Band Girls’ Mixology Mission [56]

“Mm.”

Mutsumi nodded, offering nothing more in response.

As silent as ever, but there was the slightest shift in her demeanor—her head tilted downward at a slightly steeper angle than before, and her already drooping eyes trembled almost imperceptibly.

But such minute movements were difficult to interpret. Were they unconscious physical reactions, subtle hints of her inner emotions? Or merely natural fluctuations that came with steady breathing?

Kikukawa Kyo felt like she was observing Mutsumi through a microscope. It had only been a few moments, and already, she found herself blinking to refocus.

Conversations with Mutsumi could never last too long. Otherwise, Kyo would either be left completely in the dark, forced to probe blindly for meaning through mere dialogue, or her own eyes would give out from the intensity of her scrutiny.

Better to call Sakiko over first. Trying to be the main driver of the conversation while keeping up this level of observation was exhausting. If she let Sakiko handle the talking, she could quietly observe from the side—it’d be much easier that way.

“Nee-san, this is Wakaba Mutsumi, a friend from my old band. I’ll take her to see Sakiko.”

“Go ahead.”

Kyo glanced at Mutsumi again. She remained standing there, motionless, completely unfazed even as Kyo introduced her to Yuu.

“Mutsumi, come with me. I’ll take you to Sakiko.”

Leading the way, Kyo deliberately slowed her pace to match Mutsumi’s small, measured steps. After walking a few steps, she glanced back—Mutsumi was following obediently, like a little duck trailing after its mother, silent but docile.

Kyo suddenly felt a bit tempted to test something.

If I led Mutsumi around the bookstore in circles, how long would it take for her to notice? And if she did, would she show any visible reaction?

The more she thought about it, the more appealing the idea became. Maybe she really should try it?

Calculating the day of the week and recalling the usual workload, Kyo guessed that Sakiko was probably busy checking the inventory of newly arrived books. Since those books were usually stacked in a corner of the store awaiting sorting, as long as she avoided that area, she could keep wandering with Mutsumi for quite a while.

The excuse was easy enough to make—the bookstore was big enough that it wouldn’t be strange to say she didn’t know Sakiko’s exact location, and calling out her name loudly wasn’t exactly bookstore etiquette.

With the plan in mind, Kyo subtly adjusted her path, her movements natural and unnoticeable. But after just a few steps, Mutsumi abruptly stopped in her tracks.

Kyo immediately noticed and halted as well, feigning confusion.

“What’s wrong? Why did you stop?”

—

Mutsumi hadn’t expected to run into Kikukawa Kyo here.

Though, when she saw the bookstore’s name, she had briefly thought of Kyo, her former bandmate and fellow guitarist.

But Sakiko… she was breaking apart. She didn’t want to see anyone from the old band anymore.

So why—why had she chosen to work in Kyo’s family’s store?

Mutsumi looked at Kyo, and an image came to mind—like gazing into a water mirror, veiled by a thin curtain.

Her intuition had always been sharp.

She had seen everything. Sakiko’s stubbornness, her guilt over leaving the band she had built with her own hands, the pride that wouldn’t let her turn back despite it all. Soyo’s motherly warmth toward the people around her, always mediating, always keeping the band’s harmony intact—someone who made Mutsumi feel free, at ease.

And of course, Mutsumi had always been watching Kyo as well.

Kyo was the most complex of them all.

Like an ever-shifting current of water, she absorbed everything around her, only to reflect back a distorted, refracted image—shimmering illusions that blended her seamlessly into her surroundings.

It was like someone wrapping themselves head-to-toe in mirrors, becoming almost invisible—a perfect metaphor for Kikukawa Kyo.

She had always been like this, even in CRYCHIC.

Mutsumi had only ever seen the surface of Kyo’s “water,” the layer she used to conceal herself, but she had never truly seen what lay beneath.

Why did she do this?

The thought compelled her to ask, “Kyo, what are you doing here?”

The water rippled.

The reflection wavered, just slightly—but soon, it smoothed over again, restoring its seamless disguise. Kyo responded with a question of her own.

“Mutsumi, are you here to see Sakiko for something?”

Hearing Kyo’s response, Mutsumi realized she had once again spoken too bluntly. But Kyo had understood her meaning—and deliberately sidestepped the question.

Kyo always understands me.

