I Just Want a Single Ending [228]
Kamigawa Saku had a fantastic dream.
In it, he'd finally achieved his long-awaited single ending.
Unfortunately, just as he was about to savor the joys of this single life, he woke up.
He couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed.
Even after washing up, he couldn't stop thinking about that dream.
After all, it was the single ending he'd been working toward!
Even a glimpse of it in his dreams felt worthwhile.
The only downside was that, in the dream, all he knew was that he'd achieved his goal—he had no clue how he'd done it.
It was driving him crazy.
Sighing, Saku left for Soyo Nagasaki's place to have breakfast together.
---
"Sorry, something came up last minute. I won't be able to head to the practice room with you."
After breakfast, Saku, resting on the couch, checked a message on his phone before calling out apologetically to Soyo, who had just come downstairs, fully dressed and ready to go.
It was Sunday, their regular band practice day.
As neighbors, it was their routine to head over to the practice space together.
But today, something else required Saku's attention.
"Is it work-related?"
Soyo asked, assuming it was a business issue.
"No, something else," he explained briefly. "It won't take long. I'll only be a little late."
"Alright."
Though a bit puzzled, Soyo accepted his answer.
"Right."
Having shared the news, the two of them walked out of the apartment building together.
Watching him walk away alone, Soyo resisted the urge to follow.
Since he said he wouldn't be long, it probably wasn't anything major.
There was no need to worry about extra complications.
---
After parting ways with Soyo, Saku headed toward a park near RiNG live house.
That was where Shiina Taki had asked him to meet.
Yes, the messages were from Taki.
They were simple and to the point.
Taki: Last night I finished composing for "Ichishizuku Sora."
Taki: Are you free this morning? I want to play it for you before rehearsal.
Taki: If possible, please don't tell anyone.
Saku responded immediately and set the meeting spot at the park.
Once there, he spotted Taki, dressed casually, by a vending machine, seemingly buying something.
"Good morning."
Saku approached her with a friendly smile.
"Good morning."
Hearing his voice, Taki turned, handing him a milk coffee she'd just bought.
"What's this…?"
Saku took it instinctively, still slightly puzzled.
"A thank-you, for helping me on Friday."
Taki looked away, a little embarrassed as she explained.
She wasn't one to take others' kindness for granted, even if it was from the band manager.
But she still hadn't figured out the best way to thank him.
He had, after all, helped her solve a major problem.
So, she decided to show her gratitude as she had before, with a box of milk coffee as a token of appreciation.
Showing her gratitude was the least she could do.
As for a more fitting thank-you? She'd work that out later.
"Well, I'll gladly accept."
Saku didn't hesitate and opened it right away.
After a few sips, he moved on to business. "You said you finished the song?"
"Yeah."
Taki pulled out her phone, finding the track she'd just completed last night.
"Isn't it a bit fast?"
Before she hit play, Saku couldn't help but voice his concerns.
He had just spoken to her on Friday about how, to compose for Tomori's lyrics, she'd need to understand her inner world, and they'd agreed to hang out as a group to help with that.
And now, it was only Sunday, and she'd already completed the song. It seemed a bit rushed.
After all, she'd barely had time to bond with Tomori and gain any real understanding of her.
Even if they'd chatted by text, with Taki's usual difficulty with face-to-face conversation, he doubted they'd made much headway.
Given all that, he wasn't holding high expectations for her composition.
"Honestly, I'm not sure either. That's why I wanted you to hear it first."
Inside, Taki was feeling a mix of hope and anxiety.
Even though she felt she'd tapped into Tomori's lyrics, and had come up with something she thought was pretty good—what if it was all in her head?
To be safe, she'd called on Saku, her go-to composition expert, for a preview.
She didn't want to risk a repeat of last time.
"But, like we talked about, whether or not it works depends on Tomori's judgment of the lyrics."
Saku made it clear, wanting her to focus less on his opinion.
"In this case, my view doesn't matter as much."
"But you're a composition genius. Your opinion's still really important." Taki nodded, knowing that.
If Tomori's feedback showed how well the song fit her lyrics, then Saku's response would reflect the market's—and other listeners'—potential reaction.
"Alright, go ahead and play it."
Seeing how resolute she was, Saku decided not to argue.
Taking a deep breath, Taki pressed play.
Soon, the notes of Ichishizuku Sora began to drift through the park.
---
Not long after, the song ended.
"That was beautiful."
Kamigawa Saku offered the simplest, most direct feedback.
A moment ago, he'd been worried about whether Taki's composition might have some issues. Now, after listening to it, he realized all his concerns were unnecessary.
This was a song at a professional level—how could it be anything but beautiful?
In fact, in a certain sense, it even surpassed the study-mode version he'd created before.
But how on earth had she managed it?
A burst of inspiration?
Or had she truly understood Takamatsu Tomori's lyrics and inner world?
"Huh? Wh-What do you mean?"
