Chapter 7: Rehearsal
Three days had passed since Takumi and Kotori started helping the Handicrafts Club.
The club building after school, free from the constraints of classes, buzzed with a different kind of energy and clamor. Lively voices spilled out from every room, filled with the excitement of club activities.
In contrast, the Handicrafts Club room was quiet.
Everyone was laser-focused on costume-making, a silent intensity swirling through the space.
At first, Takumi had been uneasy in this unfamiliar atmosphere of unity, wondering if an outsider like him really belonged. But after three days, he’d gotten used to it—no one complained or gave him weird looks.
Maybe they were just too pressed for time. Or maybe the first day’s heated “Okuribito Furīze” discussion had broken the ice.
Takumi, too, was pouring his all into it, diligently stitching embroidery onto the protagonist Furīze’s costume.
Embroidering Furīze’s outfit was, in a way, a big responsibility. Why was Takumi entrusted with such an important task? Simple: he was damn good with his hands.
The prop staff he’d made first earned him praise, and when they handed him a “kinda tricky” ornate clasp to try, he nailed that too.
Yagi’s eyes had sparkled as she gushed, “No way, this is insane! You could make the real thing!” and promptly roped him into embroidery duty.
Truth be told, Takumi had always been quietly confident in his dexterity.
Years of solo hobbies had honed his skills. He was meticulous with model kits, obsessing over every detail of the paint job, and threw himself into dioramas to recreate his favorite scenes. He took pride in his high-level craftsmanship.
Still, embroidery—and cosplay costume-making in general—was new territory.
Cosplay, to him, meant crowds, standing in front of people, and getting photographed—pure madness, something he’d never touch.
But once he got started, seeing his favorite work take physical form right before his eyes hit him hard. It was the same thrill as building models or dioramas. He got why Yagi was so into it.
Maybe he’d try making cosplay costumes as a hobby.
Kotori had shown interest in cosplay too. If he asked, she might even try one on—in her room, at least.
Maybe even aim to unlock the achievement of attending an event—his thoughts wandered as he glanced at Kotori.
“…”
Kotori was clutching a costume cape, looking flustered. Her eyes were fixed on Yagi, who was intently sewing on buttons.
Takumi remembered Yagi asking Kotori to attach hooks to the cape. She’d finished and seemed to want to report back, but her shyness was holding her back. Kotori was practically radiating notice me vibes, but Yagi was oblivious.
Sure, they’d bonded over Furīze and had some lively chats, but initiating conversation was still a hurdle for Kotori.
Takumi got it. Even he’d hesitate to interrupt a senior mid-task. The best he could do was join Kotori in silently willing Yagi to look up.
The lack of chatter was relaxing in its own way, but it made moments like this tricky.
Their eyes met. Kotori’s pleading look begged for help, but he shook his head slightly—no can do.
She kept staring, desperate, then seemed to get an idea. She pulled out her phone and sent a message.
“!”
Takumi checked it: a stretching cat sticker, their signal for a routine request.
Here? Seriously? Was she planning to use that empty classroom from the other day? How would they even explain ditching? Without missing a beat, he sent back a deformed boar making an X with its hands—a firm no.
“…”
Kotori’s face fell, her eyes practically teary, and Takumi groaned, guilt gnawing at him.
He wanted to help, but school was a tough spot for that. Plus, the thought of screwing it up again was terrifying.
Stuck, they both fidgeted, searching for a way out.
Just then, the club room door slid open, and Akira walked in.
Spotting the cape in Kotori’s hands, she let out an excited squeal.
“I’m back~! Whoa, that cape’s amazing! It’s straight-up Furīze! Is it done already?”
“N-Not yet. The hooks are done, so, um, for checking…”
Riding Akira’s energy, Kotori hesitantly held out the cape to Yagi. While Yagi inspected it, Kotori fidgeted nervously, clearly worried.
Finally, Yagi let out an impressed “Whoa.”
