People in Tokyo, the world is clear

"What I hope is that the art we create can make people feel the reality of being alive. This may be a really difficult road."

Because art is a tool for people to escape from the torture of reality. It is a kind of virtuality.

Most people enjoy what they consider effective art, discussing sensual pleasures and the desire for food. As the saying goes, "drink while you can." Life is already difficult, so why bother experiencing it again in a virtual world?

But for most ordinary people, life's predicaments are always there and cannot be avoided, unless one dies.

To survive, endurance and resistance are the only ways.

And this requires hope.

Most people seek hope in lighthearted art. They crave the exhilarating feeling of having all their problems resolved. They don't want to relive the weight of pain in a fantasy world. This is human nature, and shouldn't be criticized or even ridiculed.

"However, some people may need art that carries more weight. They hope to witness through art the shadows of those who have also endured the ups and downs of life.

"Then, witness those regrets, witness those tears, and even more, witness the relief after the struggle. Or, perhaps, a miracle? For them, this will give them more strength. It will make them believe that their endurance has value and a future."

At this point, the young man spread his hands:

"Of course, at the moment, compared to the former, the latter seems more like a lonely road of no return. Given a choice, in this romantic and uplifting era, who wouldn't want to engage in that kind of relaxed and universal art? If you really want to take this second path—"

"You will be ignored, receive negative reviews, and even be insulted. And creators like us have no way to resist these. The only way is to endure it, just like living."

To repeat, this is something Ben experienced in real life.

Why torture yourself like this?

Miss Qingshan lowered her head while listening, and slightly tightened her left hand on the neck of the guitar:

"Because I don't have the ability to create the kind of popular art mentioned above."

Everyone has their strengths. How could a girl from the countryside who could only sing folk songs sing about the colorful and distinct likes and dislikes of city life with a lazy voice like a beautiful girl on stage?

She tried. Then she realized that she had no choice in this matter. Just like she couldn't choose her birth, she couldn't choose the difficulty of living.

"But there are always things that give us choices."

Lin Sen, who was sitting cross-legged opposite the girl, reached out and pressed the guitar in the girl's hand.

"It's like being on the shore. In front of us is a yellow sea, not the ideal blue. We can be deeply disappointed, turn away, and in this limited life, look for the next, perhaps better, shore. Or, we can plunge in without hesitation."

“Swim until the water turns blue.”

Waiting for the summer miracle that may never come back.

As he spoke softly, Lin Sen controlled his tone, letting his voice slowly blend into the conversation. His emotions, consumed by the desire to get the girl, rose and fell along with it. Until, with a flickering gaze, she looked at him thoughtfully.

She was already immersed in thoughts about creation, and gradually began to resonate with him.

This is good.

So, Lin Sen said to the girl again:

"Now let's talk about the story and music we're going to make."

To create a good soundtrack, you must first immerse yourself in the emotions of the story.

Now, having achieved this goal, communication has become clear.

Based on the unfinished manuscript, Lin Sen briefly told his story.

It is about the experiences of three high school students who are pen pals.

Each of these three people has their own troubles. The first is dying, suffering from a terminal illness and unable to live long, and he is unwilling to accept the consequences. The second is seeking death, suffering from school bullying and the unbearable pain of being a lowly person. The third is heartbroken, harboring a dream of art but being tightly controlled by his parents, like a walking corpse.

The three of them became connected by the discussion of death in the letter and agreed to meet in the summer to chase a legend about death together - a dead ghost.

The original intention was probably just the curiosity of young people. But unexpectedly, after the fireworks ceremony was completed as planned, the rumored ghost actually appeared!

The ghost was a beautiful and innocent girl. She wasn't as scary as a ghost, retaining much of her childish nature. She wasn't a suicide, as rumored, but rather a victim of someone else's murder.

Thus all the encounters, interactions, troubles, arguments and liberations began from this - finally, one summer a year later, when the three people, each having gained something, met again by chance, they repeated this ritual, but the ghost that had long been liberated did not reappear.

The man, nearing his death, took advantage of his final moments to ask his two companions whether they would choose to continue living. The answer they received was that, although it would be hard, they decided to persevere and wait for change.

Thus, those who were destined to die half a year ago were relieved and left their last blessings before saying goodbye.

If you break it down carefully, it's just a simple story.

But the advantage of this simple and effective script is that once it is made into an animated short film, it can serve as a good mold to carry more things.

( 1000 xun )81490彡⑺⑼汃

For example, the director’s understanding and attempts at storyboarding.

For example, the original artist's expression of characters, environments, scenery and props.

For example, Lin Sen and Qingshan Xiazhi take the connotation of this story as the main theme and give it music.

This is the key.

"In fact, I already have an idea for the theme song for my short film script. I'll show the template to Qingshan, and the rest is up to you to polish."

"As you can see, this story has four core characters. I hope that Aoyama can independently compose a theme-based song for them without my help."

"As for the other soundtracks, we'll work together to piece them together. There are some that I think are more suitable for piano or violin, and I'll bring them up for discussion with you. If it turns out that the guitar's expression is insufficient, we'll just save the sheet music and put it aside for now."

"Finally, there is a goal. The theme of the creation must be close to the theme of the script...summer, ghosts, death, and life."

Lin Sen spoke bit by bit, and the girl with a ponytail and a guitar listened attentively.

Then, the girl lowered her head and began to pluck the strings, closed her eyes, and listened attentively to the young man beside her slowly humming a tune that he had gotten from somewhere.

