Tokyo's Most Affectionate - Chapter 142

You Can’t Randomly Kiss People

The moment the piano music started playing, it was as if the soul of Kitajima Shizuka from Hokkaido had been struck by something, instantly captivated.

Unlike classical piano pieces, this belonged to the category of modern piano compositions, similar to those specifically written for animated soundtracks.

The melody was lively and intense, bright and fast-paced. However, each piano note seemed to pierce through the ears and reach the depths of the heart.

Describing that feeling was difficult—upon the first hearing, it was like celestial music, ensnaring people within and making it hard to snap out of the enchantment.

After an unknown amount of time, as the piece concluded, the video also came to an end.

“Tap, tap.”

Kitajima remained silent, her hand holding the mouse slightly trembling.

She subconsciously clicked on the video creator’s homepage, finding almost nothing but around a hundred subscriptions and a single video.

Returning to the video page, she clicked on the video’s description.

“Composed for the war tragedy of Croatia.”

With only this brief sentence, lacking any additional words or further introduction, it stirred curiosity and deep emotions.

The so-called “rhapsody” is a genre typically created based on folk music themes and characterized by high-level technical skills.

It emphasizes fantasy, improvisation, especially freedom, as its prominent features.

Many rhapsodies are born out of the piano composer’s sudden inspiration and effort.

She remained silent for a while, subconsciously clicked the “like” button, and then took out a pair of cat ear headphones, putting them on her head. Once again, she opened the video.

“I am Zero Hour, and this is a piano composition I wrote, titled ‘Croatian Rhapsody.'”

At the same time, the mysterious pianist with the symbol for zero, dressed in a tailcoat and a gentleman’s hat, invisible features, known as Zero Hour, reappeared on the screen.

Following that, the piano composition played again, entering her heartstrings through the headphones, penetrating her soul.

Perhaps after reading the introduction and gaining a deeper understanding of the original meaning of this piano piece, listening to it again immediately provided a completely different experience.

She didn’t know what Croatia was, but through the introduction, she learned that this place had experienced a brutal and terrible war.

Realizing this, she listened again, and her soul resonated with the music. The spirited and intense melody, the bright and fast-paced notes, seemed to be telling a story.

What kind of story was it? It varied from person to person, but what moved her was that it reminded her of her past self.

She started learning the piano from a young age, stepping onto various stages and competitions, experiencing both success and failure. 

Despite facing challenges, her outstanding performances filled her life with aspirations and pride, considering herself a piano artist.

When did it all change? It seemed to be after graduating from university, leaving the grand stage of academia and entering the harsh reality of society.

During her student days, her piano skills, which she took great pride in and were admired by many, were deemed worthless in the professional piano world.

In this era, piano, compared to popular music, was too niche. The cake was only so big, and there wasn’t enough to go around.

She lacked fame, making it challenging to grace prestigious venues, and without a notable reputation, releasing records was out of the question. 

Wanting to survive through piano and music, she could only perform in places like lounges, receiving meager wages.

Perhaps she couldn’t organize concerts, but she remained optimistic, deciding to start anew and gradually gain fame.

Reality was surprisingly smooth, even on such small stages, where she quickly accumulated a decent number of fans.

However, the good times didn’t last. She discovered that her fans didn’t really care about the piano pieces she played; they just wanted to watch a beautiful woman on stage while eating and drinking.

Thanks to the owner, who conveyed the fans’ opinions to her, suggesting a change in her appearance, she realized that she couldn’t accept people not listening to her piano. In frustration, she quit her job and changed her battlefield.

Over the course of two years, she went to several lounges and worked in multiple restaurants.

However, as things progressed, no one cared about how well she played the piano. People only found it exciting to see a hot and curvaceous beauty playing on stage.

For this matter, people enjoyed it, as they could unabashedly watch her while drinking, staring at her skirt, hoping to see more, and focusing on her neckline, yearning for more.

Two years of stagnation left her feeling disheartened. She left the bustling metropolis of Tokyo and returned to her hometown in Hokkaido.

After wasting some time, due to her parents’ urging, and the necessity to find a job, she set her sights on YouTube, starting to emulate many predecessors by playing the piano on the internet.

However, her piano skills, perhaps admired among students, were negligible in the professional realm. 

Even if someone watched her performance, it wasn’t many. Fans and viewers were similar to those in lounges, and some even recognized her.

No feedback, no fans, no recognition… She didn’t know when she had fallen, no longer emulating those predecessors but succumbing to the pressure of reality. 

She turned to learning from authors who relied on cosplay, even in swimsuits.

Until now, she had long forgotten the original intent of learning the piano in her childhood, sinking into the pursuit of money and materialism.

“Zero Hour.”

With mixed feelings, Kitajima stared at the paused website, looking at that frozen figure, involuntarily calling out this name with reverence. It was admiration.

Her eyes were filled with intense emotion, as if in the midst of utter silence, the flame of hope was rekindled.

Even though reality is cruel and frightening, hope never shatters.

