wrong? Why are you crying?!" Shirogane panicked, dropping the mic.
"No… it's nothing… Sniff…" Sakurai forced a wobbly smile, wiping his face. "My child… has grown up."
Shirogane Miyuki's face was a canvas of confusion. "…Sakurai, I feel like you're patronizing me."
"Don't doubt your feelings. I absolutely am." Sakurai affirmed, sighing with theatrical depth. "Remembering your babbling infancy… it feels like just last Sunday."
"'Babbling infancy' is going too far! That's slander!" The president's protest was weak, already overshadowed by a dawning, triumphant realization. "Well… since I asked for your help, I have to accept your critique." His confidence, fragile as it was, inflated visibly.
"Actually, Sakurai, there's a specific genre I've always wanted to try!"
A cold dread dripped down Sakurai's spine.
"R-a-p yo" Shirogane struck a pose that was likely meant to look street but landed squarely in the realm of 'overenthusiastic PE teacher.'
"Rap?" Sakurai Saki turned the concept over in his mind. Melody isn't a core component. This… could be survivable. "Go ahead."
"Alright! Here's one for you!" Shirogane navigated the tablet with sudden, frightening zeal.
...
Three minutes later.
Sakurai Saki lay supine on the pleather sofa, his soul having vacated his body. His eyes were open, staring at the swirling pattern on the ceiling as if it held the secrets of the universe. His lips moved soundlessly.
"…want to die want to die want to die want to die… why why why…"
The backing track ended. Silence flooded the room.
Then, Sakurai Saki erupted. He shot upright, a vein throbbing at his temple. "WHY WAS IT SO BAD?! HEY! SHIROGANE, YOU TONE-DEAF MONSTER!"
"GO EAT SHIT!"
"SHIT! FUCK!"
Normally, he would repress this. Today, emotions held the whip. Trash is trash. No amount of earnest effort or personal fondness can alchemize trash into gold.
"…" Shirogane Miyuki watched Sakurai's visceral breakdown, then slowly sank onto the opposite sofa. He rested his elbows on the low table, chin in hands, entering a state of deep, post-traumatic contemplation. "…My rap… does seem to have some issues."
The realization arrives! Twenty years too late!
Sakurai clapped his hands over his assaulted ears. The "rap" had been less music and more a psychic assault—like the viscous, tangled innards of a sea cucumber being forcibly stuffed into his auditory canals.
"Disgusting! No more! Not today, not ever." He took a shuddering breath. "It's a good thing you tested this on me. If you'd unleashed that tonight, I wouldn't be the only casualty."
Shirogane frowned, the hyperbole finally registering. "Dying is a bit of an exaggeration, isn't it?"
Sakurai Saki didn't grace that with words. He simply looked at him, his expression a masterpiece of pity, horror, and utter disdain.
You have no idea. The body count is theoretical, but my will to live is a confirmed fatality.
That evening, the full Student Council assembled at the karaoke entrance. Sakurai Saki and Shirogane Miyuki stood before the neon-lit facade with the stiff, unconvincing posture of first-time tourists.
"Ah, this… newly opened karaoke place looks quite nice," Shirogane offered, his lie so transparent it was practically audible.
Even Fujiwara Chika saw through it instantly. "President! You've totally been here before!"
Ishigami Yu, for once, wasn't glued to his phone. A full council outing was a rare event, and he intended to participate—even if it meant exposing his curated playlist of anime theme songs. When your darkest secret is already public knowledge, it ceases to be a secret. Such was the lazy god's philosophy.
"I just saw it a few times when I was working nearby. Never went in," Shirogane amended weakly.
Kaguya Shinomiya, however, found her enthusiasm for the event had dimmed. This gathering had been a ploy to maneuver Hayasaka Ai and Sakurai Saki closer. A ploy that now seemed redundant.
She didn't know the specifics, but Hayasaka Ai had been radiating a palpable, sugary joy since yesterday. Even in her 'Hasaka-kun' disguise, a persistent, fond smile played on her lips. Kaguya's gaze followed Hayasaka's line of sight—straight to Sakurai Saki.
