Tokyo: Who would still fall in love after being spoiled?

Chapter 122 Gradually, Inoue glimpsed his own heart
"So...how on earth did you manage to get to this point in trumpet practice? And piano, I can't even begin to pinpoint it. And painting, how did you manage to persevere and study so hard?"

Amano looked completely confused.

"Well..." He gradually understood why Amano suddenly asked these questions and forced himself to recall.

The skills of trumpet and piano are just tools for him. He can get them by just moving his fingers and spending points. There is no effort involved, and there is no valuable reason for their origin.

So...what motivated him to keep painting in the first place...

The sun sets in the west and the sky gradually darkens. From one side of the town, one can hear the shouts of adults calling their children and the occasional empty sounds of electric bikes and bicycles passing by.

On the other side, a mighty wind roared, rippling the treetops and rippling the river water beneath the bridge. Unknown birds also flew by in flocks, riding on the wind.

"Maybe it's because I'm more talented in painting than other things that can be called 'legitimate hobbies'." He broke away from the memories of his past life, searching for the right language and organizing it into a text that could best convey the message.

"Because you are more talented?" Amano was puzzled and stared at him with frowned eyebrows.

"It's pretty much the same as studying, right? The high school entrance exam also involves choosing exam subjects based on which subject you're better at to get higher scores and help you get into a better university." He felt a vague uneasiness inexplicably building up in his heart, and he patiently expanded on the explanation.

"On the other hand, doing well in a subject is more likely to earn recognition. You'll receive praise from the responsible teacher and admiration from the subject teacher. You might even get a reward from your parents when you get home..." he continued. "When people discuss you at school, they sometimes add something like, 'Oh, it's Inoue-san. I heard you're really good at math... You even got first place in the grade on your last exam...'"

"So it's the same with painting." He raised a finger and concluded, "I have a higher talent for painting than most of my peers. When I was studying, I would be praised by my teachers, my classmates would learn from me, and my parents would encourage me to continue learning.

"In short, painting is the option that I have the highest talent for and is most likely to achieve success in the future, so I chose painting."

After he finished speaking, Amano fell into a long silence.

A long time passed until someone rode a bicycle past them, crossing the bridge connecting the suburbs and the town, leaving behind the squeaking sound of bicycle wheels.

"It's worse than I thought, Inoue-san..." Amano said softly, revealing an expression of hopeless compassion that hadn't been seen for a long time.

"Hey, this kind of mentality is normal, right? Out of a hundred people of my age in the world, at least sixty would have the same idea as me, right?" he questioned.

"Have you done any statistics? What was your reference group? Kitakura High School? Or the junior high school you attended?" Amano asked, getting to the heart of the matter. "Furthermore, what you're trying to say is that most of our peers are pressured by their families and schools to make choices that go against their own hearts?"

"But you're different, right? Forced? I don't hear from the experiences you just described that you were ever forced. It was all your own initiative, motivated by the desire to gain fame and gain..."

After saying that, Amano sighed again, talked to himself, and complained.

"You're truly terrible, utterly terrible to the core. You're simply the worst person I've ever met... I really don't understand why you did what you did... It's completely inexplicable."

He just listened to the training honestly and didn't say anything in reply.

Strictly speaking, he and Amano existed in two completely different worlds. Their outlook on life, past experiences, life stages... everything imaginable was different.

"And then? What happens after you become famous?"

"……what?"

"You said you wanted to be famous and that learning painting would help you achieve that. So, what do you plan to do after you become famous?"

"Even becoming famous has taken me all my effort, so whatever happens next is fine." All he could think of was like reaching the last page of a novel - by the time he really became famous, the novel called Inoue would have been finished long ago.

Delving deeper into the spiritual meaning behind it, he never imagined that one day he would be driven to despair by a sixteen or seventeen-year-old girl.

