I'll Wait Here Until You Come
Who would've thought we'd make it to the finals. Back when I first met Luna-ri, I never dreamed something like this could happen. Talk about how you never know what life has in store. The praise for the song I made felt so surreal, like it was happening to someone else on the other side of the screen. Maybe it's because Yoo Na-ri sang it so well. Either way, I can say I was right to sell that track.
"Ugh, that's gotta be a ton of pressure."
With the finals about to kick off, viewer numbers were climbing in real time. Sion, one of LINK's top singing VTubers by the numbers, versus Luna-ri, a total unknown who couldn't even ego-search herself before the contest. The matchup screamed established powerhouse vs. dark horse, and people's hype was hitting peak levels.
Public opinion was leaning hard toward a Sion win. She was already a singing queen with massive popularity, and her overwhelming semifinal performance had set hearts ablaze. Even I'd pick her if someone asked who I thought would take it. In singing contest finals like this, flashy high-note power shows or explosive tracks that steal the audience's souls always had the edge. Since it's just one listen, easy listening didn't matter— the most stimulating song stuck in your ears.
In that sense, Luna-ri...
"Hm."
She wasn't the flashy type to begin with, and she'd picked a track that went completely against the winning formula. My first song. The melody from my most immature days, lyrics from my darkest. On the brightest stage of all—the finals—she stubbornly insisted on singing this gloomy tune.
Why go out of her way? I couldn't understand it, but I was still rooting for Luna-ri.
[Alright, the end of Virtual Voice Fight is upon us. Just one step left to victory! Who will claim that glory? Luna-ri, please come out!]
With the MC's intro, Luna-ri appeared on screen. Gone were the cute wolf pajamas from before; she was back to her basic avatar. The one from when we first met.
[Hello everyone, it's Luna-ri. Please take care of me in the finals.]
[Is it another new song this time?]
[Yes, another one made by Young-il. I'll be singing "This is All for Me".]
Her voice had already settled into the emotion, calm and steady. The screen went pitch black, sound fading out.
Ding— It started with a single piano note. Not struck hard, it spread softly, vibrating faintly. As that gentle tone faded, an even lower ding— followed. The low, heavy piano notes connected in deepening darkness.
Then.
"...Huh?"
Over the blackout broadcast screen, footage played that I'd never seen before. Simple illustrated animation. In a cramped, dark room sat a girl, curled up, seen from behind. The only light: the square glow of a monitor on her face. It looked just like my back, huddled in the corner of my room.
The difference? The girl in the illustration wore cat-eared headphones.
A lonely acoustic guitar melody flowed, and Luna-ri's first verse emerged.
[Narrow room—]
[My only window, a square frame]
Dark, sharp, precarious. Her breathy delivery, like she might shatter any second, amplified the girl's loneliness at the monitor.
[My narrow room is actually so vast]
[The whole world is right here]
What I'd poured into those lyrics... resignation, escape, fear. Those emotions.
But something felt off. Different. Why?
[Five-pyeong tiny room]
[An endless universe right here]
The illustration shifted dramatically. The girl looked up at the monitor, and countless stars poured out, flooding the dark room with blinding light.
[My voice cast into the darkness]
[My monologue sent beyond the square frame]
The girl grabbed a mic. She was singing in a narrow sound booth.
[I'm happy here]
[Connected to the world]
With the visuals, it felt like... yeah, like the desperate wait of a streamer for fans beyond the screen.
The melody didn't brighten past the midpoint into the back half. No hope in sight—just endless lonely accompaniment. Yet Luna-ri's heartfelt vocals pierced the deep melancholy. Her sincerity painted radiant hope over the song.
And at last, the end. The farewell laced with bitter resignation approached.
"Ah."
'It's fine if this is all there is, breathing here is enough, goodnight.' That bittersweet ending I'd written felt all wrong now. Not fitting for a girl starting to shine.
The backing faded, the song nearing its close. At the same moment, the illustrated girl turned toward the screen with a faint smile.
[It's fine, even if this is all there is]
Then Luna-ri's hand reached out toward someone beyond the monitor.
[I'll wait for you here]
[Until you come to this place]
[Always]
A lingering cello melody hung in the air. The video ended with Luna-ri smiling brightly as she stepped into the monitor.
And.
"The lyrics..."
The lyrics had changed. Had I begged the heavens to alter the old words, and they listened? No way. This was Yoo Na-ri's doing.
My mind went blank. The way she'd treated my song, her intent—it crashed over me in a storm of emotions. The image replayed: a girl reaching out to pull the me from six years ago, locked in that room, out of isolation.
A fuzzy warmth I hadn't felt in ages. Gratitude, I realized.
She didn't know my full story, but she'd sent comfort my way. Only I, the original composer, could guess that intent.
To everyone else, it must've felt like a streamer's heartfelt confession—the pathos of waiting in her room for viewers.
The bittersweet, dark melody paired with Luna-ri's calm, sincere vocals felt like singing hope piercing the darkness. Had she planned even this? Chills if so.
Whatever the contest outcome, nothing could shock me more than this stage had.
Before I could even process, a message from Luna-ri popped up. A total scoundrel move.
Hm. What to say? Part of me wanted to grill her on everything, but I decided against it. I didn't want to ruin the emotions this song had stirred today.
So, a short impression it was.
The deep, heavy afterglow of Luna-ri's stage hadn't even faded when the lights came back up for the headliner.
[Whew, a finals-worthy stage as expected. Sion, please close it out for us!]
[Ahem, uh... maybe I shouldn't have listened to Luna-ri's song. Got a little teary, my throat almost closed up. Gotta sing quick.]
Short greeting over, Sion's performance began. Unlike her prior MR-reliant stages, a full live band session backed her up. Fierce drum beats and flashy electric guitar shredded the heavy silence Luna-ri had laid down.
Sion dominated the stage like a diva at a massive concert hall.
[Ah— Ah—— Ah——!!]
Triplet high notes not in the original blasted out, piercing the studio roof with super highs. Overwhelming volume testing human limits. Pure primal explosion, total contrast to Luna-ri's—adrenaline-fueled.
The perfect finale for the contest, arguably.
Chats and communities overflowed with reactions loving the flashy finish.
Sion sealed it with a spine-chilling whistle reminiscent of a dolphin. After that destructive stage that could revive the dead, the decision fell to the judges and viewers.
Real-time chat filled with cheers for Sion made it seem like the win was obvious.
[Then, Lilié first?]
[Suuuuck... I... umm...]
But the judges' groans dragged on, and viewers shared the same dilemma. Even the communities spilling honest takes started splitting.
The shy Luna-ri fans—who'd stayed quiet fearing "tone-deaf" labels for picking her over Sion's polished vocals—were starting to speak up.