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Chapter 100: She Really Lived
🕑 Added 2025-08-19 16:07:05 +0000 UTC[TL Note - The song its not mine]
9:22 p.m., Tokyo time.
Most people hadn’t gone to bed yet.
Amano Ryuu, age 25.
A struggling musician with moderate skill.
He had a small following on Yutube—nothing major.
His musical talent was average, and though he’d worked tirelessly for his dream, reality had worn him down.
Over the past year, he had gradually started giving up on music, turning instead to a busy, unremarkable life just to make ends meet.
But aside from being a musician— Amano Ryuu was also a fan of suki-san.
Even though he didn’t have much time for music anymore, old habits died hard.
Every night, he’d check the trending page in Youtube’s music section, keeping an eye out for new videos that hit the charts.
And that’s how he first discovered suki-san’s music.
It started with Lemon—the faintly melancholic lyrics, the emotional undertones, and the way the song gently urged listeners to treat the world with kindness.
That was what made him take notice.
suki-san was different from him— suki-san was a genius.
A true talent who could write something like Lemon.
Still, at first, Ryuu only thought, “I’ll follow this account, just in case.”
It wasn’t until he heard So I Gave Up on Music that everything changed.
That song... it resonated too deeply with people who once dreamed of making music.
The frustration and helplessness layered in the melody—Ryuu picked up on it instantly.
The first time he heard it, the 25-year-old cried through the entire night.
From that moment on, any time suki-san posted a new song, Ryuu would listen the very second it dropped.
Until recently.
About a week ago, rumors began swirling online.
Whisperings about suki-san, about the band suki-san was part of.
As someone half in the industry, Ryuu had an idea of what was going on behind the scenes.
suki-san’s band, Kessoku Band, had been chosen to collaborate with the movie Fireworks.
And almost the moment that news broke, controversy and smear campaigns followed right behind.
There was no way that was a coincidence.
No way this storm had no one fanning the flames.
Ryuu could tell.
But even knowing all that, he didn’t do anything.
Ghost Elements publicly stepped in.
Critics and influencers piled on with their hit pieces.
Ghost Elements’ fans jumped aboard the outrage train.
Online mob mentality took over like clockwork.
And Ryuu, with just twenty thousand followers to his name, wasn’t about to stick his neck out for a losing fight.
So he did the only thing he could—
Refresh suki-san’s Yutube channel over and over each night, silently praying that the younger, far more talented artist he admired would weather the storm.
Until tonight.
He refreshed the channel just like always, not expecting anything.
But at exactly 9:22 p.m., a new video suddenly appeared.
Its title was short. Just a few characters. Probably the name of the song:
“She Once Lived (生きていたんだよな)”
Simple.
And on first glance, completely meaningless.
Ryuu blinked in surprise when he saw the upload, then immediately clicked on it—no hesitation.
But before hitting play, he paused the video.
He had a habit.
Before listening, he always checked the description first.
Whether it was Lemon, So I Gave Up on Music, or Loser, every suki-san video came with a few lines that reflected the heart of the song.
Like Lemon’s poignant line:
“Please turn the sourness life gives you into something sweet, like lemon soda.”
Or the quote from So I Gave Up on Music, the one that had broken him:
“Dreams may be fleeting and vague, but please don’t stop chasing them.”
Reading those words before listening always made the music hit differently.
So Ryuu opened the description for She Once Lived.
But this time, it wasn’t just a poetic quote.
It read more like a brief story. Or a short, heartbreaking notice:
———————————————————————
“At some point, a girl jumped to her death.
It was probably because of bullying.
The apathetic bystanders, the cruel bullies, the rumors that can push anyone to the edge.
The bystanders carried on with their peaceful lives.
The bullies kept laughing.
Only the rumors faded.
At some point, a girl jumped to her death—and no one cared.
But still… She once lived.”
———————————————————————
Ryuu reread the words.
It was cryptic.
Clouded in metaphor.
He didn’t really understand.
He scrolled back up and hit play.
The video began like all the others—familiar setting, familiar guitar.
suki-san’s fingers gently plucked the strings.
