บท 7: Chapter 7 - "Dreamers Must Wake"
"I'll help with the editing!" A man says-, no, begs as he kneels. "I'll do anything for it! Please!"
"And I'll do the MV!" A woman chimes in, her eyes sparkling like stars as she leans close, her hands clasped together as if in prayer. "I'll make something that'll blow everyone's expectations out of the water!"
I inch back slightly, and shiver in slight despair as my back hits the wall of the recording studio. The man continues to beg, and the woman comes even closer.
I want to go home, I can't help but think.
…
It started out like this,
After taking a train to the more crowded part of the city, I reach the recording studio I'd seen on the internet. I come in, and a quick exchange later, I'm given the keys to my recording studio. I've rented it out for the next five hours, and I intend to make use of every second I have to warm myself up before I activate Golden Voice.
And I do. For hours and hours I sing, letting Golden Voice's passive guidance pull me along. I make mistakes here and there, but I'm quick to note them and correct them on my next attempt.
I spend four hours in that recording room alone, with nothing but the song played through the headphones keeping me company.
But by then I've noticed that I've hit a wall. I've fixed most of the minute mistakes, and only my E+ Voi remains as the thing that can be improved.
So I decide that enough is enough.
My song plays one more time, and my ears ring as Golden Voice activates.
I sing with all my strength, my voice sounding radiant, almost divine. It sounds completely alien to my ears that's gotten used to my unaided voice for the past few hours. But the strain it puts on me can't be ignored, and I hold onto the microphone stand like a lifeline as I struggle to keep standing.
My End and For might've increased since I last used Golden Voice's active ability, but the strain it puts on me is still monumental.
Once the song dies down, I can barely keep myself standing. My fingers are white as I clutch onto the microphone stand, and my throat is dry. I feel sick, but at least I haven't blacked out this time.
I suck in a bated breath through clenched teeth. I inch my way to the recording apparatus, and I let the recording play.
And even though I've just listened to myself singing moments before, I find myself taken aback once more. The weight, the clarity, the power—it's a voice that captures me from the first seconds. I let myself sink into the vocals, now overlaid together with the rest of the song.
My heart feels light. Because it's amazing. And to know that I'm the one that made this song? Sang it? It's-
"-glorious!"
I yelp in surprise, and nearly fall off my chair. I spin around to see nearly a dozen people watching from outside. There's even a man pressed against the thin window on the door, his cheeks squished into the glass. I gape for a good while, before I cough. "Uh, you can all come in if you want."
They do, and I'm beset by praises and awed gazes. I…recognize none of them, sans the guy I'd talked to to get access to this room. I do my best to be humble, hoping my discomfort isn't showing through.
Which finally brings me back to the present moment, with me trying to think through the pleas I've been given.
It seems quite a lot of people had heard me use my Golden Voice, and two of them have been particularly struck.
One is Goroshi Tomioka. He says he's a composer himself, but seeing as I've made most of the song myself, he wants to chime in and help me edit. I'm somewhat reluctant to trust this random person I've met, but the others seem to trust him enough.
The other calls herself Diva. She wants to make an entire animated Music Video for my song. And honestly I've sort of forgotten that I needed to package my song as a video to upload. I'm a little more inclined to trust her—considering she actually showed me some of the art she's done.
The issue is that they want to help me make the song now. Like, right now, in this very building.
I…really want to go home and just crash into my bed. I'm tuckered out, and the only reason I haven't stormed out is because I'm barely keeping myself awake.
They continue to plea to help complete my song, and eventually I-
"Fine." I sigh. "I guess I don't mind. Are we doing it in this room?"
"Absolutely~!" Tomioka spins and thrusts his finger into the air. "My inspiration is booming! I can't let the chance slip away from me!"
I nod. "Alright. I'll go down and pay to-"
"Done, and done." Diva grins, having pulled out a tablet and a stylus from who knows where. "This room is ours for the rest of the day."
"...you sure are pumped, huh." I turn to the rest of the crowd, waiting by the door and shooting not-so-subtle jealous glares at the two. "How about you all? I don't mind you guys watching, but I'm sure you're all busy-"
The crowd shakes their heads as one. "We're free too." A man says. "We'd love to watch." A woman adds.
I blink at the sight. It's…honestly kind of creepy.
I do my best to ignore them as Tomioka, Diva, and I begin working.
Providing input for two people doing completely different things isn't easy. Providing input while seconds away from falling unconscious makes it even harder. But I've worked in worse conditions before.
But I'm glad that Tomioka and Diva are as talented as they marketed themselves to be. Tomioka only needed the barest of help to harmonize my vocals with the rest of the song, and Diva only asked me on what the general themes I wanted my MV to have.
In the end, I end up staying in that recording studio until the late evenings. I get back home with only minutes to spare before my stream starts up.
Overall, it was an…experience, but at least my new song is now done.
All that's left is to let it loose on the internet.
…
Some six months after she debuted as a Streamer, Suzuki Aiko reached 300,000 Subscribers on her UTube channel.
It's a commendable achievement, and Aiko held a small celebration during the stream when she achieved it. But as that stream was about to end, Aiko dropped a cryptic hint as to the celebration she'd planned. "It'll be for a friend." Was all she said before she bid the viewers goodbye.