“Yup, perfect! Man, Nabata-san, you’re really good at this!”
“N-Not really.”
Flattered, Kotori flushed and gave a shy smile.
That smile hit Yagi hard. She clutched her chest dramatically, gasping, “Hau!”
“Ugh, so skilled and this cute… Hey, Ikoma-san, can we keep her? I’ll put her in all sorts of adorable outfits and take good care of her!”
“Uh, w-what…?”
Yagi, hyped up, threw her arms around Kotori.
It was just her way of being friendly—her personality was like that.
But Kotori wasn’t used to this kind of contact. Overwhelmed, she froze, eyes spinning.
Takumi watched at first, finding the girlish antics amusing, but Yagi’s hands started wandering—to Kotori’s chest, then her hips, her touches getting suspiciously bold.
Kotori, flustered, let out soft “Ah”s and “Nnh”s that sounded way too suggestive, egging Yagi on and making Takumi want to lean forward himself.
Okay, time to step in, he thought, but Akira beat him to it, wedging herself between them.
“Alright, alright, you’re not stealing our precious member~! You’re freaking Nabata-san out!”
“Tch~.”
Peeled off, Kotori scurried to Akira’s side, relieved.
Akira patted Kotori’s head soothingly, then gave an exaggerated “Haa” sigh at Yagi, who shrugged sheepishly. This was probably just Yagi being Yagi.
Regrouping, Akira surveyed the half-made costumes, murmuring in awe.
“These are seriously impressive~! I didn’t expect this kind of quality. Could give the pros a run for their money!”
“Right!? We were racing against time, prioritizing completion, but our two helpers are so good! Especially Hashio-kun—crazy skilled, handling embroidery like a champ!”
“Tch, thanks.”
Akira’s face lit up when she saw Takumi’s embroidery, her voice bubbling with excitement.
“Whoa, you did this, Hashio-kun!? That’s incredible!”
“Eh, yeah.”
“Seriously, and you’re so fast! If you were a cute girl, you’d be perfect! Too bad Ikoma-san’s not as skilled, or we’d totally want her…”
“Akira-senpai, that first day was something, huh…”
“Ugh, I saw it in my dreams last night…”
“Guh, Yagi and Hashio-kun, ganging up on me…”
Yagi teased Akira, and Takumi piled on. Kotori nodded vigorously, and chuckles rose from the other club members.
Akira puffed out her cheeks, feigning indignation.
Her arrival sparked chatter among the others—“The prez is such a perv,” “I mean, I’m into cute girl characters too,” “Nabata-san’s skin is flawless, what’s your skincare routine?” “Hashio-kun’s embroidery is unreal.” The conversation circle widened.
Takumi and Kotori could keep up with the work alongside the members, but talking was still tough without Akira.
Speaking of, Akira wasn’t always in the club room.
That first day came to mind.
Unlike Takumi, Akira was hopelessly clumsy.
She was supposed to assemble a pre-made scale prop, but somehow turned it into a cursed object with limbs. Taking out a wig? She made it an avant-garde beehive sculpture. Yagi, witnessing this, hid the freshly finished staff in a panic.
But Akira had studied violin and piano, and could play the keyboard. So, she was roped into helping with the band, prioritizing their practice. Apparently, she was pretty good, and having another person to dress up boosted the club’s morale.
Takumi wished Akira would stick around the club room, but there was no helping it.
By the way, Kotori, another loner by trade, was surprisingly deft too. Her skills usually went into her art—mostly yuri, her favorite genre.
Glancing over, Takumi caught Kotori staring at Akira with a heated gaze.
No way, he thought, his cheek twitching.
When Akira made a troubled face, Kotori, sensing it, quickly looked away.
Right on cue, Yagi tossed a question at Akira.
“So, how’s the performance side going?”
“It’s coming along great~! They said they’ve been practicing the song forever, so I’m just worried about not dragging them down. Worst case, I’ll fake it!”
