Chapter Text
Click… Click… Tap-tap-tap.
Kanade: “It’s no use… I’m stuck.”
Click-click.
Comments:
“K–san is amazing!”
“I found myself stuck, but I felt something listening to this song.”
“Every song is so unique, I’m surprised!”
Kanade smiles for a brief moment. It falters.
Kanade: “But…”
Swipe.
Comments:
“Is it really just one person working on these songs?”
“The art looks stiff.”
“The videos look cheap. Sucks since the music is so good.”
Kanade sighs.
Kanade: “I still have a lot to learn.”
Click.
A playback of the video echoes in her bedroom. Her song sounds filled with a hope drowned in anguish, but Kanade eyes the off–beat frames in the videos.
Kanade: “I should’ve waited another day. I could’ve noticed these mistakes sooner…”
Kanade: “The art doesn’t capture what I wanted this song to convey, and the editing doesn’t match the timing of the song.”
Kanade: “It’s been years since I started. So why…”
Kanade shakes her head.
Kanade: “I have to focus on my next song.”
Kanade: “I was looking for inspiration from my previous songs, but I haven’t found any.”
Kanade: “What do I do?”
Click–click.
Kanade searches for ideas on the internet, and looks for any forums on song ideas. She scrolls through it and finds nothing that catches her eye. One idea, in particular…
Kanade: “I’ve already done this song a few years ago. I need to come up with a new idea.”
Kanade: “All of my previous works haven’t managed to reach anyone.”
She continues searching, but finds nothing noteworthy in the forums. Instead, she turns to the website where she uploads her music.
She clicks through a few videos, skims through its contents, yet finds nothing. She clicks on a specific video, and a girl dressed in a classic idol’s outfit is at the center of the frame. Her hair is short, shoulder-length and vividly blue.
???: “As always, everyone: Tomorrow will always be a better day!”
The girl smiles, and the video abruptly cuts to a few comedic edits of the idol.
It was a fan edit meant to tribute the idol, Haruka Kiritani, after she leaves ASRUN (the idol group she is from, Kanade assumes) and fully retires from being an idol.
Kanade: “She retired?”
A clip of Haruka’s singing plays.
Kanade: “Her voice…”
Kanade: “This song is filled with a lot of hope. It would take a lot of energy for someone to keep up with the song.”
Kanade: “And yet, she does it flawlessly.”
The video continues playing. Kanade giggles at some of the edits and zoom–ins to a few of Haruka’s particularly funnier moments on–camera.
When the video ends, Kanade goes back to searching for a few more videos. A short video appears in her feed, which catches her interest. It was mainly because of the focus’ bright purple hair with teal streaks.
Kanade was expecting something hilarious, considering the title’s sharp words towards the person performing, but instead…
???: “The lonely alchemist wandered, on and on, searching for the cure to his cursed heart.”
Drones flew up behind him, simulating the alchemist character this performer was narrating about.
Kanade found herself laser–focused on his performance, and the way the robots followed his every command. Just like with Haruka, Kanade wondered something.
Kanade: “His work could be amazing in the theater space.”
Kanade: “And Kiritani-san’s work as an idol was phenomenal.”
The video ended. Kanade clicked back to the homepage, but put distance between herself and the screen. She stared at the wall beside her.
Kanade: “They’re exceptionally talented. How come?”
Kanade: “I’ve been making music for as long as I can remember, and I picked up illustration and video–editing to accompany my songs.”
Kanade: “And yet… my songs can’t reach anyone.”
Kanade opens up one of her older videos that reached 600K views. It was the first time she incorporated art and editing into the process, clearly shown by the lack of technique in both areas.
She scrolled to the comments.
Comments:
“This is so good!”
“Please keep up the work!”
“I’m subscribed. I look forward to more music.”
Kanade: “Good… Keep it up… Amazing…”
Kanade: “I don’t need any of that.”
Kanade: “If my music can’t reach anyone… If the gift I was born with ends up useless…”
Kanade picks up her knees to her chin on her chair.
Kanade: “What am I supposed to do?”
Kanade: “I have to keep creating. I have to–!”
She faces her monitor, but all she sees is her playlist app. An empty playlist is open, save for a singular file.
Kanade: “Untitled?”
Kanade: “I didn’t save a song just now… I don’t recognize it.”
Kanade: “What could it be?”
Click–click.
Suddenly, a swarm of shards fly in her sight, blinding her. She gasps and shields her eyes, feeling a cold winter breeze rush past her.
The winds calm down slightly, and she feels a sharp cold run from her feet through her spine. She’s sitting down on snow, and she rushes up only to jerk away from the floor in an attempt to rush out of the freezing temperature.
She looks up. It is pure, white snow all around her. She hugs herself in an attempt to make up for the warmth that her tracksuit barely provides.
Kanade: “It’s so cold… Where am I?”
Kanade: “I can’t see a thing.”
She looks around. She’ll be blown away if she takes her feet off the ground.
Kanade: “Uhk…!”
The blizzard picks up. Kanade’s breathing shortens as she hugs herself tighter, standing against the winds.
She shuts her eyes against the snowflakes. All of a sudden, a voice sings in the distance.
???: “♪~”
Kanade: “Huh?”
It was a song she wrote a few years back. The girl’s voice overwhelms the howling of the blizzard.
Kanade: It’s strange…
Kanade: I feel… warmer, somehow.
Kanade: Isn’t that a sign of late stage hypothermia?
The voice continues singing. She opens her eyes, and finds a faint light in the distance.
She reaches out to it. Her vision fades to white.
When she opens her eyes, she finds herself almost standing on her chair. Her hands grip the armrests like a lifeline, and she catches her breath.
Kanade: “What was that?”
She looks at her monitor. The application closed, it seems.
Kanade: “Just now, I thought I’d–”
Creak!
Honami: “Yoisaki–san? Is everything alright?”
Kanade: “Hm?”
Kanade is catching her breath.
Honami: “You look pale… And your breathing is shallow…”
Honami: “Did something happen?”
Kanade shakes her head.
Kanade: “No, everything is alright.”
Kanade: “I think I just had… a dream.”
Honami: “It sounds more like a nightmare if this is how you woke up.”
Kanade relaxes in her chair and places a hand over her heart. It’s beating fast.
Kanade: “It’s alright. I’ll be fine. Did you just get here?”
Honami: “Yes. I managed to bring a few groceries to leave some food made.”
Kanade: “Mochizuki–san, you don’t have to…”
Honami: “It’s my job to take care of the house, and that includes your health. I don’t mind, really.”
Kanade: “Trust me, I’ll be fine.”
Honami glances to the side. She tries to bring something up, but hesitates.
Honami: “I’ll get to work now. Let me know if you need anything.”
Kanade: “Alright. Thank you so much.”
Honami exits the bedroom.
Kanade looks back at her monitor and opens up the playlist application. She finds the empty playlist, and the Untitled file.
Kanade: “It wasn’t a dream?”
She shivers in memory of the blizzard.
Kanade: “But at the end… Someone sang my song.”
Kanade: “I couldn’t identify the voice, but… I felt warmth from it.”
She shakes her head after a beat.
Kanade: “That’s redundant. What good is it if I can’t let others feel that warmth?”
Kanade: “…Maybe…”
She opens up her music application, and creates a new file.