The opening riff came in a little fast-paced, but in true suki-san fashion, it was immediately catchy.
Ryuu leaned in, waiting for the lyrics.
The intro looped once—no more than ten seconds.
Then—
suki-san began.
But he didn’t sing.
And he didn’t rap either.
No, it was something else entirely.
He strummed the guitar… and simply spoke.
Like he was telling a story. Calmly. Clearly. Quietly.
And the words—
They hit like a punch to the gut.
———————————————————————
“Two days ago, someone jumped off a building near here.”
(二日前このへんで飛び降り自殺した人のニュースが流れてきた)
“A bloodstained sailor uniform. A falsely accused teacher. For a moment, it became a trending topic.”
(血まみれセーラー 濡れ衣センコーたちまちここらはネットの餌食)
“‘Please step back. This area is unsafe.’”
「危ないですから離れてください」
“That warning only brought more people crowding around.”
(そのセリフが集合の合図なのにな)
“Phones out. Cameras flashing. The crowd buzzing like bees.”
(馬鹿騒ぎした奴らがアホみたいに撮りまくった)
“The indescribable redness of that blood flowing on the cold asphalt is beautiful and beautiful.”
(冷たいアスファルトに流れるあの血の何とも言えない 赤さが綺麗で)
———————————————————————
The tempo was brisk, the chords rhythmic and bright.
But the story—
The story was ice.
Each line built on the last, an unnerving contrast between upbeat guitar and matter-of-fact horror.
And when the final line came—
———————————————————————
“So beautiful.”
(綺麗で)
———————————————————————
—Ryuu froze.
Finally, he understood the meaning behind the video description.
The weight of those vague, poetic words.
He sat there, stunned.
Completely still.
The storytelling-like vocals, the upbeat rhythm, the bright sound of the guitar—and those gut-wrenching lyrics that came paired with them.
All three elements came together seamlessly, and in this very moment, Amano Ryu could only feel one thing— shock.
But before he even had time to process that wave of emotion, Suki-san in the video continued singing.
This time, unlike the earlier spoken lines, he repeated the word "brilliant"—not by speaking it, but by singing it.
And from that point on, the lyrics no longer returned to spoken narration—
———————————————————————
"Crying..."
(泣いてしまったんだ)
"Crying."
(泣いてしまったんだ)
"But the people outside the screen, Have no idea what's really going on!""
(何も知らないブラウン管の外側で)
———————————————————————
It was a stark contrast to the subdued narration from earlier.
With each new line, her voice rose in pitch, and the guitar accompaniment followed, steadily intensifying.
Until—
The tone suddenly jumped. The electric guitar blared, strings pulled with all their might.
Then came the chorus—
———————————————————————
"She lived, she lived, she lived, she lived, she lived!"
(生きて 生きて 生きて 生きて 生きて)
"She lived, she lived—she really lived!"
(生きて 生きて 生きていたんだよな!)
"That final goodbye wasn't for anyone else!"
(最後のサヨナラは他の誰でもなく)
"She screamed it for herself!"
(自分に叫んだんだろう)
“Goodbye…. Goodbye…”
(サヨナラ….. サヨナラ…)
———————————————————————
...
By the time the video ended, Amano Ryu was still in a daze.
It wasn’t until his phone auto-played the next video that he finally snapped out of it.
Instinctively, he reached to stop the current video—but paused mid-action.
That’s when he realized—his hands were trembling.
“She Really Lived.”
The lyrics from both parts of the song still echoed in his ears.
It felt as if Suki-san were right there beside him, strumming his guitar and sharing a story from just a few days ago.
The girl in the song—it was like she had really existed.
The way the song was delivered had struck him to his core.
The lyrics... were heartbreakingly raw.
Now that it was over, Ryu sat there, his emotions all tangled up.
He stared blankly at the screen for a while.
Then, suddenly, as if he’d remembered something, he exited fullscreen and reopened the video description.
“Indifferent bystanders. Cruel bullies. Rumors that could drive anyone to despair.”
“...”
