I Just Want A Single Ending!

Seeing the resolve in Shiina Taki's expression, Chihaya Anon and Nagasaki Soyo decided not to say anything further.

She was the one responsible for the composition.

If she wanted to rewrite it, it was her call—not theirs.

Besides, Kamigawa Saku had already agreed.

With the discussion about Taki's decision to rewrite the song behind them, the band continued with practice.

They rehearsed "Spring Shadows," as usual.

---

After Shiina Taki announced her intention to rewrite the composition on Thursday, things seemed to return to normal.

On both Friday and Saturday, she attended practice right on time.

But she didn't bring up the topic of her composition.

Saku understood why.

It had only been two days; writing an improved song in such a short time wasn't easy.

Once Saturday's practice ended, they scheduled next week's rehearsal times according to everyone's availability.

Then, just as he had when learning composition, Saku dived into arranging.

Their next practice was set for Wednesday, so from Saturday night to Tuesday night, he had a full cycle for studying.

This "study cycle" was the maximum span for his short-term memory retention.

He'd based this off his previous experience learning composition.

It was, he supposed, the limit of his own human capability.

And so, his routine continued until Tuesday evening.

After preparing everything he needed, Saku focused and silently commanded, "Learning Card, activate."

With the one-hour study card active, he once again entered a state of profound comprehension, effortlessly absorbing and mastering arrangement techniques.

As before, Saku used this period to read as much as possible, soaking up all the knowledge he could.

Time passed steadily, and he noticed there were only thirty seconds left on the learning card.

At this point, as planned, he decided to try his hand at both composing and arranging in this heightened state.

But what should he work on?

Naturally, the answer was Ichishizuku Sky, Takamatsu Tomori's lyrics.

Mainly because he didn't have anything else with lyrics to work with.

So he decided to give it a shot.

This... might actually work...

The instant he tried composing, inspiration flowed like a flood, ideas coming together naturally to form a song, the arrangement completing itself along the way.

Isn't this learning card a bit... terrifying? It's supposed to be a "learning" card, but I can actually use it to create?

The moment that question surfaced, the learning card still enhancing his mind, he realized the answer.

The card greatly enhanced his learning abilities.

Which raised the question:

If you're studying physics and doing related experiments to understand it better, does that count as "learning"?

Or if you've just memorized a few mathematical formulas and want to solve problems to see if you truly understand—does that count as "learning"?

In both cases, the answer was yes. Both are forms of learning.

So in this context, testing whether he had fully grasped composing and arranging was, indeed, still learning.

In fact, as long as he believed he was learning, the card's effect would hold.

The term "learning" was broad, almost a conceptual state.

In theory, almost anything could be framed as learning.

Even something as simple as eating or sleeping.

For example, "learning" how to eat faster, or figuring out which sleep posture is most comfortable.

Once again, Saku marveled at the learning card's sheer potential.

After finishing the composition and arrangement for Ichishizuku Sky, he still had a few seconds left on the card.

He used this time to flip through a few more pages of his book.

As soon as the learning card's effect ended, Saku felt a sluggishness settle into his mind.

...Learning card... deactivated...

He slumped into his chair, feeling utterly drained.

The learning card's power was incredible, but the downside was that his normal thought speed now seemed frustratingly slow.

Maybe next time he earned a learning card, he'd ask the system to make the effect permanent.

Then, the card would be flawless.

After a bit of daydreaming, Saku sat up, ready to transcribe the version of Ichishizuku Sky he'd created in his mind.

Even just looking at it, he could tell it was good, but hearing it would be something else entirely.

Since the song was already complete in his mind, and with his professional-level composition skills, it didn't take him long to produce the demo.

He hit play.

"...Unbelievable."

That was Saku's immediate reaction.

He could use any superlative to describe it; this song had all the elements of true beauty.

Compared to it, the piece Taki had written was... well, it would be a merciless blow to her confidence.

A ruthless blow directed squarely at Taki's self-esteem.

She had already been rattled by the brilliance of Raana's improvisation and had only just gathered the resolve to start fresh.

If she heard this piece, the outcome was all too clear.

There was no way around it; this wasn't ordinary human talent.

It was an outright cheat, beyond the bounds of genius.

"Perfect. It's just... perfect…"

Saku played it again, awe-struck.

He tried to adjust one tiny part of it, only to realize he couldn't.

Any modification he made felt like tarnishing a masterpiece.

For Tomori's lyrics in Ichishizuku Sky, this composition was simply flawless.

No one could disagree.

