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Chapter 92: So, you too....
🕑 Added 2025-12-06 16:00:15 +0000 UTC“Bocchi-chan,” Seika Ijichi said, holding Kikuri Hiroi by the back of her collar and facing Hitori Gotoh, “Does this one still owe you any money?”
“The older sister here doesn't owe me any more…” Hitori Gotoh finished, her eyes glancing at Ryo behind her, the meaning unmistakable.
Ryo awkwardly turned her head away, not daring to look Seika Ijichi in the eye.
I already offered to treat them and didn't let Ryo spend any money, so how was she still able to borrow money without me knowing?
Jhin couldn't imagine just how much Ryo spent on musical instruments every month.
In the end, Ryo and Kikuri Hiroi knelt on the ground, holding out the money they owed Hitori Gotoh with both hands. Seika Ijichi stood majestically behind them like a yakuza debt collector:
“You two scoundrels, say ‘Sorry for paying you back late!’”
“Sorry for paying you back late.” The two of them lowered their heads and handed the money to Hitori Gotoh.
“It's okay…”
After paying her debt, Kikuri Hiroi took a swig of the shochu in her hand and sadly bid farewell to her money:
“Farewell, my dear little money.”
Jhin felt that line was more suited for Mr. Krabs from Bikini Bottom than for a drunkard like Kikuri Hiroi.
“You should quit drinking. You didn't drink at all before you started performing, did you? Be careful you don't ruin your health.” Seika Ijichi's words of concern were delivered in a stern tone.
“Something that small doesn't matter!” Kikuri Hiroi, in high spirits, raised her shochu bottle towards the coffin: “Alright! Everyone get ready to head to Shinjuku!”
Hearing no cheers, Kikuri Hiroi pouted with dissatisfaction:
“Hey, where's your reaction? Aren't you supposed to be full of anticipation? Say GO, GO!”
“Can she really perform a concert like this?” Nijika was deeply skeptical.
Kikuri Hiroi couldn't even tell objects from people right now; she'd probably forget her songs on stage, or maybe even grab her bass and use it as a microphone.
“SICK HACK's performances are amazing, I guarantee it!”
Ryo's heart pounded at the thought of getting to watch them perform for free.
“SICK HACK?”
“Is that the name of Hiroi-san's band?”
“Yeah.”
Even though I've performed on the street with her before, I still don't know what her musical style is like.
Hitori Gotoh and Jhin walked hand in hand, a step behind the others. Hitori Gotoh stared at Kikuri Hiroi's back, and with the crisp “clack” of the geta on her feet, she began to look forward to the upcoming performance.
As soon as they reached the crowded subway station, Hitori Gotoh couldn't handle the seemingly terrifying flow of people. She fearfully pulled Jhin back and whispered timidly:
“Ah, today's performance was wonderful, thank you for the treat…”
“Bocchi-chan, we haven't even gotten to the venue yet!” Jhin pulled the trembling Hitori Gotoh into his arms, comforting her gently.
The group got off the subway and entered a building with colorful signs shaped like a seahorse and an apple.
Kikuri Hiroi stood under the warm orange light of the room, in front of a light blue iron door covered in various posters.
She raised her shochu bottle and announced with pride and excitement: “This is my home turf! Shinjuku FOLT!”
“Come in, come in!” Kikuri Hiroi swaggered inside, swinging her empty bottle.
Inside Shinjuku FOLT, the walls were painted deep blue and covered with all sorts of song posters and photos of rock stars.
Metal pipes crisscrossed the gray ceiling, and there were many old blue storage lockers of unknown purpose.
The serious atmosphere, so different from STARRY, made the girls a bit timid.
“This place feels so different from STARRY…” Kita Ikuyo placed her small hands in front of her, looking a little uneasy as she observed the interior of Shinjuku FOLT.
Nijika tried to comfort her with a relaxed air: “Don't worry, it's no different from my place.”
It's a little scary, but it seems okay. A performance space is a performance space.
As Hitori Gotoh thought this, she suddenly felt an unusually intense gaze on her. She followed the direction of the gaze and saw three people sitting on green plastic chairs at a round table in the venue.
One man and two women.
The man held a cigarette and took a drag from time to time.
The most important one was the girl with twin-tails sitting in the middle.
She was pouting, her cheeks puffed out, staring straight at Hitori Gotoh with a look of annoyance.
“Th-thank you for the treat of such a wonderful performance…”
Hitori Gotoh wanted to grab Jhin and run again.
“Yo! Ginjirou!” Kikuri Hiroi greeted a black-haired man with a single ponytail, curled sideburns, numerous ear piercings, and a metal bracelet, who was adeptly counting money.
“Huh?” The man turned his head in annoyance, his eyes, tinged with dark circles, glaring viciously at the source of the voice.
Nijika couldn't take his glare. With tears in her eyes, she hid behind Jhin with Hitori Gotoh, one on each side, and said in a choked voice:
“I… I want to see my sister…”
“Ijichi-senpai! Pull yourself together!”
With an introduction from the manager, Ginjirou, who had the body of a middle-aged man but the heart of a young girl, the group met the other two members of SICK HACK: the drummer, Shima Iwashita, and the guitarist, Eliza Shimizu.
It was worth mentioning that Eliza Shimizu, being British, hadn't originally come to Japan for rock but wanted to be the guitarist in a band that covered anime songs.
She even showed off a phone charm she bought at Summer Comiket.
Jhin took out the same charm. The two hit it off immediately, shaking hands excitedly:
“So, you're a fellow otaku!”
The two kindred spirits chatted about many related topics before the concert began. If Shima Iwashita hadn't dragged her away to prepare for the performance, Eliza Shimizu probably could have talked with Jhin for hours.
As the performance time drew near, the number of people in the venue grew, giving the Kessoku Band members a new impression of Kikuri Hiroi.
“The older sister's band is actually this popular.”
The lights went out, the curtain in front of the stage slowly rose, and a light like sunlight piercing the night shone on everyone's faces.
Amidst a hazy melody, Kikuri Hiroi began to sing slowly in her unique, lazy, and drunken voice.
The bass in her hands showed no sign of intoxication, played methodically.
The drums, amidst the hazy rhythm of the song, were like a precision machine that wouldn't make the slightest mistake, keeping the beat perfectly. Every strike drew you deeper into the music.
The guitar's emotional performance was perfectly placed, not disrupting the song's overall logic in the slightest.
Paired with Kikuri Hiroi's lazy vocals, it drew the audience below the stage into an absurd dream, so psychedelic and exhilarating it felt like their brains were about to flow out of their ears.
The light in Hitori Gotoh's azure eyes grew brighter and brighter. She looked up with admiration at the dazzling figures on stage, aspiring to be like every single one of them.
The performers on stage are heroes. Rock bands really are so cool!
Hitori Gotoh suddenly felt that performing at the cultural festival might not be so frightening after all.
