The Calm Before the Storm

Yu Nari's days were packed.

Yesterday had been busy. The day before that, too. Tomorrow would be no different.

Blackout Cat had cracked the top twenty on the Mellow chart, landing at number nineteen, and the rest of her tracks were climbing steadily instead of falling off. Thanks to that momentum, advertising offers and event inquiries poured in despite her being a virtual streamer—so many that sorting through them had become a job in itself.

The busyness had melted into her routine; she had reached the stage of finding a kind of calm inside it. Lately, though, that calm had not been whole.

Is he working on a song? A new one?

Do-yoon's messages had grown sparse. Usually he answered almost as soon as she sent one; these days the replies lagged by hours. Their schedules rarely lined up, so even their calls had gotten shorter.

Still…

Busy was busy. Do-yoon was not the type to hide things.

She let it go, consoling herself that artists—especially ones with a gift like his—needed time alone.

Today's the day he's directing a recording session. I wonder if they're talking right about now…

At last, it was the recording day for Kurogami Yui's OST.

Yui was going to hear Do-yoon's voice.

Something about that sat wrong.

Will she figure out the male part on the guide version is him? I wanted that to be my secret…

The moment the day arrived, a strange queasiness rose in her stomach, and she had to work to scatter the feeling. She needed to get used to this. Do-yoon might look fragile, but he was not an actual child; coming out of that room was a process everyone had to go through. If she had promised to help from the sidelines, then quietly cheering him on was part of the deal.

But did the other person have to be a woman streamer he used to watch all the time? The thought invaded again, and she shook her head hard from side to side.

I'm just worried about him. Yeah. He hates talking to strangers.

Around now, Yui would be recording at the studio. And the moment the session ended, a real-life joint stream between Yui and Lunari was scheduled. Their calendars had been so packed that they had spent days coordinating and finally settled on the day Yui finished recording. Tight, but there had been no other choice. Wanting to meet as soon as possible had left them with only this date.

The reason she had rushed it was absolutely not curiosity about what might have happened—only curiosity about how the song had turned out, and how Yui had sung it. That was all. Yu Nari clenched her fist as if swearing it to herself.

While she was still half out of her mind, Han So-yeong returned from a brief absence.

"We need to pick the outfit now. Oh—and the advertiser asked whether those animal ears can come off. What should I tell them?"

"They're part of my identity. Do I really have to take the ears off?"

"The ad rate is quite high."

"…I'll talk it over with Yeong-il, too."

Around the time their meeting on avatar wardrobe direction and the ad concept wound down, Han So-yeong added lightly,

"Nari, you said you've never met the composer in person, right?"

"Not yet."

A little extra weight landed on the word yet.

"Mm. I see. Understood."

So-yeong had something she wanted to ask, but it was personal information of a sort, so she chose not to press. Instead she steered elsewhere.

"Oh, by the way, Nari—Yeong-il's vocal recording came out really well. Have you heard it? The old guide was recorded ages ago, so doing it properly in the studio made a clear difference."

Yu Nari's hands stopped.

Recording?

"You mean Yui unnie? She's recording right now, isn't she? It's already over?"

"Hm? No—the composer."

"…?"

"The rough mix quality was good, too. If they wrap the recording like this, it'll be finished in no ti—"

"Wait."

Yu Nari cut her off, eyes confused.

"What do you mean Do-yoon recorded something?"

The slip into his real name was enough to make So-yeong pause.

"Ah… yes. Kim Do-yoon—that is, Producer Yeong-il—came to the studio three days ago and recorded. For the web-drama OST."

Yu Nari's mind went blank.

Yeong-il had recorded?

Recorded what?

No—Do-yoon had come to the studio?

Why?

Three days before Kurogami Yui's recording session.

Yui had been clinging to the guide file Lunari had sent her, drilling the part over and over. Yeong-il's OST—the female lead-vocal line. She had been told the male part would be swapped out for a singer called A-il, but she still had not received the replacement version. So she had asked her MCN manager.

As if I didn't know that. I'm asking whether I can get the updated version or not.

Five hours later, the answer arrived.

"Ugh."

Unsatisfactory, but she let it go. The melody was the same, so practicing with the guide would still work. She honestly had no idea what this MCN even did as a middleman. Scheduling streams and handling ad contacts were fine enough—but outside of live broadcasting they were completely useless. Music distribution and outside project management were all but impossible, which was why, with some embarrassment, she had left those to Muse Family.

Would she ever even release a single song under this place?

Before, she had blamed her own mindset for never landing a track. Looking back, she had a feeling this MCN would have made releasing music nearly impossible either way. Two years here had built some attachment…

Maybe I should switch.

She set the grievance aside and turned her focus back to practice.

.

.

.

I must be cursed.

The moment she stepped outside, unpleasant things had an uncanny habit of finding her.

"Sorry about earlier…"

"I heard you. Just show me the way."

Kurogami Yui ignored Park Gi-dong's attempt at conversation and strode coldly toward the studio.

It was her first recording, and she had been so excited she had arrived a full hour early. Wanting to make a good impression—and to look around the building—she had gone straight to the Muse Family office.

"Huh? Kid, you can't just wander in here. And if you want to be a celebrity, IG Entertainment is about ten minutes that way. Go try your luck there."

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"…Excuse me?"

"Being diligent and desperate for a trainee spot is fine, but at your age you should be polishing your skills and taking proper auditions. That matters more~ I've been in this industry a long time, so I know~ Mm? And eat properly. You still need to grow."

