Kotaro's hands flew to his mouth. "Brother! We should at least go to the practice room! The acoustics in here are—"
"If he's as good as you claim, the room won't matter," Ichigo countered without looking at him.
Sora stepped forward, hands sliding casually into his pockets. He surveyed the silent office—the bare walls, the closed windows, the hard surfaces that would bounce and distort sound.
"No piano? No track?" He cocked his head. "A cappella is a cruel stage, Saitou-san."
Ichigo's expression remained unmoved. The silent "Proceed" hung in the air between them.
Sora closed his eyes. In the darkness behind his lids, he let the office dissolve away. The stiff chair beneath Ichigo transformed into the first row of a massive concert hall. The desk between them vanished, replaced by the empty space of a stage. He felt the cool brush of stage lights against his skin, heard the expectant hush of an invisible audience.
He took a deep breath.
What the—
The air rushed into his lungs with an ease and capacity he'd never experienced. His diaphragm engaged automatically, his ribcage expanding with perfect control. This body wasn't just beautiful on the outside; it was an instrument built for performance, fine-tuned and ready.
For the first time since awakening in this new life, Sora felt a genuine thrill of excitement. This wasn't just a pretty face. This was a weapon.
He opened his eyes, looking past Ichigo toward that imaginary audience. When the first notes left his lips, they came not as a shout but as an intimate whisper that made the air in the room vibrate.
"Birds flying high... you know how I feel..."
His voice was smoke and honey, the words barely audible yet filling every corner of the room. Ichigo's crossed arms loosened. He leaned forward, just an inch, but enough for Sora to notice.
"Sun in the sky... you know how I feel..."
Kotaro had gone completely still, a state Sora hadn't thought possible for the manic producer. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles white.
"Reeds driftin' on by... you know how I feel..."
Sora's voice swelled, gaining warmth and depth. He'd sung this song a hundred times on street corners in his past life, but never like this. Never with this body. Never with this voice.
"It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life..."
From the corner of his eye, he saw movement at the door. A face appeared in the gap, eyes widening. Then another. And another. The staff of Strawberry Productions, drawn like moths to a flame.
Sora felt his lips curve into a smile. This was what he was built for. This was power.
For the next line, he unleashed everything. Every memory of pain from his past life, every moment of invisibility, every night spent cold and hungry and alone on the streets while people walked past, tossing coins without really seeing him.
"For meeeeeeeeeeee..."
Then, as the note began to fade, he pulled back, dropping his voice to a satisfied purr.
"And I'm feeling good."
For three full seconds after the last note faded, the room was utterly still. No one moved. No one spoke. Kotaro wasn't even breathing, his chest frozen mid-inhale.
The silence broke with a sound from the doorway—spontaneous, startled applause. Five or six employees had gathered, their faces bright with disbelief and excitement.
Sora finally looked directly at Ichigo. The pen the man had been holding had slipped from his fingers and rolled across the desk. His jaw had gone slack, his composed demeanor cracked wide open. He stared at Sora as though trying to reconcile what he'd just heard with what was possible from a human voice.
Beside him, Kotaro's sunglasses had fogged up. Actual tears were streaming down his face, dripping onto his bow tie. His mouth opened and closed several times, but for once, no sound emerged. There was no need for an "I told you so." His expression said it all.
Sora let a slow smile curve his lips. He finally looked at Ichigo, holding his gaze, and asked softly, "well?"
Ichigo cleared his throat, visibly working to rebuild his professional facade. "That was... unexpected."
"UNEXPECTED?!" Kotaro finally exploded, finding his voice. "That was TRANSCENDENT! EXTRAORDINARY! I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU HE WAS THE ONE!"
Ichigo held up a hand, silencing his brother. He leaned forward, studying Sora with new intensity.
"Where did you learn to sing like that?"
Sora shrugged one shoulder, the picture of casual confidence. "Self-taught, mostly. You pick things up when you need to survive."
It wasn't entirely a lie. In his previous life, his voice had been his only valuable asset, the only thing that made people stop long enough to toss money into his hat.
"Extraordinary," Ichigo murmured. "Your technique is..." He paused, searching for the right word. "It's unlike anything I've heard. There are elements of classical training, but the emotional delivery..." He shook his head. "Who are your influences?"
"I've always been more interested in developing my own sound," he said carefully. "But I listen to everything."
Ichigo nodded slowly, accepting this non-answer. "My brother wasn't exaggerating about your potential. That's... rare."
From the doorway, one of the staff members called out, "Is he joining PRISM? Because if not, I want to sign him myself!"
Laughter rippled through the small crowd. Ichigo shot them a look, and they scattered, though not without backward glances at Sora.