Taki couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.
"I mean it's beautiful."
Thinking she hadn't heard him clearly, Saku repeated it, louder this time.
"That's not what I meant."
Of course, Taki had heard his praise loud and clear.
"What I mean is, are you serious this time? You're not just saying that like last time?"
"I'm serious. It's beautiful."
Then, realizing her concern, Saku quickly added, "You were hoping for something more technical, weren't you? In that case…"
"N-No, that's more than enough!"
She cut him off before he could finish.
After confirming he was being genuine, Taki suddenly felt like reality itself had shifted.
The first time she'd composed something, Saku had casually revised it after only a few days. The second time, Raana had made changes just as casually, and all she'd heard from him was that it was "not bad."
After so many failed attempts, this time, hearing him genuinely say it was good felt surreal.
Getting a compliment from a composing prodigy…
Taki didn't know how to react.
Should she laugh? Cry?
Neither felt quite like her style.
"Can you tell me how you managed it?"
Saku voiced his lingering question.
"This time was an exception. This time, I was able to understand Tomori's lyrics and feelings, so I could compose."
Taki finally snapped out of her daze, looking at Saku with a complicated expression.
The reason for this exception was because of him.
"In any case, you can probably feel more confident now, right?"
Even though he didn't fully understand why this time was an exception, Saku pretended to and gave her a reassuring smile.
"You're ready to let Tomori hear it."
"…"
At this, Taki sobered up quickly.
He was right—getting Saku's praise was only the first step. What truly mattered was how Tomori would respond.
If she didn't like it, then the song would be worthless.
"What's wrong?"
Saku noticed her hesitation.
"I…"
Taki wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
She felt an intense fear welling up inside her.
Not a fear that the song wasn't good enough, but a fear that she hadn't correctly understood Tomori's lyrics and feelings.
She'd called it an exception, a moment of understanding—but what if that was only wishful thinking?
She barely even managed to talk to Tomori. How could she be sure she truly understood her?
"It seems like you've lost your confidence."
Seeing her head hung low, Saku spoke gently.
On Friday, he'd told her how she could bridge the gap with a genius, allowing her to take up composing again.
The problem was, her confidence hadn't exactly fallen into place.
After all, confidence isn't something you can just summon at will.
Taki had spent her life in the shadow of her older sister, and these recent setbacks had only compounded the damage. For her to regain her confidence in a short time was no easy task.
"…"
Taki stayed silent, not disagreeing.
He was probably right—her confidence was gone.
Once, when inspiration struck, she would've had the nerve to bring her composition to the practice room right away for Tomori and Saku to hear and review.
But now, even with Saku's praise, she was hesitating to share it with Tomori.
She was afraid.
Afraid that after so much effort, this composition would end up being useless.
"Why don't we make it a game?"
Just then, Saku's voice broke the silence.
"A game?"
Thinking he was trying to change the topic, Taki looked up.
Then, she saw Saku pull out his phone and hit play.
A moment later, the flawless melody of Ichishizuku Sora filled the air.
"A game where Tomori decides whose composition for Ichishizuku Sora sounds better."
As the beautiful tune played, Saku's words took her completely by surprise.
"You're saying to compare my version to this one?"
How could she?
There was no way she could win!
"That's right," Saku replied, as if it were obvious.
He'd said before that the study-mode version of Ichishizuku Sora could "crush" Taki's confidence.
And he still believed that.
But now, a new question emerged.
What if Taki's version could "crush" the study-mode version of Ichishizuku Sora? What then?
The answer was simple: her confidence would be restored.
If Taki's version could beat the study-mode one, it would bring her confidence back to life.
Under ordinary circumstances, this would be impossible.
Out of ten thousand people voting on the two versions, it would be amazing if even one person picked Taki's.
Such was the gap in skill.
But this wasn't an ordinary case.
Their "judge" was only one person, Takamatsu Tomori.
In other words, as long as Tomori thought Taki's composition sounded better, it was enough.
Could she win?
Saku couldn't say for certain.
But he believed in Taki.
And when he'd heard her song, he'd genuinely thought it surpassed the study-mode version in a way that only she could achieve.
"You really think I could win?"
Taki wasn't dense—she quickly understood his suggestion's meaning.
"Yes," Saku said, nodding firmly.
"Why are you so sure?"
Taki was mystified.
After all, she didn't think she could win.
"Because, like I told you before, if you understand Tomori's lyrics and her feelings, you can create a song that surpasses a genius's work."
Saku's gaze was steady, his words sincere.
"And now, I believe you when you say you understand her lyrics and her heart."
"…"
Taki stared blankly at him.
She hadn't expected him to have this much faith in her.
Even when she couldn't believe in herself.
"All right. Let's do it!"
After a brief pause, Taki gave her answer.
Since he believed in her, she wouldn't betray that trust.
This time was an exception?
Yes, it was an exception.
---
T/N: I AM JUST A FISH