Preparations
Kurogami Yui spun round and round in her chair.
“Tan-ta-da-dan-da~”
She had been disappointed about replacing Do-yoon’s part with AR, but now she would be able to put on a far richer live.
Is Yeong-il’s social anxiety not as bad as I thought? Well, this is online, so this much is probably fine?
They were under the same company now, and he had given her a wonderful song to sing, so she had poked at him a little by way of greeting—and hit this jackpot.
Yu Nari bothered her just a tiny bit, but since she was approaching him as a broadcast partner rather than as a man, she felt perfectly justified.
“Hmph! Yeah, yeah, work is work. He’ll keep public and private separate, right?”
How should she structure the song segment?
Yui sketched the flow in her head. As usual she would sing a few J-pop tracks or requests first; when the new song’s turn arrived, she would introduce A-il. A simple greeting, a short talk, then they would sing Spotlight together and he would exit. Ah, but before that the viewers’ curiosity would explode, so she should take a few questions too.
She roughly drafted the list and set down her pen.
Direct contact with Yeong-il was the first since the recording direction session. Back then he had led and she had followed, but the broadcast was firmly her territory.
This time I have to lead. Whew, I’m nervous.
Whether because he was such a secretive person, or because of the Yu Nari standing behind him, her shoulders gave a tiny twitch.
The moment the appointed time arrived she scrambled into her chair.
“Hello!”
“Ah, hello……”
“It’s been a while! I’ll be in your care!”
“Yes, likewise.”
Hmm-hmm, still awkward as ever.
“Shall we start right away, then?”
“Yes.”
The digital release had been recorded separately and mixed later, so they had never actually sung together. They decided to check first whether they could handle a live duet in front of viewers.
Yui logged into the remote ensemble program and laid down the backing track.
“For now, just freestyle it however we like?”
“Sure, let’s try that.”
The melody began to flow. The opening verse was A-il’s part.
Whoa—
A silent gasp escaped her. Yui’s eyes drifted shut. Do-yoon’s low, quiet delivery of the lyrics brushed past her ear. The mood was sorrowful, yet the timbre itself was clear, making it feel somehow even more piercing.
The live is already better than the recorded track.
She barely managed to shake off the desire to keep listening and gripped the microphone. As her part approached, her voice layered over A-il’s. They traded lines, resonated, added harmony. It was their first time matching, yet the overlapping sections fell into natural breathing. When Yui rose, A-il supported from below; when A-il stepped back, Yui filled the empty space.
“Whew…… What is this? It’s our first time and we’re already in sync?”
A bright smile spread across her whole face.
Ah, this is fun!
“No need to worry at all! It’s so good?! How about you, Yeong-il?”
She asked, utterly certain he would be just as satisfied.
“It’s good. The track felt exactly like this.”
“Right?! If we just keep going like thiiis, it’ll be fine!”
“……Hmm.”
“Hm?”
At Do-yoon’s slightly unsettled tone, Yui’s reaction froze.
“What’s wrong?”
“Well…… I think a live should have the flavor of a live.”
“The flavor of a live……?”
“Yeah. If it’s the same as the recording, doesn’t that kind of miss the point?”
“Uuuhm?”
Is that so? Wouldn’t people just like it as is? Of course making it special would make them like it even more.
“So you want to put some distance from the recorded version. But are you okay with that…? You might draw even more attention.”
It was a question laced with consideration, knowing he disliked standing in front of people.
“……If we’re going to do it, we should do it properly.”
Do-yoon spoke softly yet refused to yield, and Yui grinned.
“I like it. I’m in. So what should we try?”
“I was thinking if you put an ad-lib in the high part, it would pull people in more. How about finishing by jumping an octave?”
“Uh…… the chorus? That’s already high……”
“Don’t you have notes left? Looking at your other songs, you go plenty high.”
“I can reach it, yeah. But I think my breath might not hold……”
“I’ll lay the foundation underneath. Want to try once?”
“Okaaay.”
