Green plums cannot become lovers.

There were no pronouncements about "changing the world," no declarations of "becoming a legend," and no grand, empty pronouncements. Only the most practical, even somewhat mundane, wishes—to make loved ones happy and to earn lots of money.

"Such a simple dream," she couldn't help but say, her tone devoid of sarcasm, simply pure surprise.

Anhe Asuka smiled, a smile that held a profound understanding of the world: "What's wrong with simplicity? Dreams don't need to be extravagant. As long as they can be realized, as long as they are worth the effort, they are good dreams."

He spoke so matter-of-factly that Eriri was momentarily at a loss for words. She thought for a moment, then asked:

"Then how did you sign with rouge en rouge? Ms. Kurosaka... isn't someone just anyone can get close to."

She had been pondering this question for a long time. Ever since she saw him and Akane Akasaka appear side by side at the banquet that night, she had always wanted to know—how exactly did this boy from a small town get to where he was?

Upon hearing this, An and Asuka revealed a somewhat mysterious smile.

"Well..." he drawled, deliberately keeping her in suspense, "it's a secret."

"Huh?!" Eriri immediately puffed out her cheeks in dissatisfaction, her bright blue eyes widening. "You stingy girl! Just say it!"

She even leaned forward unconsciously, her tone carrying a coquettish quality she herself wasn't aware of—a look she only revealed when she was most relaxed.

An and Asuka watched her childish reaction, a hint of amusement flashing in their eyes. He feigned helplessness and shrugged.

"If I had to say... it's probably because Sister Zhu Yin recognized my talent."

"Akane-nee?" Eriri repeated the name, then suddenly realized something, her eyes widening slowly. "It wouldn't be... Akane Kousaka, would it?"

Although she already knew about his relationship with Akane Akasaka that night at the banquet, hearing him address the industry's famously powerful producer as "Akane-nee" in such an intimate and natural tone still shocked her quite a bit.

“Yes.” An and Asuka said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Eriri was completely speechless.

Akane Kousaka, a genius producer known for her sharp eye and ruthless methods. A figure in the industry nicknamed "Queen," revered and admired by countless newcomers.

And this boy, this boy from a small town in Aichi Prefecture, wearing an ordinary school uniform, who would make barley tea in the activity room and patiently teach her the basics of programming, so naturally called her "Akane-nee".

This relationship is... ridiculously good.

An outrageous conjecture that she had once forcibly suppressed resurfaced uncontrollably in her mind, clearer and stronger than ever before.

She stared at An and Asuka, her gaze carefully scanning his face, trying to find more evidence. His features were delicate, his demeanor composed yet occasionally revealing a warm smile, and his eyes were always as calm as a deep pool.

And then there's his music, those tracks she'd listened to on repeat countless times on Bicobico. The vibrant sunshine in "Summer," the lonely yet tender hope in "Hotaru no Hikari," the complex and profound emotions in "Ame."

If he is indeed the "bird," then everything makes sense.

Why does Akane Kousaka value him so much? Why is he able to write such music? Why does he always possess an insight beyond his years when discussing creative processes?

But what if he isn't?

Eriri's heart pounded. She opened her mouth, wanting to ask, "Are you Asuka?", but swallowed the words back. She was afraid to hear the answer—whether yes or no.

If he says yes, it means her favorite musician is right in front of her, and that the melodies that have comforted her on countless nights came from the hands of this boy who would argue with her about character hairstyles, patiently teach her programming basics, and smile as he described the four seasons of his hometown.

That's...unbelievable.

If he says no, she will be disappointed again. Not disappointed that he isn't the "flying bird," but disappointed that... she doesn't know what she's disappointed about.

An and Asuka seemed to sense her complex emotions. He watched her quietly, without asking questions or explaining, simply waiting patiently, like a deep sea that could hold all the waves.

After a long silence, Eriri finally spoke, her voice a little dry:

Will you... come to the activity room again tomorrow?

She regretted asking the question as soon as she asked it—it was such a stupid question, of course he would come.

But An and Asuka didn't laugh at her. He simply nodded, his tone gentle and firm:

"Yes, I'm going to discuss the script with Kasumigaoka-senpai during lunch break tomorrow, but I should be able to come over after school. What about you?"

"I... I'll come too," Eriri said softly, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her skirt. "I still have some scene drawings to do."

"Okay." Anhe Feibiao smiled and stood up. "Shall we call it a day? It's getting dark, would you like me to take you home?"

Eriri paused for a moment, then said, "No need, I'll go back myself..."

"Then I'll walk you to the school gate," An and Asuka said with a smile. "Shall we walk together?"

His concern was understated and unintentional, yet it gently stirred Eriri's heart.

“…Hmm.” She lowered her head and began to pack up her art supplies, using this as an excuse to hide her suddenly flushed cheeks.

The two packed their things, turned off the air conditioner and lights, and locked the activity room door. The corridor was empty; the motion-activated lights turned on one by one in sync with their footsteps, then turned off after a short distance.

