A night deepening from blue into ink.
A tiny park with only a single streetlamp.
A girl sitting on a bench—eyes swollen red, knee injured.
And me, in an employee uniform, sprinting all over the place for half an hour—finally finding my target right before my stamina ran out.
Gotou Hitori clutched his chest, his face a terrifying shade of gray—honestly looking even worse than the girl's scraped-up knee.
Like some frail college shut-in who never exercises, forcibly dragged into a physical fitness test, made to run a thousand meters, and nearly died on the track.
Even so—despite his vision going dark,
despite feeling like he might collapse the next second—
Gotou Hitori still did his best to explain why he was here, proving he wasn't some suspicious creep.
Only after that did he allow himself a moment to breathe. He pulled a small wooden box from his pocket and handed it to the girl.
When she opened it—
a ribbon lay inside.
The precious thing she'd thought she lost.
It wasn't tossed around.
It wasn't dirty, or wrinkled, or crushed.
Unlike what she'd feared, it hadn't been thrown into a trash can, or used as a rag to wipe tables.
Instead, it had returned to her exactly as it was…
and folded neatly, too.
You could tell just from the fact that he'd carefully placed it in such a delicate little box.
During the time she'd been terrified she might never get it back—
it had been treated well.
"Thank you… really, thank you so much…"
The girl had finally stopped crying, but now a fierce sting rose in her eyes again.
This time it wasn't sadness.
It was the joy of getting something back.
She carefully lifted the ribbon and clasped it tight in her palm. Scalding tears slid down her cheeks, dripping one by one onto her skirt.
She wanted to stop the broken sobbing—at least hold it together in front of the person who returned the ribbon to her.
But for some reason, her crying only grew worse than before.
As if the "good girl" mask she'd been wearing all this time—
had finally slipped off her face and landed on her lap.
And for a brief moment, she could be her real self.
"Ah, um…"
Gotou Hitori's whole vibe started turning sketchy and scribbly. He had absolutely no idea how to comfort someone who was crying.
The last time he managed to calm Bocchi down was only because Bocchi was the one special exception in the entire world—someone he actually knew how to deal with.
But with anyone else, his mind went blank. After fumbling helplessly for a while, he could only awkwardly pull out a pack of tissues.
"…I have a pack of tissues here. It's unopened… um, if you don't mind… please use it."
The girl sniffed hard and raised her tear-streaked face again, looking at the nervous-looking clerk in front of her. She realized her current pathetic state must be worrying him.
So she tried to force a smile—trying to tell him:
After you came, I feel a lot better.
But when she saw him get even more tense, she gave up on the smile, embarrassed, and accepted the tissues. She blew her nose a few times.
Then she regretted it.
Because now she had used tissues in her hands, and she didn't know what to do with them.
She couldn't bring herself to just drop them, and she couldn't set them aside either. She scanned the park for ages but couldn't find a trash can anywhere.
"…There's a trash can outside the park. I'll throw it away for you."
Maybe because he'd been taking care of Bocchi, Gotou Hitori could kind of guess what girls were thinking now.
What he didn't understand was that the girl's main worry wasn't the tissues themselves—it was the fear of handling them poorly and leaving a bad impression on him.
Sure enough, the moment she heard that, the girl panicked.
If it were clean tissues, that'd be one thing.
But these were tissues she'd used to blow her nose—just thinking about it felt disgusting. H-how could she let someone else throw them away…?!
"N-no, it's okay…!"
She didn't know what to do, cheeks already red from crying, now somehow even redder.
"I-I can throw them away myself! You really don't have to go out of your way…!"
"But… wouldn't that be forcing you, miss…?"
Gotou Hitori's gaze fell to her knee—the scraped skin was torn over a large area, the abrasion looked severe even at a glance.
"Your knee is injured, and it's still bleeding… standing up will definitely hurt a lot… and walking would be even worse.
"So I think it's fine if I handle something small like throwing tissues away. And while I'm at it, I can check if there's a pharmacy nearby…"
Following his gaze, the girl looked down too. Like he said, the wound looked frightening… and if she didn't treat it properly, it might even scar.
But she still felt too embarrassed to let him deal with her used tissues.
