Everyone Has Talent. If Only We Could Realize It - Volume 1 Chapter 5.6

All-Direction Lost Child Catalog

At that moment, beyond Akihabara, I caught sight of Komae’s profile.

“Erio-chan…”

Komae’s gaze was filled with concern. There, on the floor, kneeling and dejected, was Shibuya.

I had thought she might explode in anger at the judges’ evaluations, as was her nature, but that wasn’t the case. She seemed crushed by despair, murmuring mechanically, devoid of warmth.

“Why… why did this happen… I didn’t… lose… yet…”

“Eri.”

Shiika approached Shibuya.

Kneeling down to match her eye level, Shiika said,

“Keep your promise.”

“To sing as you told me to, and then, to collaborate.”

“Yeah.”

“Do as you like… I don’t care anymore. You can have Noakiya too.”

“Okay. Then, about the request…”

Shiika spoke with a clarity and determination unusual for her.

“Never use the whistle voice again.”

“Ha…?”

“Eri, your chest voice is the most beautiful. Whistle voice shows a very unpleasant ‘color.'”

“Ha, haha. You really hate me that much, huh. I guess it serves me right. How laughable.”

“It’s different.”

“What’s so different!? Telling me not to use my whistle voice… it’s the same as telling me to die!!”

Shibuya raised her voice in protest.

But her expression lacked the ferocity of a rabid dog from before, appearing more like a rain-soaked puppy, frail and weak.

Shiika looked troubled.

“I’m sorry. But I felt you shouldn’t go that way. I can’t explain well, sorry…”

“──Excuse me, may I interject?”

Someone spoke up amidst the argument between Shiika and Shibuya.

It was one of the judges, Kurso Reirou. He raised his gloved left hand slightly, showing an awkwardly sheepish smile.

“Kurso-san…”

“I didn’t intend to tell you why I gave you 90 points. But it seems Ikebukuro Shiika-san here has noticed.”

“Ah?”

“You’ve undergone quite extreme training to acquire a six-octave range. Your natural singing voice is probably in a lower range, right? Whistle voice is inherently straining on the throat. If you, lacking natural high tone capability, continue this, you’ll eventually lose your ability to sing. Likely within your twenties.”

“Wh…!?”

Shibuya was speechless.

Kurso showed a surprised look on his face.

“Oh, you didn’t know?”

“I was prepared for some risks. But I never thought it would be that soon…”

“I see, then I should have told you. ──Thank you, Shiika-san. I was about to make a decision that could’ve crushed a genius.”

“…What did I do?”

“Normally, we judges aren’t supposed to discuss our scoring criteria, but your health is at stake here. I’ll take responsibility and tell you that this exam also evaluates ‘future prospects’ and ‘sustainability as a professional.’ The other judges, coming from worlds where they value momentary emotional impact even at the cost of damaging the throat and from the world of instruments, overlooked that aspect, but I couldn’t.”

“So you lowered your score because I won’t be able to perform until I’m thirty…?”

“That’s right. But there was a possibility you were fully aware and still chose this path, so I thought giving unsolicited advice and causing doubts would be inappropriate.”

“I see… So, Shiika, you’ve been worried about this all along…”

Shibuya’s voice lost its strength.

Shiika shook her head.

“I didn’t know that far. But I could see the ‘color’ of your strain.”

“‘Color’…?”

“Yeah. The sounds in nature are all beautiful colors. Even man-made sounds can have beautiful ‘colors’ if they exist naturally. …But at that time, your singing had the ‘color’ of something distorted.”

“Even then, you could have dismissed me as a hopeless case and left me alone, right? Why did you try to save me?”

“It would have been a waste.”

“A waste?”

“Underneath the strange ‘color’ painted from above, the ‘color’ of the real Eri I could see was very beautiful. So… I wanted to see that.”

“So… that’s what it was…”

While clumsily conveying her feelings, Shiika’s halting explanation gradually twisted Shibuya’s expression into a wistful grimace.

From a third party’s perspective, both were incredibly awkward.

On one hand, the communication-challenged Shiika, who keeps her words locked deep inside.

On the other, Shibuya, another communication-challenged individual, who forces her feelings onto others with verbal bullets.

Because both are clumsy at conveying messages through anything but music, perhaps a grand battle was necessary just to deepen their bond over such a brief conversation.

Shibuya, holding back her overflowing emotions with a dejected face, bowed deeply to Shiika.

With a trembling voice, she said.

“…I’m sorry.”

“Eh?”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t realize, and I said such terrible things…”

Nuzzling into Shiika’s chest, Shibuya’s voice trembled as she cried.

For a moment, Shiika looked unsure of what to do, glancing at me anxiously.

But as soon as I nodded, Shiika… hesitantly and cautiously, but nonetheless.

Wrapped her arms around Shibuya’s back.

Like a mother. Like a sister. Or like an ordinary friend.

She hugged her and gently patted the crying Shibuya’s back.

“I’m sorry too. I couldn’t explain well.”

“No, it’s me who’s the worst. I’m sorry… sorry…! Really, I’m sorry…”

Shibuya clung to Shiika’s petite frame and sobbed.

As if the dam had broken, she continued to let her tears flow endlessly.

Watching the two young geniuses embrace, Kurso smiled and said to the other judges behind him.

“This year’s Ryoran is indeed a good harvest. I look forward to their future.”

“Yes!”

“Indeed.”

Oomuta and Ebina nodded in satisfaction.

Then, as the lunchtime chime rang, signaling the end of the event, the three adult judges began to leave the auditorium from their seats.

“Kurso-san. May I ask one last question?”

Shibuya called out to their backs.

Kurso turned around and encouraged her.

“Please.”

“If I had sealed away my whistle voice… would you have given me 100 points in today’s exam?”

It was a pointless debate about “what ifs” which she knew all too well.

This wasn’t a question born from clinging to the past or throwing a tantrum.

It was a question for the future. A question to reconsider the path she should take.

To the sincere question from the young genius, Kurso answered with a smile.

“It’s hard to say how much the power of your singing voice would drop without hearing it… But based on my judgment, even without the whistle, your expressiveness is outstanding. You’re definitely worth 100 points.”

“Thank you…!”

Shibuya bowed deeply. With a flutter of their hands, the three adult judges left the auditorium.

Relieved by the mutual acknowledgment of their efforts, I let out a sigh of relief.

Probably, Shibuya Erio will be alright. She won’t do anything to negatively influence Shiika anymore.

I understood why Shiika was concerned about Shibuya’s voice and used a “Seeker” song to confront her.

The true voice of Shibuya must contain a “color” that she wanted to add to her “paintbox.”

It’s truly a relief that the story of these geniuses has found its rightful place.

──What remains are only minor issues.

“Komae. Can I ask you something? Is that okay?”

“Eh? Ah, sure… But why do you look so scary?”

“Listening to Shibuya and the others, something’s been bothering me──”

I asked Komae several questions, to verify the suspicions and hypotheses that had sprung up in my mind.

And as I listened to Komae’s responses, my suspicions turned into conviction.

The true nature of the ominous shadows surrounding Shiika and Shibuya became crystal clear.

When I shared my thoughts, Komae turned pale.

“If that’s true, then Erio-chan is…”

“Yeah. She wants to walk with you. And that’s precisely why Shibuya is in her current situation. ──Go to her. And I want the two of you to discuss the future.”

“I, I understand.”

“Counting on you. Well then.”

Saying that, I stood up, holding a leaf with a slug on it.

“Where are you going, Rakuto?”

Akihabara, who had been listening to me and Komae, asked with a serious voice.

I grinned and answered.

“Just stepping out for a bit. Gotta throw this slug away.”