She had walked into the office only to find some young guy half-reclined in a chair, answering her like that.

"Hey. How old are you supposed to be."

"…'Hey'? Wow, kids these days. Which middle school do you go to? Before I call your school—"

When Park Gi-dong stood up and reached out to usher Kurogami Yui outside, she bit down hard on his hand.

"—Ack! Aaaaaagh—! Let go—you crazy—!"

"What—what is that noise?"

"Noonaaaaa! Save meee—there's a cannibal middle-schooler—! Aaaaah let go let go—!"

Only after Han So-yeong returned from the bathroom did the situation finally settle.

"You better watch yourself-eu. I memorized your face."

"You put holes in my hand—isn't that enough—ah! Why are you hitting me?"

"Aigoo, this idiot, quiet. I'm sorry. I'll apologize on his behalf. Ha…"

Leaving Gi-dong sniffling and muttering behind them about how "all VTubers are complete lunatics," Han So-yeong and Kurogami Yui made small talk and broke the ice.

Which brought them to now.

Recording time had arrived, so she was reluctantly heading to the studio with Park Gi-dong, who had to play the role of Do-yoon's avatar stand-in.

Thank god this guy isn't Yeong-il.

Yu Nari's serious face was terrifying enough, but if this one had been Yeong-il, Yui would have torn the whole arrangement apart and called it off.

"You can go in there. I've already connected the composer, so you'll hear him once you're inside."

Yui entered the booth as instructed, put on the headphones, and sat down. Directing was remote, then. She had hoped she might actually see his face, but apparently not. She was curious what kind of person had caught Yu Nari's interest; a shame.

A moment later, static crackled through the headphones.

Do-yoon's voice made Yui flinch.

"Annyeonghaseyo! I'll be in your care!"

Low and quiet, yet it clung to the ear. It should have felt unfamiliar—and somehow it did not. One conviction settled in her chest.

Is Yu Nari just weak to voices?

How could someone get that attached without ever seeing a face? That secret seemed a little clearer now.

"Ah—yes!"

Focus on the recording.

Yui ran through the part a few times as she had practiced, then sang it every which way according to Do-yoon's directions—while deliberately ignoring the strange sense of dissonance that rose ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every time she heard his voice.

Several more takes later—

"Okay, I'll try."

Something was not landing for him; the OK would not come easily. Just as Yui's confidence began to fray—

Do-yoon sang the part himself.

"Huh?!"

That exact tone. That exact color. The one from the guide vocal.

"Ah—no, no. One second? But, um…"

The source of the dissonance she had felt listening to Composer Yeong-il's voice finally clicked into place.

"Yeong-il—you were the guide vocalist on this track?"

"Wow! I kept thinking I'd heard that voice somewhere—so it was here. Hahaha, I never even thought of it-eu."

Wow, he can sing, too. No wonder he reeled Yu Nari in!

"It's a shame. I really liked the composer's featured version. I wish it could have stayed like that."

She meant it. She had heard the song dozens of times a day while practicing. His tone fit the track perfectly. But she had been told the male feature would be replaced by a singer named A-il, so she delivered the regret in full—only for him to answer:

"Ah…"

Wait wait wait.

What was he saying?

So Composer Yeong-il himself was singing the featured part—under the name A-il? That was why the guide version had never been replaced and had simply become the final.

Damn MCN idiots. What kind of communication had they been doing in the middle? "Practice with the guide version" was supposed to mean the guide singer was still on the track—they should have said so.

She cooled the seething in her gut and sorted the facts—then something snagged in her chest.

Wait.

But why didn't Yu Nari know?

Nari had said it clearly at the café: the male feature was going to be swapped for someone else. And she had said she and Yeong-il called often enough that there was no way she wouldn't recognize that voice and that singing—yet she had never told Yui that the person in the guide vocal was Yeong-il.

She hadn't wanted to share Yeong-il's voice. From everything Yui had seen of Nari's personality, it would have been a cute little jealousy.

But what was the point of hiding it? If the singer was Yeong-il, Yui would find out the moment ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they recorded and directed together.

Nari was not someone who would miss that.

Which meant—

Does Nari not know the vocal isn't being replaced?

The cool expression Nari had worn when she yielded the song. The probing look when she asked, What kind of person do you think Yeong-il is? The way her face had relaxed the instant Yui said she wasn't interested. Anyone could see Nari had feelings for that man.

"Ah…"

Yui had done nothing wrong. And yet somehow she felt like she had built a secret with the man her friend liked—and cold sweat threatened to break out.

Would Nari believe her if she said she hadn't known Yeong-il was A-il, and that she would be singing with him, until right before the session?

…Does that even sound believable? Ha. If those MCN idiots had just passed the message properly…

Yu Nari's face rose in Yui's mind. The usual bright smile gone. Eyes narrowed cold. Lips pressed tight.

Why didn't you tell me?

Unnie, you said you weren't interested.

The voice rang in her ears. Only imagination—and still, goosebumps rose.

Yui prayed hard.

Please let Nari already know. Yeong-il must have told her. They were in frequent contact. There was no way he would have left something like this out.

Anxiety crept up her spine. The moment this recording ended, she had to go meet Nari in person for the joint stream.

Ah, please.

Yui poured every scrap of cosmic energy she had into the question.

"Um, Yeong-il—does Nari know? That you're taking the featured part?"

Gulp.

"Oh—"

"…"

And now she had to go do a joint stream.

I'm doomed.