The Ripple Effect

After the final performance on Sunday, the three-day Tokyo Wheels festival came to a close.

The organizers of Tokyo Wheels announced the attendance numbers for Tokyo Wheels 2026 with unprecedented speed. And at that news, the Japanese indie band scene was struck with considerable shock.

Thirty-three thousand people. Tokyo Wheels was a circuit festival that had been growing year by year. 18,000 in 2022; 20,000 in 2023; 22,000 in 2024. And last year, in 2025, 25,000. It was an event that had been gradually breathing life into the indie band scene, growing its audience by about two thousand people each year. A festival everyone expected to grow.

But now, with the audience suddenly surging by eight thousand in a single year, the local indie bands couldn't bring themselves to smile at the achievement. It wasn't because that money wasn't going into their own pockets. It was because the factor behind this sudden spike in attendance was all too obvious.

It was because everyone knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was all thanks to Group Sound. Even without looking at a random poll posted on Twitter, it was an atmosphere that any indie band could feel in their bones.

"I don't know if this is right."

"I know, right?"

"But isn't it a good thing overall?"

"It's true that it hurts our pride a bit, though."

At first, they thought the band had appeared out of respect for them, but that wasn't the case. It was a band that generalized their entire scene, declaring, 'I am different,' and 'Witness our path.' It was undeniable that the spark they struck had grown into a wildfire, breathing life back into the stagnant Japanese indie band scene. But even so, achievements gained through an outsider were hard to swallow. Especially in times like these, when bizarre rumors were circulating.

"Hey, did you hear the rumor?"

"What rumor?"

"You know Shimizu, the leader of Strange ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Straight? Apparently, she's a total wreck now."

"Why her? She seemed fine."

"Well, during Tokyo Wheels, they made some weird bet, and it sounds like she heard something that completely broke her spirit..."

"I heard you were there."

"Yeah. Shimizu really didn't want to lose the bet, so she was practically bribing other bands to help her out."

"And?"

"And, you know that guy, right? Asano, the guitarist from Blue Moon Harmonics."

"Yeah. What about him?"

"Those Korean kids brought him in to judge the bet."

"They say Shimizu is quitting music."

"Why would she do that?"

"Who knows? Guess she had a change of heart."

Strange Straight was a band that held a decent amount of sway within the indie scene. Yet, the news that followed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Tokyo Wheels was that they were halting activities and disbanding. And the rumors that began to circulate claimed that Ha Suyun of Group Sound was involved in the process. Not just involved, but that she had committed assault or utterly humiliated her.

These were the reasons why the indie bands couldn't truly celebrate the surge in Tokyo Wheels' audience.

And the person at the very center of all this controversy... was currently playing guitar in a recording studio somewhere in Tokyo.

Maybe I should have agreed to a different favor.

Suyun thought as she looked down at her guitar. This was the guitar session for Asano's solo album, the price she had to pay for calling him in as a judge. He had promised to pay her, so money wasn't the issue, but she didn't particularly enjoy playing sessions for other people's albums. After all, it was something she had done far too many times in her past life.

"Let us know when you're ready," a voice called out from the control room, crackling through the studio speakers.

Suyun shook her head to clear her thoughts, then lightly ran her bare fingers across the guitar strings. A thin, clean-toned strum echoed through the room.

"I'll warm up for a moment."

Without waiting for a reply, Suyun clenched and unclenched her hands a few times before launching into the latter half of the solo from Sultans of Swing. A clean, dynamic guitar sound rang out beautifully.

Unaware that the expressions of the people standing outside the glass were shifting into mild shock, Suyun simply thought her condition was quite good today.

"Alright, let's go."

And with that, the real recording began.

"Whoa..."

"Seriously, I have no idea how she plays like that. How old did you say she was?"

Slightly wavy long hair. A slender frame. A pick lightly held in her long, thin fingers. And a powerful guitar sound that was hard to believe was coming from those very hands.

"Nineteen, was it? I heard she graduated high school and her birthday already passed."

"I don't even know what I was doing at nineteen."

The session musicians tossed out casual remarks as they watched the performance inside the booth. Asano lightly scratched his chin and spoke.

"Usually, nineteen is the age when you're just messing around doing whatever. She's the anomaly here."

"What were you doing at nineteen, Shohei-san?"

"Me?"

At the sudden question, Shohei crossed his arms and looked back ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on his past. Nineteen. Well. Looking back at what he was doing at nineteen...

"Back then, I was running around trying to start a band, playing live houses. If I remember correctly, I think our first gig was at Shinjuku Highlight."

"Your first gig was at Highlight? Man, you were something else too."

"Hey, back in my day, Highlight was a really minor live house. Think about how old I am."

"True."

The session drummer readily agreed. Asano barked, "Don't agree so easily!" before turning his gaze back to the recording booth. There stood Ha Suyun, her slightly wavy long hair falling over her shoulders as she calmly stared down at her guitar, lost in her playing.

"When I was her age... well, I definitely couldn't play like that. Honestly, I don't think I could play like her even now. Even in my prime..."

"Come on, Shohei-san. You were definitely better than that in your prime."

"I have ears and a brain, you know. I have a conscience, how could I lie about something like that?"

While they were chatting, the producer pressed the talkback button and announced, "Guitar recording is complete."

As the other session musicians stood there in utter disbelief, Suyun walked out of the booth carrying her guitar. Asano called out to her.

"I did say you could finish up quickly, but this is a bit too short. Taking the money after barely working at all... isn't that a little unfair?"

"I did my job."

"It's a joke, a joke."

Suyun gave a curt reply, then walked over to the producer and asked, "Can I leave now?"

