Green plums cannot become lovers.

For the next hour, they discussed work as usual.

The release plan for "Ember Knight," the track list for the new album, performance invitations to the summer music festival, interview requests from several media outlets... one issue after another was raised, discussed, and decided. Akane Kousaka remained the shrewd and capable president, and Asuka An remained the clear-thinking and decisive producer.

But something changed silently.

As An and Asuka got up to leave, Akane Kousaka suddenly called out to them.

"Birds".

An and Asuka turned around.

Akane Akasaka stood by the window, sunlight forming a halo around her. Her expression was calm, but there was an indescribable tenderness in her eyes.

“Remember,” she said, her voice soft but each word clear and strong, “no matter what happens, Rouge En Rouge will always be your support, and I will always be your support.”

She paused, then added, "Not as the president, but as... Sister Zhu Yin."

An and Asuka looked at her for a long time.

Then, he nodded, a sincere smile appearing on his lips: "Yes. Thank you, Sister Zhu Yin."

He pushed open the door and walked out of the president's office.

The door closed gently behind me with a soft "click".

The corridors were still bustling with activity; employees hurried past carrying documents, phones rang incessantly, and the sounds of discussions in the meeting rooms drifted through the cracks in the doors. Everything was just as it had been when they arrived; this commercial building was always in operation, always moving forward.

But An and Asuka's steps were much lighter than when they arrived.

He walked down the corridor, entered the elevator, and pressed the button for the first floor. The elevator slowly descended, and his face was reflected in the mirrored wall—on that face, something was quietly melting.

The elevator doors opened, and he stepped out of the building.

The April sun was warm and bright, shining on the bustling streets of Shibuya. The tender leaves of the roadside trees swayed gently in the breeze, casting dappled shadows. Pedestrians came and went, their expressions hurried, each living their own story.

An and Asuka stood at the entrance of the building and took a deep breath.

The air smelled of car exhaust, the aroma of food wafting from roadside restaurants, and the fresh scent of spring, a blend of earth and flower buds.

He took out his phone and saw three unread messages—

Marina sent me a photo of her newly completed manga draft, which showed a boy holding a guitar against a backdrop of a dazzling starry sky.

Shizuka posted a message: "I made a bento box for lunch and put it in the refrigerator. Remember to heat it up before eating."

Xiao Ai then sent a voice message, which revealed her clear voice: "Feiniao Feiniao! My recording went exceptionally well today! The producer praised my tremendous improvement! I'm going to celebrate with curry tonight!"

As An and Asuka looked at these messages, the corners of their mouths unconsciously turned up.

He looked up at the azure sky. Several planes streaked across the horizon, leaving white contrails that shimmered in the sunlight, like love letters from the sky to the earth.

Then, he took a step and joined the crowd.

His steps were firm and composed, his back straight, but no longer as tense as before.

Volume 1: Chapter 200 Thank you

An and Asuka stayed home alone all day.

The apartment was quiet, with only the crisp sound of keyboard typing echoing in the living room. Sunlight streamed in through the French windows of the balcony, spreading warm patches of light across the floor. These patches of light moved slowly over time, creeping from the coffee table to the foot of the sofa, then gradually dimming and elongating before finally disappearing into the corner of the wall.

In a quiet home, you can hear the faint hum of the refrigerator compressor starting up, the occasional sound of a tram passing by in the distance outside the window, and the rhythm of your own breathing and heartbeat.

This quietness made him feel as if he had returned to those days in Aichi Prefecture.

After school, I would return to my empty home alone, heat up my lunchbox, do my homework, and do everything by myself. The silence then was heavy, like a thick quilt pressing on my chest, making even breathing require extra effort.

But today is different.

The quiet today is light and warm. Because he knows that this quiet is only temporary. In a few hours, the sound of a key turning in the lock will come from the entrance, followed by the clear calls of girls, "I'm home!"

Marina would take off her shoes while yelling, "I'm starving! I'm starving!" Ai would skip over and ask him what he had done that day, while Shizuka would gently ask, "What do you want for dinner?"

This is his own lively quiet.

An and Asuka stretched and typed the last line of code on the keyboard. On the screen, a green checkmark appeared in the final debug interface of Ember Knight, with the message "All tests passed, no errors" displayed next to it.

finished.

This roguelike game, which was conceived during the winter break and developed over four months, has finally come to an end at this moment.

He leaned back in his chair and exhaled a long breath. The breath condensed into a white mist in the afternoon sunlight, then slowly dissipated. A strange sense of fullness welled up in his chest—not excitement, not ecstasy, but a calm, profound satisfaction.

Just like a farmer watching the crops he planted, watered, and cared for finally ripen, just like a craftsman finishing his last piece, just like a writer writing the final period to a story.

"Thank you for your hard work, Mei," Anwa Asuka said softly.

There was no response from the air, but he could feel it—the presence that had been with him for so long was now sharing in the joy of this accomplishment.