“Haha, we definitely want you in the costumes!”
“Leave the wearing to me!”
“Sounds like both sides are on track with some wiggle room.”
“Oh, about that—”
Akira clapped her hands, remembering something, and turned to them.
“Kuroda-kun says practice is going well, so he suggested a get-together at karaoke this Sunday to bond. Depends on you guys, but if the costume side’s got room, what do you think?”
At Akira’s words, Yagi and the Handicrafts Club members exchanged glances before erupting into cheers.
“Sounds awesome, I’m in!”
“If we’re going, Rounds? I’ve got a membership card for a discount!”
“Time to sing my heart out~!”
The club members buzzed with excitement, chattering away. Akira joined in, all smiles.
Meanwhile, in a corner of the club room, Takumi and Kotori stared, dumbfounded by the sudden enthusiasm.
They exchanged solemn looks, nodding as if to say, This is a big deal.
After all, neither Takumi nor Kotori had ever set foot in a karaoke place in their lives.
For them, karaoke was an alien world.
They knew of it through anime, manga, and light novels—nothing more.
It wasn’t that they weren’t curious. They’d just never had the chance.
So it’s not like they were against going. They wanted to try it.
But for two people who’d spent school trips, work experiences, and camping retreats blending into the background, the idea was intimidating. Fact was, they couldn’t help but shrink back.
Still, with it being a “bonding event,” skipping wasn’t an option.
Plus, even if it was sudden, hanging out with club friends on a weekend was a chance to unlock a major achievement, a huge step toward conquering their ideal high school life.
Naturally, their next goal became surviving karaoke with everyone.
If they could pull off a group karaoke session, they’d be that much closer to their dream of a sparkling youth. Hell, they’d practically have one foot in the riajuu door.
But diving into karaoke blind, with zero experience, was reckless.
So, on their way home that day, Takumi and Kotori headed straight for a karaoke place.
The karaoke spot was in a facility called Rounds, two stations past their usual stop. Besides karaoke, it had bowling, billiards, mini-basketball—a real amusement hub for local teens.
In their entertainment-starved small city, Rounds was packed even on a weekday, swallowing up students in various uniforms and young people fresh from school.
They’d known about Rounds but had never visited.
Now, though, Takumi and Kotori stood frozen a little ways from the entrance.
“…”
“…”
The lively clamor and BGM radiating from the building overwhelmed them, their hearts pounding like drums.
Can we really go in? Don’t we stick out like sore thumbs? Maybe we should make an excuse and bail. Doubt crept in, rooting their feet to the ground.
Luckily, the crowd streaming toward Rounds paid them no mind.
Lately, they’d been fitting in with the Handicrafts Club, even managing some conversation, and they’d felt themselves growing. But this made it painfully clear—they were still far from “normal” standards.
Frustration tightened Takumi’s fists, his lips pressed into a hard line.
Then, Kotori gently tugged at his bag, whispering.
“Why don’t we go back and do our routine? If it’s getting late, I’ll go alone…”
“!”
Takumi’s breath caught. While he was just cowering, Kotori—pale and overwhelmed—was trying to take a step forward.
It hit him: Kotori had been working to change herself all along.
And what about him, her so-called partner?
He flashed back to their last routine, how he’d made her feel.
He could change too, starting now. Slapping both cheeks hard, he psyched himself up.
“Kotori, let’s do this!”
“Takumi!?”
Grabbing her arm, he charged into Rounds, beelining for the front desk without looking back.
“Welcome~!”
“Two, thirty minutes.”
No hesitation—Takumi rattled off the line he and Kotori had rehearsed, drawing on their experience with Toba.
“Got a membership card?”
The unexpected question blanked his mind.
“Uh, n-no…”
“Wanna sign up? You’d get a discount starting today~.”
“…N-No thanks.”
“Then Room 107 it is~.”
