A SINGLE TEARDROP in his eye, but like him, it didn’t fall. He was never one to reveal much of his inner emotions. The way I once used to be.

I let him hear my new song just now. He closed his eyes and smiled. Dad has never been one to say much, now he had a good reason to, but his smile always reveals the words he tries to conceal.
           
“Oh right, I nearly forgot to say,” I suddenly remembered the deal I had made with my boss, “if this song is first in the Oricon charts for three consecutive weeks, I’ll get a concert at the Tokyo Dome!”
           
Other than his smile, there’s one more thing that reveals the thoughts he keeps hidden; his eyes, filled with surprise.
           
“Though I doubt it will actually reach the top spot to begin with,” I added.
           
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “…Have,” he started, followed by a little pause, “…some faith.”
           
This time, my eyes were the ones putting my inner thoughts on display. Being pessimistic about this won’t get me anywhere. I quickly shook off the thought of my last sentence.
           
“Have some faith” … I will, dad!

* * *

The following Monday, I was contemplating on whether it would be best to start brainstorming about the big song we could possibly be playing, or to wait for my song’s results on the music chart. I’ve never gotten to first place after all, it would be a little embarrassing to prepare everything, only to scrap the entire song after.
           
I decided to at least address the current situation regarding the potential live performance to my friends on our way to school.
           
“Tokyo dome? Are you out of your mind? Every artist that sets foot in there is one of a kind. You’re thinking we could live up to the hype? Well if you’re so sure, then maybe the time is ripe,” Morita said.
           
Kashimoto was rubbing his hands together, “We’re not ready at all.” He kept rubbing them in a villainous manner. “But this opportunity is very interesting.”
           
“It is, right?” I nodded. “Though that was only the first part.”
           
“There’s more?” Kashimoto asked, intensifying his hand rubbing for some reason.
           
“I want to make a song with you two, but also with LuNA and Katou. All five of us on a single song, how does that sound?”
           
Morita sighed, “Man, you’ve got some crazy proposals today. But like Kashimoto said, no chance that I’ll shove this opportunity away!”
           
Kashimoto nodded in agreement.
           
“How about we start thinking about the song already? Even if we fail to get the big live performance, someday we’ll surely get the chance, you know.”
           
“Uh-huh! Let’s plunge in the deep with this idea during lunch, then brainstorm a bunch!”
           
When lunch rolled around, we all gathered at our usual table to brainstorm.
           
“So, you got any ideas?” I asked.
           
I looked at the two, but got no response from either one of them.
           
“Well, me neither.”
           
Our brainstorming turned into a staring contest. None of us had anything useful to say. The song is a very big deal to all of us, so we can’t just lowball it.
           
The hero we needed joined our table at the perfect time to break our deadlock.
           
“Hello~” Nomura cheerfully said as she sat down.
           
She slowly started eating while glancing at us.
           
“It’s so quiet here. What’s going on?” She asked.
           
“We’re working on a new song,” I said.
           
She looked even more puzzled, “Are you telepathically exchanging ideas or what?”
           
“The thing is,” Kashimoto said, “we’ve got no ideas to exchange.”
           
“Ah, so that’s what it is.” She crossed her arms and repeatedly nodded. “You’re stuck in a rut and need Nomura to save the day again…”
           
“Indeed. Nomura, you’re the hero we need,” Morita rhymed, as usual. “We’re making a song with Koji, Kashimoto, Katou, LuNA and me. Though that’s what’s making this so hard, you see?”
           
“Sorry guys.” Nomura crossed her arms in an X shape. “Count me out. I’ve got something really important to worry about.”
           
“And what’s that?” I asked her.
           
“Hehe~ I’ve got a chance at working at my favourite bakery! If I pass the training that is.”
           
“Woah, good luck with that,” I said as I bumped her fist.
           
“Thanks!” she smiled.
           
I had already forgotten that she wanted to get better at baking and stuff. Good for her that she’s making moves towards that goal. Though the timing is a little inconvenient, she really was a massive help with our first song as a group.
           
“Well, Nomura,” I started, “you don’t have to help us all the way, but could you help us get started with some ideas? Just this once.”
           
“Sure,” she agreed. “Just this once, though.”
           
She held her finger against her lip and slightly raised her eyes to the ceiling, not saying much other than her “Hmmm” sounds.
           
Until she said, “What about dreams? Like all your dreams coming together or something?”
           
