Chapter 188 — A Sudden Change, and a Call from Ryo

Even after the twenty-fifth had passed, Aoki still hadn’t found the so-called “right moment.”

Before that happened, though, he received a notice from KL Productions.

A last-minute change — the radio recording had been switched to a live broadcast.

Since this was news to him as well, Fujita Masahito hurried over to ask for Aoki’s and Kessoku Band’s thoughts.

Kei didn’t really mind either way.

After checking in with the rest of the girls, he replied with a simple, “No problem.”

But unlike a pre-recorded show, a live broadcast came with more risks.

Without a rehearsal, mistakes could happen in real time.

To be safe, KL requested a script from the production team so Kei and the others could run through it in advance.

Kei skimmed the script.

Despite being “live,” the content was almost identical to their last radio session.

First, a promotion for KL’s bonus-edition animation short BD.

Then, the usual variety of questions:

— Anything happy or frustrating happen recently?

— What inspired this particular song?

— Any plans for the future?

After that came the fan mail segment — always the most unpredictable part.

But according to Fujita, the production team would do their best to filter out anything too strange.

That was enough for Kei to not worry about it.

He agreed to everything and thanked Fujita sincerely.

The date and time were confirmed — one week later, at KL’s headquarters.

Kei sent back an “OK,” thinking that would be the end of the conversation.

Instead, after a short pause, another message appeared:

————————————————————————

[KL’s Fujita Masahito]: “Oh, right — one more thing, Aoki-sensei.”

[KL’s Fujita Masahito]: “Lately… have you seen the rumors and smear campaigns about you online?”

————————————————————————

Kei blinked at the screen for a moment.

He had, of course. He’d been worrying about it for days.

What he didn’t expect was for even the KL higher-ups to have caught wind of it.

Was there something more behind him bringing this up now?

Kei typed back:

————————————————————————

[Aoki Kei]: “Yeah, I’ve seen it. What’s up, Fujita-san?”

————————————————————————

The reply came quickly:

————————————————————————

[KL’s Fujita Masahito]: “Well, to be honest, I didn’t notice it at first either.
————————————————————————

It wasn’t until this morning, when I was scrolling through Twitter, that I stumbled onto a discussion thread.

It was started by a fairly popular music blogger — goes by ‘Amano Ryuu.’ The topic was about your personal history and the song you composed for us.”

Fujita sent over a link. Kei didn’t open it yet.

As expected, another message followed:

————————————————————————

[KL’s Fujita Masahito]: “After that, I dug deeper on Twitter and found the smear posts.
The thing is… Kessoku Band fans have already started defending you on their own.

I was thinking, maybe we could use KL’s PR team to help as well. What do you think, Aoki-sensei?”

————————————————————————

PR?

Kei froze for a moment before catching on.

Clearly, KL knew exactly what was going on online.

The meaning was obvious —

They wanted to leverage their PR power to defend “suuki-san’s” reputation.

That way:

1. His upcoming activities would remain unaffected.

2. They could strengthen their public ties to him, making their cooperation harder to sever.

Kei didn’t dislike the idea — or the strategy.

It was mutual benefit, after all.

And KL wasn’t trying to harm him.

But still…

He thought it over and decided not to agree.

Mutual benefit only works if both sides can deliver.

Sure, Kei could promise to compose another song for KL someday.

But he couldn’t guarantee he’d be able to dedicate large chunks of his time to them in the future.

More importantly, this wasn’t just about him — the girls in Kessoku Band each had their own schedules and priorities.

He didn’t want to pressure Nijika and the others into making time for a song they hadn’t signed up for.

If KL poured resources into defending him now, there was no guarantee they’d get a return on that investment later.

In that case, it was better to just decline.

He typed:

————————————————————————

[Aoki Kei]: “No need for PR. If I want to explain, I’ll do it myself later. But thank you, Fujita-san.”

————————————————————————

There was a longer pause than usual before the reply came:

————————————————————————

[KL’s Fujita Masahito]: “Alright… I understand, Aoki-sensei. In that case, I have nothing else. Please take care of yourself.”

————————————————————————

Kei didn’t respond further.

He stared at the message for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh.

The smear campaign was gaining momentum.

Sometimes he really wondered why did this kind of thing always seem to find him?

Then again, even Kenshi Yonezu had been accused of “faking depression for clout” when he debuted, and people had called his music “weird for weird’s sake.”

Thinking about that… Kei figured maybe he could stomach it.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he scrolled back up and opened the link Fujita had sent.

It took a moment to load.

The thread’s creator was “Amano Ryuu.”

Kei remembered him.

That viral video of him and Ryo being maliciously “shipped” together? That was Ryuu’s editing work.

And now he was starting a public discussion about Kei’s life story?

Curious, Kei started reading the top post:

————————————————————————

[Amano Ryuu]: “I watched the entire animation short from start to finish… and as a man in his thirties, I cried my eyes out.

The first time through, I held it together. But the second time… there was no stopping it.

In suuki-san’s fan group, I saw a post claiming that the song ‘I Once Thought About Ending It All’ was Aoki-sensei’s personal ‘letter of gratitude’ to himself.”

