In a world where singing is power and idols are warriors, Hanashiro Haruka has finally found her stage. With her beloved comrades Tsumugi and Aino by her side, their first-anniversary live is a triumph—until a desperate, barefoot girl bursts through the crowd begging for help, and three armed pursuers follow.
They call her "vessel of the key." They want her. They're willing to kill for her.
Haruka has never drawn her blades against a living person before. But when the girl's plea echoes in her
Surreal Resonance: Duet of Song and Key - A night when no one sings
The air in the office was heavy, sunken and still.
Cardboard still covered the cracked window. No one had touched it since that night. Shards of glass lay scattered across the floor, never swept up—just pushed into a corner.
Hanashiro Haruka stood in the center of the room, gripping two swords.
Her flame-red twin tails clung to her forehead with sweat. The gold that faded into her tips had lost its luster, gone dull and dim. Her amber eyes stared fixedly at her own reflection in the blades.
(I can't sing.)
She tried to call a melody to mind. A Surreal song. Their own song—one she'd sung hundreds of times.
She opened her mouth.
No sound came.
No—when she tried to force it out, something caught in the back of her throat. The screams of the audience from that night echoed deep in her ears, drowning out the melody.
Pikumi's smile.
Epefa's gentle voice.
All of it had been a lie.
The sensation of Kurele's small hands slipping through her fingers.
(Stop. Don't think about it.)
Haruka regripped her swords. The red cord wrapped around the hilts bit into her palms.
Even if she couldn't sing, she could still swing a blade.
She'd believed that, and practiced her swings over and over.
But.
The Resonance phenomenon wouldn't trigger.
The universal law of this world—that the moment song layered into voice, the output of body and weapon surged. It wouldn't activate.
The swords were just lumps of iron.
Haruka's arms felt heavy as lead.
"...Damn it."
Her murmur dropped into the silent room.
In the corner, Tsukimoto Tsumugi had a thick notebook open.
Her ultramarine short hair was messily disheveled. The tips she always kept so neat now stuck out in every direction. Behind her silver-rimmed glasses, her gray-blue eyes seemed to be tracing the words on the page—but weren't.
The notebook was crammed with combat data on Sabedo.
The trajectory of his blade. The speed of his footwork. The rhythm of his breathing.
Tsumugi had read it over and over.
But her hand stopped.
The same page, open all this time, and her fingers wouldn't move.
Sabedo.
That swordsman.
In his fighting style, Tsumugi saw the shadow of a senior from the dojo where she'd once learned swordsmanship.
(No way.)
She'd dismissed the thought again and again.
But the more she studied the data, the closer it came to conviction.
Sabedo's stance.
It was a stance she'd seen countless times as a child.
"...Inefficient."
Tsumugi closed her notebook.
The sound echoed through the quiet room.
By the window, Kazefuji Aino was curled up small.
Her pale pink long hair spread across the floor. The curls at the ends had gone completely limp. The little flower ornament in her hair tilted weakly to one side.
Her light purple eyes were red and swollen.
The tears must have run dry—only dried tracks remained on her cheeks.
Aino was trying to sing.
She opened her mouth.
"...Nn."
The sound caught in her throat.
Not even the first note of the song would come out.
That night, Aino's singing had truly enveloped the battlefield. It had sapped the enemy's will to fight and amplified her allies' strength.
But the moment Pikumi and Epefa stepped onto the stage, the song had broken off.
From shock.
From fear.
From the blow of being betrayed by people she'd trusted.
The song had stopped.
And Kurele had been taken.
"...I'm sorry."
A hoarse voice slipped from Aino's lips.
An apology, directed at no one.
Haruka set her swords on the floor.
They clattered against the ground.
"Aino, want some water?"
Haruka forced her voice to sound bright.
Aino slowly shook her head.
"...Thank you. But I don't need any."
Aino's voice was barely there.
Haruka crouched down beside her.
"It's okay. I'm here."
Haruka placed a hand on Aino's shoulder.
But that hand was trembling, just slightly.
Aino looked up at Haruka's face.
"...Haruka-chan, are *you* okay?"
Aino's light purple eyes reflected Haruka's hollow gaze.
Haruka smiled.
"Of course I am! I'm totally fine! I've decided I won't give up until we get Kurele back—no matter what!"
Her voice sounded like the usual Haruka.
But her eyes weren't smiling.
Her amber eyes had lost their light, turned a flat, dark color.