“Hmmm… An overabundance of dreams…?” Kashimoto questioningly added.
           
“Yeah!”
           
“…Dreams abound. Does that work?” I asked.
           
“Perfect!” She cheered.
           
For the remainder of lunch, we kept thinking of things to add to the main idea. Unfortunately, we didn’t really get any farther than that. Though at least—thanks to Nomura’s help—we’ve got something to start with.
           
Laying in bed that night, I kept pondering on the idea.
           
Dreams abound, huh…
           
Then I found myself wondering what Katou and LuNA would think of it. And that on its turn made me realise that I had yet to ask Katou whether she was in on the idea or not.
           
I looked at the time, it was nearly ten o’clock. I opened Katou’s number in my contact list, but I was hesitant to call.
           
Is it too late in the evening to call now?
           
I decided to just go for it. I pressed the call button and after the first beep I heard, “Koji?”
           
“Ah… Uh, good evening.” I was caught of guard by how fast she picked up.
           
“Good evening. Is something wrong?”
           
“No, I called to ask you a question. Sorry for making the call so late.”
           
“Oh, no worries, ask away!”
           
“You see, my new song is coming out this week. If that song somehow manages to get on top of the Oricon Charts and stay there for three weeks, I’ll get a concert at the Tokyo Dome—”
           
“Tokyo Dome?!” She abruptly yelled out.
           
“Yup. If I somehow manage to get it, I’d like to make a very big song for it. One with you, Kashimoto, Morita, LuNA and also me of course. So uhm, what do you think?”
           
“I’d love it! But being first on the Oricon charts… are you sure you’ll achieve such a feat this early on?”
           
“I’m confident that it’s possible.” If I’m not optimistic about it, no one will. “Though I’m also realistic about it. It wouldn’t be a let down if I don’t manage to get it. Either way, I’d love to make a song with all of us.”
           
“Even if you don’t get the big concert, I’d still love to be a part of the song!”
           
“Great, thanks! I’ll stop bothering you now. Good night.”
           
“Aw don’t say that, I’m glad you called. I can’t wait to hear your new song! Good night!”

* * *

           
“Have you seen the charts?”
           
The following week on Tuesday, almost right after school, I got a call from my producer. His voice lacked his usual enthusiasm. I knew what it was time for.
           
“I haven’t.”
           
My short answer brought me faster to the disappointment I knew I was about to face.
           
“Not on the charts this week,” he said.
           
I closed my eyes, let out a sigh and—though I knew he couldn’t possibly see it—I deeply bowed.
           
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
           
“Koji.” His voice sounded as if he was lecturing me. “It’s not over yet. I’ve already called the promotional team. We’re gonna get this thing flying. I’ll call you back when I’ve got more information. Don’t let this get you down, alright?”
           
“Alright. See you soon.”
           
My song “Luminous” has been out for about a week, but hasn’t really gotten the traction we had hoped for. I remember telling Katou that I was realistic about things and that it wouldn’t be a let down if I don’t manage to get first, but I was wrong. It hurts.

* * *

           
That same week on Saturday, I ran into LuNA again for the first time in a while. I saw her as soon as I entered the building. On the other end of the entrance hall she loudly said, “Well, well, well. Look who it isn’t.” The look on her face paired with the tone of her voice made it very clear that she wasn’t particularly happy to see me.
           
“Good morning,” I said to the lady behind the front desk on my left side.
          
I turned my head to the right and shook a regular cleaner’s hand, “Good morning, sir. Keep up the good work.”
           
I continued my way towards the elevators where the dreadful foe was awaiting me. Throwing daggers of gazes as I greeted everyone, until it was her turn.
           
“Good morning, LuNA. Always a pleasure.” I politely bowed my head and tried walking past her, but she held me by my shirt.
           
“Good morning, Mister Tokyo Dome concert. I believe we’ve got some things to talk about.” Even more annoyed than before, she glared deeply into my eyes.
           
“Do—Do we now…”
           
I ended up getting dragged to her office.
           
“So you’re telling me, that you’ve tricked me into thinking you got an actual concert at the Tokyo Dome?”
           
I was a little hesitant to reply, but I also had to keep up my confident façade to show her that I’m still trusting the process. “We will get one. We’ll just have to wait for my new song to be number one on the Oricon charts for four weeks.”
           
She was quiet for a second, which is her way of showing that she’s puzzled.
           
“You’ve got a new song?”
           
“You didn’t know?”
           
“No.”
           
