Social Anxiety and the Rock of Loneliness

Desperately finding a guitarist... that doesn't feel like a small matter anymore.

And tomorrow is the day of the performance! What are you going to do about Ijichi-senpai?

As for calling her, Kita Ikuyo sighed.

She no longer had the face to show up in front of them.

Ishikawa Hayato: "You don't need to worry too much about the guitarist. If it comes down to it, I can simulate the guitar sound."

"Also, if you don't come, I'll tell Nijika and Ryo that Kita looks down on your playing and doesn't want to hang out with everyone."

Scumbag!!

Kita Ikuyo was so angry she could grind her teeth to dust.

But after coming back to her senses, she understood what Ishikawa Hayato meant.

"I'll think about it."

The next day, at school, Kita Ikuyo still didn't know whether she should go.

If they had problems because of a rushed performance, wouldn't she just be watching them make fools of themselves?

She arrived at her classroom and saw Ishikawa Hayato getting along perfectly with everyone. She shot him a vicious glare.

He put on an awkward expression, shrank his shoulders, and clasped his hands together in repeated apology.

Lunch break came.

"Kita-chan, what's in your bento today?"

"I never said I'd share with you."

Kita Ikuyo chatted casually with her friends, but the corner of her eye caught a pink figure quickly passing by outside the classroom.

Her movements were light, with a kind of spring in her step, as if she was looking forward to something.

But more than the pink tracksuit, the guitar slung on her back caught Kita Ikuyo's attention.

A guitarist...

"Sorry, I need to step out."

Kita Ikuyo immediately put away her bento and chased after that figure.

From the hallway, to the stairwell, to the bottom of the stairs.

The figure disappeared.

Kita Ikuyo was full of question marks.

How could she lose her in such a short distance? After doubting her life for a moment, she heard a guitar sound.

A guitar sound that seemed like a low, screaming song.

Full of excitement, she arrived at her safe haven.

Gotou Hitori couldn't contain her excitement. She took out her guitar, then the small amplifier, power supply, and connected all the cables.

Let's practice a bit first.

She casually improvised a piece with little techniques like speed picking, tapping, and hammer-ons and pull-offs.

"Mmm, no problem."

In the lingering sound of the guitar.

She set the guitar down with satisfaction and turned around, eagerly awaiting Ishikawa's arrival.

Would Ishikawa-kun be surprised when he hears it? Ah, but he's probably already seen the videos online.

Thinking this, Gotou Hitori suddenly radiated a despairing aura like she was about to die.

But just as she turned her head, a dark shadow appeared before her eyes. The shadow said, with sparkling eyes, "That's amazing!"

Gotou Hitori was startled, then let out a sigh of relief.

Oh, it's just a ghost.

"You're Gotou-san from Class 2, right?"

The shadow revealed its true form. Kita Ikuyo crouched in this small space, holding her face in her hands and smiling as she asked Gotou Hitori.

"AAAAAAAH!"

Seeing it was Kita Ikuyo, Gotou Hitori was instead so frightened she twisted and deformed, flying straight up the wall like Spider-Man, clinging tightly to it with an expression like she'd seen a ghost.

Kita Ikuyo was startled.

To be honest, she was also hurt. She didn't quite understand why Gotou-san, when she came to her senses and saw her, was instead scared into that state.

"Um... Gotou-san?"

Pressing against the wall, her heart pounding wildly, Gotou Hitori panicked for a moment. Seeing Kita Ikuyo's awkward expression, she realized she'd done something very rude.

She climbed down from the wall, thought for a second, then tremblingly knelt in a dogeza bow.

"At least—at least spare my life until I finish playing!"

She shouted, her voice tearful.

"Spare you?"

Kita Ikuyo tilted her head in confusion, but quickly realized Gotou Hitori had misunderstood something and didn't dwell on it.

"Gotou-san, your guitar playing was so cool—how long have you been learning?"

Gotou Hitori got up from the floor, looked at Kita Ikuyo, blinked, and sensed the other girl didn't seem bothered. She relaxed a little and slowly sat up straight.

