IJLMT 63

Chapter 63

“Are you saying that because you still don’t know what kind of person Eru is? That kid only has money on her mind. More precisely, she understands that focusing only on money is the correct answer.”

As far as Takahashi knew, Eru wasn’t the type to be shaken by issues like this. All she thought about was succeeding and making money.

— Isn’t what the company tells us to do the right answer? You must have done market research.

Eru said that like a habit. Since the goal was to make money together anyway, it was only natural for the company to decide the songwriting concept.

“Then why did she post something like that on SNS?”

“Well….”

Takahashi replied as if the question were obvious.

“Doesn’t saying that make her look relaxed? It means Nova Girls aren’t even worth her worrying about.”

Where is it?

The light mounted on the ceiling above the center of the stage flickered briefly, then disappeared. Darkness. Panic. Then another light, lower down, flickered and vanished. Then another, even lower—descending—until it, too, went out.

It’s like stars are falling.

Night Butterfly’s vocalist Eru—Hidaka Shiori—looked around.

Ah, there.

Was it the aisle between the seats? She saw a white light. It was slowly moving toward the center of the stage, descending step by step, from high to low…

It was as if a light that had fallen from the sky was moving of its own will.

— Even if I want to collapse, I keep walking. I’ll live as my heart desires.

So that’s why they told us not to turn on the light sticks before the show started.

Shiori swallowed. One could say it wasn’t a particularly complex production. They’d simply turned off all the lights except the center, switched them on and off in sequence, and then had Nova Girls move while holding lanterns.

Before the show began, Shiori had thought:

What kind of incredible production did Kamisumire put together?

But once it started, it was different from what she’d expected. It wasn’t some overwhelming display of technology. Yet the impact was more than enough. It wasn’t excessive, it wasn’t cheesy—rather…

— I don’t want you to reach out your hand. Just watch me stand up. Even if the stars fall and morning comes, there’s nothing to fear.

Yes—“a production that touches the heart” was exactly right. It fit the lyrics perfectly. A child who walks trusting in starlight, then keeps that starlight in their heart even after the stars have fallen…

It was like a fairy tale of a song. With just lighting, they had created a fairy-tale atmosphere.

— “Hello, we’re Nova Girls!”

— “Thank you so much for coming to see us even though you’re busy with your daily lives.”

— “We should explain the song we just sang. Our leader, Dabin unni, composed it, and each of us added one line of lyrics. Did you like it?”

A loud “Yeees!” erupted from the audience. Shiori stared at the stage in a daze.

Each of them added one line?

Was that really true? Wasn’t the agency just pushing that as a concept? But then again, why would they? If the agency wanted to push something, wouldn’t it have made more sense to go with sexy dance concepts like SERF had planned?

Then it must be real. Did they write it together, like a rolling paper, or a relay novel?

— “We wrote it while thinking about how we truly feel toward someone we’re grateful to. Are we really grateful? Why are we grateful? What are we grateful for? Are we grateful for the help? For what they did for us? As we wrote those things down, they became lyrics. Did any of you think of someone while listening to the song?”

Most people who like Nova Girls probably know who that “grateful person” is. People love the story of Yoo Hyeon-jae, the poor junior employee, and the failed idol group Nova Girls growing together.

— “The next song we’ll perform is Blue Heaven. Please enjoy.”

Blue light poured down. Bubbles seemed to float through the air around the stage, as if it were submerged in water. Jangchung Gymnasium is, after all, a gymnasium—not a facility built for stage performances—so there are inevitable limitations to what can be installed. And yet, the production felt natural. Was that Kamisumire’s technical prowess?

I’m jealous.

Shiori couldn’t help thinking so.

— “Isn’t Ms. Hidaka amazing? She’s tall, has a husky voice, and was popular with girls back in school, right? We need to appeal Ms. Hidaka’s charm to the public.”

— “I think that’s a lyricist error. Night Butterfly’s Eru is a rebel of the times, right? ‘What do you know about me? Wake up, outdated adults!’—you should write songs like that. Then we’ll get offers from anime adaptations of shōnen manga again.”

Even when she first signed, what SERF said hadn’t really resonated with her. Amazing? What does appearance matter when you sing?

A rebel of the times? Wake up, outdated adults? She’d never even thought like that. She wrote songs based on whatever came to mind at the time. She’d written a song insulting adults once—after getting yelled at by a rude customer at the convenience store where she worked part-time.

Back then, she wrote songs because she had things she wanted to say but couldn’t. Now, it felt like only the shell called “Eru” remained. That shell was so hard that the person called Hidaka Shiori couldn’t show herself at all. It felt like the popularity she enjoyed wasn’t even her own.

