Band Girls’ Mixology Mission [106]

“Kyo… will you sleep with me tonight?”

The constant hum of the hairdryer filled the spacious room, its volume just right—loud enough to drown out any hesitation in Soyo’s voice, yet still allowing Kyo to barely make out her words.

At the same time, the noise concealed the slight tremble in Soyo’s voice, hiding the fear of rejection beneath the whirring wind.

Even Kyo, with the source of the noise so close behind her, struggled to pick up on the uncertainty wavering in Soyo’s heart.

Is this really what she wanted to ask? Kyo wondered.

“…Of course.”

She answered immediately, without a moment’s hesitation.

To Kyo, this wasn’t a big deal. Sleeping beside a friend—especially another girl her age, someone she already knew well—was nothing out of the ordinary.

What mattered more was—when Soyo looked at her in this moment, was she seeing Kyo?

Or was she only looking through Kyo, toward CRYCHIC’s past?

So Kyo asked again,

“Soyo, do you like me?”

Perhaps because the hairdryer still masked their conversation, or maybe because she had already managed to ask one slightly embarrassing question, Soyo seemed to gain a bit of courage.

This time, her answer came quickly.

“I… I think I do like you, Kyo.”

Kyo strained her ears, but between the whirring wind and Soyo’s lowered voice, the words came out softer than usual, as if Soyo herself wasn’t used to expressing her feelings so directly.

But something about it felt different.

The usual deliberate tone Soyo carried in her voice—subtly calculated, carefully measured—wasn’t there.

Her voice was still gentle, but it no longer had that crisp, refined edge.

Was it simply because she was speaking in a quieter tone, making it harder to maintain that usual polished inflection?

“…‘I think’?”

“This is just… so embarrassing, Kyo. Saying something like that so openly…”

Is liking someone really such an embarrassing thing to admit?

Kyo didn’t understand.

Like. Love. Affection.

These words had always felt wrapped in fog, their true meanings just out of reach.

For a brief moment, Kyo began to question her previous assumption.

Does Soyo really see me as her little sister?

Because in Kyo’s mind, even if liking someone was difficult to say out loud, family love wasn’t something that needed to be hidden.

At home, no matter how much she bickered with her sister, when it came to expressing their bond, there was never any hesitation.

If her sister asked, Kyo could easily say “I like you” without a second thought—anytime, anywhere.

But Soyo…

If she truly struggled this much to express her feelings, Kyo supposed she could understand. People were different, after all.

So instead, she changed the question.

“Then why do you want to sleep with me, Soyo? If it’s not because you like me?”

Where Kyo couldn’t see, Soyo’s face was already flushed a deep shade of red—so vivid that even the golden hues of the evening sun streaming through the window couldn’t compete with it.

Kyo’s new question wasn’t as sharp as “Do you like me?” but it was still difficult for Soyo to answer.

Because, at its core, the meaning behind both questions was the same.

Did she really have to admit it?

Admit that she was like a child who hadn’t yet grown up, desperately craving the warmth of family—so much so that she wanted to treat Kyo as her little sister, even to the point of wanting to sleep beside her at night, prolonging that sense of companionship for as long as possible?

Soyo opened her mouth, hesitated, then settled on a vague, evasive answer:

“…Maybe it’s because you smell nice. Kind of like the incense I burn before bed.”

She had taken the deeper, more complicated emotions and replaced them with something mundane.

A subconscious act of avoidance.

“…Mmh.”

Kyo let out a soft, unreadable hum.

Soyo had no idea what she was thinking. But right now, her own thoughts were such a mess that she didn’t have the energy to try and figure Kyo out.

Lowering the setting on the hairdryer, she finally began drying Kyo’s hair properly.

Soyo was gentle and meticulous, keeping the dryer at just the right distance so the heat wouldn’t burn Kyo’s scalp, making sure not to leave it focused on one spot for too long.

The warm breeze brushed over Kyo’s damp hair, gradually drying the lingering moisture. Even someone like Kyo, who preferred to keep some water on her skin, had to admit—it felt nice.

Like a pair of invisible hands gently massaging her scalp, waves of warmth spread over her head and down her neck, sending a pleasant shiver through her body.

Kyo’s hair wasn’t particularly long, but drying it thoroughly still took some time.

As the steady hum of the hairdryer filled the room and the soothing warmth wrapped around her, Kyo felt herself drifting into drowsiness.

With one hand supporting Kyo’s hair, Soyo quickly noticed the way Kyo’s head kept subtly bobbing forward—just like a student struggling to stay awake in a math class they didn’t understand.

Soyo smiled and pulled the hairdryer slightly farther away before speaking in a soft voice.

“Kyo, you can’t fall asleep just yet. You should at least eat dinner first.”

“…I’m not sleepy.”

Kyo mumbled a half-hearted protest, quickly straightening her posture as if trying to prove her point.

But the way she forced herself to sit upright, the way her voice was still soft and drowsy—it completely gave her away.

“…Soyo, you’re really good at taking care of people.”

As if trying to stay awake, Kyo suddenly spoke, shifting the conversation herself.

“Am I?”

Soyo had heard that countless times from her classmates at Tsukinomori.

But every time someone praised her for it, she always felt an unspoken resistance deep inside her.

Because she knew—her “ability” to take care of others was nothing more than an act. A desperate effort to fit in.

She had always worried that her kindness was insincere, that it was just something she had forced herself to learn. And every time someone complimented her for it, the words only reminded her of that painful doubt.

So she always tried not to dwell on it too much.

But this time…

Hearing those words from Kyo actually made her happy.

Not just because it fulfilled her need to be relied on—

But because, in this moment, she truly felt like she wanted to take care of Kyo as if she were her little sister.

“Kyo, do you like it?”

“Mm. It’s relaxing… kinda feels like lying on a waterbed.”

“…Then…”

A dangerous thought surfaced in Soyo’s mind—one she could no longer suppress.

If she could keep having moments like this with Kyo, and revive their band at the same time…

Then wouldn’t that be the happiest possible outcome?

“Kyo, would you…”

She hesitated only for a second before continuing—

“Would you be willing to—reform the band with me—”

Before she could finish—

Soyo found herself pushed down, pinned against the couch.

The next thing she knew, Kyo was on top of her.

The girl who had been on the verge of falling asleep just moments ago had suddenly moved, reacting as if something had set her off.

With sharp precision, she caught Soyo’s wrist and shoved her down.

The hairdryer slipped from Soyo’s grasp, landing on the floor with a dull thud.

It whined pathetically, still running, but no one paid it any attention now.

One of Kyo’s hands gripped Soyo’s wrist, while the other rested beside her head, keeping herself propped up.

Kyo’s body was half-leaning over her, their positioning almost suggestive—

But Soyo was too stunned to notice the softness pressing against her.

Because Kyo, despite being the one who had physically overpowered her—

Looked strangely vulnerable.

For the first time, Soyo saw an expression on Kyo’s face that she had never imagined possible.

Even earlier that day, when Kyo’s coldness had made Soyo uneasy, she had still worn a flawless smile.

But now—

Her expression was unmistakably one of sorrow.

Kyo had always chased flow, and being trapped in the past went against everything she believed in.

But more than that—

Soyo’s attempt to use something resembling family love to persuade her into the band…

Had trampled over the only kind of affection Kyo truly understood and treasured.

“…Stop talking about this, Soyo.”

Her voice was quiet, but her words were sharp.

“It makes me sick.”

—

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!