Band Girls’ Mixology Mission [186]

Mutsumi listened in silence as Sakiko slowly opened up. She wasn’t great at talking about herself, but she was sharp at reading other people.

And Mutsumi could tell—Sakiko wasn’t lying. Whatever it was she felt for Kikukawa Kyo, it was real.

So Mutsumi finally asked the question she’d shelved earlier.

“Sakiko, do you like Kyo-chan?”

“Ah...” Sakiko had braced herself for it, but hearing the words out loud made it hit home: she’d just bared her heart to someone—about something so embarrassingly, obviously pink.

She fumbled, then said it straight:

“Yes. I like Kikukawa Kyo. There’s no pretending otherwise. It isn’t gratitude for what she did for me. It’s that kind of feeling where just seeing her makes me happy, where I want to know more about her… that kind of like.”

The confession tumbled out, mortifyingly honest. She hurried to add, “Mutsumi, please don’t tell anyone—Kikukawa Kyo included.”

“Why?” Mutsumi didn’t get it. This wasn’t like Sakiko. The Sakiko she knew, once sure of herself, moved. That confidence had been there back when CRYCHIC was still recruiting.

“I want to confess to her again, but when we’re on equal footing,” Sakiko said, earnest. “Right now, I still owe her too much.”

She’s still clinging to that pride, Mutsumi thought. Very Sakiko.

“I understand,” Mutsumi said simply. Her face gave nothing away.

“Then… I’ll get going.”

“Mm.”

They split up there.

But someone else had been there the whole time.

Soyo was tucked behind a nearby barrier, both hands clamped over her mouth to stop a gasp. She’d overheard way too much.

So Mutsumi had known where Sakiko was the whole time—and Sakiko was actually in a Haneoka uniform, going to school there.

Whatever Soyo had come to look into today got shoved aside by what she’d just learned.

Sakiko… likes Kikukawa Kyo.

Soyo didn’t know why that hit so hard—hard enough that she forgot, for a moment, why she’d decided to tail Mutsumi at all.

Kyo-chan… How long have you known? Since that rainy day? Why didn’t you tell me?

Following today had cleared up some of Soyo’s burning questions, but it sparked a bunch more.

She quickly realized Kyo had kept the Sakiko situation from her.

Thinking back, at Soyo’s place, plenty of Kyo’s reactions said she knew something. But Soyo never would’ve guessed it—Kyo, the one who’d always seemed neutral in CRYCHIC, treating everyone the same, had already gotten that close to Sakiko without Soyo noticing.

I don’t want to let go—

That was Soyo’s first, gut-deep reaction.

Would Kikukawa Kyo—the one who’d given her warmth like family, the Kyo she wanted to protect—be taken by Sakiko?

The same Sakiko who’d left the band and shattered the place Soyo thought was her refuge—was she now going to take Kyo too, the second person who’d felt like “family”?

Soyo felt herself skidding toward a dark pit—and yanked herself back.

Stop it, Soyo… remember why you’re here.

After Kyo had scolded her, Soyo finally got it: even while she’d acted like she was doing everything to find Sakiko, she’d been holding back, hoping her messages would eventually earn a pity reply.

If you want something, take it with your own hands.

So when she got to school today, she chose her words on purpose. She’d only meant to ask Mutsumi to put her in touch with Sakiko—but today she pushed it: “Mutsumi, could you take me to Sakiko’s place?”

If the window request gets denied, suggest tearing off the roof—then they’ll settle for the window.

With that, she nudged Mutsumi into going to see Sakiko, and Soyo slipped along behind.

Maybe it was over the line—but her resolve had never been stronger.

It worked. She saw Sakiko. She was floored to find out Sakiko was at Haneoka, and even more stunned to see her and Kikukawa Kyo leaving campus together.

When Kyo and the others stopped at the café, Soyo didn’t dare go in; she’d get made. Even when they left, she kept her distance—just close enough to keep them in sight.

Worried Kyo’s sharp instincts would clock her, she hung back too far—and missed the small change in Kyo’s hair when she came out.

Soon after, Kyo left—probably for RiNG to meet Tomori and the others. Which meant Kyo likely wouldn’t be around later, when Soyo planned to talk to Sakiko alone.

So Soyo gathered her nerve and drifted closer—and ended up hearing everything between Sakiko and Mutsumi. Especially that line.

While she tried to sort herself out, Sakiko—after watching Mutsumi off—turned toward the station.

No more hesitation. If she wanted a real talk with Sakiko, this was the moment.

“Sakiko!”

A familiar voice rang out. Sakiko froze mid-step.

That voice—!

She spun around. And there she was: the last person she wanted to see right now—Nagasaki Soyo.

Why is she here? Is this a coincidence—or…?

If one were heading to RiNG from Tsukinomori, they would’ve gotten off several stops earlier. Even if they’d run into each other, she should’ve been coming out of the station—so why was she standing behind her?

“Soyo… you followed Mutsumi?” Sakiko’s brows drew tight, gold eyes filled with disbelief and disdain.

She hadn’t thought Soyo would go this far—clinging, pestering, tailing people. The realization made her let out a low, bitter laugh.

But what really caught her off guard was Soyo’s expression—steady, serious, and unflinching as she faced Sakiko’s accusation head-on.

