7:00 AM.
Under the shrill ring of her alarm, Toyokawa Sakiko woke in a daze. Two dried tear tracks still clung to her exhausted face.
She couldn't even remember how many times she'd dreamt of her late mother by now.
Just a little more…
Let me sleep a little longer… let me cry in Mom's arms a little longer…
She'd been trying so hard lately—surely she'd earned at least the tiniest right to be spoiled?
But before she could scramble back into the dream, the alarm blared again. Her consciousness and thoughts were yanked—brutally—back into reality.
What her eyes met wasn't warm, gentle memories anymore, but a cold, dilapidated ceiling.
Her eyes stung. She grabbed the blanket with both hands, pulled it over her head, and curled into a tight ball, trembling.
After a while, she finally pushed herself up. The red at the corners of her eyes was unmistakable.
But in this cramped rented room, there was no devoted servant to fuss over her, no one to ask if she was okay.
She slid open the partition and went to the bathroom for a quick wash.
There was no mirror inside. Even the faucet was crusted with ugly rust. If she wanted to check her appearance, she had to prop her phone against the wall and use the camera to tie her hair.
Less than a minute later, she was dressed.
Quietly, she stepped into the living room.
As expected, her utterly worn-out father was sprawled there again, dead drunk. The entire room was a chaos of empty bottles. Calling this a place to live was generous—it was closer to a landfill.
Sakiko didn't speak. She simply stared at him in silence, her expression heavy, and her grandfather's warning resurfaced in her mind.
"Give up on him. He's no longer a member of the Toyokawa family."
And her own reply, back then—
"…Grandfather, watching my own blood destroy himself and doing nothing isn't the Toyokawa way either. Please give me some time. I'll find a way to make him pull himself together. That's my responsibility as his daughter."
"Please… I'm begging you."
The memory flashed past.
Sakiko still said nothing. She turned away and began packing the bottles into a trash bag.
Then she carried a pillow and blanket out from the bedroom, made sure he could sleep without freezing, and finally picked up her schoolbag and the heavy bag of bottles.
She trudged down the stairs step by step, handed the bottles to the old woman downstairs who collected recyclables, then followed the route she'd memorized toward the station.
A morning breeze swept through Sakiko's hair.
She pressed all her bitterness and worries deep down where no one could see.
Then her phone buzzed.
When she checked, it was a message from Wakaba Mutsumi.
A girl who was silent in real life and sparing with words online had sent only an image.
And that image was a screenshot of a new post—something Goto Doku had uploaded yesterday on his "Guitar Hero" account.
It was Mutsumi who'd told Sakiko that Goto Doku was Guitar Hero in the first place.
Mutsumi hadn't known who Guitar Hero really was at first. She only knew him as that weird person who loved wearing a pink tracksuit, had an ambiguous gender, spoke like a cringey chuunibyou, but played guitar insanely well.
Then Guitar Hero promoted his band online—and revealed his identity.
Only then did Mutsumi realize that the blogger she'd followed for years was actually a painfully gloomy, socially anxious guy at first glance.
As for Sakiko—she'd first seen Goto Doku shining onstage.
Then Mutsumi spammed her with a mountain of videos, and Sakiko finally understood: the incredible guitarist she'd seen live and the "Guitar Hero" blogger were the same person.
"…That post he made last night…"
Sakiko studied the screenshot so carefully she didn't even miss the punctuation, murmuring under her breath as she read.
"He looked so hesitant when he brought it up… so why did he suddenly make up his mind after going home?"
"What happened…? What could make someone that indecisive decide so quickly? I was planning to do long-term psychological coaching for him… who ruined my plan?"
"…Was it that runaway little sister?"
She lightly hooked her index finger under her chin.
From what Sakiko knew of her socially anxious senior, the only person who could influence Goto Doku's judgment somewhere outside her sight was the "little sister" he'd mentioned.
If it was her, then there was nothing to worry about.
A little sister wasn't a threat. She couldn't possibly shake Sakiko's position as her senior's one-and-only designated junior.
If anything, Sakiko should thank her.
