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The Daily Life of Tokyo’s Phantom Thief [115]
🕑 Added 2025-10-28 13:49:41 +0000 UTCAnd so, the long-awaited day finally arrived.
After school, Rinto first walked the Yoshizawa twins home, then met up with Sakiko and Bocchi-chan before heading to the subway.
On the platform, they reunited with Momoka and Nina.
It was a first meeting of sorts—Rinto’s Light Music Club friends coming face-to-face with his live-in girlfriend.
And every one of them was a musician in her own right.
Even Nina, who once couldn’t imagine performing on stage, had since discovered her singing talent.
The lively, hopeful scene nearly brought tears to Rinto’s eyes.
“I’ll introduce everyone.”
As the link connecting all the girls, Rinto naturally took the lead.
For Bocchi, it was her first time meeting Momoka and Nina; Sakiko had only met Momoka once before.
After quick introductions, Momoka, the only adult present, greeted her new, younger fans with calm poise.
“Ah–ahh… Mo-mo-mo-mo-Momoka-san, hello! You’re my fan! (。>w<。)”
Completely overwhelmed, Bocchi’s face contorted into comic shapes as excitement and panic collided. She clutched Momoka’s outstretched hand with both of hers.
The ridiculous reaction drew laughter from everyone nearby.
Sakiko gently came to her rescue.
“Bocchi-san, you meant to say ‘I’m your fan,’ right? Everyone here is, actually. That’s just how amazing Momoka-san’s music is.”
Nina chimed in brightly, “Exactly! Momoka-san’s songs are the best! You get it! (>'ω`< )”
As a fellow fan, Nina was even happier to hear praise for her idol than for herself. Her affection toward Bocchi and Sakiko shot up instantly; she seized Bocchi’s hand and shook it hard in shared excitement.
The heartwarming sight made Papa Rinto’s chest swell with pride.
As for Momoka—flattered though she was—she blushed at the attention.
“Geez, stop it already. Compliments won’t get you anything… huh?”
Trying to hide her embarrassment, she suddenly noticed the texture of Bocchi’s trembling hands.
The calluses told a story—these were a guitarist’s hands, hardened through years of practice.
Momoka instantly felt affection for this pink-haired girl still quivering with nerves. She smiled softly and patted Bocchi’s head.
“You’re Bocchi, right? Do your best—I’ll be rooting for you.”
“~~~!”
Bocchi’s eyes immediately filled with tears.
Too overwhelmed even to spiral, she could only nod frantically.
…Gotoh Hitori hadn’t always loved playing guitar.
She was born into a happy family, with parents who got along well and a little sister ten years younger.
But sometimes, Bocchi’s thoughts turned dark: Maybe Mom and Dad had another kid because their first one—me—was defective…
What if, once I’m grown, they kick me out and I end up wandering the streets like a stray dog?
She’d spiraled into those kinds of delusions during puberty, even sneaking peeks at late-night literature far beyond her age.
…Yes.
Bocchi knew she was a loser who couldn’t fit in.
Every conversation started with an awkward “Ah…” Her mood swung like a pendulum, her reactions lagged, and she never found the right words.
Her grades barely scraped by. She was slow, gloomy, and friendless.
I’m the kind of useless person who wastes air alive and dirt when dead, right?
But deep down, Bocchi was grateful.
Her parents were wonderful.
Her dad had played music in his youth; guitars were always around the house.
Even their dog was named Jimmy Hendrix—Jimmy for short—in honor of the rock legend.
Still, Bocchi hadn’t cared much for music until middle school.
With no friends or hobbies, she spent most of her time online—just a silent lurker, invisible even on the internet.
…Then, three years ago—
When she’d just started middle school—she heard a song that changed everything.
The song was “Empty Box,” by the band Diamond Dust.
It hit her like lightning.
The lyrics burned with raw emotion—the confusion, passion, and rebellion of youth, raging against the “correct path” adults kept preaching.
It was rock in its purest form: raw catharsis.
Young Bocchi was shaken to her core.
And when she learned Diamond Dust was a four-girl band from Hokkaido who’d dropped out of high school to chase music in Tokyo—
Her admiration skyrocketed.
Even if my grades suck, even if I don’t have friends… as long as I’m good at music, I can drop out too!
A bit of a warped takeaway, but it gave her purpose.
Borrowing her father’s guitar, she locked herself in a tiny closet and began to teach herself.
Every spare minute went to practice.
Rain or shine, day or night, she played at least six hours daily.
She’d never stuck to anything before—but now, guitar consumed her.
She practiced until her nails cracked, her calluses split, and her blood stained the strings. She didn’t skip a single day.
That, too, was rock.
Even if I don’t have friends—it’s fine!
I have my guitar! I have Diamond Dust!
I have my social media! People listen to my covers! My followers are growing!
This is my place. I’m Guitar Hero!
…Until one day.
“Diamond Dust Announces Member Change.”
The news hit like a thunderbolt.
Her soul evaporated, leaving only cold emptiness.
The official reason was “musical differences,” the usual excuse.
At least the band wasn’t disbanding entirely.
But Momoka Kawaragi—the heart, voice, and soul of Diamond Dust—had left to go solo.
Bocchi felt as though something inside her had been torn in two.
She loved Diamond Dust’s songs—their cries of rebellion, all written and composed by Momoka herself.
She didn’t care about charts or popularity.
She didn’t know the band was struggling or broke—she was just a pure fan.
So when her favorite band of all time broke apart after only three years, she couldn’t accept it.
