InsomniaWL
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Chapter 20: Planning, Scheming, and Unexpected Events
🕑 Added 2025-07-30 20:20:02 +0000 UTCMay 27th.
Only a few days remained before Tokyo officially entered the rainy season, but the air had already grown humid — as if the season had quietly arrived ahead of schedule.
Always one to be prepared, Aoki Kei brought an umbrella with him on his way to school that morning, just in case.
Unfortunately, even after the entire day had passed, there wasn’t a single drop of rain.
In fact, ever since he bought that umbrella, it had hardly ever been used.
On days he brought it, the rain would hold off no matter how gloomy the skies looked.
But on the days he forgot it even if the sun was shining a moment ago, sudden downpours were almost guaranteed.
Slightly annoyed and umbrella in hand, he boarded the train home, feeling grumpy about the clear skies.
Since he didn’t participate in any club activities, Aoki Kei usually finished school early.
Today was no different — it was 3:20 PM when he left, still plenty of time before his part-time shift at the convenience store.
After riding the train for a while and arriving at his station, he headed back to his small 1R apartment.
Unlocking the door and setting down his backpack, he was planning to rest for a bit.
But when he turned on his phone and saw the YouTube app staring back at him, something clicked.
He suddenly remembered the video he’d uploaded a few days ago and hadn’t checked since.
Curious, he tapped the app and went straight to his creator dashboard.
Since the account “suki-san” had only ever posted one video, the moment the dashboard loaded, his eyes locked on the view count:
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[ “Lemon”] – Views: 2.4 million.
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He rubbed his eyes.
When he opened them again and confirmed the number hadn’t changed, a jolt of shock ran through him.
Just a few days ago, the video had around 300,000 views.
Without any promotion, with zero social media buzz, and with only decent video quality, he thought that was already close to the limit.
He never imagined the views would skyrocket in such a short amount of time.
At this rate, the video had likely made it onto YouTube’s trending list in at least one category.
No paid ads. No collabs.
Just raw quality and word-of-mouth and somehow, that alone had pulled in over 2 million people.
As the surprise settled in, a new realization struck him — the earnings from the video must also be incredible.
And he was right.
YouTube revenue is tightly linked to view count the more views, the more money.
And with over 2.4 million views, the withdrawal section at the bottom of his dashboard showed something that made his eyes widen:
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Withdrawable earnings: ¥200,000.
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Two hundred thousand yen.
That was more than his usual monthly salary from part-time jobs, which hovered around 180,000.
One video had earned him more than a month of hard work.
And to think, making that video had taken him, what — ten, fifteen minutes tops?
The difference in effort was night and day. And yet, Aoki Kei didn’t immediately celebrate.
He leaned back and fell into thought.
Even before he posted “Lemon,” he had toyed with the idea of making money through music, hoping to eventually quit part-time work.
After some deliberation, he had even sketched out a rough plan in his mind.
But there were risks.
He had no way of knowing if the mysterious “Romance Barrier Simulation Game” — the supernatural app that gave him points he could exchange for original music — would suddenly disappear.
He also couldn’t be sure the game would keep rewarding him, or that viewers would stick around once he ran out of songs.
Sure, converting points into hit songs and uploading them was a great short-term cash strategy, but it wasn’t sustainable.
His original plan was more long-term: use the first video to make a splash, then release a second one to go viral.
After that, he’d start building a persona — a genius indie songwriter and eventually rake in money by selling his lyrics and sheet music at premium prices.
Morally gray? A little.
But it would at least buy him some financial peace for a while.
However, plans rarely go as expected.
What Aoki Kei hadn’t predicted was just how explosively popular “Lemon” would become — or how fast.
In under a week, it had soared past a million views and kept climbing.
His inbox was now overflowing with messages, most of them praising his guitar skills, lyrical depth, and unique sound.
It was overwhelming and forced him to reconsider the order of his plans.
Maybe building a persona needed to come first.
But even as he browsed through the flood of messages, something struck him: aside from a few minor VTubers and indie streamers trying to buy original songs from him, no one major had reached out yet.
No big agencies, no sponsors, no deals.
Just... silence from the industry.
And that, too, was something he hadn’t expected.
Although the view count was impressive, unfortunately, Aoki Kei still wasn’t exactly famous.
To build a real following and attract the attention of well-known musicians, he needed more than just one viral hit.
Something like a steady presence, a growing audience those things took time.
After thinking it over briefly, Aoki Kei sighed.
He withdrew the 200,000 yen from his Yutube account.
As tempting as it was to pour all his energy into video-making full-time, he knew it wasn’t stable enough just yet.
Glancing at the time, he tried to shift his focus back to reality.
He was about to close the Youtube app when a video caught his eye.
Probably because he'd been browsing so many music-related videos lately, something new had popped up on his homepage: a video titled “Be Original / Rock Band Project.”
Curious about the odd name, Aoki Kei momentarily forgot his plans to head to the convenience store for work and clicked the video.
The uploader wasn’t some random indie creator—it was the official channel of PVCmusic, Japan’s largest record label.
The video explained a new project hosted by PVCmusic: a nationwide original band music contest.
The rules were simple at least three members in a band, completely original compositions, and after the contest began, participants had to submit their music by email to the official PVCmusic account.
And the rewards? Extremely generous.
Even without factoring in the impressive cash prize, just watching the video made Aoki Kei pause.
If he could enter the “Be Original / Rock Band Project” and actually place… then the plan he’d only just begun to draft.
—The dream he was still shaping in his head—would leap forward in a huge way.
But there were a few problems.
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First: He wasn’t in a band, which meant he didn’t even meet the basic requirement.
Still, that was manageable.
He already knew the girls in Kessoku Band, and they had even invited him to join before.
Aside from not being the most technically skilled, they more than met the contest’s basic entry rules.
Second, though—this one made him hesitate.
Even including the system’s scattered cash rewards and the revenue from “Lemon,” he only had about 300,000 yen saved up.
To seriously prepare for this contest would mean taking time a lot of time—off from his part-time job and maybe even from schoolwork.
And if he wanted to actually win, he was sure he’d need at least a full month of focused training and rehearsals with Kessoku Band.
That was assuming the girls even agreed to compete in the first place.
Giving up his part-time income and relying solely on his savings to chase a chance at victory…
He let out a breath.
The calculations didn’t give him a clear answer.
Thankfully, the contest wasn’t starting right away.
Shaking his head, he bookmarked the video and shut his phone.
It was nearly 4 PM—if he didn’t hurry, he’d be late for work at the convenience store. After a quick cleanup, Aoki Kei headed out the door.
The sky was still heavy and damp, but this time, he left his umbrella behind.
As he boarded the train and stared out the window, the scenery rolled by in silence.
Then, quietly, raindrops began to tap against the glass.
