Band Girls’ Mixology Mission [63]

“Vacations always seem to fly by so quickly.”

Today, Kikukawa Kyo had decided to stay home. She steeped freeze-dried passion fruit chunks in cold water, added some ice, and just like that, she had a simple passion fruit tea. Since it was made with only freeze-dried fruit, it wasn’t too sweet—just light and refreshing.

Of course, she could have added some honey or syrup for extra flavor, but even with its subtle fruity sweetness, it was still quite enjoyable. Unlike sparkling water, it didn’t have that sharp, exhilarating bite, but instead, it left a gentle aftertaste that slowly unfurled on the tongue.

“But I really did get a lot done this break.”

That much was obvious just from looking at the information wall in front of her. Originally, she had a single large board that kept track of everyone together, but now, a smaller whiteboard had been added alongside it.

This smaller board was specifically dedicated to a select few: the five members of CRYCHIC, Misumi Uika and Sumita Mana from sumimi, the mercenary bassist and deadpan jokester Yahata Umiri, and that video creator—Yuutenji Nyamu.

Setting aside the new additions she hadn’t interacted with much yet, the profiles of the former CRYCHIC members had been significantly expanded over the course of this break.

And now that she looked at them closely… they still had so many unresolved issues.

At a glance, it seemed like Kyo had met up with all of them at least once, but in reality, aside from Sakiko, who had stabilized for the most part, every single one of them had their own problems—some bigger than others.

Tomori’s psychological issues were severe. She desperately craved understanding but couldn’t find it, burdened by deep-seated insecurity. She blamed herself for everything, unable to relieve the pressure she put on herself. Now, she was stuck, unable to even entertain the idea of forming a new band. What she wanted was a stable, lasting connection—she didn’t want to experience the pain of losing everything again.

Taki, on the other hand, had a crippling sense of inferiority. While she was also plagued by self-doubt, it manifested differently from Tomori. Instead of shutting down, Taki turned her feelings into a relentless drive for self-improvement, constantly pushing herself to meet impossibly high standards. However, when it came to interacting with others, this intense pressure became a hindrance. Without someone like Sakiko to act as a leader or a mediator to smooth things over, Taki’s blunt way of speaking would inevitably create friction, turning what could have been a source of motivation into a burden on her relationships.

Mutsumi’s situation was more unique. Her problems were tied to Soyo, and the two had to be considered together.

From Kyo’s previous conversations with Mutsumi, it was clear that CRYCHIC’s greatest significance to her had been providing a carefree environment—one where she felt loved and accepted.

If Kyo could give her that same feeling, then Nagasaki Soyo definitely could too.

Soyo had always been the peacemaker, the one who kept the atmosphere light and warm—like a mother figure, looking after everyone. Whenever conflict arose within the band, she prioritized preventing arguments over actually resolving the issue.

And if Kyo thought back to the first time she met Soyo and Mutsumi after Sakiko’s departure—the way Mutsumi had looked at Soyo—it was far from indifferent.

At the same time, though, Mutsumi and Sakiko shared a bond that was anything but ordinary. Yet among this group of people, the biggest conflict lay precisely between Soyo and Sakiko.

It was simple, really—Sakiko couldn’t return to a “play-pretend” band. Her circumstances didn’t allow her to waste time on something unstable.

Meanwhile, Soyo was determined to bring the band back together. And to do that, she needed Sakiko. She wasn’t going to give up trying to convince her.

That would put Mutsumi in the middle.

On one hand, there was no way she would betray Sakiko. But on the other hand, Kyo highly doubted Mutsumi was equipped to handle Soyo.

As Kyo laid out each issue one by one, it was like staring at a tangled mess of threads—knots upon knots, seemingly impossible to unravel.

But when it came to tangled messes, the best solution was often a sharp blade.

A new band.

Find Tomori a new group that could provide the stability she needed.

Help Taki find a stage where she could truly shine without being weighed down by self-doubt.

Give Soyo a new home—people she could care for and who would, in turn, give her warmth.

If that happened…

Sakiko wouldn’t have to carry lingering guilt over CRYCHIC’s breakup. She’d be relieved to see her former bandmates moving forward instead of worrying about her. She might even bless their new paths and focus entirely on her own struggles.

And Mutsumi would finally be free to make her own choices—whether it was supporting Sakiko or joining Soyo in a new band, there would be no pressure forcing her into a binary decision.

But the reality was, without Sakiko, getting the remaining four back together was extremely difficult.

…Was Kyo really going to have to step in herself?

She briefly considered what would happen if she inserted herself into the equation.

But things still didn’t look promising.

She wasn’t the right person to handle Tomori. The way Tomori’s mind worked—her abstract, almost otherworldly way of thinking—was something Kyo simply couldn’t grasp. Even if Tomori tried to explain it to her directly, it would probably just come out as a confusing mess.

She’d also end up putting even more pressure on Taki. She couldn’t even play dumb or act useless to lighten the mood, because back in CRYCHIC, she hadn’t realized Taki had this issue in the first place. She’d already accidentally shown her full potential. If she tried to slack off now, Taki would call her out instantly. But if she didn’t, then Taki would be the one shutting down instead.

And even if she did somehow get Soyo to help rebuild the band, Soyo would never stop trying to get Sakiko back—because that was what CRYCHIC was supposed to be.

…Yeah, nope.

That’s why Kyo hadn’t wasted too much time on this during the second half of the break. In the end, all she could do was wait.

The new school year was about to begin. Maybe that would shake things up.

For now, though… phone time.

Kyo opened Instagram, effortlessly pulling up a few of her favorite drink-mixing accounts. Then, a thought crossed her mind—Anon hadn’t updated in a while.

Not just on Instagram. Even on LINE, she hadn’t sent any new messages.

She wasn’t sure what had happened, but random disappearances weren’t exactly uncommon online. And with school starting soon, maybe Anon had just gotten busy.

Kyo shrugged the thought off and moved on.

—

A cute girl with long, waist-length pink hair and a small fang peeking from her lips was walking alone, dragging a heavy suitcase behind her. Her expression was downcast as she made her way out of the airport.

“I ran away.”

She had escaped from a distant foreign land—London.

Chihaya Anon murmured the words to herself.

Ever since middle school, she had excelled academically, even becoming the student council president and earning admiration from her peers. Back then, driven by her vanity, she had chosen to study abroad. At the time, it had been a decision that earned her nothing but astonishment and envy from her classmates.

But reality had hit her like a brick to the face.

The unfamiliarity of a foreign land left her feeling anxious and out of place. The infamous struggles of Japanese speakers with English pronunciation only made things worse—Anon, who had always basked in praise, now found herself in a starkly different position in London.

With no close friends to confide in, an accent she couldn’t fix overnight despite her best efforts, and the cultural misunderstandings that led to isolation, all of these things piled up, straw after straw, until they finally crushed her.

“I should’ve just taken the time to properly learn how to brew tea from that ‘Rainy Lady’…” Anon muttered to herself, half-jokingly.

After all, the British really did love their tea. That was why she had reached out to that unexpectedly knowledgeable online acquaintance in the first place. She had figured that having a basic understanding would be enough—but she had only scratched the surface, which somehow left her in an even more embarrassing position than knowing nothing at all.

Too proud to admit her struggles, Anon hadn’t even told her former classmates that she was returning to Japan. Naturally, she hadn’t mentioned it to Rainy Lady either.

But it didn’t matter.

What’s done is done.

Anon took a deep breath, psyching herself up. With her abilities, she was sure she could start over.

And the first step—was getting into Haneoka.

—

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!