Kenji didn't need to look up to feel the tension pressing against him. Ryo's eyes had been following him all day like daggers drawn. Every step in the hallway, every whisper of students humming Chains, only seemed to sharpen that blade.
By the time the last class ended, Ryo made his move.
He cornered Kenji by the shoe lockers, his followers at his back. The chatter of students faded as silence spread, everyone sensing the storm about to break.
"Enjoying your fifteen minutes of fame?" Ryo's voice was low, mocking. "Don't mistake the crowd's pity for real talent."
Kenji tightened his grip on his bag strap but kept his voice steady. "They're not pitying me. They're listening."
Ryo's lips curled. "Listening? Please. They're only chasing the next shiny thing. Do you think you can compete with me? I've trained for years. I've bled for this stage. And you—" he jabbed a finger at Kenji's chest, "—you're just a fluke."
The words might have once shattered Kenji. But now, he felt something else stir. A voice inside him.
> [System Alert: Rival Pressure Detected.]
[Mission Updated: Outperform Ryo in the next live contest.]
[Reward: Passive Skill – Confidence Aura.]
Kenji's breath caught. Confidence Aura. The very thing he had lacked for so long.
But to earn it, he had to face Ryo again.
"I'll see you on the stage," Kenji said quietly, golden eyes unflinching.
A ripple of shock ran through the students watching. No one had ever spoken to Ryo like that.
For a moment, Ryo's smirk faltered. Then he laughed, sharp and cold. "Fine. Don't regret it. There's a city contest in two weeks. I'll crush you in front of a real audience. No schoolyard clapping, no half-baked songs. Just talent. You'll be nothing but a footnote."
He shoved past, his entourage trailing, but his glare lingered. It wasn't just mockery anymore. It was challenge.
Kenji returned home, his heart pounding with the weight of those words. A city contest. Not just classmates, but strangers. Judges. Real competition.
He sat on his bed, staring at his hands. They trembled—not with fear, but with anticipation.
Two weeks. Two weeks to sharpen himself, to rise higher.
"System," he whispered. "Open the studio."
The Virtual Studio unfolded around him, its instruments glowing like embers in the dark.
> [Recommendation: Focus Training. Timeframe: 14 days.]
The console displayed options: Vocal Range Expansion Training. Breath Control Drills. Lyricism Enhancement. Emotional Resonance Practice.
Kenji swallowed hard. He wanted all of it.
"Start with Vocal Range."
> [Confirmed. Training begins.]
His throat ached as he practiced scale after scale, pushing his voice higher, lower, stretching limits he'd never dared to touch. Sweat clung to his skin even though his body remained seated in his room. Every note felt like tearing down walls inside his chest.
Hours blurred into the night.
By the time the session ended, Kenji collapsed on his bed, panting, voice hoarse but stronger than ever.
> [Progress: 15% toward Vocal Range Expansion.]
Kenji closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling him under. But he fell asleep smiling.
The next morning, Haru slapped a flyer down on his desk before homeroom.
"City Youth Music Contest," Haru said. "Guess who signed up already?"
Kenji stared at the bold letters, his pulse quickening. The stage would be bigger, the crowd harsher, the pressure real.
He knew Ryo would be there.
Haru leaned close, eyes blazing. "This is it, Kenji. The chance to prove you're not just some viral accident. The chance to shut that smug bastard up for good."
Kenji gripped the flyer, the paper crinkling under his fingers. "Yeah. This is where it begins."
But not everyone in the class was supportive. Whispers spread again—not cruel like before, but doubtful.
"Does he really think he can beat Ryo?"
"Ryo's been training for years."
"Kenji's good, but… city level? That's another world."
Kenji heard it all, but he didn't flinch. Doubt was fuel now. Every sneer, every question, every shadow of disbelief—they only stoked the fire inside him.
By the time the final bell rang, he was already planning. Songs. Practice. Training.
And as he walked home, his phone buzzed.
A new comment on Chains.
Username: StarrySky.
"I heard about the contest. Don't stop, Kenji. I'll be cheering for you."
Kenji stopped in the middle of the street, staring at the glowing words. His chest tightened.
For so long, he had no one. Now… he had people who believed in him.
The corners of his mouth lifted into a determined smile.
Two weeks. He would rise higher, stronger, louder. And when the stage lights hit him, he would not be the broken singer anymore.
He would be the one no one could ignore.