Chapter 42: Song of Mana
"So that's it—you and Ran-san are planning a volunteer performance for the kids at the Orphanage?"
"More precisely, it's a joint decision by the presidents of the Light Music Club, Film Club, Drama Club, and Girls' Pop Club."
"Girls' Pop Club is involved too? How come I didn't know?"
"Because Airi-chan is the type who absolutely refuses club activities during vacation, of course you wouldn't know. But all the presidents really want you to join. You are the songstress, after all."
"I don't mind singing for the orphanage kids at all… but do you have any good songs prepared?"
"We've got some well-known ones, but the presidents decided to create an original song—one that's warm and perfect for little children to listen to. So they asked Ran from Light Music Club to compose it. The deadline's super tight, so Ran's feeling a ton of pressure. We came out today to clear our heads and hopefully spark some inspiration."
Sana Kuranaka sat next to Airi and the two started chatting away. Only then did Takumi learn that several clubs had spontaneously organized a volunteer summer performance for the orphanage kids as their vacation club activity.
"By the way, we still haven't been properly introduced. Who's this suspicious 'boyfriend' guy?"
"Oh right! This is Takumi Kouichi. Kouichi, this is first-year Sana Kuranaka from the Film Club, and this is first-year Ran Maeda from the Light Music Club."
"Marina-senpai, that introduction was way too plain! Let me do it properly. I'm Sana Kuranaka, first-year Film Club member. My hobby is photography—my favorite subject is Airi-chan. I capture all her super 'hauu~ embarrassing' moments. Yep. Height 160 cm, three sizes B78, W57…"
"Stop! You sneaky shutterbug! What do you mean 'embarrassing moments'—I don't even know about them! And why are you announcing your own measurements at our first meeting?!"
Airi immediately clamped a hand over Sana's mouth, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and irritation.
While the two were tussling, the plain-looking Ran Maeda politely bowed toward Takumi.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Ran Maeda."
"Hi. Takumi Kouichi. So you're in the Light Music Club, Maeda-san?"
"Yes. I'm the guitarist."
Takumi's eyes lit up with genuine interest. In the real world, there was that insanely popular anime called K-On! where he first learned what "light music" even meant. Even though Ran looked completely average, the "light music girl" label instantly made her intriguing.
"Guitar, huh? I messed around with it for a few days but gave up. Your fingers are covered in calluses—you've obviously practiced really hard. You're super dedicated. And you compose too? No wonder you're so talented."
"Y-You're too kind, senpai…"
Ran's cheeks tinted pink at the praise. She really was the shy type.
"Heyyy, long-hair! You're not even from our school. Stop pretending to be a senpai just to hit on girls!"
Only Airi could blurt something that shamelessly blunt. Takumi laughed it off.
"In a little while I'll be transferring in, so for now I'm just a provisional senpai—it's fine, right? Airi, so you're called the songstress? I'm really looking forward to hearing you sing. I'm only half-decent at music, but I'm a total music otaku."
Airi huffed proudly, lifting her chin with confidence.
"I'm pretty confident when it comes to singing. But aren't you supposed to be some sports genius? Why do you sound so into music too?"
"That's why I'm only half-decent. And who says being good at sports means you can't love music? That logic doesn't add up."
"Is that so? Then how much do you know about singing posture and breathing technique?"
"Posture is the foundation of breath. Breath is the foundation of voice."
Takumi answered simply and directly, but he hit the core truth. Airi blinked in surprise.
"Then… try singing a few lines for me."
"Airi, this isn't a karaoke booth. Why are you suddenly getting so serious with Kouichi about this?"
"It's not about anything else. I just hate people who pretend to know music when they don't."
Airi's expression turned earnest. Takumi was a little taken aback. He'd only seen the ghost-father side chasing pure lust in those depraved OVAs—he never imagined the heroines would feel so real and three-dimensional once brought to life. Airi clearly loved music and singing from the bottom of her heart. Being called "songstress" had way less to do with her looks and everything to do with her talent.
He smiled.
"Sure. I'll sing one then. My natural voice isn't great for singing, so I'll use falsetto and cross-dress it a bit."
"Falsetto?"
Ran and blonde Airi immediately understood. Marina and Sana just looked confused.
Takumi chuckled, took another quick sip of the lemon drink to clear his throat, then spoke.
"Falsetto means 'false voice'—exactly what it sounds like: a disguised voice."
The moment the words left his mouth, Marina clapped a hand over her own in shock.
Because the voice that came out wasn't Takumi's deep, masculine tone at all—it was a soft, sweet, unmistakably girlish voice. If you closed your eyes, you'd swear a cute teenage girl was talking.
"Most of the songs I like are sung by women, so I'll sing one of my favorites in this voice."
The sweet girlish tone clashing with Takumi's sturdy build created a bizarre, almost uncanny dissonance.
Ignoring the stunned looks from the girls, Takumi began to sing one of his favorite pieces: "Chiisana Tenohira."
It was pure a cappella. The female falsetto felt strange coming from him, yet almost instantly, everyone in the café—including the staff—fell completely silent, captivated.
"Chiisana Tenohira" was, in Takumi's opinion, one of the most tear-jerking insert songs ever written. Its gentle, simple melody and warm, sincere lyrics carried no flashy arrangements, no fake emotion—just pure, collected memories of irreplaceable moments pieced together into a single heartbreaking tune.
To give the best performance possible, Takumi quietly channeled mana into his vocal cords to prevent cracking or falsetto collapse.
What he didn't expect was that the mana infusion turned the song into something magical.
The voice pierced through walls, drifted out into the street. Passersby stopped in their tracks, tilting their heads to listen. The melody felt like a clear spring, slowly seeping into parched hearts worn down by daily life—until it overflowed, welling up as tears that finally fell.
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