Mi Sol Do.

If you’re wondering why I suddenly thought of a solfège, it perfectly captured the mood of the situation I was in—a sound effect fitting for a moment like this. Like the one in Dark Gourmet when the protagonist’s stomach growls from hunger.

At least in that story, the protagonist actively takes charge. Meanwhile, I was just sitting here, blankly staring at the unfolding scene before me.

“Haha! All set! Got the water too, so we’re good to go!”

Chiyo said as she cheerfully plopped down next to me and began fiddling with the remote.

The setup allowed for a space between us, but she chose to sit right beside me. Why?!

As I internally grumbled, she noticed my expression and gave me a teasing grin.

“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed to be here alone with a girl?”

“W-What?! No, it’s not like that!”

Her words weren’t entirely wrong, but I denied it outright.

Karaoke was a place I always came to alone. Listening to anime themes or pop songs often sparked a desire to sing, and I ended up practicing here. It wasn’t unusual for me to spend an hour singing by myself before leaving.

In the beginning, my poor vocal technique even caused vocal cord nodules—it was a disaster.

“…I’m just not used to coming here with someone else.”

“Whoa.”

Chiyo looked at me in disbelief.

“Wait, I’ve never gone to karaoke with you while we were in school?”

“Yeah, I think so. I only remember going alone.”

“Geez, why didn’t you say something? Why suffer in solitude like that?”

She said this while casually leaning her shoulder against mine. Okay, I appreciated her concern, but why was she getting so close?!

“Do you still go often?”

“Uh, yeah. Pretty often.”

“Then you better text me every time! If you don’t, I’ll sulk.”

She grinned brightly as she manipulated the remote, and I stared at her blankly.

What was this?

I was struck by a mix of disbelief and an overwhelming feeling I couldn’t put into words.

While everyone else avoided me, why was Chiyo so desperate to stick around? I couldn’t understand. All I could do was quietly watch her.

“Alright! I’ll sing this one. Oppa, do you kn—wait, what?! Why are you crying?”

Chiyo froze in shock and hurried to check on me.

Haha.

Sometimes she was so over-the-top, but in moments like these, she’d completely lose her composure.

I wiped the tears from my eyes with my fingertips and smiled.

“Ah, it’s just… the song you picked is really touching.”

“What the heck? You’re crying over something like that? Geez, you scared me.”

The song had already started, its gentle melody filling the room. Chiyo closed her eyes and let herself sink into the mood.

She sang one verse, then another. Her voice flowed seamlessly, reaching the chorus with ease. As she reached the song's climax, she seemed to channel all her emotions into the performance.

When was the last time I saw someone sing like this? Probably back in elementary school, when I used to strum the guitar with my only close friend at the time. That was ages ago.

The song ended, and Chiyo slowly opened her eyes, wearing a sly smile with a hint of allure.

“So, what do you think? Did you fall for me?”

It seemed like she was joking again, but I was still so caught up in the performance that I blurted out what was on my mind without thinking.

“…Yeah, almost.”

“H-Huh?”

I didn’t realize what I’d said until I saw her reaction. It took me a moment to piece it together, and when I did, I froze.

“A-Ah, no! That’s not what I meant. I almost fell for the song! See, this is why you can’t leave out the subject of a sentence!”

“...Oh, okay.”

I tried to backpedal frantically, but Chiyo just scratched her cheek, her face tinged with red.

Great. Nice going, me.

As I floundered, Chiyo hurriedly grabbed the remote and shoved it into my hands.

“W-Well! Go on and sing something! Time’s ticking!”

“O-Okay!”

I took the remote and scrolled through the song list. Hmm. What should I sing?

To be honest, most typical male songs were out of my vocal range. Thanks to recent practice, I could hit the mythical "2nd octave La" that many guys struggled with, but sustaining it was tough. And in front of someone else, I was too nervous to even try.

In that case… this should do.

I confidently entered the name Lim Dong-Yeol into the artist search. A singer known for his deep, resonant voice.

“Oh, you’re singing that? It suits you, oppa, with your low voice.”

I scratched my head at her comment but focused on the song’s emotions.

This particular piece required precise control, as it didn’t rely on belting high notes. While challenging, its lower register made it perfect for a situation like this.

I gripped the microphone and took a deep breath, silently praying that my vocal cords wouldn’t betray me. Slowly, I began to sing.

