Chapter 66 : Reach the Ends of the Sky (3)

The cool night breeze on the rooftop brushed against my cheek.

The sheet music in my hand, A Letter Sent to the Sky.

I felt Yun Hayeon’s quiet gaze.

I let out the first note.

My voice was added on top of the city’s noise.

The softly starting melody gradually spread out into the night sky.

At first, Yun Hayeon’s expression was simply serious, but as the song continued, line by line, I could see her expression subtly hardening, as if she couldn’t believe it.

Like fragile glass, ready to shatter at any moment, her eyes shook violently, following each breath.

Why was that?

Even though I had never seen the sheet music before, this song felt so familiar.

I knew instinctively how to convey the emotion in the song, and how to breathe as I sang, as if I had known it for a long time.

Despite my entire musical experience being limited to playing a few pieces by Czerny back in my childhood piano lessons.

The sadness and longing hidden in each note.

The faint, wistful emotion.

I could feel all those emotions flowing out through my voice.

Perhaps this was the power of the song.

It wasn’t me singing this song.

It was like I was using my voice to sing to myself.

It felt distinctly different from usual.

Before, when I listened to a song, I could feel the empty space between the notes.

It wasn’t the beauty of blank spaces, but a simple emptiness. 

A sense of precariousness.

My role was to fill that empty space in a better way.

Then the song would become more complete, more abundant.

At first, I thought it was just my misunderstanding, but through Rydel—Kim Hayun’s live performance, I realized it wasn’t just my illusion.

On the other hand, at least for this song, it was different.

A song that was nearly perfect.

Even the parts that seemed lacking were intentional dissonances for building emotional tension.

This made it impossible for me to create any variation.

It was impossible to make it better.

Perhaps it was because of the song’s perfection that I was instinctively drawn to it.

As the chorus approached, the emotions grew deeper.

A song about missing someone.

Looking at the lyrics, it felt like a love song, missing a lover, but it had a subtly different atmosphere from a simple love song.

It didn’t matter what it was. 

It felt good.

My part was only to breathe life into the sheet music and transform it into music that could be heard.

The tenderness carried by my voice spread through the night air.

Like a desperate letter sent to someone far away.

Finally, the last note faded away.

A moment of silence followed.

On the rooftop of the gosiwon, only the sound of the night wind and the occasional pulse of the city from a distance could be heard.

“……”

Yun Hayeon couldn’t say anything.

She just stared at me blankly, as if she had forgotten to even breathe.

Tears had formed around her eyes.

The transparent tears, like dew, hung precariously.

“……”

In the awkward silence, I scratched my head.

Asking “How was the song?” seemed a little too awkward for the moment.

How much time had passed?

Yun Hayeon wiped her tears with her sleeve.

She opened her mouth in a small voice.

Her tone was trembling, full of emotion.

“Seoyeno-ssi…”

She couldn’t continue and took a deep breath again.

“It was… so good.”

A simple answer.

But her voice was still trembling.

“The things I wanted to express in this song, the emotions I couldn’t fully convey when I sang it… You, Seoyeno-ssi, are expressing them more precisely… more deeply than I could.”

She took a deep breath, as if trying to calm herself down for a moment.

But at the same time, she seemed impatient, as if she needed to do something right away.

“We need to record… I have to capture this feeling exactly as it is. Ah, no. The arrangement… How should I keep this feeling while arranging it… Ah, really.”

Sniffling, she mumbled in confusion, then looked at me again.

“Anyway, my song can be perfected with your voice, Seoyeno-ssi.”

Then, suddenly, as if realizing she had missed something important, she carefully looked me over.

“…But, I’m really sorry, but if it’s not too rude, may I ask who you are?”

She asked cautiously.

“If someone can sing like this… could you… be a singer? Or do you major in something like vocals or opera?”

An awkward silence followed.

I found myself unconsciously looking away and scratching the back of my head.

Ah… what should I say?

“Well… it’s… I’m not a singer…”

I had to answer honestly.

“I’m just… an aspiring streamer.”

At my answer, Yun Hayeon’s eyes widened.

***

“An aspiring streamer?”

Yun Hayeon’s eyes grew bigger than ever. 

In fact, it seemed like she was more surprised now than when she first heard my singing.

Well, I could understand that. 

Before, she had probably guessed I was a singer or a vocal major.

I awkwardly smiled and nodded.

“Yeah… I haven’t even debuted yet… well, I haven’t been allowed on the platform yet.”