The system was exceptionally efficient today. From the moment he started the final stage of debugging this morning, no matter how tricky the technical questions he asked—regarding code optimization, art resource loading, combat stat balancing—Xiao Mei could always provide clear and accurate answers instantly, and would even proactively point out some details he hadn't thought of.

This efficiency was so high that An and Asuka couldn't help but wonder if this guy was usually slacking off, only working seriously at crucial moments?

However, he only thought about it and didn't actually pursue it. In his heart, Xiaomei was no longer a cold "system," but a partner fighting side by side, a silent but reliable friend. There was an unspoken understanding between them: he was responsible for creation, and Xiaomei was responsible for solving the technical problems; he provided direction and inspiration, and Xiaomei provided the possibility of realization.

This relationship is stronger than any contract.

An and Asuka stood up and walked to the window.

The afternoon sun, already setting at four o'clock, painted the Tokyo sky a gentle orange-red. Distant clouds, edged with gold, drifted slowly across the darkening canvas. Traffic continued on the streets, pedestrians hurried by; this city never truly quiets down.

He checked the time, then looked at the empty apartment.

I suddenly feel like going out for a walk.

Without any purpose or plan, he simply wanted to take advantage of the downtime after completing his important work to explore the city where he had lived for over a year.

So An and Asuka changed into a light gray hooded sweatshirt and dark trousers, put their phones and keys in their pockets, and went out.

The streets at four in the afternoon are at one of the most vibrant times of the day. Office workers haven't completely finished their shifts, students have already left school, housewives have finished their day's work, and the elderly come out for a stroll. The streets are teeming with people, a mix of languages ​​and skin colors, creating a lively and bustling urban scene.

He wandered aimlessly.

Walking through the streets, watching thousands of people surge across the intersection from all directions, like some kind of orderly migration; stepping into a clothing store in an alley, seeing those vintage clothes carefully displayed under warm yellow lights; passing by a bakery filled with fragrant aromas, the freshly baked croissants emitting an enticing buttery scent; buying a can of hot coffee from a vending machine on the street corner, the warm aluminum can in my hand dispelling the slight chill of the spring evening.

He just walked, looked, and felt.

Feel the pulse of this city, feel the raw yet authentic texture of life itself. Those heavy past events, those reunions of yesterday, those complex emotions, all seem to be diluted and soothed in this vast urban landscape.

By the time he came to his senses, it was already completely dark.

As dusk settles, Tokyo's night officially begins. Skyscrapers illuminate the city with dazzling lights, billboards flash and change, and car headlights converge into flowing rivers of light. The entire city is like a giant beast awakened, opening countless glowing eyes, breathing and pulsating in the night.

Anhe and the bird stopped and looked around.

He found himself standing on an unfamiliar street. The shops on both sides were mostly niche designer brands and elegant cafes. There weren't many pedestrians, and the atmosphere was quiet and refined. In the distance, he could see the dark silhouettes of Yoyogi Park, and further away, the red silhouette of Tokyo Tower stood silently against the night sky.

This is where?

He took out his phone, ready to open the map navigation, but when he looked up, he froze.

Two familiar figures stood under a streetlamp not far away.

Kasumigaoka Utaha was wearing a long, dark blue trench coat, her long hair swaying gently in the night breeze, and carrying a paper bag with the bookstore's logo. Eriri, on the other hand, wore a beige knitted cardigan with a plaid skirt, her golden twin tails gleaming softly under the lights, and she carried her signature painting tube on her back.

The two seemed to be arguing about something. Eriri was gesturing angrily, while Kasumigaoka Utaha listened calmly, occasionally replying, which always made Eriri jump up and down in anger.

The scene was so familiar that An and Asuka almost thought it was some kind of hallucination.

He blinked; the two figures were still there.

“Kasumigaoka-senpai, Eriri,” he walked over, his voice clearly showing surprise, “what are you doing here?”

The two turned their heads at the same time.

Eriri's eyes widened instantly, a hint of panic flashing across her face, but she quickly masked it with her usual tsundere expression: "W-Why can't we be here? Do you own this street?"

Kasumigaoka Utaha, on the other hand, was much calmer. A hint of a smile flashed in her wine-red eyes behind her glasses: "If I said it was a chance encounter, would you believe me, junior?"

“Yes, we will.” An and Asuka nodded seriously. “Tokyo is so big, the probability of bumping into each other is small, but it’s not zero.”

That's exactly what he thought. To encounter these two young women on a completely unfamiliar street—what other explanation could there be but a chance meeting?

Kasumigaoka Utaha smiled, a smile with a gentle "I can't do anything with you" quality: "Just kidding. We came here specifically to find you."

"Looking for me?" An and Asuka were taken aback.

"I'm afraid you might do something rash on your own," Eriri said quickly, but her voice trailed off. "You haven't come to school all day, and you didn't even ask for leave... Marina and the others said you weren't acting right today..."

