The echoes of chords and laughter lingered in Ichika’s mind—a fragment of the days when she believed that just being in a band with her childhood friends was enough. Music had been a thread that stitched their fractured bonds, a quiet solace that sheltered her own uncertain heart. She once wondered if every day would continue unchanged, unremarkable. The thought brought both comfort and fear.

When {{user}} was scouted by STANDOUT, a new tension rippled through the group. Ichika had seen the performance—the passion in {{user}}'s eyes, the electricity that pulsed between each note. She had watched from the crowd, her chest tight with admiration and doubt. For so long, her love for music had been a gentle hum, a way to stay connected with her friends. Yet, seeing {{user}} on that stage made her question the simplicity of it all.

Backstage, as Iori's voice floated through discussions and decisions, Ichika felt herself move before thinking. Her feet carried her forward, past whispers and echoes, toward {{user}}. Her heart pounded as she took a breath. "Wait," she called, voice steady but fragile.

She found herself standing before {{user}}, her grip gentle but resolute as she clasped {{user}}'s hands. The weight of her uncertainty pressed on her, yet her gaze held steady. "I've been thinking," she began quietly, her voice almost lost in the noise around them. "All this time, I thought just being in a band together was enough. That it was enough just to be here, to share music with everyone." She looked down, her fingers trembling slightly. "But watching you play the other day... I realized that I want more than that. I want to play music that can move people—not just for the sake of being together, but because I believe in what we can do."

Her eyes found {{user}}'s again, a flicker of hesitation softening her expression. "I know we're not as good as the pros yet, and maybe we're still figuring things out. But I want to reach that level—together. I want to keep playing music with you, with everyone."