He gave his approval. As Suyun packed her guitar into her gig bag and prepared to leave, Asano stopped her with a question.

"Suyun-chan. I asked you before, but..."

"I'm not doing it."

"Hey, let me finish my sentence."

"You're going to ask me to play guitar for your project band anyway, aren't you? I have no intention of doing that."

"That's not what I was going to say."

The session musicians' eyes widened at the casual exchange. From what they could gather, Asano Shohei had offered Ha Suyun a guitarist position in his band, and she had rejected it. It was absolutely mind-boggling.

Asano Shohei's personal project band, Orange Horizon, was a legendary group on par with Blue Moon Harmonics—every session musician who passed through it went on to achieve massive success. Even the session players gathered here today would jump at the chance to join if given the opportunity.

Yet, Ha Suyun looked unbelievably calm for someone who had just kicked away such a golden ticket. It was as if such things weren't even worth her consideration.

"Just play as a temporary session guitarist for our live shows then. I don't have a proper guitarist right now."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that either."

"Why not?"

Rejected again. Asano's face, which had crumpled slightly in annoyance, smoothed out upon hearing her next words.

"I have to go back to Korea. We need to work on our album. And... my mom said she misses me."

"Well, I can't argue with that."

After all, he was a parent himself. How could he stop a daughter who wanted to see her mother? Of course, Asano had no way of knowing. The excuse Suyun gave was a flat-out lie; in reality, she simply didn't want to bother playing live sessions.

Their 'official' return to Korea was loud enough to fulfill all of Iseor's wildest dreams. It was to the point where Manager Jung stopped the members right before they reached the arrivals gate to give them a briefing.

"Once we step out of the arrivals gate, there will be photographers taking pictures."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. So try to look a bit presentable. I mean, there's nothing wrong with your outfits, but just tidy up any disheveled parts. And Suyun-nim, maybe you should take off that long padded coat..."

"But it's cold."

Suyun crossed her arms, making it clear she had no intention of taking it off. But she was immediately set upon by the hands of the other three members. Stripped down to a single turtleneck and comfortable slacks, Suyun glared at them in fury, only to have a cropped shearling jacket thrown over her shoulders.

"This is warm too. Let's wear this."

"No, the long padded coat is way more comfortable, why on earth... Besides, it was only a two-hour flight. Why do we have to get our pictures taken for this?"

"Airport fashion raises our brand value. Ultimately, these things accumulate to make us money..."

"Let's go right now."

Seoha, who wasn't even the one wearing it, practically had dollar signs flashing in eyes as she urged them to move. And so, the four of them stood in a neat line at the airport exit, waving to the cameras. Iseor, looking as if she had arrived at her own fan signing event, excitedly carried a marker around, signing pieces of paper left and right. That was how they returned to Korea.

"We'll start our official schedule next week. I have some people to meet first..."

"Yes, understood."

After returning, Suyun used her brief free time to catch up with people she hadn't seen in a while. She met with figures in the music industry, like guitarist Im Jun-hong and Professor Chae Ho-geun. She also replied ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to Harin of Aurora, who had been bombarding her with KakaoTalk messages saying she had been waiting for her.

She uploaded a video to her long-neglected YouTube channel, White Room. She visited Club Paradox, got in touch with Kim Chulyun of Tailored, and sent greetings to her fans. And finally, she met up with her high school friends, whom she hadn't seen in a long time—the kids who had helped her the most during her school violence scandal.

"Wow~ Thanks to our Yeonsu, I get to eat at a place like this. I'm practically tearing up."

"What do you mean, 'mom'..."

"Hey Chaerin, someone once said that pure intentions only go as far as pork. Once it's beef, there's always a catch. Is she up to something? Is she buying us this expensive food because she wants us to do something for her?"

"Is there even anything you guys can do for me?"

"Ohhh~~ Look at that celebrity aura. Is this what a ce-leb-ri-ty is like...?"

"Look at her getting cocky just because she's doing well lately. Now that your music is a hit, you think you're above us, huh?"

"Well, I have been doing pretty well lately."

Suyun spoke as she watched the meat sizzle under the server's delicate touch. The four girls burst into laughter at her words. Suyun looked at them one by one: Park Dain, Kim Suhyeon, Kang Chaerin, and Kwon Jihye.

"I realized I never properly thanked you guys for helping me back then. Since I finally have some free time, I wanted to treat you. I've been so busy lately that I barely have a moment to spare."

"How could we dare take up a celebrity's precious time? It's only right that our busy star makes the effort."

"Look at her sarcasm. Kwon Jihye has always been the queen of sulking."

"Are you only treating us with words?"

"Look at Suhyeon's greed. Hey, this is nearly a hundred dollars a serving, and you still have the nerve to ask for more?"

"I made sure to put your things away so the meat smell wouldn't get on them, so don't worry about that."

The girls bickered just as they had back in high school. Though not much time had passed, a wave of nostalgia washed over Suyun, bringing a faint smile to her face. The conversation flowed. Amidst the light drinking and the warm atmosphere, their words grew more honest.

"Yeonsu, I have... well, I don't know if I should call it a favor or just a question. There's something I wanted to ask."

"What is it?"

Dain suddenly adopted a serious tone. Suyun tilted her head slightly, studying Dain's face. What could it be?

"You can totally just brush this off, but... anyway. One of my cousins is preparing to debut as an idol soon."

"And?"

"Well, I don't know much about that world, but apparently, their agency is pretty small. My cousin even came up to me at a family gathering and complained that they couldn't get any good songs. So I was just wondering... do you get your songs from somewhere? Or do you write them yourself?"