And she couldn't think of any good excuse to refuse. The cheerful mask she usually wore wasn't helping her at all right now.
In the end, blushing bright red, she pulled out several clean tissues to wrap around the outside, then handed the bundle to Gotou Hitori to throw away.
By the time he returned, she'd steadied her emotions again.
Her eyes were still swollen and red, and dried tear tracks remained, but at least she wasn't trembling and choking on sobs like before.
"Um… I'm really sorry. It looks like there aren't any pharmacies around here…"
Gotou Hitori looked like he'd messed up badly; the shadow under his bangs seemed even heavier.
"I only bought you a drink…"
"A drink is great too, you know? I'm actually really thirsty right now. Thank you—it really helps a lot, Gi… no, um, Clerk-san."
The girl smiled gently.
This time, it didn't look like the strained smile from earlier.
Under the slightly yellow streetlight, her smile looked soft and carefully shaped.
Cute, pretty, sunny, bright—any number of compliments could fit.
Yet the fragile, messy side from when she was crying was nowhere to be seen, as if she'd hidden everything "unpleasant" within the blur of light and shadow.
She patted the spot beside her, signaling that he should sit with her.
Gotou Hitori hesitated, then stiffly sat down and offered her the drink he'd bought.
The girl beamed, eyes curving like crescents as she took it.
But unexpectedly, she didn't feel the chill of something cold at her fingertips.
It was warm—like stretching your hands toward a heater on a freezing winter day.
She blinked, realizing the drink he'd bought her was the hot drink she'd ordered back at the restaurant.
"…Pfft."
She couldn't help laughing.
"Um… do you not like that drink, miss…?"
Gotou Hitori jumped at the sudden reaction, worrying he'd bought the wrong thing.
"No, no—I really like it."
She shook her head with a smile, lowering her eyes to the cup in her hands.
"I was just thinking… Clerk-san, you're really considerate."
"You found me even in such a remote place, returned the thing I accidentally left behind, gave me tissues so I could wipe my tears and clean the blood on my leg, even kindly threw away the trash for me…
"And now even the drink you bought me is the one I ordered at the restaurant…"
"When you feel awful, and someone treats you this thoughtfully… it's like your mood gets so, so much better all at once."
"Thank you, Clerk-san!"
Gotou Hitori, embarrassed, looked away and finally let out a long breath.
He'd been afraid she might think he was being too attentive—creepy, even.
Thankfully, that wasn't it.
Honestly, he hadn't expected he'd actually find this "runaway little sister."
By the time he left the restaurant, both Hiroi Kikuri and Otsuki were long gone, and the "little sister" who'd run out first was even more impossible to track.
In Tokyo—one of the densest cities on earth, with a rough population estimate around 37.5 million—finding someone you hadn't even seen the back of…
"Finding a needle in a haystack" didn't even begin to cover it.
But somehow—
he really did find her.
As if fate itself had guided him.
Letting them meet again in this park.
…Though she probably didn't remember that, did she?
Gotou Hitori tried to glance toward the girl sitting at the far end of the bench—
only to meet her eyes at the exact same time.
Before he could look away, she spoke in a bright voice.
"Clerk-san, what's your name?"
She tilted her head slightly. Her golden hair softened under the lamp, like it had been brushed with a faint halo of light.
"My name is Ijichi Nijika. 'Niji' like rainbow, 'ka' like summer. If you don't mind, you can just call me Nijika."
Ah…
So her name was Nijika…
What a cute name.
Gotou Hitori thought that—then realized he should introduce himself too.
"Ah… I'm Gotou Hitori… 'Hitori' as in 'alone.'"
"Hitori, huh? Hmm… Hitori… That's a name with a lot of personality!"
Nijika folded her arms as if thinking seriously, then smiled and asked, "Can I just call you Hitori?"
J-just met, and she's calling me by my name…?!
Gotou Hitori went rigid, his thoughts dragged a long, long way into the distance.
The last time someone outside his family had called him by his name…
…might've been kindergarten.
