I Just Want A Single Ending!

The rain seemed as if it would never end, pouring down in an unbroken sheet.

For most people, facing weather like this, there's no way they'd want to be outside wandering around in it.

Kamigawa Saku, a thoroughly ordinary person, shared the same sentiment.

But, circumstances being what they were, he found himself walking in the rain.

Looking at Takamatsu Tomori standing beside him, Saku carefully considered how to begin.

Now that he understood why she was so anxious about not being able to write lyrics, he knew he had to find a way to help her.

That was, after all, his purpose for today.

But this situation… it wasn't going to be easy to fix.

After all, at the core of it, the issue was simply that Tomori was putting too much pressure on herself.

Although he'd just offered to help her bear that burden, pressure isn't something tangible—something you can reach out and share just like that.

Of course, he did have an idea for a solution, though it wasn't quite appropriate.

He could just… help her write the lyrics himself.

That way, Tomori wouldn't have to worry about the band falling apart because she couldn't finish a song.

Not like he couldn't handle it—he was top of his class, a bona fide genius.

Writing lyrics? Not a problem.

Even if his lyrics wouldn't quite match the genius of Tomori, who was practically born for this, they'd still be better than having no lyrics at all, right?

But, despite how reliable this idea sounded, Saku knew in his heart that he couldn't do it.

If he went that route, the band might actually end up breaking up.

After all, Shiina Taki had once said, "I'll compose to match Tomori's lyrics," rather than simply, "I'll compose."

In other words, Taki would only feel inspired to compose music if the lyrics were written by Tomori. Lyrics written by him as a stand-in wouldn't do the trick.

Sure, with his current composition skills, he could probably finish the song all on his own, without Taki or anyone else's help.

But if he did that, what was the point of him learning to compose music with them in the first place?

Most importantly, if he took over like that, it would effectively turn the band into his own solo project.

He could write the lyrics himself, finish the compositions on his own, even manage the band…

What would be left for the others to do?

Just perform?

No, he couldn't help Tomori by writing her lyrics for her.

As he was mulling it over, Tomori suddenly spoke up. "Sorry… I've troubled you again."

It was only then that she realized she'd dragged him into standing around in the rain with her.

"It's no trouble. I was the one who suggested this walk, so there's no need to worry," Saku reassured her, then shifted the conversation. "Let's keep talking about why you're struggling with these lyrics."

"Alright."

Tomori didn't think to refuse, completely receptive to his suggestion.

"I was originally hoping to ease the pressure you feel from not finishing the lyrics, but after thinking it over, I feel like all I can say is what I already mentioned—our band isn't that fragile. It won't fall apart over something like this."

Sighing, Saku went on, "I wish I could give you more examples or something that would drive the point home, to show you that we're committed to being a band for life."

"But I just… can't think of a fitting example. Our band's still new, and no matter what I say, it somehow doesn't seem appropriate."

"So, it seems I'll just have to abandon that approach."

Bare words without any real proof—they wouldn't be persuasive. That was obvious.

Only actual experiences and actions could make a real impact.

In their current situation, no matter how many times he repeated "a band for life," it wouldn't change Tomori's true feelings.

Tomori looked down, watching as raindrops splashed up from the pavement.

Honestly, she really wished Saku could convince her with all sorts of reasons.

If he could, she wouldn't have to be so troubled over not finishing the lyrics, or worry about the band disbanding.

But instead, he had chosen to give up.

Which only meant… there was still a chance the band could fall apart.

Saku's words didn't stop there; he continued, "That's why I'm planning to solve your problem at the root."

"The root?"

Hearing this, Tomori's head snapped up.

"Right. I'm going to help you overcome this issue of not being able to write lyrics," Saku said with a smile. "From what you shared just now, I think I understand something."

"You're still really affected by CRYCHIC, so much so that you haven't truly moved past it."

"…"

Tomori didn't know how to respond.

Maybe he was right.

"If possible, I'd like you to tell me more about CRYCHIC," Saku said earnestly. "Even though I'm a fan of CRYCHIC, I actually don't know that much about your old band. I've only heard a few details, but I don't know anything specific."

"I can do that."

If it would help her write lyrics, she didn't mind telling him more.

After all, he already knew so much.

"If… if you don't mind, it'd be best if you tell it from your own perspective, rather than a purely objective account. Or maybe share things only you would know—that way I can help you better."

Saku felt he'd already grasped the key to solving this; he just needed a little more information to round it out.

"Alright."

And so, Takamatsu Tomori began to share once again.

