InsomniaWL
patreon
Chapter 55: The Fluorescent Light at the Convenience Store
🕑 Added 2025-08-02 15:27:09 +0000 UTCThe comment left by the band NEW·world, and the many replies that followed under it, weren’t necessarily malicious or wrong.
While Kessoku Band’s skill level wasn’t low by any means, compared to professional bands that could confidently perform in front of crowds of thousands, they still had a ways to go.
However, Aoki Kei’s guitar playing and vocal ability?
Those could stand toe-to-toe with the pros.
So when netizens suggested that Aoki might be better off in another band, that he might find greater success elsewhere—it wasn’t out of ill intent.
They genuinely wanted the best for him.
It wasn’t just the commenters who understood that.
The girls of Kessoku Band were painfully aware of it too.
That’s exactly why, after seeing the comments under Aoki’s promotional video, they felt conflicted… deeply so.
Since that video had been posted, the mood in the band had dipped ever so slightly, like a faint pressure in the air that refused to lift.
The song “loser” had an undeniably solid composition.
Its melody, lyrics, and emotional depth were all close to perfect.
Combined with the rising popularity of “Suki-san” on Youtube, the promotional video had done its job.
Just as Aoki Kei predicted, loser, sung by Kita Ikuyo, passed the first round of voting.
They ranked second in audience votes just behind the explosively popular band Ges.
Ges had a massive fanbase and solid technical skills, but they were an unusual case.
Their popularity came less from musical merit and more from aggressive marketing and a carefully curated public image.
While not untalented, their success was clearly manufactured.
Still, they held a strong lead over Kessoku Band.
Interestingly, despite the high audience vote count, Kessoku Band’s scores from the professional judges were notably lower.
————————————————————————
August 6th. Clear skies.
Three days after the voting results were finalized—Saturday.
According to the contest’s format, the top ten bands were required to travel to a designated location for the final round of judging.
This final was not in Tokyo.
PVC Records had chosen Kyoto as the venue, specifically the Kyoto City Gymnasium located next to the company’s headquarters.
Traveling from Shibuya to Kyoto by train took about four hours.
At around 10 a.m., the band boarded the train, arriving in Kyoto by 2:30 p.m.
Their first stop upon arrival was PVC’s main office.
The Be Original: Rock Band Project Finals were structured over three days.
The first day was for settling in and drawing lots to determine performance order.
The finals were split across the next two days, five performances per day.
By sheer chance, Ges ended up with the final slot on Day One—a great position.
Performing last maintained anticipation and gave them the chance to leave a lasting impression.
Kessoku Band, on the other hand, drew the first slot on Day Two.
Not ideal, but at least it put them side-by-side with Ges in terms of visibility.
Regardless, with temperatures gradually rising in Kyoto, the long-awaited finals of the Be Original Project were finally underway, two months after the contest began.
Later that day, after being shown to their rooms, the girls went straight to rest.
Between the long train ride and the pressure of their first large-scale competition, exhaustion hit fast.
Aoki didn’t feel like sightseeing either.
The band’s mood had been somewhat off for the past few days.
While outwardly things seemed normal, there was a subtle tension.
The girls spoke a little less, smiled a little less.
Aoki couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to break.
After wandering for a bit by himself, he returned to the hotel, washed up, lay on the bed, and just… stared at the ceiling.
At some point, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
————————————————————————
Finals Day.
As previously mentioned, the structure of this contest was… odd.
Despite the judges having the final say, the event was open to paying fans.
The venue was packed.
In essence, it felt less like a formal competition and more like a condensed live show.
If a band failed to control the vibe of the room, they risked leaving a poor impression—not just on the judges, but on the fans too.
In short, winning wasn’t just about skill.
Stage presence and the ability to hype up a crowd were just as crucial.
The first performance began at 9:10 a.m., with each band given 20 minutes total.
There were three performances in the morning, two in the afternoon.
Judging for Day One would conclude around 3 p.m.
