Karaoke Bonds and Midnight Melody Crafting
Jisu seemed thrilled just to be at the karaoke joint with me, grinning ear to ear even after belting out a Vocaloid Program song that any ordinary high school girl might not even know. It wasn't because she knew the lyrics—it was the pure joy of hanging out with this girl named Lee Haru.
Sure, her score flashed a pathetic 73 on the screen, but who cared? I knew from experience that humans learn through failure.
"Whoa, our Lee Haru! Singing a Japanese song... Don't tell me you've been too embarrassed to come karaoke with me all this time because of this?"
Jisu poked my side with her finger, teasing that this was the reason she'd never come with me before. The ticklish sensation of someone prodding my side was a first, and a weird squeak escaped me without thinking.
"Eek!"
"Side's your weak spot, huh? Hehe!"
She kept poking, addicted to my squeals, but stopped when she realized she was still holding the mic and the noise was leaking outside.
"Alright, let's get right to it!"
I was debating whether to sing another when Jisu shoved in a thousand-won coin, queuing up two more songs. She scrolled through the charts, picking her next track.
"Aaaah!!!"
"Whoa, jump scare..."
Some bizarre screech erupted from the next room—definitely J-pop from the Japanese lyrics, but so mangled into a howl that I couldn't even guess the original song.
Jisu made a brief "What the heck...?" face before diving into her song. My singing was like precisely recreating what my sharpened ears picked up, but Jisu's was her own practiced style, and it sounded utterly beautiful.
"Phew... Now, time for another round of our Lee Haru's singing?"
I waved her off in a panic. I'd planned to sing just one and objectively assess my voice, but her spur-of-the-moment energy had derailed that.
Still, I always liked this consistent side of her. She seemed to act on whims, but I knew it came from caring about me—and I loved that about her too.
I jumped straight into the popularity chart and clicked the top song that caught my eye. Not a Vocaloid track, but the #1 J-pop hit on this karaoke machine.
The #1 song on this world's karaoke charts... Worth a shot. No confidence I'd nail it, but effort counts.
I vaguely recalled it as an anime song; post-memories, I'd only heard it once or twice as a sleep aid. Maybe because it was my second song, my throat felt looser, making it easier.
It ended with a solid 83 points. No need for Jisu to say it—I tossed in another thousand-won bill right away. One more turned into keep going until even energetic Jisu was panting, and I was wiped.
"Hraaaagh! Kayoooo! Yaaayayaaah!"
The next room was still butchering J-pop with monster roars. I wondered if their throat could take it.
"Ugh... Don't they ever tire next door?"
"Dunno... Let's head home."
"Yeah."
Bad timing—the door opened, revealing someone in our school uniform, but an unfamiliar face. Chubby, glasses, classic otaku vibe. Not quite "Eek! Monster, get out of our village!" but the impression was hard to shake.
Out in the narrow karaoke alley, Jisu and I linked arms under the sunset sky. Naturally, peaches wafted from her—never seen her spritz perfume, yet she always smelled like it up close. A mystery.
Her body pressed closer, overly touchy as ever. It was embarrassing, but the happiness hit hard.
"See you tomorrow, Haru... Pick up if I text?"
"Uh... Yeah."
I walked home, leaving her wistful gaze behind. Without Jisu, it felt a bit empty.
On the way back, finally alone, I pulled out my phone to check NewTube Studio.
Views: 8,500 / Subscribers: 270
The momentum showed no signs of slowing. Even for a well-known track from my memories, as a debut I'd doubted it'd hit—but it proved me wrong.
If anything, my future moves could push it beyond memory's view counts. The NewTube comments were overwhelmingly positive.
Blocking the scattered ad spam from various sites trimmed about 30 comments. Once the algorithm kicks in, weird ones flock—unavoidable, maybe.
But scanning the comments, I could feel expectations rising. For a newbie like me pulling this off, the vibe was "How insane will she get with growth?"
A bit... pressuring.
It was just replication, not pure talent. The burden stuck with me.
Gotta meet those expectations. Should hit up the Vocaloid Gallery later.
Without the info in their pinned post, who knows how much longer it'd have taken. I quickened my steps home, dumped my bag on the bed, and plopped at the computer.
I opened the Farewell Declaration MR file and dove in.
"~~♪~ ♪~"
Humming the lyrics, I gripped the mouse. The physical limits from karaoke and the music eval today sparked real insight.
Vocaloid's killer perk—handling what humans can't—hit home again.
*Click-clack. Tap.*
Sail Out drained stamina live, but Farewell Declaration was smoother. Easier to layer vocals over the MR here than there.
"~~"
Lyrics slipped out unconsciously, like Lee Haru's clear tone filled the room. Work, eat, work.
11 PM. Parents asleep, but my room light blazed.
This MR's easier than expected.
Unlike Sail Out's full MR-then-tweak, I tweaked vocals per MR chunk. Last time, casual listens fooled, but close inspection revealed flaws—I wanted every detail perfect.
Mid-flow, I caught my reflection: bloodshot eyes from hours, messy hair. Screaming "I'm beat," yet my face glowed with vigor.
Did that lonely guy ever dream of this?
Still no clue if he was my past life, but with all his memories, I knew his mindset: This is what I'd think.
He slaved for recognition, music his sole solace as a consumer. Now, I was creating his songs—even if just recreations.
*Bzzz.*
Farewell Declaration MR at 80% when my phone vibrated. Message from Jisu.
Right... In this precious life, Jisu was there too. Smiling, I typed back.
Motivation surged post-send. Someday... I want to recreate it with my voice.