She’d dreamed of forming her own band in high school, blowing up overnight, dropping out, and living off music forever—
But Diamond Dust was gone.
With no interest in rumors or backstage gossip, she didn’t even know whether to keep following the band or Momoka’s solo work.
So she just kept playing.
Posting her covers online, soaking in the tiny comfort of her followers’ comments.
But still—Diamond Dust…
If I could meet them one day—
If I could play on the same stage as them—
That would be the dream of a lifetime.
...
“…Bocchi, are you really this obsessed with Momoka?”
On the way to STARRY, Rinto finally couldn’t hold back his comment.
From the moment they’d met at the subway station, Bocchi had grabbed Momoka’s hand and hadn’t let go once. To any bystander, it probably looked like she was plotting a kidnapping.
Since Bocchi could barely string sentences together even on a good day, her tongue now lagged several beats behind her thoughts. After struggling for ages, she still hadn’t managed to say a single word—just gripped Momoka’s hand with trembling fingers, face bright red, nodding frantically one moment and shaking her head the next.
The rest of the group exchanged helpless glances, unsure what to do.
In the end, Momoka—embarrassed but secretly pleased—scratched her cheek and said softly, “This might sound a little full of myself, but… you’re my fan, right? Thank you, Bocchi-chan, I’m really happy.”
She smiled gently. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. You’re Rinto’s kouhai, so that makes you mine too, right? Why don’t we exchange socials? You can message me anytime.”
“~~~! (?>﹏<)”
The hamster-like Bocchi immediately nodded so hard her long pink hair whipped around like crazy—now that’s rock.
They actually exchanged contacts, sending Bocchi straight into a blissful daze.
Seeing the chance, Nina mustered her courage and inched closer.
“H-hello! I’m Iseri Nina—just call me Nina. Is Bocchi your real name?”
“Ah… I-I’m Gotoh Hitori-poi… b-but please just call me Bocchi…”
Her aura of social anxiety radiated at full blast. She bowed again and again to the girl who was technically her senpai but shorter, looking one apology away from handing over her wallet.
But Nina herself was just another anxious soul pretending to be confident.
When the two faced each other, it was less like sitting on pins and more like meeting a fellow survivor.
Sensing something familiar and comforting in Bocchi’s nervous energy, Nina reached out to hold her other hand.
“Bocchi-chan, nice to meet you! I really love Momoka-san’s songs too—we’re the same type!”
Bocchi froze. “…?! S-s-same type… same type… so we’re friends… hehehee~!”
Her laugh was somewhere between creepy and adorable, but she looked genuinely happy.
Meanwhile, the elegant Togawa Sakiko quietly slid into the seat beside Rinto, claiming her usual teasing spot.
Casting him a sidelong glance, she said with a smile, “How lovely, Senpai. Your adorable kouhai and your new little girlfriend getting along so well—one step closer to that dream harem ending. Congratulations. May you live happily ever after.”
Rinto groaned. “Even if—and this is purely hypothetical—I did have that harem fantasy every guy’s accused of, Bocchi wouldn’t be part of it. She’s like a little sister to me.”
He watched the two anxious girls gush over Momoka until the poor woman was pink with embarrassment.
The whole scene looked like a mom with her two daughters (?), filling Rinto’s heart with fuzzy warmth.
But while he was busy smiling fondly, Sakiko’s gaze stayed fixed on him.
“Bocchi might not count,” she murmured, “but Nina-san certainly does. So? Have you already done something? A threesome with Momoka-san, perhaps? Very rock and roll.”
Rinto nearly tripped over his own feet. “What—no! Seriously, Sakiko, where do you get these ideas?”
He looked genuinely pained.
For some reason, this refined ojousama kouhai had decided that teasing him was her life’s mission. Lately, her sharp tongue had only grown bolder, as though she couldn’t go a day without poking him at least three times.
Of course, Sakiko never explained herself—that wouldn’t be elegant.
In her mind, she’d already confessed once. The fact that Rinto hadn’t picked up on it was his problem.
Sweeping her long hair behind her ear, she smiled gracefully.
“Oh, Senpai, I don’t misunderstand you at all. My understanding only deepens. Men who play in bands are all the same—I know the type.”
“And since your interests clearly extend beyond playing music to playing with the girls in the band, I can’t help feeling nervous. If I start my own band, what if you set your sights on me next? How frightening, desu.”
Rinto threw up his hands. “Relax! I swear I won’t do anything weird to you. I’ll even help you form your band—preferably with Momoka—ow! Sakiko-san, seriously? That’s my knee! Not very ladylike of you!”
Still, a part of him couldn’t deny it—being kicked by a pretty girl wasn’t exactly unpleasant.
And the faint irritation on Sakiko’s face only made her more charming. He couldn’t resist teasing her back.
So, with everyone in high spirits (or so Rinto thought), the group finally reached the entrance of STARRY.
But before they could descend the long stairs to the basement live house, a flash of blonde hair darted toward them.
“Rinto-kun~!”
Nijika came sprinting over, practically glowing—and panicked.
She launched herself straight into Rinto’s arms, eyes wide with urgency ( ; ω ; ), her little hair tuft spinning like a helicopter rotor.
“Please, you’ve got to help us again—we desperately need to borrow Momoka-san and Nina!”
Rinto blinked. “Huh? What’s going on this time?”
“Our backup guitarist just vanished! Radio silence! If we don’t find someone fast—like now—our show’s doomed!”
Rinto sighed deeply.
Of course it turned out this way.
Why did this kind of thing always happen right before a live?
---
This is a fan translation of 东京偷心贼的日常 by 七月雨季. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
