Sis Xi clapped her hands twice, steering the conversation back on track.

“Before the girls band arrives, let’s first decide what role Xiao Kai can take on for the concert, shall we?”

“I absolutely refuse to get on stage and perform!” Already seeing through their ploy, I went straight for the opening strike.

Sis Xi, as though she had predicted my reaction, immediately followed up with another question:
“Even if it’s just a simple concert, if you don’t go on stage, what else can you do? Makeup? Lighting? Props?”

I couldn’t do makeup, and even if I could, with Rinka the genius makeup artist present, I’d never dare show off and embarrass myself.
As for lighting—I had no clue what that even involved. Props? Same deal.

So I could only shake my head and admit, helplessly:
“I don’t know how to do any of that.”

Thinking about it more carefully, Old Yan was an art expert, Rinka had makeup covered, Tangerine had her mysterious skill of speaking cat, Cangyu could hack, Haitang and Meow Meow had taekwondo and boxing, respectively, and Sis Xi was working hard at becoming a capable idol manager. Even Zhao Zhao played basketball like a pro.

Only me? Completely useless.

My one hobby was gaming—but even there, I got crushed flat by Qianxia every time.

This wasn’t going to work. Sure, plenty of high schoolers were about as mediocre as me, but I wasn’t just any high schooler—I’m the protagonist, right? Put aside the notebook, that “barely-noticed divine cheat,” what did I actually have? Nothing! Just an empty vase of a bishoujo pro—no wait, vase of a male protagonist.

Even Nobita from Doraemon could at least play cat’s cradle!

Sis Xi spread her hands.
“You can’t seriously just sit there as an audience member, can you?”

“Ah! But I’d love to be an audience member! That’s perfect for me!”

The shameless grin had barely left my face before Meow Meow’s karate-chop came whistling down on my skull, knocking me back a few steps.

“An audience member? Dream on!” she scolded, then added, “Actually, your voice isn’t bad at all. Why not try singing? I wouldn’t even mind listening—what are you so afraid of?”

“Pfft, that’s because you’ve never heard Commander sing,”
Haitang laughed, jumping in to expose me.
“Back in middle school, his class did a choir once. He was the only one the teacher specifically instructed: ‘Just move your lips, but for heaven’s sake, don’t make a sound.’”

“Onii-chan’s singing is awful,” Tangerine piled on, not missing the chance to kick me while I was down. “Whenever he hums at home, I can’t even sleep—I have to go outside just to escape.”

So that’s why you were always sneaking out, huh? And here I thought you were off flirting with other cats…

“Is it really that bad?”
Meow Meow didn’t seem convinced. She sighed.
“Guess it’s not the hardware that’s the issue—it’s the software. A shame, with such a good voice and face.”

“Huh? What do you mean by ‘software’?”

“I mean your mindset is the problem. How about I give you some special training, see if you can be saved? Come on, Kai, sing something for me.”

“Right now?”

I pouted, glaring at her. She was just looking for a laugh at my expense.

These naturally talented types always thought things easy for them must be easy for everyone.

Rinka chimed in too, egging her on.
“Exactly! The Kai-chan who can’t sing isn’t the one here, who knows—once you’re a girl, you might suddenly unlock hidden talent!”

Since you’re all so eager to dig your own graves, don’t blame me for burying you alive. Gritting my teeth, I decided to go for it.
“Fine. Today, I’ll break my silence.”

Haitang and Tangerine exchanged a look, then both covered their ears and fled to the far corner of the gym.

That stung, even if I knew my singing was terrible.

Left with only Rinka, Meow Meow, and Sis Xi, I hesitated.
“So… what song should I sing?”

Meow Meow, like a coach on The Voice, half-lidded her eyes.
“Do you know any of my songs?”

“Your first mini-album, the three tracks—I can sing them. Of course, don’t expect me to pull off your crazy multi-voice-switching tricks.”

She thought for a moment, then picked one.
“Then sing Restart. My first single. It means a lot to me.”

Singing such an important song, with her listening? If I butchered it, would she get angry?

“Don’t chicken out, Kai. Sing!” Sis Xi fiddled with her phone and, to my horror, actually queued up the instrumental.

