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The noise of the crowd used to be so loud.
A blizzard, threatening to tear me apart.
And yet, now, as we stand up to leave the stage, it feels like I find myself in the eye of the storm – the only place where peace resides.
I don’t want to go just yet.
“…Can you give me a moment?”
“Hitori?”
The concert has been long and arduous. We aren’t exactly young anymore, either; honestly, as much fun as it was, my body is aching to relax for a little.
I don’t remember how many encores we performed, pulling from many, many years of writing songs. The newest, the oldest, and everything in between.
But as my muscles seem to scream at me to let them relax, I still find myself picking up my guitar again.
Just a little longer.
“This will be my final performance today.”
Ah, I can’t even bring myself to say it properly. Why did I add ‘today’? Isn’t this supposed to be our last live?
The feeling of the guitar’s neck in my hand is familiar. A guard rail to hold on to; a life saver in the endless sea of people that stretches out before me.
Tearing into my callused skin, the strings provide a painful comfort, stripping down all my walls as my pick shapes the melody of my heart.
I can’t play like I used to, especially not with how exhausted I am now. But before I leave, I want to shout it all out one last time – lay it out to the star that appeared in the evening sky.
And so, I start to sing.
It’s a simple melody; one I keep thinking up as I go along. The lyrics, too, are nothing special. This song is not a product of many hours of hard work, not something refined over days, not crafted to perfection across weeks or months. Chord progressions, rhythms, any kind of music theory has left my mind, and that’s okay with me. This song doesn’t need them.
It’s the result of this very moment, and the decades I got to spend with the people in my life. I pray to myself that it’s genuine.
The bass comes in. I can make out a second star.
I never thought the day would come that I could say this, but I don’t think I have any regrets. Or, rather, I do have many regrets – and yet, they don’t haunt me. Every now and then, they pop into my head, and I smile at a pleasant memory. With all the ups and downs my life had, I still want to remember it all.
Maybe Ryo would be angry at me for saying this, but I don’t have any songs left to write. I’ve emptied my soul into my lyrics and filled my heart with tiny moments that made me happy. My story is over. I can only hope it will keep being retold for many years to come.
And I firmly believe that it will be. We’ve made it so far, after all; Nijika’s goal has long been fulfilled, and we still managed to reach greater heights. People sometimes say it’s lonely on top of the world, but I’ve brought people who are willing to join me in that loneliness.
A soft, steady rhythm begins playing along to the beat of my heart. The third star is a bit blurry.
Oh, how could I forget? I’ve gotten popular, too. Much more so than I ever could’ve hoped. It was honestly pretty intimidating at the start, especially since I was still an anxious mess back then. Today, though, I happily laugh along to the stories of those days; they seem so far away now.
I never managed to quit high school, but it’s not like that’s a huge tragedy. Even if it was, could I really complain about it now? High school was the second beginning of my life. I should be more thankful, if anything.
Not just for everything I’d learned during that time, but also for the people I managed to meet. To say that they’ve changed my life is nothing short of a massive understatement.
I can hear the second guitar come to life. The constellation melts together into one, my voice starts cracking.
The tears just can’t be kept inside anymore. I feel my face grow damp, and I doubt anyone can tell what I’m trying to sing at this point. But that doesn’t mean that I’ll stop. I’m the one who says when it ends. That’s a lesson I will always cherish.
And so, even if it’s just one more minute – just one second, a fraction of a fleeting moment – just a little longer, I want to hold on to this.
I am not afraid of the future. I’m satisfied with my life, and I’m sure the days I have left will be filled with joy and warmth.
Yet the tears won’t stop coming, as I say goodbye to this chapter of my life. No, not a chapter: more than a novel, it has been a long epic that’s finally nearing its conclusion. Everything after this is not part of the story anymore.
As my voice starts to give out on me, I hear two other voices doing their best to back me up, and a third calling out to the crowd. I can’t tell what they’re saying. They’re wavering even more than me.
But since they won’t give up, then even as my face begins to hurt from crying, the least I can do is smile as I send it all off.
Goodbye, everybody. And thank you for everything.
I sink down to the floor in exhaustion as soon as the final note rings out. I’m sure the applause is an explosion of sound, but to me, there are only four people in the world.
As their warmth surrounds me, I hold them close. I can only wonder what amazing things the next day will bring.