This piano piece might be conveying such a meaning… Even if it’s riddled with wounds, I’ll start from scratch!

Immediately, she chose to repost and share this piano piece, even typing on the keyboard.

Even more so, she didn’t just share it on her own community, Twitter, Facebook, and all the accounts where sharing was possible.

She wanted to introduce her idol to everyone.

She wanted to use this action as a beginning to pick up her piano dream once again!

On that day, in Neon, in foreign countries, one after another, people interested in the piano clicked on this video.

“I am Zero Hour.”

“I am Zero Hour.”

“I am Zero Hour.”

This self-introduction echoed in different places under neon lights; some watched it on their phones, some on their computers.

Even more terrifying was that this piano piece seemed to contain a magical force.

It was awe-inspiring, touching, evoking mixed emotions, and inspiring admiration.

For those learning the piano, the power of this video was extremely formidable.

……

At 6 o’clock in the evening, as the sky gradually darkened, in a certain part of Tokyo, there was the Zero Hour Agency.

After finishing the shoot and uploading the video, Kurosawa hadn’t gone home yet. Instead, he sat in the lounge on the third floor with his two partners.

Because they chose to debut on the video platform YouTube, they were still waiting for the results.

Itsuragi was slightly bent over, facing a laptop. 

With the right hand holding the mouse and the left hand pressing the keyboard, she intermittently refreshed the webpage, performing various operations.

“It’s on the music channel homepage!”

She had been refreshing various pages all along. After all, having worked as a manager, Fujiwara Rika had also uploaded various songs and videos on YouTube, so she was familiar with various operations.

Moreover, to keep up with the times and trends, she usually spent a lot of time on YouTube.

“It’s on the homepage!”

Since around noon, she had been exclaiming every now and then.

“Six hours, a hundred thousand followers! The notice for the Silver Creator Award has come! Four hundred and thirty thousand views, a hundred and ten thousand likes, ah, ah, ah! Kurosawa! I love you to death!”

Until the official notification arrived, Itsuragi couldn’t hold back any longer. 

She jumped up wildly, opened her arms, and pounced towards Kurosawa on the opposite sofa like a tiger descending a mountain.

The next moment, she straddled Kurosawa, holding his head and kissing his cheek vigorously. 

However, after just a few kisses, she left behind lipstick marks.

“Runa, what are you doing!”

Ninomiya, who was sitting on the same side as her, was stunned when she saw this scene. 

Under the excitement, she even lost her voice and hurriedly ran over to pull them apart.

She quickly walked over, hugged Itsuragi, and forcefully separated the two.

“Chizuru, we made it! Croatian Rhapsody is going viral!”

Although being pulled apart, Itsuragi was still in a very excited state, looking up at Ninomiya with great enthusiasm.

“…”

Kurosawa was a bit dazed from the unexpected kiss, standing still, unsure of how to react.

“Even if it’s going viral, you can’t randomly kiss people!”

Ninomiya pulled her back onto the sofa and hugged her tightly, feeling speechless and annoyed.

She had known Kurosawa for more than a year, and so far, the most they had done was hold hands a few times. 

As for straddling him and kissing his face, even she hadn’t done that.

“Six hours, one hundred thousand followers, and this is without any fan base or budget for promotion. Do you know how terrifying this data is?”

However, Itsuragi couldn’t calm down at all, her heart pounding uncontrollably, overwhelmed with excitement.

As a talent manager, she understood the value reflected in this data even better than the two people in front of her.

“Take your time to explain, but calm down first.”

Ninomiya noticed that she was getting too excited, suppressed her inner displeasure, and tried to reassure her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed your man, but this is a video with a view count of tens of millions! No, I should say, a hundred million views!”

Itsuragi couldn’t calm down at all. Since resigning last Sunday, she had been feeling anxious. 

Although she firmly believed that Kurosawa would become popular and that her decision was correct, the signs of the results finally swept away the burden and worries on her shoulders.

“What do you mean ‘my man’? You can be excited, but don’t say random things…”

Ninomiya didn’t expect her to say that and felt a bit embarrassed for a moment. 

She didn’t dare to look at Kurosawa and even felt a bit weak in her speech.

Following that, Runa Iraga began to ramble.

“If it’s really at a hundred million views, converted at the average RPM, that’s 30 million yen in revenue. If it’s not the average, then it’s 40 million, 50 million!”

“If it’s two hundred million views, just from this video, we might even earn back our startup capital.”

“Moreover, judging by the growth rate of likes and fans being almost the same, almost everyone who likes it becomes a fan… with such a terrifying conversion rate and fan attraction, commercial endorsements, performances, albums, invitation notices, they will all come.”

While she continued her monologue, countless scenes began to appear in her mind.

A song that becomes a sensation, sweeping across the nation, winning various music awards; the name “Zero Hour” ascending like a deity, soaring to the clouds.

As an industry professional, she was all too aware of the value of this data.

In this era, how much money fame and traffic can bring, and the high standards of monetization, she had a yardstick in her heart to measure it all.