What could she do? That’s just how life is. How many people get to earn money doing exactly what they want? If you make money, that’s the right answer. Compared to the kids who stubbornly stuck to their ideals, I make more money by bending mine, don’t I? SERF is right. Yeah…

You do work you don’t want to do because it earns money. To earn money, you have no choice but to do things you don’t want to do. But what if that weren’t the case? What if you could earn money even after pouring out every story in your head, every song you wanted to sing?

What if she’d been enduring pain that wasn’t even necessary all this time?

Nova Girls’ songs… Apparently, Dabin composed all of them. Maybe that’s why their concepts are all over the place. Some are cute, some are energetic, some are cool, some are sad…

But isn’t that what people are like? Who is ever just one thing?

Whoever planned this production seemed to have no intention of forcing anything onto Nova Girls. They only thought about how to respect and highlight every single word that came from the girls’ mouths. You could feel that deeply in the production.

Night Butterfly’s Eru is still a singer of a higher tier than Nova Girls—a top-class singer in Japan. But had Eru ever been treated like this?

As that thought crossed her mind, the entire gymnasium went dark once more.

— “Everyone, please turn on your light sticks and look at the sky!”

The light sticks handed out at the entrance weren’t the usual baton shape, but round—like cones of ice cream. Now she understood why they’d chosen that shape.

“Wow….”

The light from the audience’s light sticks reflected off panels installed on the ceiling, clustering together like stars in the night sky.

At that moment, Shiori realized it. Others probably realized it too—what Nova Girls were trying to say.

Nova Girls were saying this:

— Everyone here is the same. We’re not the only special ones.

— All of you are special, just like us.

— I wanted to hold a light stick too! I wanted to be a star too!

— Hurry… hurry and do a Japan concert…!

— I saw them at TOSU, and it’s unbearable that I’m not there in person this time.

— Aren’t Korean showcase tickets way too cheap? Shouldn’t they charge at least twenty times what we pay?

— It’s so moving that it’s infuriating. If the livestream is this good, then the live venue must be…

— So… when is their Japan debut?!

I checked the reactions from Japanese communities—more precisely, the reactions on Korean community boards that were translating and enjoying Japanese community responses.

— When they told us to look at the ceiling, I literally couldn’t breathe.

— Even on such a huge stage, Nova Girls don’t act like they think they’re amazing.

— Listening to Guiding Star made me think of my late father… They probably wrote it thinking about Yoo Hyeon-jae, right?

— Can you even write a song like that thinking about your manager? Feels like they were thinking of an even greater benefactor.

— Yoo Hyeon-jae isn’t an ordinary manager, you know. He really is a huge benefactor.

— Heh heh… those of us who saw it live are the real winners.

It was an extremely successful stage—not just because the reactions were good.

People who saw it through video now desperately want to go in person.

The core of the success was Nova Girls’ skill, but what sparked that yearning was the production. Perhaps understanding that, the entertainment news featured articles like these:

[Production is not about flaunting technology but conveying emotion—what philosophy did Akita Shinichi reveal?]

[Akita Shinichi: “The perfect partner reminded me of what I had forgotten. The success of the stage is thanks to Yoo Hyeon-jae.”]

He doesn’t need to mention me in every detail.

My phone wouldn’t stop vibrating.

— Mina: Oppa, we—we’re 3rd on Spooky Pie’s Korean rankings right now!

— Hayoung: Not real-time—the weekly rankings. Real-time, we’re 1st.

— Nari: Back when we cracked the weekly Top 50, I cried my eyes out…

— Dabin: Given how much Hyeon-jae oppa set the stage for us, that’s only a fair return. Don’t get carried away—let’s do even better.

I was checking my phone when I stepped into the office.

“Director! Director, you’re finally here!”

Assistant Manager Yoo Seung-mok shouted excitedly. Everyone in the office looked tense.

“Is there something urgent? I didn’t get any particular message.”

“…They said you must be busy and that they absolutely wouldn’t contact you—that they’d just wait. They’ve been waiting for three hours already.”

For a moment, I thought of Reporter Yoon Seo-hoon, then dismissed the thought. If it were Yoon Seo-hoon, there wouldn’t be this much fuss.

“Please go into the conference room.”

I followed and entered the conference room.

“Hello.”

A woman greeted me. She was tall, with a small head—a slim, sophisticated beauty.

I quickly realized who she was.

“What brings you here…?”

“I wanted to learn a little more about this company—and about you as a manager. If you’re busy, it’s fine if you go take care of your work first.”

It was Night Butterfly’s Eru.