Imagining Taki still working hard to compose to those same lyrics, Saku was even more determined not to let her hear this song.

After a few deep breaths, he prepared to transcribe the arrangement from memory as well.

Saku simply wanted to complete the song for his own satisfaction.

He had no intention of introducing it to the band, nor did he plan to release it.

A song like this would be too overwhelming for a high school band.

In this era, after all, going viral from one song was not out of reach.

But doing so would only demoralize Shiina Taki.

She was more important than fame.

Plus, he had used the learning card for experimentation, to explore its potential uses.

This song was simply the outcome of that experiment.

So he decided to keep it to himself.

Listening to it privately once in a while would be enough.

With that thought, Saku pushed through his fatigue and finished the learning card version of Ichishizuku Sky.

---

The next day, Wednesday.

When band practice time arrived, Shiina Taki walked into the studio right on schedule, still wearing her school uniform.

Strangely, despite looking fine, she was unusually quiet and kept making mistakes while playing Spring Shadows, a song they'd practiced countless times.

Even Chihaya Anon had started pointing out her errors.

And Taki, for once, didn't have a single comeback.

"What's going on with you?"

During a break, Saku approached her, asking with concern.

Hearing his voice, Taki flinched as if she'd just seen something terrifying, her whole body instinctively tensing up.

Finally, she responded in the softest tone, "I'm... just thinking about composing."

"Didn't we talk about this? You can take your time," Saku reassured her again.

"…"

Taki didn't reply, seeming to retreat into her own world.

Seeing her like that, Saku decided it was best to say no more.

But as he turned to walk away, he noticed something.

It was subtle, but... Taki's eyes looked dimmer, like they'd lost their usual spark.

Was it from staying up too late?

That didn't seem right.

For one thing, Takamatsu Tomori had strictly forbidden her from pulling all-nighters, and Taki didn't show any signs of it—no dark circles, no fatigue.

Having pulled a few all-nighters himself recently, Saku was pretty sure she hadn't been staying up.

Her health wasn't the issue, which only left one explanation: her state was a result of her efforts in composing.

In that case, he decided not to worry too much.

She'd get her spark back once she completed the song.

---

On Thursday, another practice day, Taki arrived in her school uniform, right on time.

But she seemed just as off as the day before.

Saku stepped in to explain.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that her eyes seemed a shade duller.

Was she really alright?

He decided to wait a bit longer.

If she was still like this next week, he'd have to step in.

---

Friday arrived.

Since it wasn't a band practice day, Saku decided to drop by STARRY.

He had just boarded the train and was fiddling with his phone when a few messages popped up.

Yahata Umiri: Taki hasn't come to school for two weeks now. Do you know what's going on?

Yahata Umiri: Is she still at home, composing?

Yahata Umiri: That's... a pretty long time, isn't it?

"Huh?"

Saku immediately sensed something was wrong.

How could she have been absent for two weeks?

Hadn't she shown up at practice, wearing her uniform, just a couple of days ago?

Wait…

Wearing a uniform doesn't necessarily mean she's been going to school.

What if Taki was just putting it on for practice?

In that case, something was seriously wrong.

If she skipped school last week to compose, what was her reason this week?

Was it still about the song?

But hadn't she decided to take her time?

This didn't add up.

And then... he remembered her increasingly dim gaze.

A terrible feeling crept up on him.

No, he couldn't wait any longer.

He had to see her now.

---

"…"

Sitting in front of her computer, Shiina Taki stared blankly at the composition software on the screen, her eyes empty.

I can't do it... can't do it... can't do it…

There was no way she could create a piece that could rival Spring Shadows.

That's right. She was absolutely certain of that now.

She hadn't been struck down by anyone; she had simply faced reality.

The cruelest truth there was.

An ordinary person couldn't surpass a genius through mere effort.

When she'd first decided to rewrite her song, she'd been full of confidence.

She believed that with enough effort, she could do it. She'd even taken Friday off.

Three full days—that should have been enough time to finish a new piece.

Unexpectedly, it only took her one day to compose the new song.

But to her dismay, she realized it wasn't even as good as the version Raana had effortlessly modified.

Thinking she was simply in a bad state, she went to sleep and tried composing again after resting.

But the result was the same. The song remained lackluster.

In fact, it only got worse.

At that point, Taki understood the problem.

It was... inspiration.

The song she'd written that Saku had called "not bad" had been created in a moment of inspiration.

But what happens when that inspiration fades?

The answer was obvious; those last two compositions spoke for themselves.