Many were confused, but for some of the most dedicated, they realized what it was that Aiko was promising.
The first time Aiko had done something for a friend was during her first karaoke stream. It was the first time Aiko showed that she isn't only a talented gamer, but also an amazing singer.
And so the viewers could only come to one conclusion,
It's a song!
So they waited eagerly for what was to come. And as they predicted, at the time when Aiko would normally stream, a premiere for a song was put up on her channel instead. Hundreds of people rushed into the waiting room the moment the premiere was opened, and more continued to come as the minutes ticked down.
"夢想家は目覚めなければならないから" it's called. Roughly translated as, "For the Dreamers Must Wake."
The title sounds somber, and those in the waiting room can only wait.
Seconds away from the premiere going live, there are over 20,000 viewers in the waiting room.
Then, the premiere goes live.
A somber melody plays. It's slow, ominous, and almost painful. Droning synths accompany the melody, sounding almost like whale cries.
A figure appears. They're humanoid, but their features are ambiguous. Their skin pure black, their face nothing more than scribbled white circles and a bleeding scratch in place of their mouth.
They look up to a fractured sky, covered by gray clouds. Their hand reaches out. Specks of black crumble from their gangly fingers.
And Aiko's vocals come. She sings of pain, of agony, of her gut boiling as if red hot coals had been stabbed into her stomach. Her voice is soft, mourning. But it's powerful too, vibrant and clear. It cuts through the somber melody like a hot knife. The song itself seems to slow, almost as if surprised.
Then the melody screams back. The notes become louder. The droning synths lose their calm. The song itself fights back against Aiko's singing, as if it's trying to drown away the pain she's telling to the world.
But she doesn't relent either. Her singing becomes even stronger, the soft tones weaving through and around the harsh, somber melodies.
And through it all, the ambiguous figure continues to walk. Their legs bleed with white ichor as they walk across ruined earth. The figure no longer reaches for the sky, their face turned low to the ruined dirt.
Suddenly, another thing appears. It's a raven, and it lands on the being's shoulder and pecks its head. The thing turns to it, and for a moment, the slashed line across its face dips into an almost-smile.
It walks onward. More crumbs of black spill from its shattered body.
Inevitably, its legs shatter, and it falls onto the earth.
The shouting match between the melody and Aiko's singing halts. The song itself stops, and the attention is placed onto the raven. It pecks at the being's head. It cries for them. It taps its claws across the being's shoulder.
But they don't move.
Aiko's voice returns slowly. Gently. The melody does too. It's soft—in mourning. Neither of the two attempt to one-up the other, and for the first time, both Aiko's voice and the melody run in harmony.
And then Aiko belts out the final chorus. She sings at the top of her lungs, pitched high yet clear and vibrant. It is her swan song, and the melody is there to hold her high. It soars along with her, accompanied by a thrumming bass and a beautifully heartbreaking synth.
The gray clouds part to reveal a shattered night sky, sparkling with a million stars. The being stares up, white ichor running down their scratched-out eyes.
The raven that sat on its shoulder is gone. But in its place is a hand, placed there in comfort. The owner of that hand is never shown, but for a moment, the video pans up to show a pair of black eyes.
The being stares at the raven. At the girl comforting them. They smile.
And the rest of the being shatters into stardust as Aiko sings the last note. The melodies crawl to a stop, and only the long synths continue to play as the video follows the last remnants of the being. Its stardust continues to rise into the air, sparkling like the stars above.
A final scroll of words plays across the video.
"To she whose name she lost." It reads, handwritten in katakana. "I can never know where you are now. I was too late, and only the stories you left behind I have taken. But please be safe. Be gentle. Be happy. May you close your eyes and dream across the infinite sprawl of the stars."
"And may you wake to a new dream."
The song ends. The video runs its course.
And nearly 40,000 viewers are left in tears.
Machigako: Aiko-chan!!!!!!!!
Kurusu-kun: Amazing! So good!
Neko11137: ah, Aiko…
Lelolelolelo: Sugoi! I have no words…!
Palieko: I'm in tears rn
The chat continues to fill with heartfelt praise for the song they've just listened to. And even more praise floods into the chat as the viewers scroll down to read the description of the video.
Lyrics: @Suzuki_Aiko Ch.
Vocals: @Suzuki_Aiko Ch.
Composing: @Suzuki_Aiko Ch., Goroshi Tomioka
MV: @Diva2271
It's amazing. Aiko had done the Lyrics, Vocals, and Composed the song! And to add to it all, she's an amazing gamer and a skillful entertainer!
In most people's minds, they can't help but ask, "Just what can't Aiko do!?"
Normally, that's where most things would end.
But Aiko's audience has never been truly normal.
All across Japan, other Streamers were there to watch the premiere live, and they're all floored by the talent shown. It's a song that would've been hard to sing for even veterans, and Aiko had sung it to perfection.
Inevitably, the song is shared far beyond the normal reaches of Aiko's fanbase. The streamers that'd watched the premiere gave their high praises, and the social media is ready to lap up the attention pulled by over a dozen streamers.
The song becomes an overnight sensation.
…
And through it all, Aiko herself is asleep, having drunk enough 100-Yen Sake to knock out an elephant.
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