Noon, Qingshan Saint Academy.
At this moment, Shiina Chisa was strolling through the campus, a poster in her hand. On the poster was a young girl waving a violin.
Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the leaves, casting mottled shadows across her delicate face, but it could do nothing to warm the coldness in her jet-black eyes.
Her fingertips gently brushed across the girl’s face on the poster.
“Music Club President, Hasegawa Aoi.”
The photo was well taken; the girl wore a faintly nostalgic and gentle smile, as if she were lost in her own world.
“Ensemble…”
Shiina Chisa’s lips moved slightly, silently mouthing the word. Of course she knew—she knew that Suzuki Yuu had spent almost all his recent free time with this upperclassman, under the pretext of learning cello.
That was also why she often saw Suzuki Yuu at night these days, though she hadn’t interacted much with either of them.
Instead, she often saw Suzuki Yuu and this girl chatting and laughing together.
She felt a little jealous, but she understood the reason. She had been too impulsive that day, and yet hadn’t even seen it through to the end.
Thinking of this, Shiina Chisa felt a bit of regret, but only for a moment.
Now, as she looked at the poster, she walked in the direction of the concert hall.
When she entered, she noticed a familiar face already seated inside—a girl with a pair of amber eyes.
Those eyes noticed her arrival as well.
Shiina Chisa saw the girl wave her over, clearly inviting her to sit down.
She complied, sitting straight down next to her, her gaze cold as she silently stared at the stage.
“You’re as aloof as ever. Won’t you talk with me a little more?”
Jingu Tenon’s clear voice broke the silence.
Shiina Chisa made no move to respond, simply answering in a flat tone:
“I’m not aloof, I’m just not interested in many things.”
“Isn’t that the same as being aloof… But you are interested in Suzuki-kun, aren’t you?”
Shiina Chisa didn’t reply, but her silence was answer enough.
“But lately, he’s been spending all his time with me, you know, and it seems like he’s purposely avoiding you.”
Shiina Chisa’s hand trembled slightly, clutching the poster a bit tighter.
“It’s just an agreement.”
Shiina Chisa finally spoke, her voice icy as frost. “President Jingu, you and I both know it’s just an agreement, one not much different from the one I have. Don’t act like you’re anything special.”
She tried to use the word “agreement” to flatten the difference between her and Jingu Tenon’s relationship with Suzuki Yuu, diminishing Tenon’s advantage to nothing more than a transaction.
“Is that so?” Jingu Tenon chuckled softly, amusement flickering in her amber eyes. She tilted her head and, in a tone as if sharing a secret, said:
“An agreement is an agreement, but the process of spending time together is different. Suzuki-kun is quite interesting—he comes early to the student council room to make coffee for me, we talk about many things, he even jokes with me…”
She didn’t finish her sentence, having apparently noticed the shift in Shiina Chisa’s emotions.
That was something she had rarely seen before.
“Do you really have to say these things just to provoke me?”
Shiina Chisa forced herself to keep her emotions in check, though it wasn’t anger at the other girl’s words—not exactly.
It was just that she suddenly remembered: when she and Suzuki Yuu were together, he used to do these things as well.
But now, he didn’t anymore.
Every time she thought about it, she felt deeply sad.
“To be honest, it’s rare to see you like this.”
“Have you done anything to him?” Shiina Chisa asked quite directly.
“Nothing at all. On that point, I can promise you. Of course, if you don’t believe me, feel free to imagine whatever you like and torment yourself with it.”
Jingu Tenon replied crisply.
“Mm, that does sound like you. You’re getting close to him mostly because of me, aren’t you?” Shiina’s tone seemed to regain its calm, her emotions settling somewhat.
“You could say that. After all, you know what interests me. I really can’t stand seeing talented people settle for mediocrity.”
“You really are awful,” Shiina Chisa retorted.
“Right back at you. Don’t worry—once I’ve seen what I want to see, I won’t bother with you two anymore.”
“So you only see him as a tool to provoke me…”
Shiina Chisa muttered, but then, as if she realized something, she suddenly stopped.
Jingu Tenon glanced at Shiina Chisa at that moment, but noticed that the other girl was no longer paying attention to her.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. It’s just that after what you just said, I can be completely at ease.”
“Why?”
“Because as you are now, Yuu would never be interested in you.”
Jingu Tenon was stunned when she heard that, not quite understanding what the other girl meant.
She was just about to ask, but noticed the performance was about to begin, so she let it drop.
Backstage in the concert hall, Hasegawa Aoi was talking with Suzuki Yuu:
“Uwah… So many more people came than I expected! So many members of the brass band, and even a few music teachers.”
“Do you know them?”
“Mm… Some are pretty famous, but never mind, let’s not think about that.” Hasegawa glanced at Suzuki Yuu, pointing at her outfit.
“Well, well? Is my makeup okay? Is there anything off with my clothes?”
As she spoke, Hasegawa Aoi was dressed in the same outfit she’d worn for the poster photo shoot a few days ago.
Maybe it was because she put extra effort into her appearance today, or maybe it was just the atmosphere of the concert hall.
Whatever the reason, she seemed even more radiant than usual.
Suzuki Yuu’s gaze lingered on her for a moment.
Her carefully styled short hair, understated makeup, and that deep blue performance dress all made her look as if she was sparkling.
He smiled, answering her in a reassuring tone:
“Perfect, senpai. So perfect that even if our performance flops, the audience will probably forgive us just for how you look.”
“You jerk! Can’t you say something nicer?” Hasegawa Aoi puffed her cheeks in mock anger, though the tension in her eyes had clearly eased. She nudged Suzuki Yuu’s arm with her elbow, “Can’t you wish me a little luck?”
“I’m just stating the facts.” Suzuki Yuu shrugged, taking his cello out of its case. “And with a beginner like me backing you up, what are you worried about?”
His half-joking remark finally made Hasegawa Aoi completely relax.
The girl let out a giggle, took a deep breath, and the panic in her eyes vanished entirely.
At that moment, a member of the student council came over to urge them to head on stage.
Hasegawa Aoi went up first, while Suzuki Yuu had to wait for the final piece.
“She’s so nervous, do you think there’ll be a problem?” a student council member asked Suzuki Yuu.
“Don’t worry. Didn’t you notice during our conversation just now? She wasn’t worried about her playing at all.”