I Just Want A Single Ending!

"Sorry my parents talked with you both for so long,"

Gotoh Hitori apologized awkwardly after leading them to her room.

"It's no big deal; we had a good time chatting."

Ijichi Nijika waved off her concern without a second thought.

Kamigawa Saku agreed wholeheartedly. "Honestly, it was a relaxing conversation—no pressure at all."

They'd even asked her father to take down that embarrassing banner, and he'd agreed without hesitation.

"Haha…"

Hitori turned her gaze away, clearly feeling a bit awkward.

She could tell her friends had been chatting with her parents quite happily.

Happily enough to make her feel like she didn't belong.

Like she should've been outside, not here, sitting with them, making conversation.

At first, she managed to chime in here and there, saying a word or two to assert her presence, but as the conversation wore on, she completely lost her footing and had no idea when to jump in.

Even her little sister had no trouble fitting in, calling Kamigawa "Big Brother Saku" and Nijika "Big Sister Nijika" as if it were perfectly natural, as though this wasn't even their first time meeting.

Even their family dog, Jimmy-Hen, managed to bark a few times to draw attention to himself, sparking some small talk about dogs.

Hitori couldn't deny it—her younger sister and even her dog were far better at socializing than she was.

"So, this is Bocchi's room, huh? It's, um, surprisingly normal," Nijika said, looking around at the room's decor. "Definitely doesn't give off a 'cardboard box' kind of vibe."

"What do you mean?"

Hitori looked puzzled.

Saku chuckled and explained, "Remember how you once said something about playing guitar in a cardboard box? Something like, 'it's cramped, feels like home, and makes me feel safe'? So, on the way here, we couldn't help but imagine what your place might look like. But now that we're here, it's totally different from what we pictured."

"Well, that's because I usually play guitar here."

Hitori went quiet for a few seconds before opening the closet door.

"…"

Saku and Nijika both leaned in to look inside.

"With that, it does kind of match the 'cardboard box' environment."

Looking at the computer and guitar inside, Saku couldn't help but ask, "With such a spacious room, why do you play guitar in the closet?"

Nijika didn't say anything but just stared at the closet, frowning slightly, as if something had dawned on her.

Hitori answered quietly, "It just… it just kind of became a habit."

She really liked dark, confined places—they gave her an inexplicable sense of security.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to criticize. I just asked because we wanted you to play guitar for us in the spot where you feel most comfortable. But it's clear this closet can't hold three people,"

Saku observed, mentally sizing up the closet.

"N-no need; I can just play here."

Hitori took her guitar out of the closet and sat down beside the small table in the center of the room.

A gloomy girl like her could stay in that kind of place, but there was no way she'd make social butterflies like Saku and Nijika squeeze in there.

"Then think of us as your audience and play us something."

Nijika finally seemed to snap out of her thoughts. She sat down across from Hitori with Saku, ready to play the role of spectators.

"What should I play?"

Hitori was all set to play but hesitated, unsure of what song to choose.

"Anything's fine; we're not picky."

"Got it."

Taking a deep breath, Hitori steadied herself and began to play a recently popular song.

Saku and Nijika listened intently.

---

After a while…

"It didn't go that well, huh."

Since Kamigawa Saku wasn't exactly an expert on music, he left it to Ijichi Nijika to give feedback.

Nijika, with her gentle nature, found it difficult to be overly critical, so her comments were especially soft and cautious, avoiding anything too harsh.

"S-sorry,"

Gotoh Hitori murmured, bowing her head in embarrassment.

Playing guitar freely on her own was one thing, but performing in front of others was entirely different.

Even with just two people watching, she couldn't seem to play her best.

"Don't worry about it," Saku reassured her. "We're going step by step to help you get used to it. It's totally normal not to get it perfect right away."

"Take it slow; no need to rush," Nijika added, as kindly as ever.

"Alright… I'll try again."

Hitori took a breath and prepared to play another round.

But Nijika gently interrupted her, "How about taking a short break? You've already played for a while; don't push yourself too hard."

"Um, okay."

In truth, Hitori wasn't tired at all.

She usually played guitar for six hours a day. Compared to that, she'd barely scratched the surface.

"Well then, let's just chat for a bit," Saku suggested. "Might help to relax. Bocchi, feel free to talk as much as you like—it'll help get you comfortable performing in front of others."

"O-okay…"

Hitori agreed automatically, even though the idea of making small talk wasn't exactly her strong suit.

"Why don't you pick a topic, Bocchi? We'll chat about whatever you want."

Nijika smiled, giving Hitori a chance to lead the conversation into something she was comfortable discussing.

"Me? Pick a topic?"

Hitori echoed, feeling the weight of that simple suggestion.

But I can't do that!

She'd never started a conversation herself—she wouldn't even know how to begin.

"Yes!"

Nijika nodded encouragingly.

She figured that if she and Saku led the conversation, Hitori might struggle to jump in. This way, the topic would be something she felt connected to.

"Well… I…"

Hitori took a long moment, wracking her brain, but all she could manage were a few uncertain noises. Still, Nijika and Saku waited patiently, showing no signs of irritation or frustration.

Finally, gathering her courage, Hitori shut her eyes tightly, took a deep breath, and blurted out the question that had been bothering her.

"I… I wanted to ask—why is Saku-san helping me overcome my fear of playing in front of an audience?"

When she'd first agreed, she'd been so excited by the idea of someone willing to help her that she hadn't stopped to consider such an important question.

Only now did it start to sink in.

It made perfect sense for Nijika to help her—after all, if she could get over her fear, it'd benefit the band.

But Saku had no reason to do the same.

"Do… do you not want me to help?" Saku looked surprised.

Hitori quickly shook her head, trying to clarify, "No, no, that's not what I mean! I just mean… you don't have to do this for me. I'm not… I'm not worth you spending your time on."