Everyone Has Talent. If Only We Could Realize It - Volume 1 Chapter 2.8

Two Talents

Whistle voice refers to a pitch even higher than falsetto, akin to the sound of a whistle or a musical instrument. It’s extremely difficult to master, but if one can, it greatly expands their expressive range, making it not a dream to rise to the top as a diva of high notes.

(No doubt it’s amazing, but isn’t this straying too far from the main topic of the class?)

I thought to myself internally.

Why is Shibuya Erio showing off her abilities now when it’s completely irrelevant? What’s she trying to achieve?

And the instructor, too, just going along with this boast. Is this school really okay?

“Shibuya-san is amazing!” “Erio is unbeatable,” the students cheered, and I could almost see Shibuya’s invisible tengu nose growing longer.

“Hmm…”

However, amid the excited studio, only Shika remained expressionless, staring intently at Shibuya’s face.

Shibuya noticed.

“What’s the matter? Got something to complain about?”

“No.”

Shaking his head, Shika then said, “Can’t quite put it into words… but it’s a bit, uncomfortable.”

“…Ha!?”

Shibuya raised her voice as if provoked.

Unapologetically, Shika stated, “When I listened to your ‘sang it’, I thought the same. You’re kinda odd.”

“What? You picking a fight with me?”

“Not picking a fight. Just, despite being able to produce such beautiful sounds, it’s a shame it feels uncomfortable this way.”

“…Tch. Acting all knowledgeable!”

“Come on, Shibuya-san, calm down. Ikebukuro-san, you shouldn’t say things like that,” Afro-sensei hurriedly intervened to prevent Shibuya from lunging at Shika.

The tension was palpable.

Amid the confused crowd, Akiha quietly moved next to me.

“Hey, Raku. Is Shika’s way of speaking because she has perfect pitch?”

“Maybe even more than that.”

“Huh?”

“Shika can perceive sounds as ‘colors’.”

“Seriously? That’s awesome.”

Akiha was genuinely impressed but soon looked puzzled.

“But that doesn’t seem related to music…”

“You’d think, right?”

Continuing, I shared, “You know about the drawbacks of absolute pitch education? I’m not an expert, but I’ve heard stories.”

“Oh? Sounds interesting, tell me more.”

Leaning forward, Akiha listened as I began, recalling what I had researched in the past.

“Absolute Pitch is known as the ability to identify or reproduce a note just by hearing it—”

“That’s about right, isn’t it?”

“It’s more complex. Some people can identify single pitches, grasp melodies accurately, or even recognize frequencies like a tuning fork.”

“Wow.”

“During specialized training for absolute pitch, focusing only on specific frequencies can be troubling.”

“Specific?”

“For instance, if a piano tuned to start ‘A’ at 440 Hz plays ‘A♯’, ‘B’, ‘C’, the frequencies rise to 466 Hz, 494 Hz, 523 Hz. Even if someone is trained to identify these sequences, a piano tuned differently, playing a 480 Hz note, might not be recognized.”

“Ah, I see. So absolute pitch varies depending on its frequency basis.”

“Exactly. That’s why musicians with absolute pitch trained at 440 Hz might struggle to tune with a 442 Hz orchestra or get left behind if a different tuning becomes popular.”

“Hoh. So, this Akibahara Mana, lacking absolute pitch, might be a genius…?”

“Whether you’re a genius or not, I wouldn’t know.”

Such positive thinking. Not bad at all.

“But hey, Raku. How does Shika’s ability relate to our previous discussion?”

“Depending on the condition, humans can perceive up to 7.5 million colors. Meaning—”

“The patterns of sounds humans produce fit within this range…?”

“Correct.”

Akiha, aspiring to be a composer, had a good instinct. Impressed, I continued.

“With far greater accuracy than any specific absolute pitch owner, Shika can detect even the slightest discomfort in sounds, beyond modern science’s analysis. That’s his talent.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. But, that’s just listening ability, right? Singing is different.”

“True.”

Synesthesia isn’t that rare. It used to be thought of as one in a hundred thousand or one in two thousand, but recent studies suggest it’s closer to one in a hundred.

Yet, Shika’s synesthesia is a cut above the rest.

“You’ll see.”

“Huh?”

Nudging her chin, I suggested Akiha look forward.

Afro-sensei had managed to calm the situation.

Shibuya was still visibly upset, understandable given her pride in her voice was criticized.

Even subtracting my brotherly bias, Shika isn’t the type to hurt others without reason. His comment of “uncomfortable” must have had a basis, but for Shibuya, the true intention mattered little.

“Next, let’s have Ikebukuro-san try.”

“…Hmm.”

Prompted by Afro-sensei, Shika nodded slightly.

Taking a single step forward.

With a slight inhale.

Then.

The scenery changed.

As if being thrown atop a hill with a rainbow, painting the scene in real-time.

Despite merely vocalizing “La, la, la,” without intending to infuse any artistry.

The sound emitted was so beautiful, so precise, that Shika seemed like an instrument himself.

Not just me, Akiha, Afro-sensei, Komae Nokiya, and the other students.

Even Shibuya Erio, in the heat of anger.

We were all mesmerized by the too-beautiful scenery, as if our souls were captivated.

“It’s over.”

“…! Ah, yes, thank you very much!”

Afro-sensei snapped back to reality at Shika’s voice.

Then, looking at his smartphone screen, he said, “So, Ikebukuro-san’s vocal range is G3 to E5. Including both chest and head voice, it’s a typical range for a female.”

“…Hmph, acting all high and mighty just for that.”

Shibuya snorted.

“Ordinary voice. Thinking you can top with that?”

“No.”

Shika shook his head.

“I’m not really interested in striving to the top.”

“What…?”

“More importantly, how did my voice sound?”

“…!”

Shibuya flinched back as Shika leaned in.

“With golden eyes, Shika asked, “I chose only the beautiful ‘colors’. How did it sound to you?”

“What do you mean, it was…”

Stuttering, Shibuya bit her lip hard. Then.

“Who cares!”

Shoving Shika’s body away, she stormed out of the lesson studio.

Leaving Afro-sensei and the students bewildered.

As murmurs began, with some criticizing Shika’s actions, others admiring the beauty of his voice, and some arguing Shibuya’s six-octave range was special and Shika was ordinary—various voices filled the room.

“They just don’t get it.”

I mumbled to Akiha, my voice only loud enough for her to hear.

“What don’t they?”

“The vocal range is just an option for a singer. Generally, commercial songs are written within the average female vocal range. For a singer, that’s enough.”

Of course, having a wide range doesn’t hurt, but rich expression is achievable without relying on it.

Just as Shika had demonstrated.

“True. Regardless of the range, Shika’s voice was incredible.”

“Yeah. Her ability to manipulate her own voice like an instrument, not just his synesthesia, is what makes Shika a genius.”

While opinions flew, Shika himself, unconcerned by the gazes, kept his eyes on the studio door Shibuya had exited through.

Unable to fathom what thoughts were behind those eyes, I, merely his ordinary brother, could only watch.