She became less and less confident as she spoke, and finally turned her face away, but the tips of her ears turned red.

Kasumigaoka Utaha picked up the conversation, her voice calm but concerned: "We're very worried about our junior."

"Who, who's worried about him!" Eriri immediately retorted, but her rebuttal was utterly unconvincing.

An and Asuka looked at them, at these two girls who were clearly worried but were hiding it in their own ways, and a warm feeling welled up in their hearts.

"Do I look that fragile?" he asked with a smile.

"Aren't you lost right now, junior?" Kasumigaoka Utaha pointed out mercilessly, her tone teasing. "You've been in Tokyo for over a year now, and you still can't find your way around?"

"..." An and Asuka were speechless.

Indeed, he was lost. Even after living in this city for over a year, he would still occasionally wander into completely unfamiliar places and need to use his phone's map to find his way home.

This slight "incompetence" actually made him seem more real, more like a sixteen-year-old boy, rather than the dazzling "Flying Bird" on stage, the producer who developed the game on his own, or the "mature" person who calmly faced his mother who abandoned him.

“Junior,” Kasumigaoka Utaha said softly, handing over a warm paper bag, “keep walking with us. We just passed a dessert shop, and I heard their Mont Blanc is pretty good.”

An and Asuka took the paper bag, inside which was a delicate chestnut cake, emitting a faint sweet aroma.

"Okay." He nodded.

The three walked side by side down the street at night.

The lamplight cast their shadows on the ground, sometimes long, sometimes short, sometimes intertwined. The evening breeze was cool, but the sweet aroma of the cake and their company softened the chill.

“Oh, right,” An and Asuka suddenly remembered something, “how did Senpai and Eriri know I was here?”

Kasumigaoka Utaha and Eriri exchanged a glance.

“Shizuka and the others told me,” Kasumigaoka Utaha confessed. “They contacted me in the afternoon and said you went out alone.”

"Them?" An and Asuka were taken aback for a moment, then understood.

Those three guys... they must have installed a tracking device on his phone, or used some other method. But he wasn't angry at all; instead, he felt a gentle touch on the softest part of his heart.

“They care about you a lot,” Eriri whispered, this time without being haughty. “You’re not allowed to be angry with them.”

“I won’t be angry with them,” An and Asuka said softly, their voices clear in the night breeze, “because they are my family.”

"Family..."

The two girls murmured the same word at the same time, their eyes looking somewhat dazed.

Yes, family. It's not about blood ties, nor is it defined by law. It's about the emotions that accumulate little by little over a long period of time, the hands extended to each other in our most vulnerable moments, and the warmth shared on cold nights.

That bond is stronger than any other relationship.

Kasumigaoka Utaha and Eriri exchanged a glance, both seeing the same sense of relief in each other's eyes. There were some things they could never possess, nor could they replace. But that didn't matter. Because they had their place, their unique connection with this boy.

That's enough. |iuI摇尔把司思捌

The three continued walking, chatting about trivial things: funny stories from school, new comics, movies they'd recently watched, and their experiences at the music festival. Their conversation was relaxed and natural, flowing like a gentle stream, washing away the heaviness of the previous night and bringing them closer together.

As I turned a street corner, a rough guitar sound drifted over.

The sound was intermittent, the chord changes were clumsy, and the rhythm was sometimes fast and sometimes slow. It was a classic folk song, but it was played in a fragmented way, and the original melody was almost indistinguishable.

The three looked in the direction of the sound and saw a girl in a high school uniform sitting on a bench by the street, holding a slightly worn wooden guitar and practicing intently with her head down. Her fingertips were not quite right when pressing the strings, and they were already slightly red, indicating that she had been practicing for some time.

The streetlights cast a soft glow on her, bathing her slightly disheveled short hair in a gentle light. Occasionally, passersby would cast curious glances, but they would quickly look away; such scenes are not uncommon on the streets of Tokyo.

The girl finished playing a section, paused to look at the sheet music, frowned, and started again. This time, she got stuck at the same chord progression, trying several times without success, and a clear look of frustration appeared on her face.

An and the flying bird stopped and watched quietly.

He recalled how he was when he first started learning guitar a long time ago. He was just as clumsy and struggled just as much, his fingers blistered from the strings, breaking and healing repeatedly until thin calluses formed. Back then, no one taught him; he could only rely on old textbooks and blurry online instructional videos, figuring things out little by little.

He understood all too well the loneliness of facing an unfamiliar territory alone.

"Wait for me," he said to the two girls beside him, then walked toward the girl.

Kasumigaoka Utaha and Eriri exchanged a glance and quietly followed.

"Excuse me," An and Asuka walked to the bench, their voices gentle, "Could I borrow your guitar for a moment? I'd like to try out some fingering techniques."

The girl looked up, revealing a pretty but tired face. She glanced at An and Asuka, then at the two beautiful upperclassmen behind him, somewhat confused, but still nodded and carefully handed over the guitar.