…

I couldn’t tell how Chiyo was looking at me, because as soon as I started, the world around me seemed to vanish.

They call it solitude in the crowd.

That phrase perfectly captured what I was feeling.

At first, my breathing was unsteady, but as I reached the chorus, my confidence grew. My voice began to flow more naturally, producing the tone I’d been striving for.

I couldn’t objectively judge my own voice, but I’d practiced enough to believe it wasn’t something to be embarrassed about anymore.

“Now, the climax!”

I reached the highlight of the song, and a surge of adrenaline pushed me to sing with more strength and precision than ever before. My voice resonated more deeply and warmly than usual.

The song neared its end. The final high notes, repeated twice, posed a challenge—but I thought I could manage.

“Nothing could…!”

…Ah.

I’d gotten too carried away.

In my excitement, I lost control of my breath and strained my vocal cords, resulting in a sharp, cringe-worthy crack.

My face burned with embarrassment.

Ugh. Why couldn’t I even do this perfectly? Maybe I should’ve picked something more upbeat instead of an emotional ballad.

Even as regret washed over me, I pushed through to finish the song. When it ended, a faint sense of melancholy lingered.

I glanced awkwardly at Chiyo, worried she might’ve been bothered by the mistake.

“Haha, sorry. I aimed too high with that one…”

But before I could finish my excuse, I noticed her staring at me, stunned.

That expression—deeply immersed in something—was one I often had myself.

Why was Chiyo looking at me like that?

“...Chiyo?”

When I called her name, she smiled warmly and closed her eyes.

“What the heck, oppa. You’re such a showoff.”

“Huh?”

“Singing that well and staring at me like that while you’re at it?”

Wait. She knew?!

Her words hit me like a truck, and my face turned crimson for an entirely different reason.

“N-No way! I didn’t sing that well. I even cracked at the end.”

“Even pros mess up sometimes.”

Chiyo dismissed my self-deprecation with a bright smile.

“Thanks for the amazing song, oppa.”

Her words filled me with the same joy I felt while watching her sing earlier. Maybe it was the satisfaction of having my solitary hobby recognized.

Looking at Chiyo, I smiled back.

“Thanks for listening, Chiyo.”

 

"Haah, that was amazing! Time flew by faster than it does with others. Next time, we should go for two hours!"

"Ugh, give me a break. Singing nonstop is exhausting, you know."

"But you nailed it all the way through! Oppa, you’re good at ballads, but pop songs suit you even better."

"Really? Maybe I should practice those more."

Chiyo and I chatted happily as we tidied up the karaoke room. When was the last time I felt this content? Could I even allow myself to be this happy? The emptiness in my heart seemed to fill, albeit with something different.

"Ah, oppa! Watch out for the water bottle!"

"Huh? Oh, oh no!"

Lost in thought, I accidentally knocked over the water bottle on the table. It rolled underfoot, and as I stepped on it, I lost my balance.

Chiyo rushed forward, trying to catch me, but there was no way her smaller frame could stop my fall.

Thunk.

Thankfully, the karaoke room’s chairs were cushioned, so the impact wasn’t painful. The real issue was the situation we found ourselves in.

I ended up on top of Chiyo, in a position that looked… compromising.

Time seemed to freeze.

The air stilled, and it felt as though every sound was bouncing off an invisible barrier before it could reach us. All I could see was Chiyo’s trembling eyes staring up at me.

What should I do? I needed to get up.

But Chiyo seemed to have different thoughts. Her gaze wavered for a moment before she looked away, her cheeks flushed, and then… she closed her eyes.

Ah.

Chiyo.

Even someone as clueless as me, who’d spent so much time shut away in my room, couldn’t miss what kind of signal this was.

So that’s how it is.

It hit me all at once.

Why Chiyo came to karaoke with me. Why she had stuck by my side all through school.

So, it had been that all along.

"…Nutrice."

I softly whispered that name.

“You said you’d give me what I wanted, but all you’re doing is mending the scars in my heart from another world, aren’t you?”

As the words left my mouth, the karaoke room was swallowed by pitch-black darkness. Chiyo’s school uniform began to shift and transform, becoming the revealing, provocative sleepwear I’d seen earlier.

Horns sprouted from her head.

“…Seriously, you have no sense of timing.”

The one staring back at me now, exasperation written all over her face, was none other than Nutrice.