It wasn't the way Sakiko imagined, but looking at the results, the sister had indeed helped her achieve a short-term goal.
Sakiko's goal was simple. In one sentence:
She wanted Goto Doku to stand onstage again.
In her eyes, a talent like him—someone who could sparkle under the lights and command a crowd's attention—
Shouldn't have his wings broken, shouldn't lock himself into endless work, shouldn't let reality pluck him bald and grind away his youthful fire.
It was too wasteful.
She wanted to see him pick up the guitar again. She wanted to see him onstage again.
Back when she was drowning in grief over her mother's death, she'd seen Goto Doku perform—and that was what pulled her back up, what reignited her hope for life.
And because that belief took root and grew inside her, when she later faced an even heavier blow, she could stabilize herself, make the right decisions, and not act on impulse.
That was why Sakiko respected him—genuinely, from the bottom of her heart.
Of course, she knew it was one-sided. If she had to name something concrete Goto Doku had ever done for her… she couldn't, really.
But sometimes people live for a single anchor.
Sakiko had a faint premonition: if she hadn't gone with Mutsumi to watch him perform back then—if she'd done anything else instead—
Her future might have changed drastically.
Maybe she would've broken down completely, run away from home in a tantrum, even taken that temper out on her bandmates and caused a fracture that could never be repaired…
Just imagining it scared her.
Thankfully, none of that happened.
Her grandfather had allowed her to accompany her father through his low point as "Toyokawa Kiyotsugu's daughter," not as "the Toyokawa family's heir."
During this period, the Toyokawa family wouldn't cover any of her outside expenses—but she was allowed to live at home.
And after that, she'd gathered the courage to set aside the pride she'd once clung to, explained her family situation briefly to her bandmates, and withdrew peacefully from the band.
Life was still bitter and bland.
But at least it wasn't suffocatingly stormy anymore. At least she wasn't drowning in hidden burdens.
All of it was thanks to her senior, Goto. Because of him, she hadn't become a worse person.
And when the day came that she returned to the Toyokawa household, reclaimed her power and wealth—
Sakiko elegantly tucked her hair behind her ear, the corner of her mouth lifting into a tiny curve she didn't even realize was there.
Then I'll keep my senior as my canary for life.
Wait.
Something really dark just surfaced in her mind.
N-no—no no no no no—how can I think that about my senior?!
That's so rude. So improper…!
Get a grip!!
It must be because the pressure's been too much lately. Fine—then tonight I'll reward myself with one relaxing evening, as a celebration for my senior deciding to pick up the guitar again.
Yes. That's what I'll do.
Sakiko took a deep breath and reset her state of mind.
The gloom and oppression from when she'd left home seemed to have faded from her soft, youthful face, leaving only a faint smile as she quietly hummed and boarded the train.
…
"Guitar Hero? Who's that?"
"Oh—someone I follow online! He's crazy good at guitar, but he hadn't posted videos for like half a year. Then yesterday he suddenly posted, saying he's getting ready to revive his account, and he's even planning to teach guitar! I don't know if it's offline or online lessons, but I DM'd him immediately!"
"You mean Guitar Hero? I know him, I know him! I watched him perform with a friend before! He's so handsome! Only problem is his bangs were too thick so I couldn't get a clear photo of his face… Tell me, tell me—if I DM him now, can I still learn guitar from him? I'm super into the type who looks like a gloomy introvert but turns insanely cool onstage!"
Haneoka Girls' Academy.
First Year, Class B.
Sakiko sat alone at her desk, head down, reviewing material from the previous class.
She'd transferred here because she heard the scholarship was generous. She had no intention of making friends—she just wanted to become a merciless studying machine and take the scholarship for all three years.
So she had no friends in class, and no time to make any.
Now, hearing girls nearby chatting about Guitar Hero, Sakiko's ears twitched slightly. The mechanical heart in her chest—sworn to serve only studying—gave the tiniest quiver.
Hm…
Talking about my senior, Goto, are they?
Interesting.
But it's still only this much.