A quiet, unfamiliar pang touched Kaguya's heart. 'Now that she has a boyfriend… will Hayasaka neglect me?'
Hayasaka Ai's entire world had traditionally orbited Kaguya Shinomiya with the fixed, predictable rhythm of a planet around its sun.
Now, Kaguya observed with a mix of fondness and faint melancholy, her planet seemed to have discovered a second sun.
Add one more, and they could cosplay Trisolarans—their world now had three suns.
"So, Hasaka-kun is a butler in the Shinomiya household?" Sakurai Saki inquired, already knowing the answer but needing to cement the public narrative.
"Yes, Sakurai-sama," Hayasaka Ai replied with a perfectly measured bow, the picture of professional decorum. "I have had the honor of serving Lady Kaguya for many years."
Internally, her thoughts screamed in a different direction: I want to hug him. Right now.
This was their first meeting as an official couple. The air between them was thick with unspoken words and stifled affection.
Unfortunately, Fujiwara Chika's bright, observant presence was a lock on her true identity. She had initially planned to come as her gyaru self, but Chika's unpredictable nature made that too risky. Yet, the greater restraint was a quiet, prickling guilt. Taking advantage of Chika's ignorance felt… unfair.
But I really, really want to hug him~
The new love blazing in her chest narrowed her world to a single point: her boyfriend. If she didn't bridge the distance today, Golden Week would stretch into a romantic desert. The holiday meant leisure for Kaguya, but for Hayasaka Ai, it meant a siege of social obligations and duties. Time was a luxury she did not have.
The private room was secured, snacks were ordered, and the unofficial karaoke championship began at 7 PM sharp.
Fujiwara Chika, the council's undisputed musical prodigy, took the mic first. Her performance was, predictably, flawless.
"Hehe~ Saki-kun, how was it?" She bounded back to the seating area, a triumphant sparkle in her eyes.
The seating arrangement was its own subtle drama: Shirogane and Ishigami formed one island; Sakurai Saki sat between Chika on his left and the duo of 'Hasaka-kun' and Kaguya on his right.
Chika's eyes landed on the box of takoyaki. With a deft move, she speared one with a wooden skewer, then turned to Sakurai with a practiced, cheerful "Ah~"
Sakurai, operating on autopilot from years of Chika's friendly food-sharing, opened his mouth. The savory ball was deposited.
"Is it good?" Chika beamed, pleased with her successful feed. In her mind, this was harmless, even helpful—a step toward deepening her bond with Saki-kun.
To her immediate right, however, Hayasaka Ai—the actual girlfriend—watched this intimate exchange. Her fists clenched subtly in her lap, nails biting into her palms. A storm of possessiveness and frustration brewed behind her politely neutral expression. Yet, she was mute. 'Hasaka' had no right to protest.
"Want another?" Chika chirped, already skewering a second piece.
Sakurai ate it.
Hayasaka Ai's sidelong gaze could have vaporized steel.
Sakurai Saki, his perceptions softened and emotionally amplified by today's side effect, finally noticed the intense aura emanating from his right. Misinterpreting it entirely, he felt a surge of empathetic concern.
"Hasaka-kun, are you hungry?" he asked, his voice gentle.
Before Hayasaka could formulate a denial, he picked up a clean skewer, speared a remaining takoyaki, and—cupping his hand underneath to catch any crumbs—lifted it toward her.
"Ah~" he offered, mirroring Chika's gesture with innocent sincerity.
Ai-chan's breath hitched. Her eyes widened slightly, the storm within momentarily stilled by sheer, flustered surprise. She glanced down, a faint blush creeping up her neck. After a deliberate pause, she leaned forward slowly, her lips closing delicately around the offered food.
"...It's delicious," she whispered, the words meant for him alone as she stared fixedly at the table.
"I'm glad," Sakurai replied, a warm, uncomplicated smile on his face.
And just like that, an invisible battlefield of glances and suppressed jealousy was swept clean not by strategy or confrontation, but by Sakurai Saki's emotionally-guided, utterly clueless act of peacekeeping. The tension dissolved into the synthetic pop music, leaving one girl satisfied, another secretly thrilled, and the peacemaker blissfully unaware he'd just navigated a diplomatic crisis.