Mutsumi knew she struggled with articulating her thoughts properly. More often than not, her words came out too direct, often upsetting people.

But Kyo never got angry.

If Sakiko had been her other half in the band—the one who understood her best, whom she trusted completely—if Soyo had given her the rare warmth of being cared for…

Then Kyo had given her something else. The ease of not having to worry about her own clumsy way of speaking.

“I’ll take you to see Sakiko.”

She followed along.

Though Mutsumi still didn’t understand why Sakiko had chosen to work here, she figured she could just ask her directly later.

Her pace was slow—but so was Kikukawa Kyo’s. That was fine. There was no need to rush.

Yet, as they walked, Mutsumi began to sense something strange. The water veil around Kyo felt heavier, denser. And… the direction Kyo was heading in seemed to be slightly off from where they had started.

Mutsumi stopped.

She trusted her intuition.

Kyo’s disguise has thickened. Does she not want me to see Sakiko?

She wasn’t sure why this would suddenly happen. The best she could do was try to reason it out—if she didn’t want someone to see Sakiko right now, what would her reason be?

Kyo seemed to notice her hesitation. Her expression remained warm and inviting, as if puzzled by Mutsumi’s abrupt stop.

But Mutsumi knew Kyo was watching her—observing, assessing. Behind the steadily expanding waves of water, a cold, searching gaze pierced through.

“What’s wrong? Why did you stop?”

The voice that emerged from beneath the water veil was as gentle as ever, carrying an almost soothing warmth, drawing people toward Kyo.

Mutsumi envied her ability to speak that way.

“I am Sakiko’s other half.”

The silhouette behind the water veil turned back to look at her. Upon hearing Mutsumi’s simple yet blunt statement, there was no visible reaction.

But the flowing water… it receded.

“I see. I understand.”

Kyo understood me again.

This time, the path was correct.

Mutsumi saw Sakiko.

And from the look on Sakiko’s face, it seemed she hadn’t expected Mutsumi to arrive so early.

“Mutsumi? You’re here already? Didn’t we agree on meeting at noon? I’m still working right now.”

“Sorry, Mutsumi. Can you find a place to sit and wait for a bit? Maybe read something? My break isn’t for another two hours.”

Sakiko seemed… more relaxed than before.

Mutsumi took in her appearance—dressed in a work uniform, no longer carrying the overwhelming burden that had once loomed over her.

Is it because of Kyo?

“Mutsumi, why don’t you wait at the café next door and get a mango juice? That’s Kyo’s shop. Kyo, can Mutsumi use my employee perk for a free drink this week?”

“Mm-hmm, no problem.”

Kyo agreed cheerfully.

As she spoke with Sakiko, Mutsumi noticed something—the water veil around her had thinned.

For the first time, Mutsumi could vaguely make out the shape of Kyo’s entire figure beneath it.

She wondered when Sakiko and Kyo had gotten this close.

By the time she realized it, she had already been led into the café next door, gently guided to a small table.

“Mutsumi, you’ll have the mango juice, right?”

Kyo smiled as she asked.

Now that they were in her own shop, she seemed much more at ease. The once-dense water veil had shifted, now forming a loose, flowing outer layer in the shape of a human silhouette. It felt like she was only just short of revealing what lay beneath it—yet, no matter how close it seemed, the last few streams of water still did their duty, carefully concealing Kyo’s true form.

Mutsumi stared at her, curiosity growing.

What exactly was the relationship between Sakiko and Kyo now?

Did Kyo become like an other half to Sakiko too?

But if that were the case… then why was she still keeping up the disguise?

Mutsumi parted her lips slightly. If it was Kyo, asking directly shouldn’t be a problem, right?

“Kyo, why do you hide yourself?”

“……”

Ah. It broke.

The water veil, which had been flowing steadily, suddenly trembled—boiling, surging.

Then, it stilled.

And then, it shattered.

The once-fluid surface froze, splintering into fragments before peeling away.

Revealing Kyo’s face.

Her pearl-gray hair, neatly pinned up. The crisp vest, tailored shirt, and precisely knotted tie.

And that beautiful smile—frozen in place, slightly stiff.

And beneath it all, her deep, sea-blue eyes, swirling with something far more turbulent than any water veil.

…This time, I think I said the wrong thing again.

—

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!