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The streets are painfully empty.
Even though there's people milling about, that emptiness is clear as day to anyone familiar with Vivid Street. Usually, “empty” is the last word one would use. Usually, the streets are filled with life, with dreams and ambitions turned into song. Usually, musicians butt heads, pushing each other further, much to the excitement of the crowd.
Usually, Vivid Street burns with every color of passion.
Now, the only sounds that can be heard are people running errands. Without its music, the town feels silent, despite the noise of everyday life. No one dares to sing anymore, not after Taiga-san put out everyone's hopes. The vibrant town has been drained of its color.
That's why his appearance has quickly gathered a large crowd. It's been a while since music equipment stood proud in the streets, ready for a performance, and it's been a while since he — or anyone from Vivid BAD SQUAD — sung in the town.
It feels almost nostalgic, in a way. He hasn't done a solo performance in ages, and it makes him think of the times when he desperately clawed to be better, chasing after RAD WEEKEND day in, day out, disregarding everything else, including his own well-being.
Now, the frantic need to surpass — himself, others, RAD WEEKEND — is gone from his mind. He knows exactly what he has to do to succeed. He's no longer chasing something out of his reach. The path to success is clear in front of him, and all he has to do is pave it.
As he warms up, people get restless; rumors and gossip fly in the air around him. Whispers of Vivid BAD SQUAD disbanding, of them abandoning the town for good fill the spaces between the people gathered. It's proof of how damaging the defeat was to their reputation, and how them practicing out of town implicitly confirmed the rumors.
Akito is itching to prove them all wrong.
It's an odd sensation. Usually, anxiety wraps around him; a crawling fear of messing up, of not being good enough despite all his hours of practice. Normally, he's ready to desperately aim for something better, forever unsatisfied, even when the show is a success. For how important his task is, how crucial it is for him to complete it, that anxiety is absent; all he can feel is the need to pick up the mic and start singing.
It's new. It's something he could get used to.
His entire nervous system is on fire with anticipation. He wants to sing already, to share that blaze with everyone present and relight Vivid Street for good. He can't do that, not yet; a few things need adressing first. He almost rushes through everything he needs to say, the mic in his hand painfully hot, urging him on to let the streets burn with proof of their determination.
People continue to chatter once he finishes speaking. They quickly quiet down when they hear the backing track; their curious, expectant eyes all focus on him.
Akito will convince them to never look away from him, or his team, ever again.
When he sings, an inferno roars out. He feels a sense of satisfaction as the audience's curiosity turns to surprise, then switftly melts into excitement with the heat of his song. While everyone else averted their eyes from Vivid BAD SQUAD, from music as a whole, they spent every precious second practicing until they physically couldn’t anymore. All of that practice is paying off now, as is his extra training with Ken-san and the session with Luka-san.
It feels good to throw everything back at Vivid Street, he realizes. Determination, desperation, excitement, anxiety, joy, love — everything singing and music has made him feel up until this point. It all wells up to the surface like molten lava, for him to use as fuel.
For the first time ever, he's singing with his heart open to his audience. They have no choice but to accept the onslaught of his feelings, the waves of fire accentuating each syllable that leaves his lips. He never thought he'd bare himself to Vivid Street like this — it's freeing, in a way. For the Akito of the past, for the kid that stuck with music through sheer perseverance against all odds, he lets them hear everything.
The crowd is filled with familiar faces. None of them can look away, too mesmerized by the sparks flying in the air, too taken by his blazing flames. He remembers well, how they used to turn from him with a cruel word, how frustrated he was when trying to fruitlessly gain their attention. Those memories, that frustration, can serve as fuel too. He'll burn it all, until the only thing left is the most basic feeling of all — the desire to sing. It's at the heart of this town, these people, and he's going to rekindle those feelings even if it's the last thing he'll do.
His eyes catch on two silhouettes further back in the crowd. He's pleased to recognize them as Kotaro and the owner of crawl green.
After their defeat, he tried reaching out to Mita, only to never get a response. Partially, he understands; Taiga-san was overpowering, not to mention how crushing the truth about Nagi-san was. Akito can see how someone would give up after such an overwhelming loss.
At least, Mita is here now. It must mean that some part of him still wants to sing. And if he didn't want to come back before, Akito will convince him to do with his song. It's one more fire he has to rekindle.
The sight of crawl green's owner still brings up shame, bitter and heavy, even after the success of their event. No matter how much he wants to, he can't change the past, even though his present self is leagues above the Akito from back then. He was able to stand on that stage, and do what he couldn't back then, but despite that, he can't fully shake off the embarassment.
Maybe now, maybe after Vivid Street comes back to life, with him at it's heart, the shame will finally fully burn away into nothing more but flecks of grey.
He's surprised to realize how confident he is, how much faith he has not only in his success, but in moving on properly from the events of the past. He's always been cocky, but even then, he was always painfully aware of his own weakness, of how far he still was from his goal. This feeling, this assuredness is different. He finally has the skill to back that confidence up, to put on a performance so scorching it leaves burn marks in everyone's minds.
Everything is so intense. His heart feels like it might explode, pounding incredibly fast, in tandem with the energetic beat blaring from the speaker. There's so much adrenaline in his body, he almost feels lightheaded, like he's moments away from going crazy. He doesn't care, because he’s never felt more alive. He’s going to hold on to this feeling forever, never letting it out of his grasp.
He mourns the moment he has to stop, his performance coming to an end. He’s never wanted to keep singing more, until his voice grows hoarse, until someone has to pry the mic from his hand and pull the cord on the speaker. He takes a moment to cool down, while the instrumental plays the final notes.
He stopped singing, but the street isn't silent.
Cheers erupt the moment the music stops, a fiery burst of applause. The vibrancy, the heat he came to associate with Vivid Streets finally starts coming back; loud, euphoric and brilliant.
He's surprised when his mind conjures the image of a phoenix, and how the mythological bird gets reborn from it's own ashes. It's a fitting comparison, and he's glad for the opportunity to be the catalyst for it's blazing rebirth.