Clueless about membership cards and desperate not to fumble the conversation, Takumi prioritized escape. He grabbed the numbered card plate and speed-walked to the room.
Finally inside, he let out a huge “Phew~” and collapsed onto the sofa.
His hands were still shaking.
But he’d done it—navigated his first karaoke reception and made it to the room.
A wave of accomplishment washed over him, his lips curling into a triumphant grin. So this is what unlocking an achievement feels like, he realized.
Kotori, sitting beside him, clenched her fists in front of her chest, leaning forward with praise.
“That was amazing, Takumi! Your first time, and you handled the desk like a pro!”
“Heh, I panicked a bit when they mentioned the membership card.”
Takumi scratched under his nose, bashful under Kotori’s admiring gaze. The effort was worth it.
He’d managed the desk himself. It was a confidence boost. Maybe he could handle karaoke with everyone after all.
Calming down, he took in the room.
About three tatami mats in size, with a three-seater sofa. A monitor in the back, and on the table in front of them, a control panel, two mics, and a tambourine.
Probably a standard karaoke room.
But to Takumi and Kotori, who’d only seen such places in anime or manga, it was a fascinating new world, and they couldn’t help but look around curiously.
Now that they were here, it felt… cramped.
Kotori must’ve thought the same, muttering anxiously.
“It’s kinda small. Ten people on the day? Will we fit?”
“Nah, they’ll probably give us a bigger room.”
Takumi replied with a hopeful tone, praying he was right.
They already struggled with personal space. Being forced physically closer would be too much.
After a moment, they regrouped and checked out the equipment.
Takumi grabbed the control panel, fiddling with it.
(You can search by artist, song title, or even the opening lyrics? Tempo and scoring, sure, but what’s with the ♭♯ key stuff? Oh, you order food from here too.)
Even calling for a delivery redelivery made him nervous, so ordering without talking was a relief.
But as he messed with the panel, a concern popped up.
The key settings? He’d look those up later.
The real issue was food.
The exact time wasn’t set, but the price list mentioned a free-time slot from noon to six. The event would likely be during that window.
If they went all out, they’d probably eat lunch there.
So, what to do?
Eating at home first was an option, but that’d leave them empty-handed while others ate, drawing awkward attention.
Maybe they should decide what to order now.
But what if karaoke took priority and individual lunches got skipped? Party-style food, shareable at everyone’s own pace, might be smarter.
Frowning and grumbling over this unexpected dilemma, Takumi was lost in thought.
Kotori, who’d been quietly having fun tapping the tambourine and testing the mic with an “Ah~,” noticed and peered at him.
“Takumi, what’s up?”
“Oh, well—”
With a wry smile, he explained his thoughts.
Kotori got it, her brow furrowing as she mulled it over.
“Maybe we should—”
“Yeah, if we—”
They discussed what food to order and how to handle the day.
They settled on ordering shareable party food—pizza, fried chicken, fries, chocolate snacks—stuff you could grab with your hands.
Things like yakisoba or napolitan, needing chopsticks or forks, risked mixing up or dropping utensils, and they’d never speak up about it. Best to avoid that.
This drew on their experience with Toba—taking the lead. They’d need to finalize the order later, but having a plan was huge.
They exchanged relieved smiles, the tension easing.
Then, Takumi noticed Kotori fidgeting.
“Kotori?”
When he called her name, she just squirmed, looking itchy.
Puzzled, he watched as she took a deep breath, then mumbled shyly, eyes down but glancing up.
“Um… is it okay if I try singing?”
“Huh—”
A dumb sound slipped out of Takumi’s mouth.
Singing?
His eyes widened as he processed it, double-checking.
“—Wait, Kotori, you’re planning to sing on that day!?”
It was an impossibly high bar. He’d assumed, with so many people, they’d focus on chatting to get through it.
Singing in front of everyone? Just thinking about it could stop his heart.
It had to be the same for Kotori. Courage was one thing; recklessness was another.