Outside the window, although the night in Tokyo had not yet fully fallen, the lights of thousands of homes already resembled a galaxy on the ground.

They walked down the stairs side by side, their footsteps echoing in the quiet stairwell. Neither of them spoke, but the atmosphere wasn't awkward; instead, there was a strange tranquility and harmony.

When Eriri reached the lobby on the first floor, she suddenly stopped.

"Anhe," she called softly to him.

"Hmm?" An and Asuka turned around.

Twilight streamed through the glass doors of the hall, casting diamond-shaped patches of light on the floor. Eriri stood at the boundary between light and darkness, her long golden hair shimmering softly in the moonlight, her azure eyes like jewels bathed in clear water.

“Thank you…” she paused, her voice even softer, “tell me about your hometown.”

An and Asuka looked at her, a hint of surprise flashing in their eyes, which then turned into a gentle smile.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “If you want to know anything else, feel free to ask.”

Eriri nodded, then, as if making a decision, strode towards the glass door. As she pushed it open, a warm summer night breeze rushed in, carrying the city's characteristic heatwave.

A black sedan was already waiting outside the school gate. Eriri walked to the car and suddenly turned around.

An and Asuka were still standing inside the school gate, waving to her.

The twilight bathed him, casting a deep red glow on his silhouette. He stood there, tall and straight, with a gentle smile, like a beautiful phantom on a quiet summer night.

Eriri's heart skipped a beat.

She hurriedly got into the car and closed the door. The car slowly started moving, disappearing into the busy traffic of Tokyo. Through the car window, she looked back—the boy's figure grew smaller and smaller at the school gate, finally disappearing into the night.

But she knew that after school tomorrow, he would still be in that activity room bathed in the sunset, focused on typing code or debugging a melody on his computer screen.

And she would go too, bringing her drawing tablet and sketchbook, sitting opposite him, drawing the starry sky, the observatory, and the boys and girls gazing at the stars.

This realization filled her with a strange warmth, like holding a cup of hot tea on a winter night, warming her from her fingertips all the way to her heart.

She leaned back in the soft leather seat of the back seat and closed her eyes.

In my mind, those images resurfaced—the river surface covered with cherry blossoms in spring, the rice paddies rippling with green waves in summer, the golden ears of rice in autumn, and the snow-white fields in winter.

And the boy who grew up in such scenery, calmly describing everything, with a gentle and nostalgic light in his eyes.

Suddenly, a thought became clear:

She no longer cared whether he was a "flying bird" or not.

I don't care who that musician with two million followers on Bicobico is.

What she cares about is this boy who patiently teaches her programming, argues with her about character design, and smiles as he describes the four seasons of his hometown.

This is enough.

The car drove smoothly through the Tokyo night, the city lights outside the window shimmering. Eriri opened her eyes and looked at the huge city where she had grown up. For the first time, she felt that it wasn't so unfamiliar and alienating after all.

Because somewhere in this city, there was an activity room, and someone there who made her feel...

Very reassuring.

She gently exhaled, a small, genuine smile unconsciously curving her lips.

See you again tomorrow.

Volume 1: Chapter 175 The Secret in a Young Girl's Heart

The afternoon sun was blazing at three o'clock, casting bright dappled patterns on the floor through the windows of the laboratory building corridor. When Anhe and Feiniao pushed open the door to the activity room, the cool air from the air conditioner rushed in, dispelling the summer heat from outside.

Then he saw that unexpected figure.

Kasumigaoka Utaha was sitting by the window, with her laptop and several thick documents spread out in front of her. Today she was wearing her summer school uniform, her legs crossed under her dark blue pleated skirt, and her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders like a waterfall, the ends of which shimmered with a dark blue luster in the afternoon sunlight.

She lowered her head slightly, her fingers rapidly tapping on the keyboard, her profile appearing focused and graceful in the light and shadow.

Hearing the door open, she looked up. Her wine-red eyes softened with a gentle smile when she saw An and Asuka.

"Senior?" An and Asuka walked in, somewhat surprised, and closed the door. "Didn't you say that Volume 3 was in the final stages of compilation and that you'd be busier than usual?"

He remembered that just two days ago, Kasumigaoka Utaha had mentioned in an email that the editor was pressing for her manuscript and that she might not be able to come to the activity room for the next few days.

Less than forty-eight hours later, she was already sitting here.

Is the third volume already finished?

"Junior, come here quickly." Kasumigaoka Utaha didn't answer directly, but smiled and waved to him, then gently patted the seat next to her, the seat that An and Asuka usually sat in.

Her tone was natural and intimate, carrying an irresistible tenderness.

An and Asuka put down their schoolbags and walked over. From the window, they could see the small garden behind the laboratory building. The hydrangeas were in full bloom at the end of June, with clusters of heavy blue-purple flowers swaying gently in the afternoon breeze.

