(Senei's Point of View)
There wasn't much I could deny. I did it. I ruined everything—my career, my name, and those of the people around me. I lost everything: my job, my family, my chances. The agency kicked me out, and soon after, I got divorced. No one accepted me anymore—not as a person, not as an artist. That's when it hit me, Not only was I hated, but so was my music.
I regretted it.
Deeply.
Maybe I was too arrogant when I was on top. I didn't appreciate my family, my friends, or my team. And now, no matter how much music I write—no matter how good it is—no one wants to hear it. I thought of ending it all. But even that, I couldn't do. I didn't have the courage to speak—to let my voice be heard again. People would recognize it. My past would catch up to me.
No apology would be enough.
I know that.
I really, really regret everything.
But it's too late, isn't it?
Why can't I just end this?
I'm tired.
So, so tired.
Should I give it one last shot?
Each day felt heavier. Even eating was a struggle—I kept throwing up whatever I tried to swallow. My head constantly throbbed. One day, I looked up and whispered to the universe,
"If I fail again this time… please give me a sign to change."
I forced myself up and went to the convenience store to get what I needed. I was going to do it. But then... I saw her. After all these years—after everything—I saw her. Was she a new fan? Without realizing it, I stared at her too long. Oh God—she's an old fan.
I didn't think much else. I returned to my apartment and prepared the poison gas. I locked myself in the bathroom and waited. But when I closed my eyes... her face appeared.
What happens after I die?
Will the news reach the fans?
Will anyone cry?
Will... she cry?
Suddenly, I didn't want to die anymore. I forced myself out of that bathroom, gasping for air. I ran—chasing her, just long enough to find where she lived. And then... I passed out.
It's awkward, but I can't just leave.
There's something familiar about her. I couldn't place it—until I saw her again at the bistro she worked at. Ah... that sweet vanilla soufflé, and the fact that someone still listens to our songs... I missed being popular. But I knew I couldn't stay at the bistro forever. So I waited outside.
That's when it clicked.
She was the girl in that video—the one who cried so hard.
How do I get her attention again?
"Sing."
But just the thought of it made my chest tighten. What if it all comes back to haunt me? As if the universe gave me permission, while I was waiting and trying to steady my breath, the street was empty. She walked out. I took a deep breath… and sang.
The very first song that made Vivelune go global.
Would she remember?
Would she recognize me?
It worked. She looked at me—but what was that expression? Her gaze confused me. But this was my chance.
"Please help me."
God, I hadn't talked to anyone properly in so long—I sounded pathetic. Would she even get what I meant?
To my surprise, she thought I was homeless.
She let me stay.
Maybe it was pity. Maybe something else. But that didn't matter.
I want my songs to be heard again. But I can't sing. If people recognize me, I'll be buried again.
I need her.
Will she help?
She left me alone in her house when she went to work. She left a plate of food with a note that said,
"Eat, then go."
I ate it, but… should I go? The food was simple but warm and delicious, her house was tidy, and her sofa was comfortable. How long had it been since I felt this? I remembered my time with Vivelune. They were so kind and warm. My regrets deepened. I would try to talk to her again. I waited for her to come home.
But when she did… I saw her eyes. They were filled with anger, but also glossy with tears. Yet it felt more complicated than just that. Was my mistake really that huge? Should I have just left? Thinking about it, I really do seem like a terrible person using an old fan.
But she was this angry, and still said nothing.
"You... can yell at me now."
"I mean, I'm right here, in front of you."
She looked down. Am I that disgusting? Am I unforgivable to that point?
"Let out all your anger on me."
"Punch me, slap me, kick me if you want!"
Be angry. Why are you still silent? Am I really that disgusting? Do you hate me so much that you—
She pushed me and started yelling. But something was strange about her words. None of it hurt. Maybe because all of it were truths I'd begun to accept.
🌊 "You said, 'Please keep supporting us'..."
Yes. I did say that. I'm sorry.
🌊 "HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SUPPORT YOU WHEN YOU'RE NOT EVEN HERE?"
That broke me.
That one line shattered something deep inside.
She collapsed, pounding her chest. She wasn't just angry—she was hurting. All this time, I thought I was the only one in pain. But she carried it too.
I hugged her.
Tightly.
She tried to fight me off, but I held on. I didn't want her—a fan—to suffer because of me. I wouldn't let her go until her sobs softened.
I didn't say anything after that.
She fell asleep.
But I couldn't.
The guilt was too loud.
In the morning, she left without a word.
No note.
Nothing.
I didn't know what to do.
What did I expect? That she'd suddenly forgive me? That she'd be okay?
It really was awkward. I didn't know what to do. I had hurt her so much. Should I have revealed myself in the first place? I regretted everything I did.
"Maybe I should've just died," I said.
I let myself rot with thoughts I shouldn't have. I didn't even notice the moonlight shining in. I wasn't sure if I should give up on life or what. Once again, I asked the universe for a sign.
As if answering, I got a call from an unknown number. I hoped it was death calling. But when I picked it up...
🌊 [Come home, Senei.]
I froze. Where is she now? At my apartment? Who told her? I panicked so much I didn't even realize she used my real name.
🌊 [Oh, and bring some cleaning tools. I'm waiting for you here.]
I was utterly confused. Women confuse me. Yesterday, she hurled her voice at me; now, she whispers it ever so softly.
Still, I ran. I brought the supplies. There she was, waiting in front of my place—like none of that ever happened.
Did she see it?
The mess I made?
What should I say?
What should I do?