As the discussion of the song stretched on, the shy boy who had been hiding his face at the start vanished, overlapping with the figure who had directed her in the recording studio. His tone stayed quiet and gentle, yet the requests were precise.
“Try going up an octave here.”
“Yes!”
She raised it. Yui’s high note punched up through the accompaniment.
“Good. But what if you rest half a beat there and climb one more step?”
“One more step? From there?”
“When you sing Japanese songs on stream you hit similar ranges.”
Huh? He’s watched my streams before?
Curiosity flickered, but she nodded for now.
“I’ll…… try.”
Her vocal cords screamed, but the note went up.
“Oh, you reached it. Could you try pulling the volume at the end? Like the sound is rising yet vanishing.”
“Vanishing?”
“Yeah. Like a curtain opening and then closing again. Thinning out like a thread at the finish until it disappears.”
Yui squeezed her eyes shut and attempted it—climbing, climbing, then fading.
“……One more time.”
Once became twice. Twice became ten times.
“Put a little more of that crying feeling in there.”
“Yes!”
“Ah, make that part crack a bit more.”
“Yeees!”
“Good, but the timing’s a touch off. Half a beat earlier.”
“Yep!”
Practice time passed thirty minutes, then an hour, then two hours. Around the time she thought, Wait, is the room spinning a little?
“Haaah…… How was it?”
“Oh, that was perfect. The best.”
Only after Do-yoon’s okay sign finally dropped could Yui flop bonelessly into her chair. She hadn’t been forced. She simply came to and realized the time had flown.
I felt this before, but once music is involved this guy is merciless.
Yui herself was the type who held an unusual attachment to singing. And yet he had worked her without a single gap for two full hours until she was exhausted. He looked fragile somehow, and his soft, pleasant voice was easy to listen to—yet that very voice had drawn her all the way here before she noticed.
“Then for today, sh-shall we stop here. Let’s just roughly set the broadcast plan.”
Enough. She wanted to stop. She was desperate to break free of this flow and seize the lead again.
“Ah, yes. Let’s.”
“Whew…… Just one glass of water. Gulp-gulp—phew.”
She caught her breath and spoke.
“It’ll mostly follow the usual song-stream flow. Then when the new-song turn comes, I’ll go, ‘We’ve invited A-il, who featured on Spotlight—’ and clap-clap-clap, and you’ll appear.”
“Yes.”
“You introduce yourself, take a few questions and answer them, sing, say goodbye, and leave! Simple, right? Probably won’t even take twenty minutes?”
“Um…… I’m so nervous I don’t think I can look at the chat. Could you ask the questions for me? Nothing too sensitive.”
“Ah, got it. If we make the questions feel like the two of us just talking, you’ll be less shaky, right? I’ll handle it.”
“Thank you……”
The moment the topic shifted, Do-yoon began shrinking again. Even so, because he had started this he was full of the desire to do it well; the motivation was there.
“It is short, for sure. But do you think people will like it?”
“Of course they will. Originally I would’ve just put on AR and sung alone, but now I have a partner, right? And we even made a separate live arrangement.”
“I hope it stays in people’s hearts…… Ah! Thank you too, Yui. I should have said it first but I forgot.”
“Huh? I’m the one who asked you to appear, so I should be the one thanking you.”
“No, um, you sang the OST so well, and you messaged first, and I never gave a proper reply, so I wanted to say it even now.”
“Uh, but I’m the one who’s grateful you gave me the song……”
Even if it wasn’t a solo, having a track with her name stamped on it had made her so happy. And because it was something Yeong-il had made, she had been even happier. She had said she felt no romantic interest in Yu Nari, but as a composer his ability had been someone she admired from the first time she saw him until now.
“Ahem-hem.”
Her toes were curling in real time. Kurogami Yui was oddly weak against this soft, fluffy atmosphere despite her size.
This person’s air is so harmless, I guess?
He seemed to have a talent for completely disarming the other party with that gentle atmosphere.