Sakiko kept her head down, looking like the perfect honor student—the holy "Light of Haneoka," diligently studying her notes.
In reality, her grin had already stretched nearly to her ears, her face full of pride and smug satisfaction.
These people don't understand at all… who it was that made my senior want to pick up the guitar again.
When you're all still fantasizing about becoming his students, I've already become his junior. I'm already by his side.
Even five thousand years from now—no matter how many heroes or geniuses appear—no one will ever shake my position as his exclusive junior.
I'll even say this: none of you will ever become my senior's student.
She analyzed with delight.
Given her senior's personality, he definitely wouldn't dare look for students online.
The reason he mentioned it on Guitar Hero's account was probably just to test the waters—see what his reputation was like, see if anyone still wanted to watch his videos, and then decide whether to truly resume running the channel.
If he couldn't find students online, then where could he find someone willing to hire him as a guitar tutor?
The answer was obvious.
Me.
Sakiko wore a look of triumphant certainty. The moment she heard Goto wanted to tutor, she'd already decided: that guitar tutor slot had to be hers.
At the end of the day, what Goto Doku lacked was money.
He wanted a job that was easy, wouldn't make him too nervous, and paid well—so tutoring made sense.
So the question was: did she have someone around her who met all conditions—money, environment, some guitar potential—and had even met Goto once, someone who would let him lower his guard enough to accept the job?
Yes.
Of course.
Mutsumi is the perfect candidate.
The little Sakiko inside her lifted her chin proudly, amazed at how terrifyingly brilliant she was.
Given how close she was with Mutsumi—if she could make Goto Doku Mutsumi's teacher, wouldn't that give her another perfectly legitimate reason to be around him?
She could even use that as an excuse to make a three-person chat group. She could sit in and learn alongside Mutsumi while Goto taught.
Mutsumi wouldn't mind. And her senior would surely feel calmer teaching with a familiar face there.
If it went on like that…
Sakiko didn't even dare imagine how solid and stable her relationship with Goto Doku would become—with twice the "close proximity advantage."
Perfect.
Truly perfect.
As expected of the plan I came up with, desu wa.
There shouldn't be any accidents.
But just in case—strike fast and clean!
This afternoon at work, she'd go tell her senior!
The days of becoming even closer to her senior were just around the corner!
…
…
…
"Huh? Senior Goto… you already found a student?"
There's an old saying:
Don't get too pleased with yourself.
Sakiko had been praising her own strategy all morning—how flawlessly she'd calculated everything.
And by evening, she heard the senior she respected say he'd already found a student.
Crack.
Sakiko's smile froze.
She thought she must've misheard. Her plan was flawless—how could some "cat burglar" steal an opening?
"…Um… Senior Goto… can I ask what kind of person they are?"
Goto Doku looked away awkwardly. Truthfully, even he wasn't sure who the person really was…
When he woke up that morning and checked his DMs, everything was full of notifications. He couldn't possibly read them all.
And most of the messages were… well… how to put it… way too excited. He was too scared to reply.
He'd planned to spend the next few days sorting them and slowly picking someone who met his conditions.
But before he could even start, he received a friend request—from someone claiming to be his old classmate.
How did that person even get his contact info?
They'd gone back to his high school, found his homeroom teacher, learned his home address… then actually showed up at his parents' place with a gift, and got his contact information directly from his mom and dad.
Goto Doku was so shocked by that terrifying level of execution that he thought it had to be some new type of scam.
But after he called home, he realized: they weren't lying. This person really had gone to the school and to his house…
And for some reason, both his parents seemed extremely pleased with them. They nagged him insistently, telling him he had to meet them at least once.
Goto Doku wanted to refuse.
But when he remembered what he'd told Goto Hitori yesterday, and how strongly his family approved of this mystery "classmate"…
He thought: Instead of going home and picking through messages myself, maybe I should trust my family's judgment.
So he finally agreed. He set a time to meet after work at a restaurant.
To avoid awkward introductions, the classmate even sent their name first.
Goto Doku thought for a moment.
He remembered it was…
Kita.
Right.
Kita Ikuyo.
-------
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