The Birth of a Masterpiece
Two days later, at a rehearsal studio near Tokyo.
The music playing through the monitor speakers faded, leaving a distant, lingering resonance in its wake.
"…Yes. That's the end of my song."
Even after hearing Ha Suyun announce the end, Araki didn't react. No, he couldn't. To be precise, he was utterly incapable of any reaction.
Honestly, he had a lot to say. For instance, how on earth did this happen when there wasn't even a trace of such a song just four days ago? Or, looking at the song's structure and overall build-up, it had the epic, grand-scale feel of 70s progressive rock—or what would later be called art rock. Was she influenced by that? Or, there was a distinct scent of the blues in this track, but where did it come from? Mississippi? Louisiana? Chicago? Texas? Or did she just invent her own style? Where on earth did she get the inspiration to create something like this?
If he wanted to, Araki could have gone on forever using his vast musical knowledge. And he wanted to. After all, before being a musician by trade, he was someone who lived with the attitude of a musician. He had so many questions about how she could have composed such a piece... but those questions, though rising to the tip of his tongue, ultimately sank back down. Because now was not the time for such talk.
'It is... truly overwhelming.'
Simply making a "good song" can actually be done surprisingly fast. Even without bringing up Guns N' Roses' "Sweet Child O' Mine"—an example so overused it barely needs mentioning—there are countless songs in the world that were written in the blink of an eye compared to how good they are. This is because once the structure is decided, the melody filling that structure is often born from a sudden flash of inspiration. There are times when you agonize for days over what kind of song to write, but other times, a single line of melody that pops into your head can build the entire track. Araki himself had experienced this countless times.
But that only applies after the "structure" is decided. After the "frame" exists. After deciding "I should make something in this genre" or "I'm currently making something in that genre." In other words, what just happened here... looked similar, but was fundamentally different.
"This..."
"Yes?"
"I'm really sorry, but can I ask? Did you write this beforehand and keep it saved?"
Perhaps unable to bear the silence, or perhaps unable to contain his curiosity, Ito finally asked Ha Suyun.
"No. I made it recently."
"Unbelievable..."
Kirishima's murmur seemed to speak for Araki's own feelings.
'A good song can be made quickly.'
The song Ha Suyun had brought before was certainly a "good song." But Araki thought: even if he had been told back then that the song was written in fifty seconds instead of five minutes, he would have just reacted with, "Wow, that's amazing." It was just a matter of how quickly inspiration struck... and as long as inspiration came, Araki was fully capable of doing the same. In fact, he had written a few hit songs in ten minutes, if not fifty seconds.
But this song was different. Even if Ha Suyun had said, "It took me about forty days to write this," Araki probably would have said, "That didn't take long at all." Even if she said, "It took four hundred days," he would have said, "Wow... that's truly incredible." And he would have meant it with absolute sincerity.
Because standing an egg on its end by cracking the bottom... is not an idea ordinary people can come up with.
The atmosphere in the studio, which had felt like a sudden onset of aphasia, finally thawed after a long while. And the moment it did, Araki, Ito, and Kirishima poured out their thoughts on the song.
"When the piano melody first started, I thought, 'Oh, this is nice.' But when the keyboard came in, I literally got goosebumps. And then when the humming started, it was just..."
"How should I put it? I don't know if you've ever played these kinds of games, but in Japan, we have these RPGs. An ancient civilization that already fell, a floating island in the sky, and the protagonist wandering through the ruins... It makes me think of something like that. Sorry, I'm a game otaku, so that's the only analogy I can come up with."
"What can I say? If you ask me whether this is my taste or not, I can definitely say it's not. And yet, I feel like I'd put it on my playlist anyway. The way the layers build up one by one makes me think of a pocket orchestra. It's less like progressive rock and more like progressive trance in electronic music... building, building, building, and then exploding in an instant."
Despite hearing these somewhat embarrassing compliments, Suyun maintained a deadpan expression. The others looked at her and thought, 'Is this what a true genius is like?'
But in reality, she felt a bit different.
'Whew, thank goodness.'
She was actually incredibly nervous. It might seem absurd for Suyun, who had been through all kinds of battles, hardships, and practically World War III in her past life, to be nervous... but she couldn't help it.
Because to Suyun, this felt like her true beginning.
Until now, Suyun had taken things created by others and "reinterpreted" them from her own perspective to produce results. But with this song, she had taken things from others and "recreated" them from her own perspective. And the gap between those two, at least to Suyun, was immense.
It went beyond just being "good." It meant Suyun had finally begun to create something "uniquely her own."
"So, should we go with this song?"
"Of course! Honestly, I feel like begging you to let us do this with you. If I missed the birth of a song like this, I'd regret it for the rest of my life."
"True. It feels like... leaving a footprint in history."
"Oh, surely not that far."