Once all performances ended, the organizers would rush to edit and upload the recorded performances to Youtube, aiming to capitalize on the contest’s hype.
But for Kessoku Band, that was a problem for later.
Taking things seriously, Aoki Kei and the girls arrived early—by 8:30—before the first band even hit the stage.
They spent the morning watching all three performances with focused attention.
To be honest, while all three bands had decent skills, their original songs weren’t anything groundbreaking.
Nice? Sure. Memorable? Not particularly.
If the remaining competitors were on a similar level, then Kessoku Band, with a strong performance, might actually stand a real chance of winning.
That hope remained… until the final band of the day took the stage.
————————————————————————
2:40 p.m. — Ges
As a band backed by capital and polished PR, Ges had more than just pretty faces.
Every member played their instrument with near-flawless precision.
The vocalist in particular stood out—not only outperforming Kita, but arguably surpassing the other bands’ singers as well.
And then, they delivered.
Their performance was tight, their original song—though clearly manufactured—was catchy, and their crowd control was impeccable.
With their massive fanbase, they didn’t even need elaborate MC segments.
Just stepping on stage sent the crowd into a frenzy.
By the time their set ended, any lingering belief Aoki had about winning… quietly vanished.
While the venue had rehearsal spaces available, Kessoku Band didn’t practice afterward.
Instead, they returned to their rooms for some quiet downtime.
Later that evening, around 8 p.m., the girls agreed to go out for dinner—at Nijika’s suggestion.
She was trying to lift the gloomy mood that had settled over them.
She also thought it’d be a good time to talk strategy for tomorrow’s performance.
They picked a yakiniku place not far from the hotel.
After placing their orders and settling in at the table… silence returned.
The air around them felt just as heavy as it had all week.
Kita Ikuyo was still weighed down by guilt and hesitation over the lead vocalist issue.
Bocchi-chan, too, blamed herself—for not being a better guitarist, for not syncing more perfectly with the band.
Meanwhile, Nijika had been struggling these past few days, unsure how to face Aoki after seeing comments from other bands under his performance video.
Ikuyo opened her mouth to speak several times, but nothing came out. Ryo remained silent.
Aoki didn’t know what to say either, and as usual, Bocchi-chan said nothing at all.
Eventually, it was Nijika who broke the silence.
Forcing a smile onto her face, she finally spoke.
“Um… just being able to compete at a venue like this is already a huge accomplishment for Kessoku Band. So let’s not stay this gloomy…”
Even though she felt more frustrated than anyone else.
Even though they had promised to give it their all—to fight together with the band for the top prize.
Even though they had vowed to carry on their senpai’s dream.
The silence lingered in the air.
After a moment, Aoki Kei took a quiet breath and followed up.
“This kind of heavy mood just doesn’t suit Kessoku Band. It’s not like it’s an all-or-nothing result. Sure, we might not get first place, but like Ijichi-san said—there’s no need for us to be so silent.”
But even after Aoki spoke, no one responded.
The air remained just as still as before.
And yet, Kei clearly heard a soft sigh escape from Yamada Ryo, who was sitting beside him.
Instinctively, he glanced at her.
Then he exhaled and said nothing.
When the food arrived, they ate quietly.
Nijika’s hope that one dinner might bring the band out of its slump was clearly too optimistic.
Aside from Nijika occasionally trying to start small conversations about tomorrow’s performance, no one else spoke a word.
Aoki couldn't help but feel a little regret.
He had done everything with the band in mind.
But no matter how he looked at it, their current state had something to do with him.
He stared blankly at the grilled meat in front of him.
He had told them before that being in a band should be fun—that no one should carry the whole burden on their own—but now, Aoki was forced to consider something else:
Because he joined, had Kessoku Band been carrying a pressure they never asked for?
Like now, for instance...
His thoughts spiraled, but before he could reach an answer, Yamada Ryo suddenly stood up.
“I’m going to get some air by the entrance.”