It was a bit embarrassing.

Saying I was an aspiring streamer made me feel like I sounded pretty insignificant.

If I had debuted on a broadcast, I could have made a little white lie, saying something like, “I sometimes do music broadcasts” to introduce myself. 

That might have made me seem a bit more professional.

But the platform had still not granted me permission, as if it were on a collective vacation. 

I couldn’t get approval for broadcasting.

So, in the end, the title “aspiring streamer” was all I had, which felt pretty poor.

“I see… Ah, I also watch internet broadcasts sometimes.”

Yun Hayeon, noticing that I was feeling a bit deflated, quickly spoke up.

“So, are you planning to sing my song on a broadcast later? Or is there something else…?”

Thankfully, it didn’t seem like she was disappointed.

Her voice carried genuine curiosity.

Moreover, she said she watched internet broadcasts sometimes, so that was a relief.

I cautiously explained my situation.

“Well… actually, in a month… there’s something called the Pixel Wars Streamer Server Finale Concert. I’m going to participate in that…”

I explained that I had joined a streamer server with famous broadcasters, and I would be performing in the final concert there.

After saying that, I couldn’t help but feel a bit worried.

No matter how much it’s a big concert with many popular streamers participating, it’s still just a performance held in a game event server, not an offline concert.

From Yun Hayeon’s perspective, if it’s just a concert in a game, wouldn’t she be disappointed?

If she thought her precious song was only going to be sung in such a place, she might not find it satisfying.

“So, even a streamer with a million subscribers on YouTube is participating…”

I tried to emphasize that even famous people were joining, but somehow, the more I said it, the worse it sounded.

I wondered if it was a bad idea to say that, but her reaction was completely different from what I expected.

“The Pixel Wars streamer server concert?!”

Suddenly, a bright smile appeared on Yun Hayeon’s face, which had been calm until then.

“Wow! I watch that all the time! I always watch it before bed and then fall asleep!”

“Really?”

I was more surprised by her unexpected reaction.

It seems like she wasn’t lying about watching internet broadcasts sometimes.

I could tell just by looking at her lively face.

And if she watches internet broadcasts these days, it would be almost impossible not to know about the Pixel Wars streamer server.

All the big-name streamers from major companies gather there and make a lot of noise—it’s hard not to know about it.

“Yes! There’s a lot to watch because so many streamers gather. There are always incidents happening… like the Golem bug? It was really fun watching the boss monster being defeated with something like that.”

Ah, could she be talking about my story?

I recalled the time I used Aegis’ Golem to defeat the event raid boss, Star Demon.

“It wasn’t a bug. It was just an intelligent play using the system…”

I wanted to say that, but I kept my mouth shut, thinking it might sound unnecessary.

“Oh, I think that’s why your voice sounded familiar earlier…”

Yun Hayeon tilted her head and looked at me again. 

She seemed to be trying to remember something.

“I’m sure I’ve heard that voice somewhere before… Could it be… Seoyeno-ssi…?”

After a moment of hesitation, her eyes widened again. 

She clapped her hands and shouted.

“Silver Hair -nim! Right? Silver Hair Silver Hair-nim!”

“Ah.”

Somehow, it felt embarrassing, so I hid my face with my long silver hair.

In truth, I had kind of expected this situation.

I had been regularly appearing on Rydel’s broadcast while I was active on the server.

There must be many people who recognize my voice.

And since she’s a singer-songwriter, she would be more sensitive to things like voices than ordinary people.

Having sung in front of someone with such a sensitive ear wasn’t strange at all.

“It’s me. I’m Silver Hair Silver Hair …”

It was something I couldn’t hide anymore, so I admitted it honestly.

“Wow, I always thought your voice was amazing, but I didn’t know you’d be such a cute person.”

The melancholic atmosphere from when we first met seemed to have disappeared. 

Yun Hayeon’s face was now flushed with color.

It was the kind of reaction you’d have when seeing a TV personality from a show you regularly watch… which, well, was true.

“But… how did you recognize me?”

Could she be one of Rydel’s viewers?

No, it might be from someone else’s stream. 

I had appeared on various other streamers’ broadcasts from time to time.

In response to my question, Yun Hayeon gave a shy smile and answered.

“Hehe, I watch Argon-nim’s stream. I saw you appear there too.”

Former pro gamer and current Rune Slayer, Argon.

It was truly unexpected to meet one of his fans in a place like this.