Everyone’s probably read the post by now. All I can say is… if every word of it is true, then without a doubt I’d like Suki-san even more.

In that animated short, the moment his voice first came in—the moment the protagonist’s tragedy began.

Then as his voice grew stronger, leading up to when the protagonist saw that note and decided to fight for his own life…

As a fellow independent musician, I’ll admit I used to be skeptical of Suki-san.

I believed that without truly experiencing something—without living through it yourself—you couldn’t possibly create perfect music.

But now I realize… I was judging him by appearances alone.

I only saw his success, never the countless struggles and sacrifices behind it.

If it were him ten years ago that still living in an orphanage—what would he feel listening to this song? Wouldn’t he have the sudden urge to cry?

Through the perspective of someone who endured and made it through, he tells me:

"Maybe you’d see a little hope. So even if it’s just one more day, hold on."

This is music that belongs only to him—music created by someone who once wanted to give up, but in the end, kept going.

Someone who once thought about ending it all, but now… has begun to look forward to the world again.

————————————————————————

The short post wasn’t long, and Aoki skimmed through it.

What Amano Ryu wrote was beautifully done—no wonder he has hundreds of thousands of fans.

Kei gave silent praise in his heart but didn’t comment further. He kept scrolling.

Below were many more discussions.

Some echoed Amano Ryu’s praise for the music, others debated the “orphanage” topic, and of course, a few instigators jumped in just to stir up doubt.

He scrolled past most of the ones he didn’t care about—until a certain exchange caught his eye.

————————————————————————

[Wind in the Hair]: You’ve gotta admit, Suki-san courage is insane. With no way out, he still threw everything on the line, betting his entire life on music…

[Cola Headphones]: Right? I’ve been wondering… when Suki-san made that burn-the-ships kind of decision, did none of the other Kessoku Band girls try to stop him?

[Sunny Egg Tart]: Seriously, yeah.

[Fresh Orange Juice]: You know… there is one possibility.

[Fresh Orange Juice]: What if Aoki-sensei purposely hid his past from them so they wouldn’t worry about him?

[Cola Headphones]: …

[Cola Headphones]: Actually, that’s possible.

[Wind in the Hair]: That’s possible.

[Sunny Egg Tart]: That’s possible.

[Fresh Orange Juice]: But hold up—if that’s true, then with the buzz going around now, there’s no way his bandmates wouldn’t see it, right?

If they found out, wouldn’t that mean all his secrecy was for nothing?

[Fresh Orange Juice]: If it were me—if I found out a friend had paid a price they couldn’t afford just for my sake… I’d feel crushing guilt.

[Fresh Orange Juice]: And looking at Aoki-sensei—paying all his tuition up front, dropping big money on a guitar, barely any cash left.

Renting a tiny room, and on top of that… whether it’s for his dream or for his bandmates… that’s definitely a price no one can afford without breaking.

[Wind in the Hair]: Nah, nah, we’re still just speculating here!

[Wind in the Hair]: But if it is true… gah! Are there really guys in real life like Suki-san—talented, handsome, deeply loyal, and willing to give everything for what they care about? Ugh! I swear, I just wanna marry him!

————————————————————————

The last comment was too ridiculous for Kei to bother with.

But just reading the earlier ones was enough to stir irritation in his chest.

Of course he knew this might happen.

The truth was simple—he’d avoided telling Nijika and the others about his past mostly because he didn’t want the hassle.

But now the internet had turned it into something far more noble than it really was.

Though… if he was being honest, part of him had wanted to keep his troubles from dragging down Kessoku Band. But that didn’t make it selfless—it was just… different.

Still, that wasn’t the point.

What mattered was this: if he didn’t clear things up, it would only get harder to explain later.

But… what could he even say?

Tell them, “Yes, I’m an orphan, but all that stuff online is fake, don’t believe it”? That’s basically admitting it outright.

So…

With a silent sigh, Kei pressed the power button, letting the phone’s screen go dark.

Out of sight, out of mind.

If there was going to be an explanation, he’d do it after the livestream event.

It’d be easier to talk it through live, anyway.

That was his plan—until his phone suddenly lit up again.

‘Bzz—'

The ringtone chimed.

Kei frowned slightly and glanced at the caller ID.

—It was Ryo.

He blinked in mild surprise.

Usually, if Ryo had something to say, she’d message him. Calling him directly like this was… rare.

Puzzled, but without hesitation, Kei answered.

“Hello? Ryo-san?”

For a moment, there was only silence on the other end.

Then, after a pause, her voice came—still as smooth as always, but with an undercurrent of faint reproach.

“Suki-san… you’re so underhanded. So awful.”

“…Huh?” Kei was confused.

But Ryo didn’t elaborate.

She waited a moment, didn’t respond to her own words, then spoke again—this time with a tone he had never heard from her before.

It was… softer.

Almost like she was holding back a trace of hurt.

The usual coolness in her voice was tinged with something else—something that didn’t sound like the logical, composed Ryo he knew.

“Suki-san…” she said quietly, “Where are you right now? I want to see you. I want to come… right now.”