“Oh.”
           
This rapid-fire style conversation quickly made things clear. The abrupt release of such an emotional song with no real backstory or anything to it, kind of makes it fail at doing what it’s supposed to do. It doesn’t reach the people in the way it’s supposed to.
           
“Do you want to hear it?” I asked.
           
“…Sure, I guess? I’m trying to display my aggravated annoyance, and you see this as music time? But yeah, music break I suppose.”
           
I went on her computer and put the song on. From my ears’ perspective, this song is undeniably good. Though I have to admit that it lacks the punch to the gut that it had when I sung it for the first time. The lack of feeling immersed in the deeper meaning of the song is what it’s lacking right now.
           
Whilst thinking that, the person next to me had tears in her eyes.
           
“I'm sorry for benig mad earlier, Koji,” she sobbed.
           
Even though she seemed to get it, I could imagine not everyone feeling the same way. That’s when I realised what the final touch was.
           
“Thank you very much LuNA, I’m heading out now.”
           
Overly kind she said, “It was nice having you here, thank you for stopping by.”
           
I already knew that this version of LuNA wouldn’t last another minute. So I cherished it by waving at her and having her wave back at me. A goodbye wave to the kind LuNA, you will be missed.
           
On the same floor I currently am is my producer’s office. I went straight to him to talk about my next big plan.
           
Earlier this week he had called me saying that he was still working with the promotional team to get something going, but it was hard getting anything done for me. But that will soon turn out to be a good thing, since I’ve got my brilliant plan this time around.
           
I opened the door of his office and greeted him, “Good morning!”
           
“Koji, you seem in good spirit today.”
           
“I’ve got a brilliant plan you see…”

* * *

           
“Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for… Kuruno Koji!!”
           
I closed my eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly raising my eyelids again. The blinding spotlights making my natural squinting look like a gaze oozing confidence. I walked onto the stage with my guitar in hand. A few hundred people’s hands clapping together distracting my gaze away from the many cameras. I sat down in the chair, leaning my guitar against the armrest.
           
Next to me sat the show’s host, a man who appears to be in his early fifties. If I remember correctly, he used to be an actor.
           
“Hello-hello Kuruno Koji. What a pleasure to have you here with us tonight. Tell me, how are you feeling?”
           
Even though this is a live late-night talk show, I was given a vague script to go by. [Funny statement, nothing about feeling until end].
           
“I’ve actually never been to a maze in my life before, until I tried finding the bathroom in this building.” A subtle chuckling swayed through the room. “Anyway, I’m doing great… at least now I am.” The classic laughter from the audience followed. I felt a drop of sweat going down my forehead, but I was off to a good start.
           
The host also laughed, quickly bringing the next topic after, “Good to hear, good to hear. For the people here, and at home, that don’t know you, could you quickly give them an introduction of yourself?”
           
[Introduction with a funny twist] is what I remembered my script saying.
           
“My name is Kuruno Koji. I’m known for having the most beautiful abdominal muscles on the planet. Oh and I also make music sometimes.”
           
The audience laughed again. Even for those who don’t know me, the joke should be obvious since I walked on stage with my guitar in hand.
           
“Ladies and gentlemen, this young man right here is funny and humble about it, but did you know that he has actually won a national music contest?”
           
The audience started applauding, so did the host while nodding his head.
           
“So Kuruno Koji. Can I call you Koji? We’re friends,” he said to the camera, “I’m calling him Koji.”
           
That little bit got the audience subtly laughing again.
           
“Anyway, Koji. Why don’t you show us what all the buzz is about.”
           
Here’s where I have to get bold. Forget the audience, forget the cameras, remember the one rule on TV; be funny. I stood up and started unbuttoning the top of my shirt.
           
“I don’t normally show this for free you know.”
           
I unbuttoned another one.
           
The host dramatically held his head in his hands, “Not the abs... The guitar!”
           
I exaggerated my reaction as well. “Oooh, the guitar. Of course,” I said as I looked into one of the cameras, buttoning my shirt up again.
           
I took my guitar from the armrest and played a couple of notes to hear if everything was in tune.
           
“So what do you think? Impressive, no?”
           
Another round of laughter from the host and the audience.
           
“Let us hear something special.” He turned back to one of the cameras. “Oh, for the people who don’t know, he’s also a singer.”
           
As the script said, I started playing Celestial Roamer, which is currently my most popular song. It’s of course sung by two people, so every time LuNA’s part came on I looked at the host and had him sing her parts.
           
