Thanks for 200 power stones! Here is a bonus chapter!
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The incessant beeping of my alarm dragged me from a dreamless sleep. 3:45 AM. The numbers glowed harsh and red in the darkness of my apartment.
I rolled out of bed, expecting the familiar burn of overworked muscles—the price of yesterday's brutal five-hour session—but found nothing. No soreness. No stiffness. My body felt... fine. Better than fine.
Interesting.
In my previous life, a workout that intense would have left me crippled the next day. This seventeen-year-old body recovered differently. Faster. I silently thanked 'management' that blessed this vessel with superior recovery.
The shower water hit hot against my shoulders. Steam filled the small bathroom as I methodically worked through a mental checklist for the day ahead. Five AM warm-up meant I needed to leave soon, but Ryuu never specified where. The studio would be closed at this hour, and so would SYNC.
After drying off, I pulled on black sweatpants, white shirt, a black hoodie, and black shoes—practical, anonymous attire for an early morning in Tokyo.
I grabbed my phone and called Seiji.
He answered on the fourth ring. "Mmm... hello?"
"It's Toshiro. Where are we meeting at 5?"
A rustling sound came through the speaker, followed by a thud. "Crap! What time is it?"
"Almost four-thirty."
"Oh man, I overslept! We're meeting at Yoyogi Park, west entrance. The one near the—"
"I'll find it," I said, grabbing a water bottle from my fridge. "See you there."
Twenty minutes later, I stood at the west entrance of Yoyogi Park. The city slept around me, the normal Tokyo chaos reduced to a distant hum of early delivery trucks and the occasional taxi. The park itself was a different world—dark paths cutting through shadowed trees, the air cool and damp with morning dew.
Ryota arrived first, materializing from the darkness like some primal creature. Sweatbands circled his wrists and forehead, his long black hair tied back in a tight ponytail.
"New center actually showed up," he said, flashing white teeth in something between a smile and a challenge. "Ryota thought you might sleep in."
"Not likely."
He circled me once, eyes narrowed. "Not even sore? After yesterday?"
I shrugged. "Good genes."
"Hmph. Genes won't save you today. Cardio day is worst day."
Ryuu arrived next, every inch of him meticulously prepared. Not a hair out of place, training clothes perfectly coordinated, a small bag containing what looked like energy supplements.
"You found the location. Good," he said, checking his watch. "We have exactly two hours and fifteen minutes for conditioning before breakfast."
Daisuke appeared silently, nodding once in greeting. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, suggesting he hadn't slept much.
Seiji sprinted up last, pink hair wild and untamed, clearly having rushed. "Sorry! Sorry! I'm here!"
"Three minutes late," Ryuu noted.
"But I brought extra water for everyone!" Seiji held up a bag of bottled water, grinning hopefully.
Ryuu sighed. "Let's begin."
What followed was pure, methodical torture. Two hours of interval training—sprinting, jogging, sprinting again. Then stretching routines that pushed the limits of flexibility. Core exercises. Balance work. All performed in near silence, interrupted only by Ryuu's precise instructions and Ryota's occasional grunts of effort.
By sunrise, sweat soaked through my clothes despite the cool morning air. This time, I felt the burn.
"Time," Ryuu announced at 7:45, checking his watch. "Stretching and cool down."
We formed a loose circle, working through a series of stretches. The park had come alive around us—early morning joggers, elderly people practicing tai chi, office workers cutting through on their way to the train station.
"Food," Ryota declared once we finished. "Ryota needs protein."
"We'll order delivery to the office," Ryuu said, already on his phone. "Egg white omelets, brown rice, grilled chicken."
"Really?" Seiji groaned, flopping onto the grass. "Can't we get something different? Like pancakes?"
Ryuu's fingers paused over his screen. "Refined sugar and simple carbs before a full day of rehearsal? Use your brain."
"Protein is good," Ryota agreed, drinking deeply from his water bottle. "Makes Ryota strong."
"What about rice porridge with egg and vegetables?" I suggested. "Balanced protein and complex carbs, easy on the stomach."
Ryuu considered this. "Acceptable."
Forty-five minutes later, we sat around the conference table at Strawberry Productions, containers of steaming porridge open before us. The office remained mostly empty at this hour—just a sleepy receptionist and the distant sound of a vacuum cleaner somewhere down the hall.
Ryuu cleared his throat and placed a tablet in the center of the table. "Today's schedule. We need to finalize our set list for the Yokohama Arena opening. Four songs, twenty minutes total."
"Refraction and Phenomenon for sure," Seiji said around a mouthful of food. "They're our biggest."
"Agreed," Daisuke nodded. "The question is which of our older catalog to include. Five Facets would showcase our individual strengths..."
"Transparent has emotional resonance," Ryuu added. "Particularly with the narrative of moving forward after..." He adjusted his glasses. "After changes."
I set down my chopsticks. "What if we did two old, two new?"
Four pairs of eyes turned toward me.
"Elaborate," Ryuu said, his tone neutral but his posture stiffening slightly.
"Two songs from your established catalog—maybe Transparent and Phenomenon. Then two new tracks that showcase where PRISM is headed next. Our evolution."
Daisuke frowned. "New songs? The showcase is in six weeks."
