On the stage where the lights have gone out, Haruka does not take her hands off the strings for a while even after the final note has rung out. The audience is silent, but in that silence, she clearly feels that someone's heart has been moved.

As even the static coming from the live house's old speakers ceased, the space was submerged in complete silence. The people filling the audience seats were unable to leave, each immersed in their own inspiration. Some stared at the stage as if lost, while others sat with their eyes closed, unable to break free from the performance that had just ended.

In the darkness, Haruka slowly raised her head. Instead of stage lights, the faint glow of an exit sign softly enveloped her silhouette. A few strands of light purple hair, damp with sweat, clung to her cheek, but she didn't mind. Her eyes, a mysterious blend of red and purple, turned toward somewhere in the dark. There, Guest was standing.