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Chapter 195 – Livestream, Declaration of War, Words Without Hesitation
🕑 Added 2025-10-03 17:43:18 +0000 UTCBy the time Aoki arrived at the recording studio, the rest of the girls were already there.
He greeted them one by one, and finally, his eyes met Nijika’s.
Her eyes were still faintly red, though she’d clearly tried to adjust herself—unless you looked carefully, you wouldn’t notice.
But the instant their gazes crossed, she quickly turned her head away.
Just seeing him again made her chest tighten, as though she might burst into tears at any moment.
Nijika didn’t know how to deal with these feelings.
Right now, the only solution she could think of—the only thing that seemed “right”—was to quietly step aside.
Kita’s voice was powerful, the kind of talent that could lead as a main vocalist.
Ryo’s bass playing was growing sharper by the day.
Bocchi-chan, with her solid fundamentals, could always keep up with Aoki-senpai’s playing.
But what about her?
Did she really belong at his side?
Aoki-senpai deserved someone better.
He’d been accommodating her for so long already.
So… maybe the answer was obvious.
After some preparations and after the makeup artist gave them each a barely noticeable touch of light makeup.
The group sat down at a long table that had been set up for them.
The studio was well-equipped; everything looked professional.
Aoki sat in the middle, facing the livestreaming setup.
Beside the camera equipment was a large electronic screen, where real-time comments were already starting to scroll past.
On the far end sat the host in charge of the event.
Once everyone was seated, the floor director gave the signal to begin.
Flipping open her script, the host started brightly,
“Hello everyone! Welcome to today’s KL Company special interview! And today’s guests are… ta-dah! The members of Kessoku Band! Let’s give them a warm welcome!”
The group clapped politely in response.
Following the script, they each gave their self-introductions.
As they spoke, the scrolling comments began to pick up speed:
————————————————————————
[Ahhh! Suki-sensei is so handsome!]
[Love him!]
[Even better looking on livestream!]
[When’s the new song dropping?!]
[Trash! Just another manufactured star!]
————————————————————————
Aoki’s eyes lingered on the screen, but he kept his face neutral.
The host smoothly carried the flow forward, speaking with practiced enthusiasm.
“Ah! Having you all here today is such an honor~ I’m sure everyone watching has a lot of questions for Kessoku Band, right? Well—this is your chance! Ask away in the comments, and we’ll pick some!”
Immediately, the scrolling comments exploded in speed:
————————————————————————
[When’s the new song being released?!]
[Suki-sensei, are the rumors online true?!]
[Who’s your favorite member of the band?]
[Trash! Just another manufactured star!]
————————————————————————
The host’s expression faltered slightly when she caught sight of that last, repeated comment—but she quickly smoothed it over with a sweet smile.
Glancing at her script, she picked an easier question, “Oh, this one’s a good one! I’m curious too—what do you all think of KL’s latest animated short film?”
Her gaze shifted toward Kita, who was seated closest.
Kita answered cheerfully, “Ah… that short film was sooo moving! I actually cried! Like, really cried hard!”
Then it was Ryo’s turn, then Aoki’s, then Nijika and Bocchi.
As each answered, the comments flew by again:
————————————————————————
[Me too! That short film made me cry!]
[Honestly, only Aoki-sensei can truly relate to it, right?]
[Uuuu~ Suki-san!]
[Trash! Just another manufactured star!]
————————————————————————
The host deliberately ignored the repetitive insult, her smile never faltering.
Still following the script, she chimed, “Okay, next! Let’s pick another question from the viewers—hmm, let’s see…”
————————————————————————
[Pick me! Pick me! When’s the new single dropping?!]
[Will there be an album?]
[Any plans for a live concert soon?]
[Suki-sensei, will you leave the girls of Kessoku Band behind and go solo?]
[Trash! Just another manufactured star!]
————————————————————————
Aoki’s eyes narrowed slightly at the screen.
After a few seconds of silence, the host jumped back in, “Ah, here we go! Ahem—so, Kessoku Band, has anything made you especially happy or unhappy lately?”
The comments continued streaming endlessly.
The microphone was passed to Kita first.
She thought for a moment, then answered.
Then it went to Ryo.
And then, it was Aoki’s turn.
He accepted the mic, his eyes flicking once more to the glowing electronic screen.
For the fifth time, he saw it—that same baseless, venomous comment that had been spamming the feed all along.
He lowered his gaze briefly, glancing at his script.
The section read: “Free response.”
Aoki slowly lifted the mic to his lips.
He remembered what Fujita Masahito had told him that day.
“Truthfully, when KL chose to partner with Kessoku Band, they had already decided to tie their future together with yours.”
