Band Girls’ Mixology Mission [189]

From the moment the three began their walk through the sunshower—to Kyo quietly unraveling the tangled threads between Soyo and Sakiko under that gentle drizzle, to her forming possible solutions in her mind—only about ten seconds had passed.

She already had two.

But Kyo didn’t act right away. She just kept walking, slow and unhurried, letting the rain patter softly around them.

Because she’d already rejected both.

Take the second one, for instance—using gentle words to soothe them both, leaving things unresolved, trusting time to smooth over the cracks.

Too passive. Too empty. A hollow, stagnant peace that fixed nothing.

Forget asking Kyo to spout pleasantries—if either of them decided to just “let things slide” today, she’d turn and leave on the spot.

A misunderstanding that deep, wounds festering that long—and they still wanted to run from it?

Unacceptable. Denied. Ridiculous.

Kyo, who loved the flow of water, despised stagnation. She’d already decided, in her usual stubborn way, that a calm resolution wasn’t happening today.

Then what about the first plan—tearing everything open, laying bare their hearts, and parting ways for good?

Also rejected.

If today’s rain had been a raging storm—wind, thunder, sheets of water hammering down—then yes, she would’ve gone for that.

A massive downpour, washing away everything soft and weak. Two people yelling until even the storm swallowed their voices. A clean catharsis, not about right or wrong—just release.

Old friends turning their backs in the rain, disappearing within moments behind the endless gray curtain.

That kind of perfect, dramatic finish. Kyo would’ve given them both a standing ovation.

Unfortunately, the stagehand in charge of weather had chosen a romantic drizzle.

Such lovely rain didn’t suit shouting. It’d be like pouring Sprite into a wine glass—or drinking aged whiskey straight from the can.

Lost completely in her own brand of poetic nonsense, Kyo had irrationally decided that “rain” itself was now part of the emotional equation.

Like a student who’d solved the last exam question but suddenly decided it didn’t match the flowers outside and went looking for a prettier answer.

Utterly hopeless.

When it came to stubbornness, Kikukawa Kyo easily outclassed Togawa Sakiko. Far outclassed.

Alright, then. She refused to let Sakiko and Soyo fight it out, and she refused to let them ignore it. Since she’d already interfered this much… she might as well go all the way.

So Kyo decided—she’d handle it herself.

Meanwhile, Sakiko and Soyo, walking beside her, wore similarly tangled expressions. Each held one of Kyo’s hands, and precisely because they were both holding her hands, it felt uncomfortably intimate—like they were somehow holding each other’s instead.

Neither could resume their argument now, but simply letting it drop didn’t feel right either. They could only follow Kyo’s lead, quietly walking on.

Yet somehow, neither felt irritated anymore. Kyo had become a grounding point—steady, warm, giving them both the calm they’d lacked before.

Under that calm, even the rain began to feel soothing.

Still, both sensed the same unease: once this rain stopped, everything they’d buried in temporary peace would surface again.

Then… before it ended, maybe this was their only chance to do something.

“Kyo-chan,” Soyo said softly. The rain whispered around them, but she knew Kyo would hear—somehow, she always did when it rained.

“What is it?” For the first time, Kyo turned toward her, the ends of her twintails swaying lightly. Soyo’s gaze lingered a bit too long.

“You and Sakiko have gotten a lot closer, haven’t you?”

Sakiko raised an eyebrow but said nothing. It was true—back in CRYCHIC’s early days, Kyo had treated everyone equally, friendly but never close.

But now, that question—what are you implying, Soyo?

Even at a glance, Sakiko could sense layers beneath the words. Ignore it, and she’d look weak; challenge it, and Soyo could easily feign innocence.

Sipping tea, are we? Your revenge, huh?

“It’s true,” Kyo said simply. “Sakiko and I only grew closer after everything happened.”

So Kyo-chan was admitting it—she and Sakiko really had gotten close. Soyo’s thoughts raced, and before she could stop herself, the next words slipped out:

“Then… what about me?”

The moment she said it, regret hit her hard. She’d just confessed her own insecurity right in front of Sakiko.

“That depends on what kind of relationship you want with me.”

“Eh?”

“In your eyes, in your heart—what am I, Soyo? A friend who helps dry your hair? Or just a tool to help you reclaim the past?”

At that, Soyo felt Kyo’s grip on her hand tighten—light, but unyielding. No escape.

“Of course I—!”

“Yet you still came looking for Sakiko today,” Kyo cut in gently, but firmly. “Maybe it wasn’t only to bring her back to the band. But can you really say there wasn’t a tiny bit of wishful thinking left in you?”

The interruption stopped Soyo cold. The unease she’d felt earlier—that Kyo would see through her—had been right.

Yes, she’d come even after their talk at home. She’d clung to that small, selfish hope—and she’d lied to Kyo.

Whoo…

A faint, warm breath touched Soyo’s fingers. Kyo had raised her hand, exhaling gently onto it. The sensation sent a small jolt through her chest—shock, embarrassment, and something else she couldn’t quite name.

“Soyo, I’m sorry for cutting you off,” Kyo murmured, still holding her hand. Her pale lips hovered close—so close they almost brushed her knuckles.

“Answer me again, clearly. In your heart—what am I to you?”

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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!