“Sakiko, I have something I need to ask you!”

A widening rift.

What exactly was this girl trying to do?

Sakiko stared at her—at Soyo, standing there in the same Tsukinomori uniform as Mutsumi. She’d never imagined her old bandmate would stoop to following someone.

Her secret was out now; Soyo knew she was attending Haneoka. The only silver lining was that Soyo had stopped here—hadn’t followed her all the way to the bookstore to see her part-time job, too.

Sakiko watched Soyo. Soyo stared back.

Even after tailing her all this time, seeing Sakiko up close again left Soyo slightly dazed. For a fleeting moment, it felt like the CRYCHIC days again, when Sakiko had stood before them, leading the way.

But she quickly shook that off. Things had changed—whether anyone liked it or not.

Just one look at Sakiko’s expression made it obvious: this wasn’t the same Sakiko as before.

But Soyo couldn’t accept that. She couldn’t stand how something so precious had disappeared like it was nothing—like those days together had just been playacting.

She had to ask. She needed to know what had happened—what had pushed Sakiko to leave the band, to the point that CRYCHIC had simply fallen apart.

And… was there any chance to fix it?

“What do you want to ask?” Sakiko’s voice was cold, distant—stripped of all warmth for a former friend.

Resentment already colored the air between them, making what came next inevitable.

“Sakiko, why did you leave the band?”

The question Soyo had played over in her mind countless times finally left her lips.

Silence fell between them in the middle of the busy street. Their eyes locked, sharp enough to spark.

“It’s none of your business. I made my announcement that day. Do I really have to spell out my reasons too?”

A sharp pain bloomed in Soyo’s chest. Her steady expression wavered, eyes falling.

Those words cut deep—they sounded like a clean break from everything they’d shared.

If one simple farewell could erase it all, had any of it mattered to Sakiko?

Did she even remember how thrilled they’d been after their first Live, talking excitedly about the next one and all the fun ahead?

Did she know how much they’d worried when she stopped showing up to practice, stopped replying to messages—how much they’d missed her, the leader they looked up to?

Did she ever think of them enough to say even a small “Don’t worry” so they wouldn’t have to keep wondering where she’d gone?

Sakiko’s silence was answer enough.

Soyo wrapped her arms around herself, smiling faintly, brittle. “You really don’t want to tell me, Sakiko? Even though Kyo-chan already knows?”

“Or does that mean she’s the only one from CRYCHIC who still matters to you? That all our worrying meant nothing?”

Her voice shook, but the hurt and anger in it were unmistakable.

Sakiko blinked, caught off guard. Her frown eased—not with relief, but with confusion.

“Wait… that’s not it. Kyo and I are—”

“Are what?”

Soyo’s sharp interruption deflated her instantly.

As Soyo stared her down, a strange thought flickered through Sakiko’s mind: Soyo looked like a grieving widow, clutching old photos, clinging to the last bit of warmth from a dead past.

“I don’t understand,” Soyo murmured, voice trembling. “What happened to you, Sakiko? What could’ve turned the person who once gave me confidence and warmth, who shone so bright—into this?”

Wasn’t that the very question Sakiko asked herself? Even she couldn’t find the version of herself Soyo was talking about anymore.

“Enough.” Sakiko pressed her lips tight. She wanted to argue, but emotion hit harder than logic ever could.

“I…” She hesitated, then exhaled slowly, eyes closing and reopening. “I’m not looking back. It’s impossible now.”

“You guys can’t help me.”

Drip, drip.

The sun still shone, but its brilliance softened as rain began to fall—light and quiet.

People around them gasped at the sudden sunshower, hurrying for shelter.

But the two of them stood still, letting the rain bead and soak into their hair and shoulders.

The distance between them only widened.

Sakiko was trapped by reality, with no energy left to waste on a band that had only ever been for fun. Sure, they could’ve dreamed of a professional debut—but did they really have the talent for that?

And even if they did, Sakiko couldn’t accept anyone’s financial help. What could Tomori, Soyo, or Rikki possibly give her besides pity?

Meanwhile, Soyo still clung to those days when they played just for joy—because those memories meant everything to her. CRYCHIC had been her second family.

But now that she’d found a new source of warmth—and seen how much Sakiko had changed—her wish had shrunk to one simple thing:

Just one line. One reassurance that those days had mattered to Sakiko, too.

That the warmth she’d once felt wasn’t just an illusion.

But hearts don’t close distance as easily as footsteps do. Even standing side by side under the same rain, even meeting each other’s eyes, they couldn’t reach across the gap.

The rain kept falling.

Rain… how annoying.

Both thought it at the same time—and then, strangely, both had the same follow-up thought:

She’d probably love this rain.

And as if summoned by that thought, a cheerful voice chimed through the drizzle.

“Good morning, good afternoon, and good evening! What lovely weather—a gentle, romantic sunshower.”

An entrance that announced itself.

Beneath the soft blue veil of rain, with pearl-gray hair and clear ocean eyes, Kikukawa Kyo appeared beside them—smiling gently, eyes bright as she blinked at the two frozen girls.

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This is a fan translation of 乐队少女调饮行动 by 林明卿. 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!