Chapter 10. We Need Air!
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Shirakawa Atsushi never imagined that the call he received just this morning would lead to the President of that very company sitting in his home by the afternoon.
He currently lived in a tiny apartment of less than 30 square meters. The place was a mess—except for a relatively tidy electric piano, there was barely any space to step.
After Kiyoshi Yuuma entered, Shirakawa hurriedly cleared out a spot in a panic and served tea for both of them.
Though most Japanese people don't have much at home, they usually do have tea.
"Sorry for the inconvenience," said Kiyoshi Yuuma, holding the teacup as he silently observed Shirakawa Atsushi.
He was a small-statured man with a round face—just like most Japanese people these days. If you put him in a crowd, he'd be the kind of person you wouldn't notice at first glance.
There had been a meme online in his previous life that summed it up perfectly:
The fake video game composer: Cool, trendy hair styled to perfection. Wears sunglasses, aloof and mysterious. Sharp jawline and dashing profile. Dresses in flashy cyberpunk fashion. No belly fat. Ripped with an eight-pack. Wears a luxury watch. Hands in pockets, radiating rebellious charisma.
The real video game composer: Fluffy, messy hair. Round cheeks. Plain black T-shirt. Eyes firm and deep. Has a little belly. Strong hands. Radiates a down-to-earth, unpretentious aura.
As Kiyoshi Yuuma was sizing him up, Shirakawa was also silently observing this company President.
He is handsome and tall. This guy looks more like a celebrity than someone in the gaming industry. Why on earth is he making games?
In this day and age, it was genuinely surprising for a company President to personally visit a prospective hire.
…
Kiyoshi Yuuma briefly introduced himself, the company Pokeni, and his reason for coming. Then, with sincere intent, he said: "If you join our company, Shirakawa-san, we will do our best to offer you a top-level salary."
Shirakawa lowered his head and didn't respond immediately.
In fact, Kiyoshi Yuuma's words made him frown.
"But... why me? I mean, I don't think I'm talented. I'm just a newcomer, and I don't have any major works to my name. Why would the President choose me to compose music for your company's game?"
You know, there were tons of unemployed musicians out there right now. Many of them had far more experience and qualifications. Why would President Kiyoshi choose him instead of those veterans?
"That's because..."
Shirakawa was still a complete rookie at this point, with no notable works whatsoever. Kiyoshi Yuuma racked his brain and couldn't even come up with a flattering line.
He couldn't exactly say, "Because I can see the future. I know you'll achieve great things in music, become Shinkai Makoto's exclusive composer, and stand shoulder to shoulder with Hisaishi Joe."
Tenmon's most famous piece, "Cherry Blossom Extract," wouldn't even be composed until 2007.
"That's because I've seen your résumé," Kiyoshi Yuuma said with a sigh. "Actually, we already did a certain level of background research on you. We know your strengths and preferred musical style. You're the kind of composer whose music calms the soul, offering healing and emotional solace—pure and unblemished. That's exactly the kind of soundtrack our new project needs. You are, without a doubt, the perfect candidate we've been searching for."
Nani?!
Ayase Akane, listening from the side, was completely stunned. President, are you serious? That was some top-tier lying! When did we ever run a background check on Shirakawa-san?
And how would we even know what kind of music he likes?
The President is playing such a bold game… isn't this way too risky?!
…
However, upon observing the changes in Shirakawa Atsushi's expression, Ayase Akane was secretly taken aback.
Huh?!
This guy… actually fell for it?!
It was obvious when Shirakawa heard Kiyoshi Yuuma's words, his eyes were filled with deep shock, like his soul had been hit directly by a fastball.
This reaction was actually inevitable. Because at this time, mainstream game music, due to hardware limitations, couldn't yet produce the kind of rich, layered effects that would come later, and most games still leaned heavily toward electronic and rock music.
In his previous life, before meeting Shinkai Makoto, Shirakawa Atsushi hadn't discovered his true strength in healing-style music. He had just gone with the flow, composing generic game soundtracks without even developing a personal style.
But deep down, he had always loved music that could move the soul—the kind of pure and resonant works that Hisaishi Joe created.
He had simply never encountered the right platform to express it.
And now, Kiyoshi Yuuma's words had clearly struck a chord in his heart.
"I…"
Shirakawa opened his mouth, but the moment he uttered a syllable, his throat tightened with emotion.
He cleared his throat, trying to steady his feelings, and sighed. "Thank you, President, for thinking so highly of me… but honestly, I really don't have much confidence in whether I can do a good job composing game music."
What Shirakawa said was the plain truth. As someone who had never composed for games before, being asked to take on the full responsibility of an entire game's soundtrack from the start was understandably overwhelming.
Think about it: asking a freshly graduated college student to immediately lead a major project—even if you had the guts, he probably wouldn't.
"Shirakawa-san, why not just give it a try?" Kiyoshi Yuuma encouraged him. "No one is born standing at the top of the pyramid. But if you never try, how will you ever know whether you can or can't?"
Some things really do depend on talent.
And music is one of them.
"Emmmm…" Shirakawa tilted his head and thought for a moment. "I still feel that, at my current age and level of experience, it would be better to follow someone else and learn more first."
Tch.
Is this guy a rock or what?
So stubborn, and buried in self-doubt like mud.
"How about this then: take a look at our game proposal first. I think you'll be really interested in the project." Kiyoshi Yuuma placed the plan on the tea table and pushed it toward Shirakawa.
The latter nodded. "Alright."
Shirakawa Atsushi took the proposal and politely said to Kiyoshi Yuuma, "President, I'll definitely read it carefully."
Honestly, by this point, his words were already hinting at: "Let's call it a day for now" or "Give me some time to think it over." But out of politeness, Shirakawa didn't go so far as to directly say: "You can leave now."
However, Kiyoshi Yuuma showed no intention of leaving whatsoever.
Hey!
Even the little HR beside him was getting anxious on his behalf.
President, air! We need air!
Can't you read the room?!
Reading the mood is something Japanese people train for from childhood. Not causing trouble for others is considered a virtue. But this President didn't seem to understand any of that.
Kiyoshi Yuuma had absolutely no intention of leaving. He simply waited quietly, hoping to see Shirakawa Atsushi read the proposal carefully.
…
And so Shirakawa had no choice but to bite the bullet and start flipping through it.
At first, he was clearly reluctant, but after seriously reading for a while, he began to get absorbed.
Before long, he was already drawn in.
In his mind, beautiful scenes were taking shape—elegant, romantic onmyoji, stories of humans and youkai…
And with them, the melodies in his heart began to sound.