Inside the Tokyo CTSD recording studio.
"When I'm away, I will remember how you kissed me
Under the lamppost back on Sixth Street
Hearin' you whisper through the phone
"Wait for me to come home"
*Ed Sheeran's 'Photograph'
As the girl's final lyric faded into the headphones, the sound engineer flashed an "OK" sign through the glass.
Seeing his gesture, Hojo Shione couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh of relief. A gentle smile graced her lips as she stepped out of the recording booth.
But the moment she emerged, she was met with a sea of staff members all staring blankly in her direction.
Some even had their brows furrowed, their expressions impossible to read—somewhere between awe and something heavier.
Hojo Shione froze for a beat.
Normally, this was the time for mutual bows and polite pleasantries. The usual chorus of "You've worked hard" and "Please take care of me" should have been bouncing off the walls by now.
Instead? Dead silence.
Feeling the eerie weight hanging in the air, Hojo Shione didn't dare speak. She pressed her lips together and walked over to her manager, voice soft:
"Um, Miss Fukada... is something wrong?"
Before she could even finish the sentence, she noticed tears welling up in Fukada Fuyuna's eyes.
"No."
Fukada Fuyuna shook her head, quickly wiping away the moisture with her palm. She took a deep breath, trying to steady the complex emotions swirling inside her chest.
"Then why is everyone acting like this...?"
Fukada Fuyuna followed the girl's gaze, taking in the expressions on every face in the room. Then she looked back at Hojo Shione and smiled softly.
"It's because Miss Hojo, you sang exceptionally well. It seems I wasn't the only one moved by your voice."
"This song carries so much power. I felt deeply encouraged by you."
"It's simply tailor-made for you. If A-sensei..."
The moment those words left her mouth, Hojo Shione felt a sharp pang in her chest. Her delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly.
Noticing the girl's reaction, Fukada Fuyuna immediately clamped her mouth shut. An apologetic expression flooded her face.
She knew about Hojo Shione and Shiratori Seiya's breakup.
Back in the old days, when Hojo Shione recorded, he was always there. Always. It never would have been her job to offer comfort.
Even though half a year had passed, Fukada Fuyuna still hadn't gotten used to his absence. And if she hadn't... she couldn't imagine how Hojo Shione felt.
Sensing she'd touched a raw nerve, Fukada Fuyuna quickly lowered her head.
"I'm sorr—"
But before she could finish, Hojo Shione waved her hand. A smile appeared on her face—whether real or practiced, it was hard to tell.
"There's no need to apologize for something like this. I've already gotten used to it."
With that, Hojo Shione turned and bowed ninety degrees to the staff, her voice clear and steady:
"Everyone, you've worked hard. Thank you all for your care today."
As the girl's voice echoed through the room, the previously frozen atmosphere cracked—and then burst into warmth.
"You've worked hard, Miss Hojo!"
"I was deeply moved—it reminded me of my grandmother's lullabies."
"Hearing Miss Hojo sing this song gives me the energy to work overtime tonight!"
"Well then, Mr. Yamada, once Miss Hojo's new song releases, you can listen to it every single day while working overtime!"
"Hahaha..."
Laughter swept through the room like a wave, washing away the tearful tension from moments ago.
Even the sound engineer—a man who never seemed to crack a smile—was grinning now.
Ikawa Satoshi walked out of the booth, looked at Hojo Shione, and couldn't hold back his praise.
"One take. Miss Hojo, that was truly amazing. This song... it feels like it has the potential to become a real hit."
Hojo Shione quickly bowed her head.
"Mr. Ikawa, you flatter me."
Ikawa waved his hand, his expression turning serious.
"No need for modesty. I'm just speaking the truth. Miss Hojo, if I recall correctly, you have a concert next month, yes?"
"Yes, in Kanagawa..."
"A concert, plus these two songs. If everything goes smoothly, you should be able to firmly establish yourself in the music industry."
After Ikawa finished speaking—before Hojo Shione could offer her usual polite refusals—he couldn't help but ask one more thing.
"By the way... A-sensei. Has he really stopped writing?"
Hearing that name, Hojo Shione lowered her eyes. Her voice came out soft, almost a whisper.
"Yes. I believe so. I don't know the details."
"Such a shame. A genius like that... ah..."
Ikawa Satoshi sighed regretfully, but he wasn't the type to dwell on sadness. After exchanging a few more greetings with the staff, he took his leave.
With everything wrapped up, Hojo Shione sat in the car on the way back, pulling out the lyrics she'd read countless times from her handbag.
Her gaze fell onto the paper.
Oh, you can fit me
Inside that necklace you got when you were sixteen
Next to your heartbeat, where I should be
Keep it deep within your soul
And if you hurt me
Well, that's okay, baby, only words bleed
Inside these pages, you just hold me
And I won't ever let you go
Seiya... is this what you wanted to tell me?
Creak.
In the backseat of the car, the girl narrowed her eyes. Her slender white fingers clenched the paper tighter, her heart aching with a dull, familiar pain.
I've gotten used to having you by my side. Without your wings... do you really think I can still keep moving forward?
Isn't that a little too self-important of you?
The more you think that way, the more I won't let you have your way...
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Suddenly, her phone vibrated inside her handbag. Hojo Shione snapped out of her thoughts and brought the screen to her face.
A series of messages caught her eye.
Takahashi Mio...
Looking at the name, Hojo Shione narrowed her eyes, her brow furrowing in confusion. Her finger hovered over the screen for a moment—then she tapped it open.
But when she saw the photo the other girl had sent, Hojo Shione's brows relaxed. The corners of her lips curled slightly upward.
A smile spread across her face.
She typed back a single character: "?"
The message immediately switched to "read." A moment later, the dreaded "the other party is typing" appeared above.
*Takahashi Mio: "Who is this person?"*
*Hojo Shione: "They're so wrapped up in protective gear. I don't have superpowers like X-ray vision."*
Sitting in the dojo, Takahashi Mio bit her lip and typed back furiously:
*Takahashi Mio: "One of them is Shiratori Seiya. The other is a girl who practices Kendo. You know who she is, don't you?"*
Hojo Shione's smile widened. A look of satisfaction glimmered in her eyes.
The truth was—the moment she'd seen that photo, she'd recognized Shiratori Seiya instantly.
How could she not?
His height. His back. His shoulders. With or without protective gear, she remembered every single detail. She'd already etched him completely into her heart.
As for the person clinging to him in the photo? She didn't even have to think.
Hasegawa Saori.
Ever since she'd chatted with that fool on the way back to Kyoto and confirmed Saori's return to Tokyo, she'd been counting the days. The day before yesterday, she'd called her and told her everything—about Shiratori Seiya dating Takahashi Mio at school.
She could tolerate it.
But that didn't mean Hasegawa Saori could.
Let me see, Shiratori Seiya... are you really that heartless?
Since you think I can live perfectly well without you—that my career will be smooth sailing—what about this fool?
She's so stupid. Can you really just leave her behind?
A thought settled firmly in her mind. Hojo Shione bit her lip hard, her fingers flying across the screen.
Hojo Shione: "If it's someone who practices Kendo, is very familiar with Shiratori Seiya, and is a girl... it should only be her."
Takahashi Mio: "Who?"
I honestly felt like replacing 'who' with 'The name?' by Raymond Reddington from The Blacklist. I'm glazing that dude so hard i MIGHT write an original fanfic based on him.
Hojo Shione: "If I remember correctly... Hasegawa Saori. His first love."