So this is the kind of human who could charm Yu Nari with conversation alone?!
Yui convinced herself and muttered quietly.
“Scary. Super natural type……”
“Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”
“No, just talking to myself. Let’s stop here for today and practice again next time!”
“Ah, yes yes. Thank you for your hard work.”
Yui closed the ensemble program and switched to her personal channel. She opened the notice-writing window and tapped away at the keyboard.
“Whew! Done!”
Spotlight LIVE (feat. A-il)
She had publicly revealed the existence of guest A-il.
Yu Nari’s room.
Under the blanket. Still under the blanket.
So that’s what that scrap of paper meant? Uuuugh……
The memo she had picked out of the studio trash can. Words scrawled in Do-yoon’s crooked handwriting.
Yu Nari. Snoring. Mnya. Vocaloid.
She glared for no real reason at the note she had snickered over while pocketing it. Would it have been better never to know?
What had Do-yoon been thinking while he made the song? Or had he been so put off by the sight of her snoring that he lost all fondness?
“……Aaaargh.”
She yanked the blanket all the way over her head and drummed her feet. Embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing.
Thanks to the secretly retrieved memo she had learned she not only sleep-talked but snored, and she had immediately grilled Do-yoon until she obtained the original recording.
Keong… keup
Keang… mnya
“Heup—!”
The shock of confirming the original was beyond human language.
Wh-what is this? M-me? That’s me?
She had expected at most a cute little “mnya-mnya, zzz.” Once it entered her ears, every single “k” sound scattered throughout the song suddenly registered as snoring. Such a realistic noise.
Should I just die? Yeah, let’s die. Mm.
She stared wistfully at the window, then returned to the blanket.
“Heh-heh-heh-heh.”
If she posted on the community, “I let my crush hear me snore and he recorded it and made it into a song,” it would probably hit the popular posts. Nari snickered like a madwoman, then began grumbling at Do-yoon in her head.
Even so, I’m a girl…… It’s okay to be embarrassed…
The fact that he had recorded a lady’s private shame yet still acted so calm was downright annoying. But on the other hand—
Does Do-yoon like me too? That’s why he just went ahead and recorded it?
Alone under the covers, Nari snickered to herself. She spent the entire day shut away, swinging back and forth like that. On her phone, the Vocaloid song Do-yoon had made for her was meeting its several-dozen-th loop. Even though it was soaked in her own humiliation, it was still a song he had created for her.
And it’s good, which just makes me madder.
As long as she never said anything, no one would ever know it had been built from Yu Nari’s real snoring. The problem was that the person who had to sing it knew. She tried opening her mouth to follow along, but her face went scarlet in an instant; it was still too much.
If you’re going to put me through this much shame play, shouldn’t you take responsibility?
Back with Blackout Cat he had also dug up her dark history and turned it into a song. Just how deep was he trying to enter her life? Honestly, wasn’t this basically an indirect confession?
Nari pouted and glared at the missed-call notifications from Do-yoon on her phone. A full day of burrowing had passed. Fine. Time to reply. Not too kindly. Just enough to show she was sulking.
“Hmm, too short?”
She deleted it and moved her fingers again.
“This one sounds angry.”
If she sent it, Do-yoon would probably apologize for real, so she held off.
“Ha. This is hard.”
A call would be best, but her face was burning so badly she doubted she could speak properly. At first she had even shed a few tears. Nari timidly rewrote the text a few more times. Just as her brow furrowed because no phrasing felt right—
Ding—!
A Link app notification chimed. A new notice had been posted by a streamer she followed. The only streamer Nari followed was Kurogami Yui. Her thumb naturally tapped the popup.
“……Huh?”
This week’s new-song live will be with A-il!
She bolted upright.
The blanket was kicked away as she stood. Snoring, shame, the memo—all of it evaporated in a single instant.
Do-yoon’s going on stream??
Five minutes earlier she hadn’t been able to send a single line; now she sent one in a second.