She murmured.

"Th-three years."

"That long!"

Kita Ikuyo covered her mouth in surprise, then immediately realized her words could be misinterpreted and quickly explained.

"Actually, I wanted to ask Gotou-san for a favor."

She spoke, and thinking that Gotou Hitori had practiced for three years while she herself had dared to join a band without knowing any guitar at all, a pang of guilt rose in her.

She lowered her head.

"I thought practicing guitar was easy, so I joined a band. But today's the performance, and I can't play guitar at all."

She raised her voice and earnestly pleaded with Gotou Hitori.

"Please, Gotou-san—could you go on stage in my place?"

"Eh..."

Gotou Hitori let out a conflicted groan.

24. Performance (4)

Just then, Gotou Hitori's phone rang.

She didn't realize it was her own phone and looked at Kita Ikuyo instead.

Kita Ikuyo paused, then reminded her.

"Gotou-san, your phone is ringing."

"Ah, sorry."

Gotou Hitori pulled out her phone in surprise and confusion, then scrambled up and crawled past Kita Ikuyo toward the exit of the cramped space.

Seeing this, Kita Ikuyo hurriedly said, "It's fine, don't mind me."

No, I was just trying to escape...

Gotou Hitori didn't dare refuse. She sat back down, glanced at the phone—it was someone she didn't know—hesitated, then answered.

"Gotou-san, it's Ishikawa Hayato. Congratulations on making a friend. I'm watching you from the top of the stairs, so I won't disturb you. Next time I'll trouble you to play for me. Oh, and sorry—I just got your number from the teacher."

Ishikawa Hayato rattled off everything in one breath, leaving Gotou Hitori no chance to reply, and hung up.

Gotou Hitori was stunned for a long moment, then dazedly looked up along the stairwell.

There, in a dazzling light that seemed to carry heavenly dust, a slender, elegant hand waved at her, then moved step by step along the railing, slowly withdrawing.

The feeling of her heart pounding.

What is this... it feels so good...

So Ishikawa-kun really did come. And he congratulated her on finding a friend—even though it wasn't really that...

She looked away.

For some reason, a sense of urgency welled up inside her, an eagerness to change herself.

She wanted the next time Ishikawa-kun asked if she'd join a band, she could say yes.

She turned her gaze back to Kita Ikuyo, who still wore a serious, pleading expression.

After hesitating for a while, she gathered her courage and spoke to this person she'd just met.

"Ah... well... I've never played in front of anyone before..."

Kita Ikuyo's eyes drooped in disappointment. Just as she was about to say she understood, Gotou Hitori continued.

"If you don't mind, I could..."

"It's fine! The seniors..."

Kita Ikuyo leaned forward excitedly, but her sunny smile only bloomed for a moment before slowly fading.

"They probably won't be too strict..."

She lowered her head again, uncertain.

"Eh..." Gotou Hitori nervously leaned back.

"At least let senpai hear you play. You're so good, Gotou-san—there's no way it'll be a problem."

Kita Ikuyo encouraged her.

After school.

Gotou Hitori regretted it. She regretted it immensely.

She even looked for a time machine for a while. She even sent herself a text message—one with a timer, set for that morning.

'Absolutely do not agree to Kita-san's request.'

After all that fussing, she dragged herself toward the livehouse a few kilometers away.

It wasn't the distance that made her not want to go. It was because...

"Then I'll leave it to you, Gotou-san. I already talked to Ijichi-senpai—she'll come pick you up."

"Huh? What about Kita-san?"

Asked this, Kita Ikuyo wore an awkward expression. She averted her gaze and said, looking rather embarrassed, "I'm not going. Do your best, Gotou-san!"

She clenched her fist to encourage Gotou Hitori.

Gotou Hitori smiled, blood spilling from the corner of her mouth.

The memory ended. She walked alone along a roadside where even the sunset couldn't reach, head lowered, staring at the small weeds growing along the curb, her heart heavy.