I Met a Delinquent!
Animation OSTs don't usually attract top-tier composers or singers. That's just how it works—you're not singing your own song; you're crafting something that fits the show.
Especially for anime, the promo effect is pretty negligible most of the time, so there's no reason for big names to jump on board. And from the production side, they had no incentive to shell out for a famous vocalist just to force it.
That said, things are starting to shift a bit.
The tide would turn gradually in the future, but this track that had just landed in my lap didn't feel like it had any serious budget behind it.
The instrumentation and MIDI setup were laughably simplistic, and the vocals were just meh.
"But that topline is killer."
Sometimes you get songs like this—one standout element, and the rest is disastrously bad.
The monitor's blue glow lit up my face, and through the headset flowed the anime OST that Soyujin had recommended.
I broke down all the tracks first. That telltale 2000s cheesiness with the childish synths and pounding, unrefined drum beats that just barreled along.
"This is rough."
I deleted the tracks without a second thought. The song's biggest flaw was its flat composition, totally lacking any tension.
I decided to go with symphonic rock. I'd leverage the contrast between grand orchestral swells and sharp electric guitar edges.
First, I pulled up a massive string section from my virtual instrument library.
I layered in the contrabass's deep lows and the violins' biting staccato scrapes.
Then I cranked the tempo from 95 up to 140.
"Gotta hit this part with more bombast."
I piled on timpani and chorus sounds to inflate the spatial depth massively.
Right through that wall of massive sound, I slammed in a razor-sharp distorted guitar riff.
I structured it dramatically: the orchestral onslaught crashes in, then suddenly drops away, leaving just electric guitar and my voice.
"Whew..."
I crunched down on the candy I'd been sucking on, spitting out the juice in my mouth.
But the overwhelming cheap sweetness made me grimace.
"Still... it's basically a whole new song now."
In the finished arrangement, only the topline remained untouched; everything else had vanished without a trace.
When the arranging hit its final stages, I stepped up to the mic.
I hummed a soft guide vocal, layering it over the explosive orchestral sound.
That fragile soprano slicing through the gritty rock—the dissonant thrill of it.
"...Not bad."
Beautiful orchestra meets destructive rock, topped by a 9-year-old's pure voice. It was like flames bursting through stained glass in a cathedral.
"Hmm, but something's still missing."
The overall quality was solid, but it could've used some special hook that meshed perfectly with my voice.
"Eh, it's the mentoring round anyway. I can bounce ideas off my mentor."
I thought it over lightly and shut the laptop, heading out of the room.
It was 7:30 a.m. now.
I'd crashed early last night, so I woke up super early and tinkered with the arrangement before breakfast.
But it felt better than expected, so I made way more progress than planned.
Once Soyujin wakes up, I should play it for her.
I wasn't married to this version anyway. If the feedback sucked, I'd rework it on the spot.
That's just how composing and arranging goes—endless revisions are routine.
As I stepped out, the muggy, unpleasant early summer dawn air wrapped around me.
I figured a quick walk might clear my head, but...
"Argh. Cigarettes... already."
Why were there so many smokers lately? Did they really want to puff away in a place with kids like me and underage Blooming members around?
And it wasn't even a vape—it was a real analog cig.
Curious who the hell was chain-smoking at this ungodly hour, I followed the drifting smoke to the corner.
"Huh?" "Oh... ah. Haha... Siyeon, you're up already?"
There stood Baek Yuyeon, her innocent face twisted in a awkward smile.
Her pack was that blue one starting with M—pretty harsh stuff for someone her age, I thought as I opened my mouth.
"Smoking something that strong this early... it'll wreck your voice."
"Ahaha! This is already wrecked. I've been at it since way back."
"...For real?"
Her voice was husky, sure. But it wasn't that raspy, unpleasant smoker scrape, so I'd assumed it was natural...
Hold up. Thinking about it, Baek Yuyeon was barely in her early 20s.
For her voice to be this roughed up from smoking meant...
"...How long exactly have you been smoking?" "W-Well? Like... ten..."
She held up ten fingers.
"Sixteen...? You mean since middle school?"
