Even though the warmth of last night's laughter could still be heard in the air, it had completely disappeared by morning, to be replaced by a chilly quiet.
The studio was already bustling with activity, even though the sun had just begun to peek over the city skyline. Staff members went from room to room with their scripts in hand, getting ready for yet another busy day of voice work. The typical bounce in Ren's steps was noticeably diminished as he stepped in quietly. Instinctively, he looked around.
Ayaka had already arrived and was chatting with an assistant director. She spoke in a clipped, businesslike tone. He never saw her eyes.
And that was the start.
Ayaka avoided close contact from the beginning of the day.
She had always conducted herself professionally at work, but today it was too planned. During rehearsal, she spoke to Ren in a direct, succinct, and emotionless manner. She was never by herself, and she never gave him more than a glance. Her voice had lost its warmth as well.
Ren sensed it in every conversation. She did not have to speak. The punishment alone was silence.
He didn't let it show, though.
Ayaka said, "All right, let's take it from Scene 38."
Their anime production reached a climax when the protagonist, motivated by a hidden burden, betrays his best friend. Once seemingly easy to execute, a line now felt uncomfortably close.
Ren clutched his script. His persona had to yell—charge the person he cared about with betraying him and abandoning him.
With a sharp clarity, he delivered the lines after exhaling.
"I had no other option, so I did it! Do you believe I wanted this?"
He was the center of attention. It felt too real, the aching confusion, the rawness of his voice.
Ayaka blinked as well, almost in surprise.
However, she remained silent. simply moved on.
Others started to leave after work.
Haruto glanced at Ren. "Are you okay? Something's wrong, even though you've been killing the sessions lately."
Ren smiled thinly. "I guess I'm just tired."
Soon after, he departed for his training center, carrying a backpack over one shoulder. With Tokyo neon lights flickering to life, the streets were now darker. He welcomed the chill in the air, even though it bit his skin. It prevented his thoughts from going haywire.
He avoided the main roads and went down the back alleys. The silence returned, and he was alone with his thoughts.
'She is avoiding me.'
He understood why.
He detested himself as a result.
He had gone too far. He wasn't proud of the kiss or the intensity of the moment. He knew it wasn't right, regardless of how much the alcohol affected his judgment or how much he wanted her. She also had every right to be aloof.
However, it was painful. It hurt, my god.
As usual, there was a buzz of activity in the training studio. Ren came in, changing rapidly and diving right into the warm-ups. There were other trainees present, including hopefuls like him who had not yet received approval and rookies. He performed the dance routines flawlessly in spite of the pain in his chest. Excellent timing and deft movements.
During a water break, one of the more experienced trainees, Daisuke, said, "You've been killing it, bro."
Ren just chugged from his bottle and nodded.
"You also compose music?" Daisuke inquired. "You have the stage presence, voice, and face. Not doing so would be a waste.
Ren blinked. "Me? Compose?" He laughed breathlessly. "No, I don't."
Daisuke grinned and said, "You ought to give it a try. You seem like a tortured poet."
Ren gave a half smile but remained silent.
However, the words persisted.
It was past midnight by the time training was over. The dreamy hum of the city had subsided. With his hood up and his legs outstretched, Ren sat on his building's rooftop and gazed up at the stars.
From his bag, he took out a small notepad that he typically used to draw storyboards. He didn't draw tonight, though.
He composed.
At first, the words came slowly. hesitant. shaky. However, as his feelings overflowed, they formed lines that were genuine despite their imperfections.
"I see the echo of my sin in the mirror of your silence when your eyes refuse to meet mine and your voice becomes icy.
I kissed past the line, held you for too long, and now I still feel the pain. I can't rhyme in lyrics.
Still, though... I'll write your name in every note until my songs learn to pray, even if you never look my way."
Before he could stop it, a tear ran down his cheek as his gaze lingered on the last words he had written. He used the back of his hand to wipe it away, exhaled a trembling breath, and then, pen in hand and heart heavy, turned to the next page of his notebook and started writing the lyrics.
Title: 'If Only You Knew'
'If only you knew how loud silence can scream,
How your eyes still haunt my every dream.
I reach for your warmth, but you're oceans away,
Lost in the words I never could say.
I wear this guilt like a second skin,
Choking on love that could've been.
You're the verse that lingers, the line I can't write—
A flame in my chest that won't burn to light.'
He gazed at the page. His hand trembled slightly.
It wasn't flawless. It wasn't even polished.
But it belonged to him.
It was his first song.
And it was all about her.
Ayaka.
Leaning back and taking a deep breath in the night air, he closed the notebook. Clarity was there, but guilt still clung to his bones.
He was unable to change the past. He could, however, work toward the future.
for her honor.
for his salvation.
And perhaps one day... for a love he wouldn't have to bury.