"I believe introductions are in order," Ichigo said, standing. "The rest of PRISM is waiting in the practice room. We should—"
"JUST A MOMENT!" Kotaro thrust himself between them, wiping tears from beneath his sunglasses. "I think we need to acknowledge what just happened here! My brother, the GREAT Ichigo Saitou, who has never been wrong about talent, just had his MIND BLOWN by MY discovery!" He whirled to face Ichigo. "Tell me I was right! SAY IT!"
Ichigo sighed, a long-suffering sound that suggested this was a familiar dynamic. "Yes, Kotaro. You were right. This time."
"THIS TIME?! This time and EVERY TIME! The Saitou brothers are BACK, baby!" Kotaro flung his arms around both Ichigo and Sora, pulling them into an awkward three-way hug. "Now we just need to introduce our SUPERSTAR to his new bandmates and start planning world domination!"
Ichigo extracted himself from his brother's grip, adjusting his suit jacket. "I think we should start with a proper contract before 'world domination,' don't you?"
"Details, details!" Kotaro waved dismissively. "PRISM is going to EXPLODE onto the scene! We'll worry about paperwork later!"
"No," Ichigo said firmly. "We'll worry about paperwork now." He turned to Sora. "I'll have our legal team draft a standard contract for your review. In the meantime, I think it's best if you meet the others. They've been... anxious about their new member."
The way he said "anxious" made Sora suspect this was an understatement.
"Lead the way," Sora said with a nod.
As they walked down the hallway toward the practice room, Kotaro bounced alongside Sora, chattering non-stop.
"Did you SEE his FACE? Ichigo NEVER looks surprised! You broke his brain! This is HISTORICAL! HISTORICAL!"
Sora glanced at Ichigo, who walked slightly ahead of them. The man's shoulders were tense, his pace brisk.
"Your brother doesn't seem that impressed," Sora observed quietly.
Kotaro leaned in, lowering his voice to what was, for him, a whisper—which meant it was merely at a normal conversational volume.
"That's because you didn't just impress him," Kotaro said, tapping the side of his nose knowingly. "You scared him."
"Scared him?"
"He's thinking about Ai right now," Kotaro nodded sagely. "He's thinking about what happens when someone like you challenges someone like her. The center of B-Komachi. His precious golden goose."
"Is she really that good?" Sora asked, genuinely curious.
Kotaro's expression turned serious, a rare moment of sincerity breaking through his manic persona. "She's the best I've ever seen. Until today."
They stopped outside a door marked "Practice Room 1." From inside, Sora could hear muffled voices—male, young, with varying tones of annoyance and boredom.
"Ready to meet your new family?" Kotaro grinned, hand on the doorknob.
Sora took a deep breath, feeling that new, powerful chest expand. "Let's do this."
Ichigo stepped forward, putting a hand on Kotaro's arm to stop him from bursting in. "A word of advice," he said to Sora, his voice low and serious. "PRISM has been through a lot. Their original center abandoned them for a solo career. They were on the verge of disbandment when my brother acquired them. They're talented, but they're wounded. And they're not going to trust you right away, no matter how well you sing."
"I don't need their trust," Sora replied. "I just need them to follow my lead."
Ichigo's eyebrows rose slightly. "That attitude might work on stage, but off stage, you're all equals. Remember that."
Before Sora could respond, Kotaro flung the door open.
"GENTLEMEN! May I present to you the FUTURE of PRISM! Your new center, the boy with the voice that will launch a THOUSAND SHIPS! SORA AMAMOTO!"
Four pairs of eyes turned to stare at Sora. Four very different expressions, ranging from open curiosity to thinly-veiled hostility.
Kotaro pushed him forward into the room. "Sora, meet your new bandmates! Ryuu, our lead vocalist and unofficial mother hen!"
A tall, slender young man with glasses and immaculate posture gave a slight, formal nod. His expression was carefully neutral, but his eyes were sharp behind his frames, assessing.
"Ryota, our main dancer and resident wild beast!"
A muscular young man with a contradictory face—delicate features atop a powerful body—glared at Sora. "Ryota doesn't like pretty boys," he growled, referring to himself in the third person.
"Seiji, our lead rapper and baby of the group!"
A boy with spiky pink hair grinned and bounced up from his seat. "Nice to meet you! Your hair is awesome! Is that your natural color?"
"And finally, Daisuke, our composer and lyricist!"
The oldest of the group, a quiet young man with thoughtful eyes, simply inclined his head. "Welcome," he said softly.
Sora took them in, these four strangers who were supposedly his new "family."
"It's good to finally meet you all," Sora said, his voice smooth and confident. "I've heard a lot about your talents. I look forward to seeing them in action." He paused, letting his gaze travel over each of them.
"And I look forward to showing you mine."