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Chapter 201 – Still the Family Restaurant
🕑 Added 2025-10-07 18:17:06 +0000 UTCThe air was unusually dry that Saturday morning.
After yet another failed attempt at making his own breakfast, Aoki used his morning jog as an excuse to pick up some steamed buns instead.
They were from the same shop he’d gone to last time, but the taste felt… different. Maybe the cook had changed in just a few days.
“Well, it’s not bad… but I’m definitely not buying from here again.”
With that mindset, he finished his breakfast.
Barely ten minutes later, his phone rang.
It was Niijima Yūsuke.
Standing by the window, staring at the half-melted snow piled up on the roadside, Aoki wondered, Why would he be calling me this early in the morning?
He hesitated a moment before finally answering.
Outside, an old woman from the neighborhood was out walking her dog.
The movement startled a group of sparrows perched on the power lines.
They scattered, wings fluttering, and one landed neatly on the windowsill right in front of Aoki.
“Niijima-san? It’s pretty early—did something happen?”
Normally, unless it was about work, Niijima would never call him directly. And recently, they hadn’t even had any direct projects together.
So what could this be about… at this hour, no less?
Before he could ask further, Niijima’s voice burst through the receiver, urgent and slightly breathless.
“Aoki-san!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Last night—past midnight—I got a tip. About you!”
“...Me?”
“Exactly! A producer I usually work with let something slip. You mentioned on stream the other day that you’re planning to release a new song, right?”
“That’s true.”
“Well, apparently NH Music is planning a big move against you. Something like a coordinated smear campaign? Or maybe timing their own release to clash with yours? Either way—they’re planning to throw every chart-battle trick in the book at you!”
“...”
Aoki fell silent for a moment.
So that’s what it is...
If he had to guess, NH Music was going to drop a new song right when Kessoku Band released theirs—using their industry weight to dominate the charts and bury his side under hype and headlines.
Persistent, shameless, and annoyingly predictable.
He let out a quiet sigh. The irritation was almost numbing.
He still hadn’t even managed to sort out the complicated feelings between the girls in the band, and now this endless mess kept coming back to bite him...
“I see. Thanks for letting me know, Niijima-san.”
He paused briefly, then added,
“You’ve helped me a lot. First recommending me that KL internal connection, and now warning me this fast... I owe you. Once things settle down, let me treat you to a meal.”
“Come on, no need to be so formal, Aoki-san! Friends help each other. Though... when will you be free? Lately things must be crazy on your end...”
…
When the call ended, the sparrow on the windowsill had already flown away.
And honestly—knowing this “tip” didn’t change much. All he could really do was gather the band and practice harder.
He put his phone down, walked back to the sofa, and picked up the light novel on the table. With nothing else to do, he read to kill time until lunch.
Around eleven, he got up.
After that breakfast disaster, he’d given up on cooking for the day.
The temperature outside wasn’t too cold, so he slipped on a jacket and headed out—planning to grab lunch and maybe swing by the bookstore, since he’d already burned through most of the books at home.
He took the train, got off at Shibuya after who-knows-how-many stops, and began wandering.
After a bit of indecision, he settled on a family restaurant he hadn’t tried before.
The sign read Mango Sugarwood, a cozy-looking place with trendy décor—the type of café high school girls would love for Instagram photos.
Unexpectedly, as he stepped inside, the speakers were playing Lemon.
Pulling up his mask a little to avoid any unwanted attention, he ordered a set meal with a drink.
While waiting, bored, he picked up one of the magazines left by the restaurant.
The latest issue of Shūkan Bunshun.
The infamous gossip magazine—covering everything from politicians to celebrities, scandals to crimes.
Normally, Aoki would never bother with this stuff. He wasn’t the type who enjoyed gossip.
But as a public figure, he’d ended up seeing his own name in magazines like these more than once—whether he wanted to or not.
He flipped through the pages idly.
First article: Popular voice actor Takahiro Sakurai caught in an affair, apologizes on agency website.
Second: a murder case in Ōta Ward, Tokyo.
Third…
Aoki spotted at Shimokitazawa Station. What’s the truth behind the band’s inner relationships?
Below was a photo.
It was unmistakably Shimokitazawa Station. Ryo, wearing a scarf, standing on tiptoe and resting her hand on his head.
That moment she’d looked at him seriously and said, “Be happy, okay?”
He hadn’t expected that scene to be caught and sold as tabloid fodder.
But then again, as a public figure… being photographed in a busy station at 7 p.m. was practically inevitable.
What surprised him more was Bunshun’s efficiency—two days ago it happened, and now it was already plastered in print.
Still—he couldn’t bring himself to care.
This wouldn’t hurt Kessoku Band.
Fans and casual listeners alike weren’t going to judge him negatively over something this harmless.
In fact, knowing his fans’ weird thought process, the most likely reaction would be something like: “Nice! +1 point for Yamada-san!”
He really couldn’t wrap his head around why they thought like that.
Lost in thought, flipping through the pages, he barely noticed when his order finally arrived.
Except—it wasn’t the waiter bringing it over.
The restaurant owner himself had decided to deliver it personally, apparently after confirming that the masked customer in the corner was indeed Aoki.
Claiming to be a fan, the man lingered to chat, and Aoki had no choice but to politely play along.
By the time he was free, he just wanted to eat quickly and head to the bookstore.
But then—
“Ah—Ichiri, isn’t that your senpai from the band?”
A familiar voice rang out from across the restaurant.
Aoki froze, chopsticks mid-air.
Great.
So much for a peaceful lunch.