"Six weeks is—"
"Nearly impossible," Ryuu cut me off. "Writing lyrics, composing music, recording, mixing, choreographing, rehearsing—all while maintaining our regular schedule and catching you up on our existing material."
"Not to mention getting approval from Saitou-san and the production team," Daisuke added quietly. "New music requires significant investment."
I leaned forward. "But think about the impact. This is our first major appearance since—" I paused, carefully navigating around the Tadashi-shaped hole in the conversation. "Since the group's reformation. It's a statement about who PRISM is now."
"Statement won't matter if performance is sloppy," Ryota said, surprisingly pragmatic. "Better perfect old song than messy new song."
"He's right," Seiji admitted. "Remember how long it took us to get Phenomenon stage-ready? And that was with all of us already knowing the older choreography."
They had valid points. The logistics were daunting. But I could see it so clearly—the impact we could make with the right songs, the right performance.
"What if..." I hesitated, then committed. "What if I already had concepts for two songs? Complete with choreography ideas."
Ryuu's eyebrows rose. "You've been composing?"
"Not exactly." How to explain this without revealing too much? "I've had ideas for a while. Two songs specifically. One high-energy track with aggressive choreography—something that would showcase Ryota's power and Seiji's rap skills. Another with more emotional depth, perfect for Daisuke's vocals and your technical precision."
"You've thought this through," Daisuke observed.
"I have."
"Titles?" Ryuu asked, still skeptical but now curious.
"'Run' and 'Drunk Dazed.'"
"Run?" Ryota perked up. "Sounds exciting."
"It is," I confirmed. "Heavy beat, intense choreography, attitude-driven. 'Drunk-Dazed' is different—more poppy, like a really good time."
"And you claim to have choreography concepts for both?" Ryuu asked.
"Yes."
"Show us."
I stood, pushing my chair back. "Here?"
"Preliminary concept only," Ryuu clarified. "Just enough to evaluate potential."
I moved to an open space near the wall, took a breath, and began mapping out the key movements from "Run." Not the full choreography—just enough to convey the style and energy. Sharp arm movements, aggressive footwork, the signature power moves that had made the original so iconic.
When I finished, the room fell silent.
"Again," Ryota demanded, eyes wide. "That last sequence."
I repeated the final eight-count combination.
"Ryota could do that," he declared, already on his feet trying to mimic the movements. "But bigger. Stronger."
"That's exactly the point," I said. "The choreography should be adaptable to each member's strengths."
Seiji jumped up. "The rap sections would go here and here?" He gestured to specific points in an imaginary timeline.
"Yes. With the group formations supporting the verses."
Daisuke watched thoughtfully. "And the other song? 'Drunk Dazed'?"
I demonstrated a brief sequence from "Run"—more flowing and free.
Ryuu remained seated, fingers steepled. "The concepts have potential," he admitted. "But there's a vast difference between movement concepts and completed songs. You haven't addressed the music production aspect."
And there was the problem. In my previous life, I'd been a dancer and performer, not a producer or composer. I could hear the songs perfectly in my head, could see every movement, but translating that into actual music...
"That's where I hit a wall," I admitted. "I know how they should sound, but creating that sound is beyond my abilities."
Daisuke's eyes lit up. "You need a composer and producer to realize your vision."
"Exactly."
"I could attempt the composition," Daisuke offered carefully. "If you can articulate what you're hearing clearly enough."
"And Saitou-san has connections with producers," Seiji added excitedly. "If we have strong demos, he might invest in proper production!"
"We're getting ahead of ourselves," Ryuu cautioned. "This is still highly impractical given our timeline."
"But not impossible," Daisuke countered. "If the concepts are strong enough to justify the effort."
Ryuu adjusted his glasses. "I propose a compromise. We continue preparing our established set list while simultaneously developing one—just one—of these concepts as a potential addition. If it reaches sufficient quality, we consider including it. If not, we proceed with our original plan."
"One song?" I asked. "Which one?"
"That's for you to decide," Ryuu replied. "Choose the stronger concept."
I weighed the options. "Drunk Dazed" would make the bigger immediate impact, but "Run" might fit the existing style better and was simpler in terms of composition.
"Run," I decided.
Ryota punched the air. "Yes! Power song!"
"This means additional work for everyone," Ryuu warned. "Particularly you, Daisuke, and you, Toshiro."
Daisuke nodded solemnly. "I understand."
"I'm all in," I assured him.
Ryuu stood, gathering his materials. "Then it's settled. We'll present the concept to Saitou-san this afternoon. If he approves, we move forward with development alongside our regular preparation." He checked his watch. "We have studio time booked at SYNC from ten to four. Let's not waste it."
As we gathered our bags to head to the studio, I caught Daisuke watching me, his dark eyes thoughtful.
"Something on your mind?" I asked.
"Many things," he replied with a small smile. "But mostly I'm wondering if this will be the thing to push us to the next level."
"Let's hope Saitou-san agrees," I said.
"He will," Daisuke replied with quiet certainty. "He didn't bring you to PRISM to maintain the status quo. He brought you to transform it."
I shouldered my bag, considering his words. He wasn't wrong. Transformation was exactly what I intended—though perhaps in ways none of them could yet imagine.