Her ability had reverted to her baseline.

A level that Saku could easily surpass with a quick edit.

Once she realized this, Taki tried desperately to recapture that spark of inspiration.

But, as expected, she failed.

Inspiration isn't something you can summon on demand. It comes and goes as it pleases.

By now, Taki had given up on writing a song that could rival Spring Shadows.

She believed that her ability to compose that first piece had depended on both time and a rare burst of inspiration.

Time was something she had. But inspiration? She had none.

In other words, there was no way she could compose something on par with the work of a genius.

She thought back to the bold words she'd said in front of the entire band:

"I'll rewrite the song!"

If she was going to rewrite it, then she at least had to produce something on par with her previous version, right?

Otherwise, what was the point of rewriting it?

But the problem was, without inspiration, her new compositions weren't even as good as that version.

The moment she realized this, she had to confront a truth she had been avoiding.

And that was her limit.

The limit of an ordinary person like her.

Everyone knows that inspiration can fuel composition.

Shiina Taki believed that wholeheartedly.

But the issue was, even with inspiration, her song had been something Raana could alter with ease.

Which meant that was her ceiling.

No matter how hard she tried, even if she was inspired, her work would never meet the standards of a musical genius.

In that instant, Shiina Taki saw reality for what it was.

Her efforts meant nothing.

She could work hard, harder than anyone else by a hundredfold.

But without a direction, without hope, it was pointless.

But Taki found no clear path forward.

Keep studying composition and hope to surpass Saku someday?

Impossible!

If she could study hard, couldn't he as well?

And besides, he was a genius!

He'd learn at a pace she couldn't match.

In short, as long as Saku was around, she'd never be the band's main composer.

The gap between a genius and an ordinary person was just too great.

And as for hope?

That wasn't hope. It was despair.

A flash of inspiration had given her a taste of catching up to a genius.

But the song it had yielded was… ordinary.

When she tried to continue, her inspiration vanished.

At this rate, she thought, it would've been kinder if she'd never had that spark to begin with.

That way, she could've made excuses.

She could've blamed the lack of inspiration for her struggles and continued fooling herself.

But now, she had no excuse. No reason.

All that was left was acceptance.

Shiina Taki's gaze finally went completely blank.

No one had discouraged her; it was her own mediocrity that had broken her.

She finally accepted that she was just an ordinary person.

After playing her inspired piece one last time, Taki closed her music software—and uninstalled it.

She'd only learned composition because she thought it would be useful if she ever started a band.

Now she had the band she'd dreamed of, and it even had Kamigawa Saku, a genius composer.

So why bother learning composition?

After all, Tomori always said she wanted the band to last a lifetime. If Taki kept studying composition, it would feel like she was preparing for the band's eventual breakup.

She didn't want that at all.

Better to leave composition to Saku, the one who could do it best.

Tomori's lyrics deserved that.

Since she couldn't deliver, it was only right to let someone who could handle it.

She'd keep playing drums, just like she had in CRYCHIC.

As long as she could stay in a band with Tomori, that was all that mattered.

Who cared about composing, anyway?

Then why… why did it hurt so much?

Taki shut down her computer, collapsing onto her bed, completely ignoring her phone that kept buzzing with notifications.

"Next time I see everyone, I'll just tell them I couldn't come up with a better song," she thought.

"Then I'll hand over the composition role to Saku."

"And apologize for all my recent mistakes in practice."

As she began to mentally prepare for the conversation, her doorbell suddenly rang.

It kept ringing, an incessant noise that frayed her nerves.

Irritated, Taki got up, walked out of her room, and went to the door.

Some pushy salesperson? Or maybe just some kids messing around?

Thinking this, she peeked through the peephole.

"Huh?"

Seeing who it was, Taki opened the door in surprise.

Standing there, looking particularly anxious, was Kamigawa Saku.

"Why are you here again?" she asked, confused.

"I came to help you."

After giving her a quick once-over, Saku's tone was resolute.

He only hoped he hadn't come too late.

---

Oh, you're still here? Nice. While I'm out here juggling revival matches and reminding villains why they should reconsider their life choices, someone's behind the scenes making sure my story reaches you. Gotta admit, they're doing a pretty solid job.

If you want to help keep this whole thing running smoothly, here's the link: [patreon.com/WiseTL]. Think of it as… supporting your favorite underdog. Everyone loves an underdog, right?

Anyway, time to get back to saving the day. See you in the next chapter—don't forget to stay out of trouble (that's my job).

— Xia Luo 🕸️