The Transposition Dilemma

The first notes rang out. The song began with a powerful guitar riff—just as it was supposed to. This riff needed to continue through most of the song. The drums kicked in next, keeping a steady rhythm while carrying the song’s energy forward. Yasu’s drumming was genuinely impressive. Hiro followed the guitar riff, adding a slightly melancholic touch. But this melancholic undertone blended seamlessly into the energy of the song, like faint blue lines tracing through the sound. The song was settling into its tempo. Everything was going well so far.

Then came the chorus.

Aiko had a solid start. As always, she knew how to use her voice effectively. But the real challenge was coming up.

The chorus was the song’s most repeated and memorable part.

Although Aiko sang well, the same issue started surfacing again—her voice wasn’t matching the tempo of the music. Even though her vocal runs were strong, the song felt flat compared to the original version.

The riff played again, leading us back into the song.

And once again, the same issue persisted. A casual listener might not notice anything wrong, but for those of us making the music, it was subtly irritating.

The outro section managed to salvage things a bit. At least they ended on a decent note.

We clapped lightly.

"That happened again," Aiko said uneasily.

"Maybe it’s a tempo issue?" Hiro turned to Yasu.

"Not a chance." Yasu set his drumsticks aside and cracked his knuckles.

I turned to Lyra.

"This is what I meant," I said in a flat voice. We couldn’t seem to fix this problem, and I had no idea what to suggest.

"Hmm…" Lyra stood up and walked toward the stage.

"Aiko."

"Y-Yes?"

"What’s the highest and lowest note you can sing?"

"My highest and lowest note? I’m not sure." She paused thoughtfully for a moment, then drew out the words.

"I’d like you to try."

"How should I do that?" Aiko looked at Lyra in confusion.

"Ray, can you play a C major scale on your guitar?"

"Oh, sure."

"Aiko, follow along with your voice, adjusting higher as the pitch increases. Then we’ll do the reverse."

Ray started playing the notes. Aiko matched them vocally. Around the second C, her voice cracked slightly.

"Alright, now the other way."

On the lower range test, she made it down to the second F before pausing. Lyra hesitated for a moment.

"Yasu, can we lower the tempo from 120 BPM to 110?"

"Yeah, I can."

"Okay. Ray, try to emphasize the B minor notes more. Aiko, your voice is beautiful and strong, but for the chorus, try using diaphragmatic breathing instead of throat breathing."

"Diaphragmatic breathing?"

"Yes. Take a quick breath from your diaphragm instead of your throat, and continue from there. If that’s too difficult, try slightly lowering your pitch instead."

"O-Okay."

I wasn’t sure what was happening in front of me. Everyone was staring at Lyra in shock—including me. She had analyzed our music and suggested adjustments in an instant.

Would this really work? And could our team pull it off? I didn’t know. But this was what real musical expertise looked like. It was incredible.

Lyra sat back down beside me.

"I think it’ll work this time," she said with a small smile. Then, narrowing her eyes slightly, she added, "But if Aiko doesn’t fully use her diaphragm, the rhythm might still slip by the second chorus. Keep an eye on that."

In an instant, she had gone from her cool, analytical demeanor back to a warm, friendly presence. How did she switch like that so effortlessly?

"Alright, let’s do this!" Aiko called out enthusiastically.

The drumsticks clashed together in a count-off, and the music began.

They played.

They sang.

And…

The problems were almost completely gone!

The song felt just slightly different from the original, but the musical cohesion had improved significantly. Finally, the song had soul. It had emotion. Aiko’s voice came to life alongside the melody.

The final notes lingered in the air. The sound echoed off the stage walls before fading into silence. No one spoke for a few seconds—almost as if everyone was processing what had just happened.

Then suddenly, Ray and Aiko jumped to their feet in excitement.

"WE DID IT!"

Hiro and Yasu smiled. After months of struggling, they had finally nailed the song. I was beyond happy. They could do this.

"Congratulations," Lyra said, smiling warmly at them.

Then, with the same expression, she turned toward me.

"They’re talented. I think once the problems are ironed out, they could put on a real concert."

There was something about this girl. The confidence, the authority, the way she carried herself—it was all so natural. Compared to her, I felt completely ordinary.

I found myself admiring her.

As a small celebration, I bought everyone a drink. Normally, they should have been the ones treating Lyra and me, but whatever—it was worth it. Their morale was through the roof.

After some chatting, we moved on to other songs. With Lyra’s input and everyone’s efforts, we managed to fix almost all the issues. As they improved, Aiko and the others even started recognizing and fixing problems on their own. Aiko adjusted her vocal tone instinctively at times, solving issues without needing to be told.

By the end of the day, we had solved every problem.