"Just like what happened with you in the playing competition? As long as the task can be completed, everything will be fine? And you can accept whatever happens afterwards?" Amano continued to question him.

For a moment, he didn't dare to look into the girl's eyes, which were as clear as lake water.

As long as he takes one more step forward, it seems that he can see the whole desolate and barren desert at a glance. He will be completely disappointed in him and will never set foot there again.

"Almost... probably."

"Stirring up trouble, attracting attention, and being arrogant, is this how you plan to become famous?"

"As long as the result is good, it doesn't matter what method is used, right?" he said anxiously.

Unease gradually spread in his heart, gradually devouring his patience for gentle interactions in daily life, urging him to vent his emotions, expel the wind that blew into the desert and created a sandstorm from his inner territory, and return the desert to the silence of dead sleep.

"Do you really think that you can get the same result by doing this over and over again as if you were to solve it normally?"

"Why not?" He rolled his Adam's apple, the pain in his throat tingling. "Didn't you come here to find me because you approve of my way of doing things?"

"I don't agree." After hearing what he said, Amano said coldly, "I thought too highly of you, which is why I mistakenly thought you would take the responsibility yourself."

This was the first time he'd seen Amano so angry. It was completely different from his usual teasing. His words were sharp, pointed, and merciless...

He knew what he had to say and what he should say.

If I continued to remain silent, I would end up in the same situation as when I was talking to Takeda on the night bus.

Even if he only made extremely selfish choices, he still needed to get something from Amano. If he lost this period of training, he would sooner or later fall back into the situation before unlocking the system, wasting his time just to make ends meet, and live a meaningless life with a clear end in sight.

"I'm even more selfish than you think, Amano-san." He took a deep breath, "There's no truly selfish person in the world who would be willing to be a villain all his life."

"so?"

"In novels and anime, villains who survive to the end will eventually be whitewashed and become decent characters with their own difficulties and persistence." He looked at Amano, who was standing in front of him with his arms folded, his brows furrowed, and was very angry because of him, and suddenly smiled.

The wind that had been blowing for a long time suddenly stopped, the sun set completely behind the mountain, dusk passed, and the world became quiet again.

"You should understand, Amano-san."

He held the trumpet in his hand, stroking the piston valve that adjusted the pitch, and once again completely concealed his inner thoughts, forming a wall around him with a sandstorm that could swallow everything, and grinned, forcing out a not-so-glorious, despicable smile.

"No one has ever been able to kill me before reaching the end." It is enough for him to be alone in this desert, and no more people should set foot here.

"Is it……"

Amano was stunned for a moment, watching him pick up the trumpet again and play the melody he had practiced so many times. He listened to him use completely different rhythm and technique to play the duet part related to the present, which was completely different and unrecognizable.

He listened to him telling her to take the plane to Tottori, telling her to take the country train that only ran at noon, telling her to walk quietly to his side, and then to go back to see the hotel room and visit his house, and after coming out, she had just gotten into an endless quarrel with him.

In music theory, basic emotional expression has long been quantified, and the playing technique of Lv.5 can be said to be perfect.

It is easy for him to re-arrange a melody with a reference target.

The originally short and dense raindrops turned into Amano's aggressive accusations, and the umbrella held up in the rain turned into the wall of his heart that he erected to cover the desert.

He stuffed all the narrative into the melody and blew it back to the girl.

When the last note fell, he released the mouthpiece and spoke provocatively:

"Do you need to do it again? Noble Miss Amano."

"..." Amano looked into his eyes, her pretty brows slightly relaxed, and she sighed again, "There are even more problems. This is the worst I've ever heard you brag, Inoue-san."

"Is it?"

"But..." She closed her eyelids slightly, then opened them again, showing him a faint and meaningful smile, "No matter what, I have to start helping you correct your mistakes before you become completely hopeless and end up in a real mental hospital."