---

Just like at the aquarium earlier, her storytelling was still slow.

Especially when it came to recalling memories like these.

Kamigawa Saku listened patiently, silently analyzing everything she said.

In the meantime, he picked up on some additional details.

For instance, how Takamatsu Tomori and Togawa Sakiko first met.

He listened quietly until Tomori eventually shared something Togawa had once told her.

"Your lyrics are the voice of your heart."

In an instant, it all became clear to Saku.

Yes, that was it.

The reason Tomori couldn't write her lyrics.

Even though he felt he'd hit on the core issue, Saku kept listening as she finished her story.

When she talked about CRYCHIC's disbandment, her expression noticeably dimmed.

He fully understood why she felt this way.

After giving her a moment, waiting until she seemed more at ease, Saku finally spoke up, "I think I know how to help you with this."

"Eh?"

The sadness over her memories instantly shifted into hopeful interest.

"What should I do?" she asked eagerly.

"Before I answer that, there's one more thing I want to confirm."

Instead of replying directly, Saku asked, "How did you write the lyrics for Spring's Shadow?"

"This…"

Tomori hesitated.

"Can you tell me?"

Seeing her reaction, Saku asked gently.

"Sure."

She nodded.

She'd already told him the entire story of CRYCHIC from beginning to end, so there was no reason to hold back on how she'd written those lyrics.

But… how had she written the lyrics to Spring's Shadow?

Tomori wanted to answer, but she wasn't sure what to say.

It just… flowed out naturally.

Back then, there was no need for the kind of struggle she was facing now.

Seeing her confused expression, a faint smile crept onto Saku's face.

It confirmed what he suspected.

The problem lay here.

"When you wrote Spring's Shadow, was it because you wanted to write, so you just did?"

Saku stopped in his tracks, prompting Tomori to do the same.

"Yes."

Thinking back, Tomori realized that was indeed the case.

"And now, you want to write lyrics, but nothing comes out? Or maybe you've written a lot, but none of it feels quite right?" Saku continued, pressing his guess.

"That's exactly it."

Tomori nodded in agreement.

"Then I can say with certainty that when you wrote Spring's Shadow, it wasn't because you just wanted to write lyrics. You had something you wanted to express, and that's why the words came out."

The rain was still falling, so Saku had to raise his voice slightly to ensure she could hear him clearly.

"Ah…"

All at once, Tomori understood something.

"To borrow Togawa Sakiko's words," Saku said, meeting her gaze, "your lyrics are the voice of your heart."

"For all this time, you've been obsessed with finishing the lyrics as quickly as possible."

"But… is that really what you want to convey?"

"That you have to finish the lyrics quickly?"

"That can't be right. That obsession is exactly what's keeping you from writing, just like now."

"Lyrics written just to satisfy the need to write quickly… are those really the lyrics you want to create?"

"I…"

Tomori's mouth opened slightly, but she couldn't find an answer.

"I've never written lyrics, so I can't say my perspective is entirely accurate," Saku continued, "but to me, lyrics don't need to be fancy or hard to understand."

"They just need to express what you really want to say."

"Lyrics without any emotion… they're empty."

At last realizing that she'd been going in circles, Tomori stood there, lost in thought, as if in a daze.

"I initially thought you were facing two problems, but it turns out it's just one: you're trying too hard to write lyrics, and that's why they aren't coming."

"So, the way to write your lyrics is simple: let go of the need to finish them quickly. Dig deep into what you truly want to express, what you're feeling inside, and the words will come."

With his understanding of the issue finally clear, Saku smiled sincerely.

The problem was solved.

Finally, the problem was solved.

It was all thanks to Togawa Sakiko's words.

Otherwise, finding a solution would've taken a lot longer.

He'd have to thank her with a nice meal sometime.

"What I truly want to express…"

Tomori pursed her lips, letting herself dwell on the question.

And in an instant, countless thoughts flooded her mind.

Without thinking, she let her clear umbrella slip from her hand.

Right now, she didn't care about the rain—she just wanted to think about the lyrics.

Seeing this, Saku reacted swiftly, catching her umbrella before it fell to the ground, holding it over her again.

The scene they made was a little strange.

Tomori stood still, lost in her world of lyrics, while Saku held an umbrella in each hand, shielding them both from the rain.

Looks like the rain might be letting up.

Glancing up at the sky, Saku guessed the rain would soon stop.

"I want to write a song about CRYCHIC. Is that okay?"

After a short while, Tomori came to her senses and took back her umbrella, as though seeking his approval.

"Of course. As long as it's what you truly want to express."