"If you keep practicing what you learned today, you won’t have any more issues," Lyra said, smiling.

"Thanks. We’ll practice a lot, don’t worry!" Aiko grabbed Lyra’s hands, looking at her with admiration.

"By the way, Lyra, do you sing?" Hiro suddenly asked.

 The room fell silent.

I honestly had never thought to ask. Given how knowledgeable she was and the fact that she studied music, she had to sing, right?

"Well, actually, no. I play instruments," Lyra said, lowering her gaze slightly.

"Why don’t you sing?" Aiko asked, her curiosity obvious.

"Um… my voice isn’t good."

"What? No way! Your voice is delicate and beautiful!" Aiko objected loudly.

"No, you know music is much more than just that," Lyra said, her expression dimming slightly. She seemed uncomfortable.

"But—"

"Aiko, that’s enough. Don’t push her," I interrupted.

Lyra’s eyes shifted to me. I felt like she was trying to read my thoughts.

"Y-You're right. Sorry, Lyra," Aiko apologized with a guilty look.

"It's fine." Lyra smiled understandingly and held Aiko’s hand. We had already taken up too much of Lyra’s time. Everyone was exhausted, so it was time to wrap things up.

"Alright, everyone. Let’s call it a day. We’re all tired, and we shouldn’t take up any more of Lyra’s time."

"Yeah, thanks for today, Lyra," Ray agreed with me.

"Thank you for today," the others echoed respectfully.

"You’re welcome. It was a pleasure meeting all of you. I hope you do great at the festival!"

Lyra’s friendly demeanor made me realize once again what a kind person she was. Ray removed his guitar, which was strapped with the band we had bought earlier, and set it aside before speaking again.

"Yuta, why don’t you walk Lyra out? We’ll take care of things here until you get back." There was a strange expression on my best friend’s face. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I knew he wasn’t trying to set us up. After all, Lyra had a boyfriend.

"Yeah, yeah!" Aiko chimed in with a creepy grin, staring at me. I could easily tell what she was thinking, but whatever—it didn’t matter.

"Alright. Lyra, if you don’t mind?" I wouldn’t do it unless she wanted me to. Otherwise, it could be misunderstood.

"Not at all! I’d really appreciate it," she said, putting me at ease.

We walked together to the bus stop outside the school.

"No matter how much I thank you, it wouldn’t be enough for today." I still felt the need to express my gratitude. She had spent hours helping us, despite being a complete stranger.

"Don’t mention it. Besides, it wasn’t just me—you were guiding them a lot too," Lyra said, smiling as she tilted her head slightly toward me.

"Me?" What did I have to do with anything? I mean, normally, sure, but I barely did anything today.

"Yes. They were all motivated because of you. And you analyzed every move I made and gave feedback accordingly."

I was surprised. Did I really have that kind of effect? But thinking about it now would just feel like self-praise, and I wasn’t a fan of that.

"Well, if you say so…"

"Maybe you should’ve studied music. You’re seriously talented." Lyra asked in a joking tone, but honestly, I couldn’t say I wasn’t interested in music.

"I mean… maybe, but I couldn’t choose that path." I lowered my gaze. No matter how interested I was, I hadn’t chosen it—and I never would.

"Why?" Lyra’s smile faded as she looked at me with curious seriousness.

"It doesn’t align with my dreams. Engineering might not be for me, but the dreams I have in connection with it definitely are. That’s why I have to keep going down this path."

I wasn’t looking at Lyra as I spoke. When she didn’t respond, I turned to her. She was staring at me in surprise. Our eyes met. The moment they did, she quickly looked away.

"If that’s what you believe, then… alright."

A brief silence settled between us. The bus appeared in the distance.

"Let’s talk again sometime."

"Sure," I replied flatly.

"In fact, if I’m free and you don’t mind, I’d love to come to your school and watch your performance at the festival."

"What? I mean, I don’t think anyone would mind. But our school is pretty big—if you come to the festival, let me know, or we might not run into each other."

The bus stopped, and its doors opened. Lyra was about to get on.

"Then… if I do come, would you show me around the school? I’m curious about your cultural festival." She turned her head slightly as she looked at me, her smile warm and genuine.

"H-Huh? O-Of course." I was caught off guard.

"Great!" I could hear her smile in her voice. The wind gently played with her hair.

Lyra stepped onto the bus and waved at me through the window. I watched as the bus drove away. Then, I turned around. My ears were burning, and my cheeks tingled.

My heart skipped a beat, stealing my breath for a moment. Lyra stepping onto the bus with a smile, looking at me through the window, her hair gently swaying in the wind…

It all felt like frozen frames in my mind.

What the hell is happening to me?