LuNA has one heck of a voice which makes the host’s in comparison a joke in and of itself. The audience was once again loving it.
           
When my producer called this show’s production team earlier this morning, there was only one reason why I was allowed to be on here on such short notice.
           
“I need to reapply for my high school singing classes,” the host chuckled.
           
The sole reason why any of them would even bother having me.
           
“Anyway… Koji, there’s something that everyone’s been up in arms about. Can you guess what it is?”
           
This time seated, I started unbuttoning my shirt again.
           
“Koji. No!”
           
The audience laughed once again.
           

“I want to talk about… Fuyuko,” he mysteriously said.
           
Of course, the sole reason I’m here is because this bit could potentially make a hit piece for the show. It’s not that I’m not gaining anything from this in return though, you could say I’m killing two birds with one stone.
           
There’s not much I could say, so I simply nodded along, waiting for him to ask a question that was not revealed in the script.
           
“In your song ‘Angel no more’ you very explicitly mention the name Fuyuko. Is that the Fuyuko we’re all familiar with?”
           
I nodded my head. “Yes it is.”
           
The audience gasped.
           
“We know all the ins and outs about Fuyuko’s difficult childhood, but—correct me if I’m—you weren’t a part of that were you? Because she has never mentioned you before.”
           
I knew that this question would be asked, and I knew that I would be having a hard time phrasing my response. I didn’t waste too much time and said what I felt was right to say.
           
“I’ve recently talked to her again for the first time in… nearly six years.”
           
Another gasp from the audience, and the host.
           
“And she has very good reasons to never mention me.”
           
I went on to briefly and vaguely explain our past as orphans and how I broke a very important promise with her.
           
“Wow…” The host genuinely seemed to be at a loss for words. “Knowing all of this now, sort of gives your song a new meaning. Like… it’s a cry for the old bond you shared to return.”
           
Perhaps that’s what I was truly thinking when I wrote the song. I nodded to his comment.
           
With this, I killed the first bird; clearing up the Fuyuko situation.
           
“We’re running low on time here, so let’s get into the final topic, shall we?”
           
The second bird.
           
“Let’s talk about your most recent song,” he said in a very serious tone. “I have not heard it yet,  but what I did hear is that it’s a very touching song. Who here has heard the song?” He asked the audience.
           
About one in ten people present raised their hand.
           
“It is indeed very touching,” I said. “I sung it for the first time sitting by the window watching the snow descending its way down to the ground. I had left the hospital a few hours earlier.” I had to take a little break. Recalling what I felt back then was really getting to me. “The night before, my father got into a crash— into a car crash and uhm…” I was brushing my thumb against the ends of my eyebrows, struggling again to put in words what I’m meaning to say. “I knew the chances, I was told too, that the chances of him surviving were really low. I thought… I thought I lost him.”
           
The host was letting me speak, listening to me with a very compassionate expression on his face.
           
“That’s why I started playing a very depressing tune on my guitar and sung the words that came,” I touched my chest, “right here, from the heart.”
           
“That’s beautiful,” the host said, right before applauding, getting the audience to do the same. “How is your father doing currently?” He asked.
           
“He’s still recovering, but everything will be fine,” I said.
           
Both the host and the audience seemed relieved to hear that.
           
Soon after, the host asked, “If you don’t mind, do you think you could play the song for us?”
           
I grabbed my guitar again. This was essentially the sole reason I came here. Letting the people know the story behind the song, told in the purest and rawest manner, right from the heart.
           
“The song is called ‘Luminous’,” I said.
           
I played the song, sang it with the most heartfelt emotion and felt the atmosphere completely changing. My sound was moving the people in the room. This was the true power of music on display.
           
After the applause at the end of the song, my bit on the show came to an end. Earlier this morning, I stormed into my producer’s office with a wild idea, getting me on a live show where I could tell my story and play the song as well. I was hoping I could get it done by the end of next week, but Lady Luck was on my side as many shows we reached out to would’ve loved to have me as soon as possible.
           
The Fuyuko situation was slowly dying out, that’s why they wanted to take a bite out of the hot topic before it turned cold.
           
Now I was left with one final task and one final prayer for luck. The task; getting everyone together to make our Dreams Abound song. Many times have I been struck by Lady Luck’s grace, I’ll be needing one final ounce of luck; getting my song to the number one spot on the Oricon charts for three consecutive weeks.