Rather, this was the main point.
“There’s one more thing I want to talk about. About the band.”
“Right. If you were just poking your nose into the Instrumental Music Club’s business, and it wasn’t you, Konuma, I would’ve told you it’s none of your business and sent you packing.”
What was that? So she would have listened to me regardless?
Anyway, I had to make my second coming-out of the day.
Once again, I was imitating a certain someone.
I took a deep breath and told her.
“I… I might not be able to make music anymore.”
“I see. So it really is that…”
“Really…?”
I thought I was making a courageous confession, but that was a total anti-climax…
I wasn’t sure if it was necessary since Azuma somehow seemed to grasp the situation, but I gave her the same explanation I had given Ichikawa and Sako during the day.
“…Yeah, I thought that might be the case,” Azuma said, looking down slightly after hearing the explanation.
Today was the first time I’d seen Azuma since summer vacation started. Was it really written that clearly on my face? Isn’t that bad? Am I really a Satorare whose thoughts are leaked to everyone?
“Did you use your Mind Reading skill again…?”
“Hey, that makes me cringe, so stop giving me weird skills.”
Azuma laughed playfully before whispering somberly, “This time, it’s really nothing like that.”
“Then, why…?”
She let out a sigh that seemed to ooze with resignation.
“…I’ve stopped having fun writing, too.”
The words she let out while suddenly looking up at the ceiling squeezed my heart tight.
“You too, Azuma…?”
Azuma gave a small nod.
“My symptoms are the same as yours, Konuma. The meanings and emotions start crumbling away from the words I write as lyrics, and they just start looking like mere symbols. It’s like I’m in a constant state of Gestalt collapse.”
She explained while casually mixing in a Yuri-poem.
“Those metaphors of yours are as easy to understand as ever.”
When I honestly expressed my admiration, she tilted her head with her eyes turned upward.
“Hmm, maybe that’s because these aren’t lyrics?”
“Is that how it works?”
“That’s how it is.”
Azuma let out a cheerful sigh as she stretched her arms.
Then, she directed a cruel question at me. It was probably the cruelest one for Azuma herself.
“Hey, Konuma. Do you think ‘Heijitsu’ is a good song?”
I involuntarily caught my breath at that question.
“…What’s your definition of a good song?”
“A good song is a good song.”
I knew it. She was struggling. But.
“…To me, it’s an important song.”
“Of course it is, same for me. Obviously. It’s definitely an important song to the two of us.”
Azuma gave a lonely smile.
“You know how people often say ‘a work is like my child’? Of course your own child is cute. Because that song is mine and yours… no, if I say any more, about two people will get incredibly mad at me…”
She started mumbling something incomprehensible at the end. Don’t drop stuff like that in the middle of a serious moment… It’s hard to know how to react.
“Um, in other words, what are you trying to say?”
When I asked, Azuma apologized slightly for being roundabout and continued.
“I’ve written so many lyrics every single day up until now. And with ‘Heijitsu,’ I was confident I had written good lyrics. I thought I’d brought out the best of your song to the maximum. But, on the day of Rock On,”
She bit her lower lip and let out a breath as if mocking herself.
“‘Watashi no Uta’ was a hundred times more heart-wrenching.”
At those words, at that fact, I felt a tightness in my chest, as if it were being pulled from the inside.
“Even though I should be biased toward ‘my own child,’ you know? When I was watching the live and for the rest of that day, I was just happy that amane-sama could sing and that everyone got to hear the lyrics I wrote.”
Azuma continued to speak fluently.
“But after that, when I remembered the applause from everyone who listened, and how every single person I met only talked about ‘Watashi no Uta’… I kind of realized it.”
It was as if she was turning my own heart into words, one by one.
“Ah, maybe I’m the only one who likes this work.”
Azuma was taking the things at the bottom of my heart and thrusting them at me, giving them form one by one.
“When I thought about that, it hit me in a weird way. Like, I really don't have talent, or the opponent is just too strong… no, no, amane-sama isn't the enemy… all sorts of things were spinning around in my head.”
“…Yeah.”