She quickly waved off his shocked expression.
“N-No, not on the day! That’s impossible!”
“Right!? Man, you scared me. I mean, sure, it’d be cool eventually.”
“But… it’s just us now. I’m kinda curious about singing… I do it in the bath sometimes, but I only know the chorus parts…”
“Oh, gotcha.”
Takumi sang his favorite anime songs in the bath too, sometimes belting them out.
But he didn’t know the full lyrics either, humming through the parts he didn’t know.
Singing a favorite song from start to finish, full volume, would feel amazing.
Nodding, he handed the control panel to Kotori.
He figured he’d practice some backup vocals for the big day, hesitating briefly before grabbing the tambourine.
Kotori fiddled with the panel for a while, then stopped, her face growing serious. She stared at it, locked in a standoff.
Was she stuck on picking a song?
Or maybe she didn’t know how to use it?
Curious, Takumi peeked at the screen. She’d already selected a song—just needed to tap 《Send》.
The song was the first season OP of “Okuribito Furīze”. One of Takumi’s favorites too.
Wondering why she hadn’t tapped it, he looked at her. Noticing his gaze, Kotori, aware she was acting weird, flushed and mumbled.
“Um, I… I’m getting embarrassed…”
Looks like Kotori was getting cold feet at the last second. Even with someone she’s comfortable with, singing in front of another person was clearly daunting.
It’s like resolving to bungee jump, making it all the way to the platform, only to freeze when you see the drop.
Takumi got it. With a wry smile, he asked her, “Wanna call it quits for today?”
Kotori stayed silent for a moment, clenching her fists on her knees. Then, as if spurring herself on, she shook her head quickly.
“No, I’m gonna sing. You went out of your way to bring me here, Takumi. I’ve gotta try.”
“Kotori…”
His effort to push through and get them into the karaoke place seemed to have lit a fire under her. Knowing his actions had sparked her resolve warmed his chest.
Then Kotori leaned closer, her glistening eyes looking up at him, her voice soft and a little pleading.
“But, like, I could use a tiny push—Takumi!?”
“Here, good enough?”
“N-No… I mean, yeah, it’s fine, but—ugh!”
Sensing she was about to ask for a routine, Takumi tapped 《Send》 without hesitation.
Caught off guard, Kotori fumbled the mic like a hot potato, her teary eyes shooting him a sullen glare.
No way were they doing a routine here. Forget whether it’d even work—it’d be downright indecent. Takumi returned her glare with an exasperated one of his own.
The monitor switched, and upbeat music started playing.
Kotori steeled herself, gripping the mic and swallowing hard.
Takumi gave a big nod of encouragement, clenching his fist.
Lyrics appeared on the screen, and just as Kotori opened her mouth—
Prrrrrrr
“!?”
A phone blared in the karaoke room. Both Takumi and Kotori jumped slightly.
The sound came from a receiver near the entrance.
What the hell?
They hadn’t done anything to get in trouble.
They couldn’t just ignore it, but taking a call from a stranger with no clue what it was about was terrifying.
Takumi hesitated, glancing at Kotori, who held up the mic and shot him a look that screamed, You take it.
She had a point.
No choice—he had to do it.
Gritting his teeth and hyping himself up—This is nothing compared to the front desk—he grabbed the receiver.
“Five minutes left. Wanna extend?”
“Extend!?”
Flustered, Takumi parroted the words, not fully processing them.
Desperate, he looked to Kotori, who blurted, “N-No way!”
“No!”
“Uh…?”
“No, no extension!”
“Alright, got it—”
Takumi answered as if Kotori’s voice could be heard, then realized it couldn’t and corrected himself, hanging up before the staff could finish. A huge “Haaa~” sigh escaped him.
The song’s chorus was playing, but the mood for singing was gone.
Takumi shrugged, self-mocking.
“Guess we head home?”
“Yup.”
They locked eyes and burst out laughing.
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