Chikan Bus Keionbu File

Mio, the bassist, feels it first. A hand pressing against her thigh through her pleated skirt. She freezes—not from fear, but from disbelief. Buses are supposed to be safer than trains.

She turns slightly. The man beside her wears a salaryman’s suit and holds a briefcase. His eyes are closed, feigning sleep. But his fingers move with deliberate rhythm, as if plucking bass strings. Chikan bus keionbu

Not a song. A beatdown.

Ritsu looks up. Yui wakes. Tsumugi stops smiling. Mio, the bassist, feels it first

Late evening. A crowded city bus, not a train. The last bus of the night. waiting for the count-in.

For a second, the bus feels like a rehearsal room: tense, waiting for the count-in.