"What do you mean, 'not that far'! Of course, we don't know what the future holds, but this is a song that could pioneer a genre. Missing the chance to participate would be insane."
Listening to Ito and Kirishima shower her with intense praise, Suyun felt her ears turning slightly red.
If this were the usual Group Sound...
"Oooooh~ Ha Suyun~~ Look at you go~"
"As expected of Suyun-nim... I believed in you... damn it..."
"Following Ha Suyun was the best decision of my life, I tell ya."
"Unnies, hurry up and chant 'Great Suyun!' What are you doing? She's paving our way to success. We must worship her."
"Great Suyun! Great Suyun! Great Suyun!"
'Even while praising me, they'd find a way to tease me.'
They were the definition of frenemies. But honestly, Suyun preferred that kind of reaction. This current atmosphere was far too overwhelming.
"But, if we do this..."
While Suyun was enduring her internal agony and the other two were pouring out compliments, Araki spoke up as if to propose something.
"Yeah?"
"Our original plan was, 'Let's each do what we like and want to do,' right?"
"Right... Ah. I think I know what you're getting at."
Ito and Kirishima stopped mid-sentence and nodded at Araki. Araki nodded back.
Feeling a bit left out, Suyun glanced back and forth at their faces. Why were the three of them suddenly having a spiritual communion?
'What is this? Is this that famous Japanese "ijime" (bullying)?'
Suyun felt a dusty, long-forgotten memory rising from the depths of her mind. For some reason, she felt a sudden urge to call them Japs, put on a white hanbok and a gat, grab an axe, and march up to Hanyang to avenge the grievances of the colonial era...
"Suyun-san."
"Yes?"
"If you don't mind... how about we center this collaboration album around the music you make? Let's put aside the concept of 'doing what we each like' for now, and completely change the direction."
Araki's proposal was to scrap the original "hodgepodge" concept of everyone doing whatever they wanted, and instead restructure the album around Suyun's music. Of course, Suyun wouldn't write everything; about half the album would consist of songs written by the other members, but heavily drawing from Suyun's music and her input.
"Let's do that."
Suyun agreed. There was no reason not to. What creator would refuse when told, "Let's focus the project on you"?
However, there was one catch. It wasn't a musical issue, but an external one.
"What about the album release and promotion?"
"Hmm..."
Going back to the very beginning, long before the idea of "anonymity" had even crossed their minds...
According to their initial discussions, they were supposed to press physical copies and run a massive promotional campaign.
"Araki, Ito, Kirishima, Ha Suyun! Four legendary band members have united! A true Japanese all-star band! If you don't listen to this album, you're missing out on half your life!"
But now that they were discussing an anonymous album, that part became tricky. How should they handle the release strategy?
After hours of discussion, the four of them reached a consensus.
"Let's release it as an album, but under a pseudonym, and do zero promotion."
"That definitely sounds like more fun."
It was a method that satisfied everyone's various needs while creating a highly intriguing situation.
Would people recognize it?
Would they realize that the anonymous album they picked up was actually a gathering of the Japanese band scene's all-stars... and perhaps an album that would leave a permanent mark on history?
"What if it doesn't sell at all?" Suyun asked, throwing a bit of cold water on the excitement.
Based on her experience with the Korean album market, she thought that was a very real possibility.
"Oh, that won't happen," the others, especially Araki, insisted. They seemed absolutely certain it was impossible.
"It will definitely sell. Even if it takes a little time."
Two weeks later, at a Tower Records somewhere in Japan.
"Hello. I'm here to pick up the album I pre-ordered."
Minami considered himself a pretty hardcore J-Rock listener. He preferred listening to music with deep focus at home rather than just streaming it on his commute.
"Oh, Minami-san! You're early. I have it packed up for you right here."
"Thank you."
One of his habits was to buy and listen to almost any band's album as soon as it came out, whether he preferred them or not. Even if he ended up selling it used later, he made it a rule to buy it and listen to it at least once.
Today was one of those days. A day to pick up a pre-ordered album from his list on its release date. A day when his heart fluttered with the anticipation of listening to music at home.
"Minami-san!"
"Yes? What is it?"
The voice of the Tower Records clerk stopped him.
"This really isn't a sales pitch, but a completely new band just released an album."
"Okay."
"I bought a copy and listened to it this morning, and... it's dangerously good. I absolutely had to recommend it to you."
"Pardon?"
The clerk, whom he knew well, practically pushed the album onto him like a salesman. Minami bought it, feeling a bit pressured, and thought about it as he unwrapped it at home.
'He's not the type to exaggerate.'
Most of the albums that clerk recommended had been good. But an album by a completely unknown rookie band? Would it really be good? Or was it just a promotion?
With those thoughts, he put the CD into the player.
And he fell into silence at the music that flowed out.
Surprisingly, this exact phenomenon was happening all over Japan.