He casually plucked the overtones to join in the music, then put the guitar down and laid on the floor, searching for a blank sheet of paper around him, to write down the tune on the guitar's six-line staff.

Sometimes I would sit in silence, then inspiration would strike, and I would figure out how to string notes together. I would enthusiastically try out the tune on my guitar. If it wasn't quite ideal, I would frown and pinch my chin in deep thought.

After nodding unconsciously, he confidently found the manuscript paper again and used his guitar as a table to briefly write down the final result.

While she was working on her own, the young man beside her quietly stood up, picked up the handset of an old phone on the small table next to her, and dialed a number:

"Kurosawa... well, I'm in Aoyama helping her write songs. I won't be home tonight. If Ito asks, please let her know so she doesn't have to worry. Also, the spare key is under the blanket. Please feed it some orange juice. Just cat food will do, don't give it those cheap snacks of yours... well."

I don’t know when it became a routine to report safety on nights when I’m not going home.

When I was reborn, I was alone and had no life left. But now, it seems that people are starting to care about me.

Is it a good change?

Lin Sen couldn't think any further because a hand grabbed the corner of his clothes and quickly pulled him back to sit on the floor.

A girl's voice with a hint of resentment rang in my ears:

"Xiao Lin promised to stay with me tonight. Don't be distracted!"

"Just a phone call."

"Still in a daze after the phone call!"

"I was distracted for a moment."

"so!"

For some reason, the girl pouted.

Then, suddenly lowering his voice:

"It's about to begin. It's so nice to listen to. This is a song I wrote for Xiaolin."

"Ah I?"

"That's the dying man in your script. In your writing, isn't his last name also Xiaolin?"

"...It seems so. My buddy made a mistake."

The scene was a bit embarrassing.

The girl under the light laughed again.

He smiled with the corners of his mouth raised, came over and blinked mischievously.

The voice is still warm and soft:

"If Xiaolin wants to think that this song was written for you, that's fine."

"Whoa. Stop it."

After a while of chaos, the girl finally sat down, straightened the guitar in her hand, and slowly plucked the strings.

Lin Sen was actually a little unsure. The original animation he used as a reference, "Another World," focused heavily on creating a sense of splendor and opulence, both in music and visuals. Hence, the strong colors and piano and violin-heavy soundtrack, much like the film's depiction of the "fireworks" that served as the film's central theme.

On the other hand, a piece played on a guitar, a common instrument, might produce a different effect. It might even be inconsistent with the theme of the script.

The effect is very chaotic - if that's the case, it would be bad.

So, when Miss Qingshan relaxed and slowly plucked the piano, Lin Sen tensed up instead.

Hold your breath and listen to the slow melody with a hint of sadness.

Also, the girl has a very unique, warm voice that can wrap around the heart:

"Since I couldn't drink, I celebrated my birthday by throwing stones on the riverbank."

"To the west of the city, the rain has stopped. The blooming hydrangeas are slowly withering..."

"If next summer, insects chirp..."

"If next summer, the water splashes..."

"If next summer, the clouds roll in..."

"If I can't see you next summer..."

"If next summer has nothing to do with me..."

The girl did not have a high level of literary literacy. She always joked that she was just a fool who could not get into college.

But at this moment, the lyrics she composed were unexpectedly contagious.

The words and sentences are really simple. So simple that anyone can imagine a picture by following the notes and words.

In the days before the end of spring and the beginning of summer, in the western suburbs of the city, in a simple and small old house.

After the semester exams, the young people got up early on the first day of the holiday, and in the slightly cool but gradually warming weather, they put the letter they wrote last night into the mailbox.

Then, I found a sleeping beach, sat down from a distance away from the yawning fisherman, hugged my legs, and picked up stones to float on the water.

With confused and decadent eyes, he glanced at the wild flowers slowly withering around him.

In my mind, I was counting something bit by bit. It seemed like the number of days until some deadline...

"..."

For a moment, Lin Sen straightened up and looked at the girl who was gently plucking her fingers and humming the last sentence along with the strings.

She was a little dazed and had not yet recovered from the performance.

Slowly, his eyes regained focus and he turned his head to look over here.

Seeing Lin Sen's calm and somewhat solemn expression, he suddenly became a little nervous.

"It seems a bit too simple and quiet. The song is only two minutes long. Would Xiaolin think it's... inappropriate? After all, the story you told seems to emphasize fireworks, emotions, and colors..."

For a moment, Miss Qingshan felt a little uneasy.

It seems like it's always like this. When I play a piece, I try my best, but I always get expressions like this.

Folk music doesn't fit the rhythm of the drunken, dreamy city life. Old-fashioned tunes and simple melodies have been completely surpassed by advanced arrangements.

Now it seems that it is not even possible to adapt to the script that discusses such "profound" topics?

Perhaps it was because there were too many such scenes in her memories, so much so that Miss Qingshan was once again enveloped by the pain of failure that had never healed, and her entire body began to tremble.

Although, I have tried my best. But, as expected, it still doesn't work...

"Do not."

?

When the thought in her mind was suddenly negated by the coincidental answer, Miss Aoyama widened her eyes and felt a hand hooked on her shoulder.

"On the contrary, I have to say, it's amazing, Qingshan."

"...X-Xiao Lin!"

The girl blushed at the arm-in-arm contact that was common only between men.

But when I quietly noticed the excited expressions of the people around me, I felt happy for some reason.