Saku agreed without a moment's hesitation, secretly amazed.

Tomori really was a genius at songwriting.

As soon as he'd helped her clear up the problem, she'd already come up with the lyrics in such a short span of time.

She was incredible.

"But… am I really qualified to write about CRYCHIC?" Tomori turned to him, her eyes a little uncertain. "Just like you said, I haven't fully moved on from its disbandment."

"You're right; you haven't moved on from CRYCHIC's disbandment. But so what?"

Saku shook his head, rejecting her lack of confidence.

"As much as I dislike saying things like this, I have to stress it now."

"Overcoming setbacks is part of what it means to grow."

"Though CRYCHIC's disbandment left you with shadows, it also gave you the opportunity to grow."

Tomori hesitated, questioning herself, "Have I really grown?"

If she'd truly grown, why couldn't she feel it?

Why was she still struggling so much to write these lyrics?

"Sometimes, the person directly involved is the last to notice," Saku said with a smile. "The reason you care so much about not finishing the lyrics is because you're working so hard to keep the band from disbanding."

"If that doesn't count as growth, then what does?"

"...But my growth hasn't helped much. It's only brought trouble to the band… and to you." Tomori was still bothered by this.

Saku changed the subject, "So, have you thought of the lyrics now?"

"Yes."

Tomori answered honestly.

"Then why say you're troubling the band and me?" Saku asked, feigning confusion. "Haven't you already come up with the lyrics? Honestly, we should all be thanking you."

"Didn't you once think that if you couldn't write the lyrics, the band would disband?"

"Now that you've come up with them, doesn't that mean you've successfully kept the band together and met everyone's expectations?"

"But it's only because of your help that I was able to do it."

Without his guidance, she had no idea when she would have resolved this on her own.

"Didn't I say before that lyrics aren't your responsibility alone? They're something the entire band is involved in." Saku reiterated, "And as the band's manager, I have a duty to help."

"Even if you ignore the 'manager' role, don't forget—we're friends, and friends are supposed to help each other. I mentioned this before."

"Most importantly, I only helped you understand why you couldn't write the lyrics. The one who actually came up with the lyrics was you, not me."

"If there's credit to be given, I'd only deserve a third of it. The rest is all yours."

"…Thank you."

After a long silence, Tomori looked at him earnestly and thanked him.

"No thanks needed." Saku casually shrugged. "By the way, earlier, didn't I say that our band wouldn't break up just because you couldn't write lyrics, but I couldn't come up with an example?"

"Yes."

Tomori remembered his words clearly.

"Well then, let me ask you—does this count as an example?"

Saku brought up the topic again.

"It does."

Tomori nodded firmly.

It was the perfect example.

Not as proof of how strong their band was, but proof that as long as Kamigawa Saku was there, the band wouldn't fall apart.

"That's really good to hear."

Saku turned his gaze into the distance, looking visibly happy.

While he looked away, Tomori kept her eyes on him.

They'd stay a band for life.

They'd absolutely be a band for life.

"Ah… the rain's stopped."

Saku suddenly spoke up, closing his umbrella.

"Yes, it has."

Tomori glanced up at the sky as well.

For some reason, she almost wished the rain would've kept falling.

That way, they could keep walking and talking in the rain as they had been.

But, even though the rain had stopped, it didn't matter.

They were going to be a band for life. They had all the time in the world ahead of them.

---

That Evening.

Back home, Tomori went straight to her room, pulling out her notebook and starting to write lyrics.

Unlike before, the words flowed effortlessly.

It didn't take long for her to finish them.

Carefully reading through her work, Tomori felt satisfied.

The only thing left was the title.

After some thought, she wrote down the title.

This song would be called A Drop in the Sky.

---

Ahem! Gather close, esteemed audience! Do you comprehend the privilege of basking in my radiance? Truly, you're witnessing history in the making—a performance unparalleled in the annals of Fontaine!

Ah, but don't get distracted! Let me be clear: this brilliance isn't conjured from thin air. No, no, no! It requires effort, dedication, and… well, a touch of your generosity. If you fancy being part of something truly extraordinary, do step forward here: [patreon.com/WiseTL].

Oh, but wait! You're probably wondering, "Furina, how can someone as magnificent as you need assistance?" To that, I say: why deny mortals the honor of contributing to such greatness? Supporting me is supporting art, and who doesn't want to say they were instrumental in a legend's rise?

Now, off you go. Make your offerings, and perhaps, perhaps, I'll acknowledge you in my next soliloquy!

— Furina ✨