The teacher had squatted down to comfort him because no one played with him…
Ah…
That was so long ago…
So this is what it feels like… to be called by your name…
"Hitori? Hitori…? Ah—um, sorry, maybe that's not good…? I'm sorry, really sorry…! I was too forward. I'll call you something else!"
It was her first time meeting Gotou Hitori "for real," and she wasn't used to his mix of social anxiety and odd unpredictability.
When she saw him suddenly lose consciousness, she thought he was sensitive about names, so she hurriedly waved her hands and corrected herself.
"Ah—um, you don't have to change it…!"
Gotou Hitori snapped back to reality and quickly explained when he saw her panic.
"It's just… it's been a really long time since anyone called me by my name, so I thought… it was rare, and I was happy… Ijichi-san, you don't need to worry…! Please keep calling me by my name."
N-no, wait…
Isn't that too direct…?
"Please keep calling me by my name," and all—
That sounds like something you'd say during a confession…!
Gotou Hitori's face heated up. But the words were already out; he couldn't take them back. He could only dig his fingers into his skin to relieve the embarrassment.
Luckily, the spot where he was sitting didn't catch much light.
So even if he was blushing, it wasn't obvious—hard to notice.
Nijika blinked quickly, as if holding back tears again, and let out a relieved breath.
She'd really been scared she'd made him uncomfortable.
That hard-won chance—something she could finally grasp again—
she'd nearly ruined it herself, right in front of her eyes.
But now it seemed she'd been overthinking.
The Guitar Hero's personality was even easier to get along with than she'd imagined.
Even though in band circles he was already considered a big deal—her sister sometimes said, If only the Guitar Hero could perform at STARRY just once…
Yet someone that amazing had no arrogance at all—
if anything, he gave off the feeling that he was constantly worried about whether he might accidentally offend someone.
A guitarist with both a great personality and great skill…
If she'd just stepped forward back then and invited him…
maybe…
she really wouldn't have had to go through so much.
"…Um, Ijichi-san, your eyes…"
"…Huh?"
Nijika froze, then belatedly realized her eyes had grown wet again.
Seriously.
Am I really this much of a crybaby?
Is it because I'm so happy to see the Guitar Hero?
Or because I've been hurting for so long, and at least today I want to cry until I've had enough?
I'm already an adult…
but I'm still like a little kid…
"…Don't worry. My eyes are just a tiny bit sore, that's all. I'm really fine."
She lightly wiped the red corner of her eye, then smiled again.
"More importantly… shouldn't you change what you call me, Hitori?"
"Huh?"
"Look— I'm calling you Hitori, but you're calling me Ijichi-san. Isn't that kind of weird?"
She held up two index fingers.
"One of those sounds like we're close. The other doesn't."
"I don't want to call you something distant like Gotou-san or Gotou-kun… so please cooperate with me a little."
"Be bold and call me Nijika, okay?"
M-me… calling someone by their name…?
Me?
Gotou Hitori leaned back, his face screaming this is impossible. He'd never done something like that in his entire life.
For someone with social anxiety, this was way too high-level of a quest.
Like being taught Attack and Dodge and immediately dragged off to fight Genichiro Ashina—one wrong move and you die.
I have to refuse somehow…!
"Hitori… is it really not okay…?"
But Nijika seemed to have predicted his thoughts.
She clasped her hands tightly, lowered her head, looked up with her eyes, and mumbled in a pitiful, wronged voice.
Gotou Hitori's pupils shrank. His heart screamed This is bad!
But it was already too late.
[Ding! Ijichi Nijika used the "Piteous Charm" on Gotou Hitori.]
[Ding! "Piteous Charm" was super effective.]
[Ding! Gotou Hitori has been defeated.]
"…N-Niji… Niji..."
Gotou Hitori curled up to the side, covering his face, stammering for ages without managing a smooth word.
Nijika didn't mind at all. Patiently, she praised him and guided him step by step.
"That's right, that's right—'Niji'! You're doing great, Hitori. Now, can we say the last character too?"
"...…Ka...… "
"Now connect the two together?"
"…Ni… Nijika...… "
Nijika nodded firmly.
Beneath eyes still faintly red—
was the brightest smile she'd worn all day.
"Mm! I'm here, Hitori."
-------
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