Snapped out of his thoughts, Aoki looked up just in time to meet Ryo’s eyes.
She quickly averted her gaze.
Without waiting for anyone to respond, she turned and walked toward the front of the yakiniku restaurant.
Watching her back for a moment, Aoki hesitated, then stood up as well.
Some gut feeling told him now was the time to talk to her.
“I’ll get some air too,” he said.
And before anyone could respond, he followed after her.
————————————————————————
It was early August.
Ever since the start of the summer heatwave, even the nights had been warm.
No more refreshing summer breezes like before.
As he stepped out the restaurant door, the first thing he saw was Yamada Ryo standing there at the entrance.
He walked up beside her, opened his mouth… but no words came out.
He had meant to talk to her—but now that the moment was here, he didn’t know what to say.
Casual chatter wouldn’t cut it.
Talking about music felt too awkward.
And as for comforting her…
Aoki honestly didn’t know how to do that—not in a way that would feel real.
Saying something like “results don’t matter” or “second place is still great” sounded so hollow.
Kessoku Band had worked themselves to the bone for this.
They wanted that win more than anything. Saying “second is fine” now felt like a lie—even to himself.
So… what could he say?
He fell silent, thoughts racing, when suddenly Ryo spoke.
“Kei-san,” she said, voice as calm and aloof as ever. “Judging by Ges’ performance this afternoon, Kessoku Band’s going to lose, huh.”
The tone was as cool and languid as always, as if she hadn’t been affected at all.
Aoki blinked.
Then turned his gaze toward her.
Her side profile was strikingly beautiful.
Though she was talking to him, her eyes weren’t on him.
Following her gaze, Kei looked across the street.
There was a convenience store.
It wasn’t very late, but the area was strangely quiet.
He was silent for a moment before replying.
“Yeah… Ges was flawless today.”
Ryo said nothing, falling quiet again.
Kei didn’t fully understand what her silence meant, but he had a hunch.
Ges was a band born out of corporate backing.
Their technical skill was high, but they weren’t a traditional band.
They didn’t play music—they played the algorithm.
Manufactured pop songs, formulaic hits.
That kind of music… Ryo didn’t like it.
And yet, that same band might win first place in the Original Rock Band Music Project.
First place.
Not just beating Kessoku Band—beating every band in the finals.
How could anyone not go silent after that?
Kei opened his mouth, but with nothing meaningful to say, he closed it again.
Until Ryo spoke once more.
Her voice was beautiful.
Usually cool, faintly lazy, and emotionless—but always with just a touch of hidden feeling.
Now was no different.
In that same voice, without even a trace of change, she said:
“It’s frustrating.”
The words sank into Aoki’s ears.
So simple. So familiar.
And yet, his heart suddenly thumped twice, hard.
All the thoughts that had been muddled at dinner suddenly came into focus.
“Frustrating.”
The members of Kessoku Band had given everything.
They wanted to win more than anything.
This had nothing to do with pressure. Nothing to do with whether he had joined or not.
They just—truly—wanted to win.
So—
Kei felt a bit stupid.
Kita’s hard work didn’t need to be validated by him stepping down as vocalist.
That kind of misplaced kindness… was actually the most irresponsible thing he could do for the band.
So—
Kei pulled his gaze away from the convenience store and looked back at Yamada Ryo.
Her side profile was beautiful.
“Ryo,” he said.
Then, “Do you want to win?”
She blinked, still gazing at the store’s soft fluorescent lights.
The summer night breeze was warm, brushing their skin with an unusual gentleness.
Then she turned to him.
Her light amber eyes reflected his figure.
She didn’t speak, but slowly nodded.
Seeing her response, Aoki drew in a deep breath.
Just saying those words felt heavier than he expected.
But he still nodded back.
He didn’t want to let their efforts go to waste.
So maybe… maybe he was completely unwilling to accept this too—
“Then I’ll sing,” he said. “For the losers.”