Reading those words now, Ryu found himself breathing a little heavier.
Those lyrics from just moments ago came rushing back.
People gossiping. People spreading lies. People who didn’t care.
He understood now what Suki-san meant by posting this video at this very moment.
He still had his reservations—still hesitated a little inside.
But then he remembered the repetition in that chorus: She lived. She lived.
That chorus wasn’t just music—it was defiance. It crushed whatever doubts he had.
Music can convey emotion.
As someone who’s always chased his dreams through music, Ryu believed that with all his heart.
There had once been rumors that the band Ghost Elements would collaborate with the movie Fireworks.
He knew that band had heavy financial backing.
And now—coincidentally just when Kessoku Band was being buried under a mountain of slander, Ghost Elements was quick to jump into the spotlight...
Even a fool could guess what was going on.
Let alone Amano Ryu, who already had one foot in the music industry.
He refused to be a rumor-spreading bully.
Refused to be one of those fickle critics, changing tunes with the wind.
And most of all, he refused to be an apathetic bystander.
He wasn’t a genius. Maybe he could be overlooked.
But Kessoku Band and Suki-san were different.
This person who could create songs like “So I Gave Up on Music” and “She Really Lived”.
This person who could give strength to others through their music.
Along with the band walking the path beside them—
They must never be buried.
With that in mind, Amano Ryu made his move.
He first left a comment under the video:
———————————————————————
“As incredible as always. I’m so glad you didn’t let the rumors bring you down. This unconventional form of expression is already more than enough to silence the gossip. I’m looking forward to your next work, Suki-sensei.”
———————————————————————
Then, he saved the video, exited the page, and—something he hadn’t done in a long time opened up his personal creator dashboard on Yutube.
Ghost Elements. The corporate backing behind them.
The bandwagon-jumping online media...
Clutching his phone tightly, Amano Ryu took a deep breath.
He typed out his post, then hit send without hesitation.
No logic-laced arguments. No sugarcoating.
Ryu, who had been rocking out since middle school, spoke from the heart:
———————————————————————
“Ghost Elements, my ass. Built by money, and now biting back at Suki-san, a true original?
You guys got humiliated at the PVC event, and now you’re trying to get revenge, huh?
‘She Really Lived’—that’s Suki-san’s response.
And my response is: You talentless clowns aren’t worthy of being called musicians.
And to all the media fanning the flames—you’re all scum.
Fireworks chose Kessoku Band. You vultures better stay pressed.”
———————————————————————
And that wasn’t all.
As someone who still had a modest fanbase of 20,000 followers, he used his creator platform to post a follow-up, analyzing the backlash around Suki-san—and defending the Kessoku Band in the process:
———————————————————————
“To the people saying Suki-san is just a product of corporate backing—use your damn brains.
Suki-san is just a high schooler. Aside from his god-tier guitar skills, his vocals aren’t even on a pro level yet.
And he’s never once shown his face in any of his videos.
If he were a corporate product, you think they’d waste that marketing opportunity? No chance. They’d have plastered his face everywhere.
Looking at you, Ghost Elements.
As for Kessoku Band...
‘They don’t work hard enough.’
‘They’re not worthy.’
‘There are better choices out there.’
Bull. Absolute bull.
No one sees how hard they work, but the results speak for themselves.
And who the hell are you to judge who’s “worthy” or “better”?
Neither Suki-san nor the Fireworks production team has said a word.
You’re just some paid dogs barking in the dark.
The fact that he chooses to stay with them says it all.
Personally, I think the whole band’s amazing.
Rumors won’t hold up. They never do.”
———————————————————————
It had been a long time since he last posted anything.
But now, his dormant account with 20,000 followers was active again.
Around 10 PM, the post hadn’t caused much of a stir—yet.
But across the internet, Aoki’s “She Really Lived” had already set everything ablaze.
Those who had planned to stay silent...
Those who had planned to gossip from the sidelines...
Had started to change.
Yes, in just about an hour—
Aoki, with one song—“She Really Lived”—
Had begun turning the tide of public opinion.