He sat down next to her, and was about to ask about the progress of the manuscript when he suddenly felt a light weight on his shoulder.

His body stiffened slightly, then relaxed, and he turned his head to look—

Kasumigaoka Utaha gently rested her head on his shoulder. Her long, black hair cascaded down like silk, a few strands brushing against his neck, carrying a faint, lily-like shampoo scent. Her eyes were half-closed, her long, thick eyelashes casting fan-shaped shadows beneath them. Her breathing was steady and gentle, and her whole being exuded a softness that came from letting her guard down.

"Senior?" Anhe Asuka called softly.

"Hmm? What's wrong, junior?" Kasumigaoka Utaha didn't look up, but responded in a low voice, with a hint of hoarseness, as if she hadn't spoken properly in a long time.

An and Asuka could hear the weariness that she couldn't hide in her tone and immediately realized what was going on.

He lowered his voice: "Senior, have you been working too hard these past two days...? Is time really that tight?"

Kasumigaoka Utaha leaned on his shoulder and gently shook her head, her hair brushing against his shirt with a soft rustling sound.

"It's alright," she said softly, as if talking in her sleep, "Actually, we still have a little extra time."

"Is there still extra time?" An and Asuka asked, puzzled. If there's still time, why push yourself so hard?

“Yes, that’s right.” Kasumigaoka Utaha said, yawning slightly with a cat-like laziness. “Because I wanted to help as soon as possible, I worked a little harder and finished the work ahead of schedule.”

She paused, a hint of teasing in her voice: "So, junior, are you feeling a little guilty?"

An and Asuka were taken aback.

He looked down at the girl leaning on his shoulder. Her profile appeared exceptionally fair in the sunlight, revealing even the faint blue veins beneath her skin. The shadows under her eyes were deeper than usual, clearly the result of staying up all night. In order to get to the activity room to help out as early as possible, she had compressed a task that should have taken much longer, leaving her so exhausted that she needed to rest on his shoulder.

A complex mix of emotions welled up inside me, a mixture of gratitude and heartache.

"Yes." He suppressed his emotions and smiled gently, "I don't know how to repay my senior."

"I don't need any repayment." Kasumigaoka Utaha closed her eyes, her voice even softer, as if she might fall asleep at any moment. "Just lend me your shoulder to rest on."

Besides, she was simply repaying the boy for his help. If he hadn't intervened, quietly accompanying her during the quiet autograph session and recommending her work on Bicobico, perhaps "Love Metronome" would have been canceled long ago, and she wouldn't be able to focus on creating the stories she loves like she does now.

Some favors don't need to be spoken, but they will be remembered and repaid with actions.

"Then you should rest well, senior," Anhe Asuka said softly, relaxing her shoulder muscles so the girl could lean back more comfortably.

He reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the movement as natural as if he'd done it a thousand times. Kasumigaoka Utaha didn't move, only a barely perceptible smile curved her lips.

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, bathing the two in a warm glow. The air conditioner hummed softly, and the faint sound of a whistle from a physical education class on the playground drifted from afar. But in this small activity room, time seemed to slow down, and everything became tranquil and gentle.

Anwa Asuka didn't move, just sat quietly, letting Kasumigaoka Utaha lean against him to rest. His gaze fell on the hydrangeas in full bloom outside the window, but his thoughts drifted far away.

From that day on, going to the activity room after school became the most anticipated part of Eriri Sawamura's high school life.

This sense of anticipation was strange, like a quietly growing vine that unknowingly climbed all over the walls of her heart. She loved listening to An and Feibiao tell stories about his past, about the scenery of that faraway little town in all four seasons.

Although the boy always said his hometown was "very ordinary," his descriptions were so vivid and beautiful—the cherry blossom river in spring, the waves of rice paddies in summer, the golden ears of rice in autumn, and the snow-white fields in winter.

Those images took root in her mind, making this young lady who grew up in Tokyo yearn for a small town she had never been to.

More often than not, they simply worked quietly on their own. She drew on the digital screen, while he typed code or tuned music on his computer. The only sounds in the activity room were the scratching of pencils across the digital screen, the soft tapping of keyboards, and the low hum of the air conditioner.

Occasionally there would be a brief exchange of one or two sentences—

"Is this lighting and shadow arrangement okay?" "Won't this melody be too depressing for this scene?"

Most of the time, it was just the two of them in the activity room. But Eriri didn't feel bored at all; instead, she felt a strange sense of satisfaction. This atmosphere of focused creation, with someone to accompany her but without disturbing each other, made her feel more at ease than ever before.

She even secretly thought that if the club remained like this, with only the two of them, it might not be so bad.

When the idea first popped into her head, she was startled, but she quickly realized it was a no-brainer—after all, Kasumigaoka Utaha had already provided the script outline, An and Asuka could handle the music, she had the art, and as for the programming... although it was difficult, An and Asuka seemed to be learning it very quickly.

It seems like two people can actually make a game.