The lights of Shibuya never seemed to sleep. Even at midnight, the streets were alive, cars rushing past, neon signs flickering, and crowds weaving in and out of narrow lanes filled with music shops, arcades, and bars. Kenji walked through the buzz, his hood pulled low over his face, clutching a small flyer in his hand.
It was for a local underground music competition: "Rising Sounds: Tokyo's Hidden Voices."
He had stumbled upon it earlier that day while passing a record store. Something about the bold letters, the promise of raw talent being discovered, and the small stage where hundreds of hopefuls would pour out their souls, something about it had made his chest tighten with both fear and excitement.
Kenji stared at the flyer, reading the line over and over again: Winner gets a studio recording session and promotion to one of Japan's top producers.
For an ordinary boy from a rundown neighborhood, this was like touching the edge of a dream.
And yet, his voice whispered doubt. "Can I really do this?"
The System didn't hesitate to answer.
[System Notification: Host is experiencing doubt. Confidence Boost Module activated.]
[New Temporary Quest: Perform in "Rising Sounds" competition. Reward: +5 Vocal Resonance, +200 Experience.]
Kenji froze, his pulse quickening. "So even the System… it wants me to step up?"
He let out a shaky laugh. "I guess I don't have much of a choice."
The night before the competition, Kenji didn't sleep. He sat by his small desk, scribbling lyrics and humming melodies, his golden-brown eyes fixed on the notepad as if his entire future rested on these words. His voice cracked sometimes, but he pushed through. Every mistake became another chance to sharpen his sound.
By dawn, exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but his song was ready.
The venue was nothing like the grand stages he'd fantasized about. It was a dim underground bar tucked away in Shibuya, with only a small platform for performers and a crowd that pressed in close, half drunk, half curious. The smell of alcohol lingered in the air, but there was a crackle of energy that made Kenji's skin prickle.
Dozens of singers had already gone before him, some good, some forgettable. Each time, the crowd clapped politely, then turned back to their drinks.
When Kenji's name was called, his stomach knotted. His legs felt like stone as he climbed the three small steps to the stage. A single spotlight cut through the haze, landing on him.
"Kenji Sato." The host gave a half-smile. "First-timer, huh? Let's hear what you've got."
The microphone was cold against his hand. For a moment, Kenji felt the weight of the crowd's stares pressing on him, their whispers gnawing at his mind.
But then the System chimed softly.
[System Notification: Stage Performance Mode activated.]
[Bonus: +3 to Stage Presence for the duration of the performance.]
Kenji inhaled, closed his eyes, and began to sing.
His voice started low, trembling like the first stirrings of dawn. But as the melody rose, so did his strength. Every note he released seemed to ripple across the room, weaving through the smoky air, cutting past laughter and chatter until silence fell. The words he had scribbled through the night now carried weight, each lyric echoing the struggles he had lived, the hope he refused to give up.
By the time he reached the chorus, his voice soared.
It wasn't flawless, there were cracks, slight imperfections, but those flaws were human, real, and raw. And that was what held the audience captive.
When the last note faded, there was a heartbeat of silence. Then, unexpectedly, applause erupted. Not polite, not forced, genuine applause that filled the bar, louder than anything Kenji had ever heard directed at him before.
He lowered the microphone, his chest heaving. His heart felt like it might burst.
Somewhere in the crowd, he caught sight of a girl with long black hair, clapping with tears in her eyes. He didn't know who she was, but in that moment, he realized something profound.
This was just the beginning.
The spark of fame had been lit.