Tokyo: To reiterate, this is not a dating system.

77. Love

School clinic/psychological therapy room.

Genji Aoyama glanced at Shizuka Yoda with some surprise.

But after thinking about it, it seems to make sense, since Izumo Saki had said before that Yoda Shizuka was her attending physician, and that's why Aoyama Genji came here.

"Yes." He nodded.

"As expected," Shizuka Yoda said with a smile.

"It seems that Yoda-sensei knows about Saki's current situation?" Aoyama Genji asked with some doubt.

Just as Genji Aoyama was pondering whether or not to share what he had observed, Shizuka Yoda smiled.

"Don't worry, young man." That smile seemed to have a magical power, bringing comfort.

"I can roughly guess what's going on with Saki," Shizuka Yoda said with a calm smile and a relaxed tone. "I'll tell you a story, and you'll understand, young man."

"Please go ahead, Professor Yoda."

"It's like an ordinary writer who wakes up one day and suddenly finds himself with a burst of inspiration, and as soon as he picks up a pen, a constant stream of ideas flows out."

Later, the writer easily achieved success, possessing wealth, status, and fame, until one day he found himself unable to write anything, plunging him into confusion and struggle.

The story is quite easy to understand. Aoyama Genji had also consulted relevant materials and came to the conclusion without much deliberation.

"Is Saki just going through a phase where she can't accept this sense of loss?" He looked at Shizuka Yoda and asked tentatively.

"The boy is very smart."

Yoda nodded approvingly. "Like that writer, this is a stage that Saki has to go through."

Genji Aoyama took a deep breath, his mood relaxing slightly: "So, this is a normal reaction to the medication?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I wanted to say."

Shizuka Yoda looked intently at Genji Aoyama. "The medication only helps to stabilize her condition. But if we want her to get through this phase smoothly and even let her talent blossom again, we need love."

"I see."

As he said this, Genji Aoyama noticed that the girl called "Ai" seemed to move slightly.

"Thank you very much, Professor Yoda."

With his doubts dispelled, Genji Aoyama said solemnly, "Then, I won't bother you any longer."

"Go, young man."

As he turned around, his gaze inadvertently swept towards the direction of the sofa, where the exquisitely beautiful girl, like a doll, was still sitting, without even changing her posture.

As I walked out of the school clinic and back into the corridor, I could faintly hear voices coming from the courtyard. Occasionally, I could see people standing in front of the display windows, seemingly talking about something.

Genji Aoyama observed for a while through the window.

The sun was obscured by a thin wisp of cloud in the sky, but the cloud was blown away by the wind moments later, and the courtyard was once again bathed in the afternoon light.

"Sorry to bother you~"

The voice was as lively as ever. Genji Aoyama looked in a certain direction—Saki Izumo was introducing the performance the day after tomorrow to a girl standing in front of the shop window.

The sunlight reflected off the glass outside the shop window, making it slightly dazzling.

Aoyama Genji left the corridor, his steps lighter than when he arrived.

He walked from the first floor of the special building into the atrium, heading towards Saki Izumo.

"Hello Hello~" Izumo Saki waved and greeted Aoyama Genji when she saw him. "Aoyama-kun, over here."

"I'm here to see Saki," he said with a smile as he approached Saki Izumo. "How did it go?"

"Hmm... a little bit novel?" she said, tilting her head.

Genji Aoyama glanced at the poster in Saki Izumo's hand; there weren't many left. A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he spoke:

"I thought someone like Saki, a young lady from a wealthy family, wouldn't like this kind of work, but I didn't expect her to do it so well. Hmm, let me think of how to praise you?"

"Uh-huh!"

Saki Izumo blinked her almond-shaped eyes, looking expectantly at Genji Aoyama.

"That was great, Saki," he said.

Izumo Saki seemed somewhat dissatisfied with this statement, her cheeks puffing out adorably, while Aoyama Genji himself felt a little pale.

"Well, I'm not very good at praising people, but anyway, Saki has already tried her best." He gently patted Saki's head again.

It's fluffy and feels really nice to the touch.

"hey-hey."

Saki Izumo seemed quite easily satisfied. She smiled and showed Genji Aoyama the few invitations she had: "Everyone seems quite interested in the performance of beautiful girls. It went much more smoothly than I expected."

"The performance might go just as smoothly." After saying that, Genji Aoyama began to observe Saki Izumo.

"Yes...right?"

Saki Izumo's voice betrayed a hint of insecurity, and her hand holding the invitation seemed to pause for a moment.

"So that's where the problem lies?"

Genji Aoyama thought for a moment, then smiled and said, "Don't worry, there won't be any problems. After all, everyone has worked so hard for the performance, so I'm sure it will be rewarding."

"Mm." Izumo Saki nodded.

According to the original plan, after the publicity mission was completed, the band was to return to the activity room for a final training session before the dress rehearsal.

Thanks to the student council's assistance, the training started much earlier than expected.

Before four o'clock, the band members had already gathered in the event room.

Genji Aoyama glanced at Saki Izumo, who was standing in the lead vocal position, her fingers trembling slightly as she pressed the bass strings, causing the strings to vibrate softly as if struggling to produce a low, strained sound.

"Don't put too much pressure on yourself. Just like you would during regular training," Genji Aoyama paused, looked around at everyone, and then announced, "So, let's begin."

The song opens with a highly recognizable guitar intro, instantly creating a refreshing yet urgent atmosphere.

Then the vocals began, with Izumo Saki's deliberately lowered boyish voice accompanying the drumbeats and bass.

Genji Aoyama listened attentively while keeping time with the rhythm.

After listening to the song for a while, before it was even finished, he had already come to a conclusion—compared to the training he received at the music academy last time, this time the listening experience was much worse.

Although it is still quite well-made, the band members seem somewhat dissatisfied.

Suzuki, Sugiura, and Shibuya glanced at Izumo Saki with concern, none of them speaking. Then they all turned their gaze to Aoyama Genji, seemingly waiting for his judgment.

Genji Aoyama looked at Saki Izumo, whose head was slightly lowered—

The problem was indeed with her, but he couldn't bring himself to blame her.

In many songs, the bass line and the vocals are two completely different lines. Trying to do both at the same time is like trying to draw a circle with your left hand and a square with your right.

Saki Izumo's performance wasn't bad; she just drew a circle with her left hand that wasn't very neat.

"As for the performance... this level is sufficient."

He wanted to say something comforting, but the words just wouldn't come out.

He saw everyone's efforts, and Izumo Saki's disappointment stemmed from her dissatisfaction with her own performance.

"Please do it again," said Genji Aoyama.

After he finished speaking, the activity room fell into a long silence, and even the sound of breathing was completely absorbed by the soundproofing cotton on the walls.

Genji Aoyama took a deep breath, his tone becoming firm: "I believe in everyone."

The room fell silent again for a short while, followed by the light strumming of the guitar.

「もう我狠ばっかしてらんないよ」(I can’t stand it anymore)

「言いたいことは言わなくちゃ」(Whatever you want to say, you have to say it out loud)

"The road stops at sunset at dusk" (next to the station on my way home at dusk)

"drop in the back bye bye bye" (Say ByeByeBye to your lost back)

Genji Aoyama looked at Saki Izumo, who was gripping the neck of the violin tightly, her chin slightly raised.

In the voices, that stubborn courage of adolescence—the courage to forge ahead and get back up even after falling—seems to resurface.