“That light? That’s some kind of magic that exists in this world?” I asked.

“Yes. It’s the same as what Filo uses as a humming fairy,” Glass explained. Right, of course. Coming to this world had allowed Filo to attack using her songs. I remembered her using it when her other magic had been sealed away. And during a concert to cheer me up, she had sung a suspicious song that put Motoyasu and the rest of her fans under a charm spell. “With the level of skill he is displaying here,” Glass continued, “he would only need a little instruction from a specialist in the field to produce results equal to Filo—if not greater,” Glass continued.

“Sounds like a good idea,” I replied.

Once Itsuki finished playing, he came back over to us.

“Itsuki, that was amazing!” Rishia said. Seemingly a bit embarrassed, Itsuki took her praise without saying anything and sat back down.

“You look like someone who can play something too, Rishia,” I commented.

“That’s true. I can play a little. But I don’t have the confidence to pick up something I’ve never seen before and just start playing it,” she said. That made sense to me. Just because you could play the piano didn’t mean you could play the guitar.

Unless you were Itsuki, of course. What was going on there?

“It looked like Itsuki played that weird crystal thing without any complaints,” I ventured.

“So many instruments are basically the same, once you get down to it. I bet you could play too, Rishia,” he intoned.

“Fehhh,” said Rishia. I mean, there was something to what Itsuki was saying. But nine times out of ten, they would surely be too different and it wouldn’t work so well.

“How was it?” Itsuki asked.

“I think you’ve really improved the atmosphere. Itsuki, everyone is looking at you now,” I told him. Itsuki took a look around, showing hints of embarrassment.

“There is no need to be polite. This is mainly thanks to Filo,” he replied.

“I’ve always thought you could probably play, right from when I first met you,” I told him. Itsuki tilted his head to the side, face expressionless.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. That response . . . I had seen it before somewhere. I needed to think back and compare it to my own memories.

Raphtalia was looking over at me.

“Isn’t this like you and your cooking, Mr. Naofumi? You can’t remember Imiya’s full name, but you can remember recipes no matter how long they are,” she said. Yeah, that was a thing too, I conceded. In my case, it was the evaluation of everyone around me that made me “good” at cooking, but it did feel kind of similar.

I decided to probe the topic further.

“Itsuki, tell me . . . can you play any piece of music after hearing it just once?” I asked him.