Even by Evergreen Sky Nursery standards, this was top-tier delinquency... no, second-tier maybe. For normal folks, it was off-the-charts level zero. Middle school booze and smokes? Not easy.
"I-It's 'cause I'm from the same neighborhood as you, Siyeon. Ahaha..." "Doesn't mean everyone's a smoker."
No matter how trashy this area was, not everyone was pounding cigarettes.
Looked like Baek Yuyeon had been a real troublemaker back in school. Hard to picture with her sweet looks.
But that's not the point.
I wasn't gonna blast her online as a former thug. Who cared if she smoked or not?
What mattered was I now had someone right in front of me to play that fresh arrangement for.
"Whatever. Everyone's got their vices." "N-No! You absolutely can't start, Siyeon!" "Anyway, wanna hear the song I arranged since dawn?"
She nodded quietly.
To Baek Yuyeon, Seo Siyeon was one weird kid.
Anyone would think that, but from her vantage point, Siyeon was especially fascinating.
Baek Yuyeon had grown up in the same neighborhood as Siyeon from childhood through high school graduation—even graduated from the same elementary school.
So she knew plenty of Evergreen Sky Nursery kids among her friends and acquaintances.
Hanging with the bad crowd, chain-smoking and all, meant she inevitably ran with rough types—and those groups always had orphanage kids at the core.
And the nursery delinquents she'd rolled with back then? Straight out of some manhwa by that Kim guy—90% of the guys turned gangster, girls into hookers.
Of course, even in that mess, some nursery kids grew up straight and narrow.
But a kid like Siyeon—mature beyond her years with actual genius? That was a total shocker from such an environment.
"It's that anime opening from yesterday."
Siyeon fiddled with the laptop, and soon an unexpected melody poured from the cheap speakers.
"Hm? Orchestra?" "Yeah. You caught it right away."
Baek Yuyeon forgot to even stub out her cigarette, leaning in toward the laptop speaker.
Bursting through the cheap speaker's hiss and crackle was something worlds apart from the lightweight anime theme Soyujin had played yesterday.
From the intro: violins stabbing with nerve-grating staccato, then a heart-pounding swell of massive strings.
"This is... that song?"
Baek Yuyeon's lips trembled faintly.
As it hit the midpoint, a shredding distorted guitar crashed into the orchestral storm.
It could've turned into a muddy mess, but Siyeon's balance was near-perfect. Sharp aggression alive within the grandeur—the textbook orchestral arrangement.
And when the guide vocal finally emerged, goosebumps prickled Baek Yuyeon's skin.
Siyeon's soprano piercing the whirlwind storm of sound. Like a small, sturdy glass bottle bobbing on raging waves—precarious yet unbreakable, amplifying the song's epic resolve.
"Siyeon... how many hours did this really take?"
Even after the music faded into silence, Baek Yuyeon stared blankly at the laptop screen for a long moment.
She couldn't believe a sensation like this could be born from that gray, hopeless slum where mildew seemed to be the only thing thriving.
Or maybe that's exactly why geniuses emerge from places like that.
This wasn't just talent—it transcended that by miles.
"Told you. I just tweaked it before breakfast."
Siyeon snapped the laptop shut like it was no big deal.
"If a 'quick tweak' gets you this... what happens if you really commit the time?" "Eh, probably about the same even if I go all-in. I'm pretty fast at this stuff. But right now, it feels like something's missing. What do you think? Any part feel kinda flat?"
Baek Yuyeon swallowed a hollow laugh.
Flat? This track could roll in movie credits tomorrow and hold up fine—it was packed tight.
Still, having sung and heard countless OSTs like this, she got what Siyeon meant.
"The pre-chorus, right?" "Spot on. It does feel a bit lacking, yeah?"
If you nitpicked, it was a minor blemish on jade.
Dragging a bog-standard anime OST to this level was miraculous in itself.
"I-I dunno?"
But she had zero expertise in composing or creation.
She could spot the gap, but filling it? No instinct for that.
"...Too bad."
Still, getting hit with that disappointed elementary-schooler stare straight-up stung a little.