"It sounds like I'm seriously ill, Doctor Amano." He finally felt relieved when he saw Amano smile again. He also smiled and responded, "Is there any special medicine? The kind that I can take tonight and be cured tomorrow."

"It's a pity. In your case, even if there is still hope, you are already terminally ill." She shook her head and returned to her usual tone of voice when talking to each other, and spoke softly.

Then he suddenly thought of something and smiled, "There is a special medicine that can make you recover quickly in a short time."

"Really?"

"As long as you become my suitor," she raised her head slightly, looking at her calmly, "love me madly, confess your love to me on your trumpet, and paint pictures of me every day to comfort yourself."

"Then?"

"Then I rejected him, leading to an unforgettable tragic experience," Amano continued mercilessly. "From then on, I was able to play trumpet melodies and piano sounds that were filled with personal sorrow and spiritual power."

"It sounds like the drug is quite effective. Has it been double-blind tested?"

"Oh, Inoue-san knows all this?"

"I'm fully acquainted with all the knowledge in the world that doesn't involve major secrets." He put down his trumpet and continued brazenly, "Even if you pick up a copy of 'Ancient Capital' or 'Snow Country' and ask me what sentence in which chapter, paragraph, or sentence says, I can answer it right away without any external aid."

"It's all lies." Amano naturally couldn't believe it.

"Of course, you can also ask Kamen Rider which series, which episode, which character's line number is, and that's just as easy for me."

"These things are meaningless to me, Inoue-san." Amano lowered his voice nonchalantly. "I know you have talents in many areas that ordinary people can hardly imagine, but these talents are worthless to you."

"Why... You alone can't decide how much value my talent holds." He suddenly thought of Takeda, remembering how she didn't like hearing him play the trumpet, but was particularly fond of the songs he sang carelessly...

"As long as you haven't recovered for one day, all your skills will be completely worthless. You must understand this yourself, right?"

"...Maybe." He looked at Amano and once again had no choice but to look away.

Regardless of the skill, the highest level in the points store still displays the label "No Price Yet".

He still couldn't figure out what this line of words meant, but he couldn't help but associate it with Amano's words.

"So—" He picked up the trumpet again, wanting to bring the topic back to contacting the trumpet, when the ringtone of his mobile phone suddenly rang in his pocket.

It was his mother who called to say that dinner was ready, but time was limited and the dishes were not rich. She asked Amano, who looked like the daughter of a wealthy family, whether he could eat it.

"It's almost time to go back for dinner." He hung up the phone and said to Amano who was waiting quietly beside him.

"Still angry? You're clearly the one with the problem, yet you're blaming the person who pointed it out. If you can't even follow this most basic principle of being a human being, I suggest that Inoue-san go to a mental hospital and get proper treatment."

Amano could tell from his bad tone and immediately fought back.

"It's just a simple stir-fry of seasonal vegetables, rice, and miso soup." He didn't argue again and asked, "Are you used to it?"

"As long as you can eat it, I can accept it."

"Is that so... Then I should go catch some crickets and ask Mom to help me fry them." He looked up at the sky.

Until the night fell and the sky was filled with stars, he still couldn't get any proper instructions from Amano on how to play the trumpet.

They just played the same melody over and over again, and a quarrel broke out in the middle of it, and time passed by unknowingly.

"What... wait, crickets? Insects? Fried? Inoue-san actually eats this kind of thing? Horrible... Maybe that's why the illness is getting worse..." Amano suddenly took a half step back in fear again, protecting his chest with his hands, and subconsciously entered a state of self-protection alert.

"You're kidding, I don't like it either."

"Just don't like it?"

"A rich source of high-quality protein—if you just think of it that way, I can probably swallow it without a care in the world, right?"

"How is that possible? Even if insects have hard shells, they still have a lot of soft tissue and body fluids inside, right? Even if they're fried, they'll still burst when you bite into the shell—scary... I suddenly believe that you're a Cybertronian self-introduction, Inoue-san."

(End of this chapter)