The heavy intro rolled in.
“Wait, wait! I usually sing along with the original vocals. With just the backing track, I’ll lose the pitch completely!”

Meow Meow gave me an exasperated look.
“Then follow me. I’ll sing softly.”

And she did—lightly tracing the melody along with the backing. Singing in front of the original artist felt way too much. She was the lightning strike; I was the rusty drum.

Still, I opened my mouth and sang. The song was one that covered multi genres, as the melody shifted from heavy to upbeat near the chorus, but before I could ride the lift—

“STOP—!”

Meow Meow clamped a hand over my mouth.

“Shut it! If you keep singing, even I’ll lose the rhythm!”

Only then did I notice Rinka had bolted too, huddling with Haitang and Tangerine in the corner.

Sis Xi cut the music, rubbing her temple.
“You… even dragged big sis off pitch.”

Even the original singer couldn’t stay on key with me? I thought I was at least close!

I shrugged awkwardly.
“See? I can’t sing. I’ve got no ear for music.”

Sis Xi sighed, smiling bitterly.
“Shame. Sis Yuanyue actually wanted you as one of our idols.”

Meow Meow, finally recovering, shot me a black look.
“It’s not just being off-key. Haven’t you noticed? When you sing, it sounds like a rusty saw hacking metal pipes—or fingernails scraping a blackboard. It’s unbearable. Can a human voice even make that noise?”

She shivered, shook herself twice as if to fling off goosebumps, and threw up her hands.
“I give up. Even I can't coach a genius like you. Put you on stage, the concert’s dead.”

Once it was clear the singing attempt was over, Rinka and the others came back, Haitang smirking triumphantly.
“See? I told you—Commander is tone-deaf by nature. Nothing to do with gender.”

“And that brings us back to the same question.” Sis Xi pocketed her phone and tapped my nose. “What can you do?”

“Well… I could work ticket sales at the door?”

She shook her head. “No tickets.”

“Snacks? Drinks?”

Haitang cut in: “Not allowed. It’s a school event, and this concert isn’t about profit.”

“Then I guess I really am stuck as an audience member?”

Meow Meow rolled her eyes. “Or you could be the punching bag.”

Not that again.

“Actually, there’s still another way to get on stage.” Rinka’s eyes gleamed with mischief. She turned to Meow Meow. “If he can’t sing, he can still dance, right? Do you have backup dancers?”

“There used to be, but not this time.”

“Perfect! Then let Kai-chan be one!”

Wait, isn’t that even harder?

“No way. I’m hopeless at sports. Dancing’s impossible.”

“Kai-chan, you’re giving up without even trying! Dancing’s all muscle memory. Learn a routine, practice it thirty or forty times—you’ll grasp it. Sixty or seventy, your body remembers. A hundred, and the music starts and you’ll move automatically.”

She sounded so confident—but could she even dance herself? The whole thing reminded me of middle-aged ladies dancing in the park.

“But I’d be the only one dancing, wouldn’t that look ridiculous?”

Rinka puffed her chest and started counting on her fingers.
“There’s me, Sis Xi, Tangerine, Haitang, Xiao Lei, and Qiaojue too. That’s seven of us as candidates already! Relax~ between weekends and after-school practice, you’ll master a simple routine.”

“I’m fine with it. And I bet Qiaojue will help too.” Haitang shot me a look, quick to agree.

She’d even get on stage herself if it meant dragging me up there.

Xiao Lei and Qiaojue were both athletic, Haitang was a third-dan black belt in taekwondo, and Tangerine had shown insane agility and balance in that water-park adventure. They’d all handle it fine.

But Sis Xi… she didn’t exactly look like a dancer.

“Eh? I have to dance too?” Pulled in unexpectedly, she panicked a little.

Meow Meow, though, clapped happily.
“Then it’s settled! I’ve always wanted to try singing and dancing together. Choreography’s all yours, Xiao Xi!”

“Wait, Sis. Me? But I can’t dance, how could I choreograph?”

“Huh? Didn’t you once say you knew street dance?”

The mental image of the pudgy Mohawk Fatso breakdancing hit me—and I nearly snorted. Like a spinning Beyblade.

Sis Xi’s face fell.
“That was just… bluffing!”