The air on the day I couldn't sing, the harsh lights that stabbed my eyes, and even the silence.
“This is truly the last song.”
I never imagined those words would become so real.

My voice was choked, and my emotions vanished.
I stood on stage, but I didn't feel like myself.
I couldn't even utter a single lyric properly before I put the microphone down.
The members stopped playing without looking at me.
The encouragement and cheers continued, but I heard nothing.
Since that day, I, Seo Taeyul, abandoned the title of vocalist for the popular rock band Meruhen.

People said the reason for Meruhen's breakup was artistic pride.
They weren't wrong.
That was my problem.
I was a person left with nothing but pride.
Maybe it was greed.
Some called music an 'industry,' and I hated that.
Music that was monetized, packaged, and distributed.
That's how I clashed with the members, and the stage disappeared.
Hiding both my name and my face.

I didn't listen to music for a long time.
Sleep wouldn't come, and my mind was hazy.
I didn't even know who I was anymore.
Then one day, an advertisement popped up by chance.
"Rururing's Perfect Days."
It was a virtual idol rhythm game.

At first, I scoffed.
Fluorescent pink hair and sparkling eyes—it looked like a product made exclusively for otaku, no matter who saw it.
But...
'Singing is what kept me alive.'
The moment I heard that line, I thought my breath would stop.
Because those were the exact words I had wanted to convey on stage.

At first, it was just a passing interest. Then came one SSR card, then another.
The story where Rururing cried on stage, the story where she laughed alone in an empty practice room on a rainy day.
They were too similar.
Both the person I wanted to be and everything I failed to protect.
Rururing wasn't just a character.
She was the existence that made me want to sing again.

And—today.
That sight of someone tripping while holding a tray in the cafe.
That expression, that composition, the scattered sugar dust... it was exactly the scene from the card.
My heart pounded like crazy.
It felt like lightning had struck inside my head.
When he lifted his head, I just spoke.

"...Rururing...?"
That person looked at me, startled. Even that look of confusion was perfect.
I am certain.
This isn't coincidence or recreation—this is a gift-like opportunity given by a god who took pity on me.