“Therefore, no matter what you decide to do, Aoki-san, KL will give you their full support.”
“To put it bluntly—it’s because your talent is extraordinary, your star power is undeniable, your music is powerful, and… because we believe your band has the strength to overcome its current struggles.”
“This is mutual benefit. The simplest kind of cooperation.”
Aoki wasn’t sure what kind of consequences his words would spark.
But—
He was sick of it.
Sick of hesitating at every step, sick of compromises that only led to endless attacks and rumors.
So, when he took the mic, he only paused for a moment before speaking.
His voice sounded no different from usual—steady, calm—but there was a slight lift to it, almost casual:
“There are a lot of happy things, and plenty of unhappy things too. But the one that left the deepest mark on me, without a doubt, was this—”
“After I released ‘I Once Thought About Ending It All,’ someone decided to post details of my past online.”
“For people in this line of work, I guess that’s nothing unusual. Still… once it spread, a lot of people began smearing me—saying I was faking it, saying I was just using it to chase fame.”
His grip on the mic tightened.
The girls froze when they heard him.
Even the host’s face showed clear surprise.
But she didn’t interrupt.
So Aoki continued,
“There’s no way I can prove those rumors false. And honestly—I don’t even want to. So with no way to resolve it, the only thing I can do is… put it aside for now. That’s all I can manage.”
“Because whether it’s these sudden waves of online slander, or companies cutting ties with KL and Kessoku Band… none of that is something we can control.”
“So yeah—that probably counts as one of the unhappier things.”
As soon as his words fell, the barrage of comments on the screen exploded, scrolling faster and faster.
His stance couldn’t be clearer.
Most of the audience—anyone who wasn’t just watching for drama, anyone who thought for more than a second—could instantly grasp the meaning behind his words.
This was a declaration of war.
NH Music had broken their contract with KL, refusing to distribute Kessoku Band’s songs.
That was nothing less than open provocation and suppression.
And the sudden swarm of malicious rumors online…
The fans could see it all.
Before this moment, they hadn’t been able to pinpoint exactly where the problem lay.
But now that Aoki had said it aloud, there was no mistaking it.
They could see, with perfect clarity, which companies, which organizations, were targeting “suki-san.”
That’s why this speech… was unmistakably a declaration of war.
Against the corporations trying to crush him.
But—
The pressure he would now face would multiply.
He would have to prove, and prove quickly, that he wasn’t just a manufactured scandal—that there was no secret backing, only real, undeniable talent in his music.
And beyond that, he would have to weather wave after wave of attacks from outside forces.
Aoki knew this all too well.
After he finished, he gave a small cough.
But instead of handing the mic away, he glanced at the host, blinking lightly, and asked:
“—I’d actually like to answer a few more questions. Mind if I talk a bit longer?”
“Ah—ah! Of course not!” the host said, surprised at first, but then nodding quickly.
So he went on,
“First—about the new song. Yeah, there’ll probably be one coming soon. I’m working on it.”
“And then, another question I just saw…”
“Whether I’ll consider going solo in the future—”
The words hung in the air.
The girls tensed.
Ryo knew what choice Aoki would make, but since he had deliberately singled out the question, unease still flickered in her chest.
Bocchi’s stomach sank; she couldn’t bear the thought of her senpai leaving Kessoku Band.
Kita—she supported him no matter what path he chose, but even so, she didn’t want to lose the bonds the band had built together.
And Nijika…
Her pupils trembled.
Her breathing suddenly felt heavy.
Her heart twisted painfully.
There was nothing wrong with going solo. No one could blame him if he did.
Even if he said he might pursue an individual career in the future, that didn’t necessarily mean he’d abandon Kessoku Band entirely.
But still—
Still—
Why did it hurt so much just to think about it?
In her mind, a memory resurfaced—Aoki’s words to her:
“I don’t have a dream in music. So—my dream is to help you. To help you, Nijika, reach your dream.”
The studio air seemed to freeze for a moment.
Then, Aoki spoke.
“…No, I won’t.”
“The reason I create music is for Kessoku Band. The reason I keep walking down this path is because of Kessoku Band.”
“There are a lot of reasons, sure… but simply put—if not for Kessoku Band, I probably wouldn’t be doing music at all.”
“That’s the truth. And then…”
“And then—”
He took a quiet breath, then passed the mic to the girl beside him.
“So, Nijika—why don’t you tell everyone about something that made you happy, or maybe… unhappy?”
And just before he let go, his voice lowered, so soft it wouldn’t be picked up by the mic—only she could hear it:
“Or if it’s something unhappy… you can tell me later, just the two of us. Okay?”
