"This was the inspiration we planned to use for the next song, before you joined us, Kyo-chan."
Uika pulled up the document she'd been searching for on the computer, presenting it to Kikukawa Kyo.
"Let me take a look." Brimming with excitement, Kyo immediately leaned in, studying it curiously.
The document itself wasn't particularly lengthy. To an outsider, it might even seem nonsensical—just a few lines resembling dialogue between two people discussing something vague.
If this text were meant as lyrics, anyone could sense that the phrasing was rather awkward.
Awkward, meaning if you were to sing this as a song, it wouldn't feel catchy at all. Sure, some songs intentionally used complex wording to artificially appear deep and cultured, but what Uika had written here…
"Love is a truly wonderful thing, leading us into a world that belongs solely to each other…"
Suddenly, Kyo picked out a passage and began reciting it aloud.
It wasn't musical singing, nor was it just plain reading. Instead, she deliberately modulated her voice, injecting deep emotion into the sparse lines. Even her body movements followed—one hand pressing softly against her heart, the other reaching outward, as if yearning to grasp that elusive, beautiful love.
In this instant, Kyo became one of the anonymous pair from the dialogue, passionately proclaiming the beauty of love to the other.
It was an impromptu performance—abruptly begun, hastily ended—but through it, Kyo understood clearly what Uika was envisioning.
"I see. Uika's idea is similar to a 'play', isn't it?"
Kyo laughed lightly, pinpointing exactly what made Uika's writing so unique. Viewed as theatrical dialogue, the awkwardness instantly made sense. After all, while opera still existed, its style differed vastly from that of typical pop songs.
"Yes." At this point, Uika wasn't surprised that Kyo had grasped her intent so effortlessly. "Of course, it's not entirely imitating theater. Simply put, it's lyrics written in a conversational style, as if each performer is acting out a character—performing, interacting, and clashing with each other on stage, all within the span of one song."
"Doesn't it sound exciting?" Mana chimed in enthusiastically from the side.
Indeed, for a small group like sumimi—initially just a duo, now expanded to three with Kyo's addition—it was a clever idea. It held a certain novelty, especially for idols whose fans were deeply invested in the performers themselves. Lyrics styled as dialogue could naturally emphasize interactions among the members, easily driving fans to a fever pitch.
"Definitely more interesting than just singing straightforwardly." Kyo agreed wholeheartedly, but then something suddenly seemed to delight her further. "It also seems like a format a certain someone would really enjoy."
"A certain someone?" Mana tilted her head curiously.
"Ah, don't mind me—just a friend. I think she'd enjoy this 'theatrical' style a lot."
Kyo waved off the topic casually, brushing away the small detail.
As time passed, Kyo's unusually high spirits showed no sign of fading. Instead, her eyes grew brighter, shimmering softly with a watery sheen.
At first glance, one might think she was about to burst into tears. But those glistening lights only accentuated the deep, lively ocean in her gaze, giving it true emotion.
She began to grow even more uninhibited. The earlier mention of theater had flipped a switch inside her; spontaneously, she began to glide into elegant, theatrical steps—slowly, swiftly, tiny shuffling steps, graceful turns…
Fortunately, she'd only consumed a tiny bit of alcohol, so she didn't slip fully into recklessness. The thin line of reason was still firmly tethered to shore, allowing her to simply move step by step, releasing the rare flood of emotion swelling within her.
Watching Kyo's professional-looking footwork, Mana also felt inspired and began following behind her, imitating the steps. Uika quietly drew a clearer line between the Kyo before her and the girl she'd pictured in her mind.
"If the inspiration is set, then next would be working out the detailed lyrics, right?" While Kyo's pace alternated between fast and slow, carefully minding each step, her breathing remained perfectly steady as she addressed the songwriter, Uika.
"Yes." Uika, nowadays, always hesitated before answering Kyo, cautiously wary of whether another subtle jab might be hidden within her seemingly innocent words. It was honestly exhausting.
Earlier, Kyo had seen through Uika's concealed intentions yet afterward never brought it up again, leaving Uika utterly confused about why Kyo had even bothered to tease her so pointedly in the first place.
In truth, during their first meeting, Kyo—who had always prided herself on her perceptiveness—had become slightly irritated that Uika's impeccable façade never slipped. She felt compelled to reclaim her pride somehow.
Well, she'd successfully done that now, proving her observational skills were still sharp. Naturally, she settled down afterward.
Unfortunately, Uika genuinely felt intimidated, terrified that her carefully crafted persona, built up over so long, might collapse with just a casual word from Kyo. She remained quietly anxious, even now.
"But there's one issue," Uika said, shifting her focus. "Originally, with just Mana and me, the two of us were planning to play characters mutually in love. Now that you've joined, Kyo-chan, we'll have to significantly rewrite the scenario."
"Whether it's Uika or Kyo-chan, honestly, I'd feel incredibly lucky having either of you as my lover." Mana spoke with such sincerity that she immediately lost her footing, stumbling into Kyo's back with a small yelp.
"Or perhaps we could just go all-in with a love triangle scenario? I bet the fans would scream with excitement."
Reacting instantly, Kyo turned and caught Mana, steadying her before she fell. Her expression radiated warmth like winter sunlight, but the words she spoke were startlingly bold.
The sincerity in her expression made it impossible for Uika and Mana to tell whether Kyo was serious or joking.
"A love triangle…isn't that maybe going a bit too far?"
Terrifyingly enough, Uika found herself briefly considering if writing lyrics about such a scenario would ultimately be more beneficial or detrimental.