“But after thinking it over and over, when I thought, ‘If that song changed anything at all, even just a little, if it moved someone's heart, shouldn't I be proud of that?’… I realized something.”
“What…?”
Even as I asked, I knew the answer.
Because we were in a relationship that only existed because of that.
“That those are just the lyrics to ‘Watashi no Uta.’”
Azuma flashed a dry laugh.
“Isn’t that a total defeat? I’m being encouraged by the truth contained in the song I lost to.”
“Azuma…”
Pathetic as I was, I couldn’t find a single word to say.
“Hey, Konuma. What do you think would have happened if the two of us were in a world without amane-sama? Would we have been spared from thinking about this? Would we have laughed together and said we made a great song?”
“That’s…”
Azuma shook her head.
“Just kidding. It’s useless to even think about it. Because if Amane wasn’t there, you wouldn’t be making music, and I wouldn’t be writing lyrics. I might not have even entered Musashino International High School in the first place, and in that case, we wouldn’t have properly met. ‘Heijitsu’ would never have been born.”
“You’re right…”
“Hey, is there even any point in a mere follower of amane-sama like me writing lyrics?”
…Stop it, Azuma.
Why is the great Azuma-neesan being so timid?
I was about to lose my words.
But.
I can’t give up.
‘Takuto, you can do it.’
Sako trusts me.
‘So, Konuma-kun, it’s a race! Let’s see who’s faster, me becoming able to write lyrics or you becoming able to write music!’
Ichikawa is counting on me.
“Hey, Azuma.”
“…What?”
There’s only one way for us to crawl back up from here.
“Will you write the lyrics for my song?”
“…Huh? Were you listening to what I just said? I told you I can’t write them.”
She had a full-blown scowl on her face now.
“Even so.”
“What do you mean ‘even so’… You can’t make music either, can you, Konuma?”
Azuma furrowed her brows.
“Even so, I will make a song by the school festival.”
“…Seriously?”
To Azuma, who was looking at me with a surprised face, I nodded as firmly as possible.
“But, is something like that even possible…?”
“You won’t know until you try.”
“And if you try and can’t do it?”
For the sake of Azuma, who was still asking timidly, I searched for the words that would resonate with her the most.
“‘You might not be able to do it even if you try, but you definitely won’t be able to do it if you don’t try,’ right?”
Azuma looked startled for a moment, then turned a bewildered face toward me. “Well, I guess that’s true…”
“And when I make it, you’ll have no choice but to write the lyrics, Azuma.”
“Why…?”
Azuma looked puzzled for a moment, then as if the reason had occurred to her, she flashed a weary smile.
“Oh, are you going to say again that if I don’t write them, they’ll end up being weird lyrics like ‘Daily Life is Good’? If that’s the case…”
“No.”
“Eh?”
I interrupted Azuma’s words and told her.
“For my songs, I don’t want anyone’s lyrics but yours.”
Azuma froze, her large eyes wide open.
Because it’s true.
Even our conversation just now proves it. She digs up all the thoughts I’ve unconsciously kept bottled up.
I don’t know any other lyricist besides Azuma who can put my emotions into words so accurately, even the parts I haven’t noticed myself.
“There’s no one but you, Azuma, who can write the absolute best lyrics for my music.”
“Me…?”
I nodded.
………….
……Um, well.
It’s a bit hard to explain, but Azuma-neesan has been standing there with her mouth open, trembling for about ten seconds since she said “Me…?”, and this is getting pretty awkward!
“A-Azuma…?”
When I called out to her again, Azuma seemed to snap out of it. She gave a slightly forced smile and said with a look of disapproval.
“…Say that after you actually make the song.”
“Well, that’s true…”
Yeah, Azuma-neesan really does say things that make a lot of sense.
While brushing it off like that, I did my best to pretend I didn’t notice that her eyes were a little watery.
“If the song you make is good, I’ll think about it!”
Azuma laughed as if she’d finally broken through something.
“Crap, look at the time. Let’s go to the fireworks!”
She pulled my arm and started marching toward the area for the handheld fireworks display.
“…You really are a bad guy, Konuma.”