"...Kurele."
The name spilled from Haruka's lips, just a whisper.
How many times had it been now?
A name she'd repeated hundreds, thousands of times.
Each time, her voice grew smaller.
More frayed than before.
"Kurele..."
Haruka let go of Aino's shoulder and sank down onto the floor.
She hugged her knees and buried her face.
Her crimson twin tails hung down against the floor.
"...Where are you?"
Her murmur reached no one.
Tsumugi took off her glasses and pressed her fingers to the corners of her eyes.
"...We should rest a little. None of us have slept properly in days."
Tsumugi's voice was as flat and measured as ever.
But in it, just barely, exhaustion seeped through.
"Like I can sleep."
Haruka said it without lifting her head.
"Kurele's been taken to a place like that. You think I can just lie back and sleep?"
"...If you don't sleep, your body won't hold up. If you lose your strength on top of your fighting power, you'll be able to do nothing at all."
Tsumugi's logic echoed through the room.
Haruka couldn't argue back.
She was right.
Everything Tsumugi said was right.
But because it was right, it hurt.
That was when it happened.
A knock sounded at the office door—*tap, tap.*
All three of them tensed at once.
(The enemy again?)
Haruka reached for the swords on the floor.
Tsumugi moved swiftly to stand before the door.
"...Who is it?"
"U-um, it's me, from the agency. Your manager, Yada."
A familiar voice came from the other side of the door.
Yada.
The manager who supported Surreal's activities from the agency side. A small man in his early forties. Usually mild-mannered, he'd quietly supported the three of them from behind the scenes.
Tsumugi opened the door.
Yada stood there with an apologetic look on his face.
The collar of his suit was damp with sweat. He kept shifting the envelope in his hands.
"...Please, come in."
Yada entered the room hesitantly.
Then, seeing the three of them, he faltered.
Haruka's hollow eyes.
Tsumugi's expressionless face.
Aino's swollen eyes.
Yada set the envelope on the table.
"...Everyone, are you all right, physically?"
"We're fine. So—what did you come here for today?"
Tsumugi asked, flatly.
Yada was silent for a while.
Then, as if he'd made up his mind, he spoke.
"...As an agency, we've decided to suspend Surreal's activities for the time being."
The air in the room froze.
Haruka slowly lifted her head.
"...Suspend our activities?"
Haruka's voice was hoarse.
"Yes. Several audience members were injured during the live show. Fortunately, no one's life was in danger, but as long as we can't guarantee the venue's safety, we've judged it difficult to continue activities."
Yada's voice was trembling.
"This is, in effect, a notice of disbandment. At present, we don't see any prospect of resuming."
"Disband..."
Aino's lips trembled.
"We're... going to disband...?"
Tears spilled from Aino's light purple eyes.
Silently, without a sound.
The tears fell to the floor, leaving small stains.
"Wait, please!"
Haruka shot to her feet.
"We haven't done anything wrong! If anything, we were fighting to protect Kurele! So why do we have to disband?!"
Haruka pressed in on Yada.
Yada took a step back.
"I—I understand how you feel. But public opinion is harsh. An idol group was attacked on stage by a group of armed people. Audience members were injured. Do you have any idea how much damage this does to your image...?"
"Image?! Who cares about that! Kurele is still captured somewhere right now!"
Haruka's voice rang through the room.
"And besides, we can fight with our songs. If we sing, Resonance boosts our power. So we just keep going, get stronger, and go save Kurele!"
At Haruka's words, Yada's face twisted with pain.
"...But you can't sing right now, can you?"
Yada's words stabbed into Haruka's chest.
Haruka was struck silent.
"If you can't sing, then neither your activities as idols nor as warriors can stand. This is the agency's final decision."
Yada bowed deeply.
"I'm sorry. I did everything I could. But the decision won't be overturned."
Yada left the office as if fleeing.
The sound of the door closing echoed with strange loudness.
Silence.
No one said anything.
Aino collapsed where she stood.
"...Ugh."
A sob escaped Aino's throat.
"...Ah... ahhh..."
Aino braced her hands on the floor and broke down crying.
Her pale pink hair grew wet with tears.
"It's... my fault... because I couldn't sing..."
Aino's voice was a mess of tears.
"That's not true!"
Haruka grabbed Aino's shoulders.
"It's not your fault! I couldn't sing either! All three of us are the same!"
"But if my song had been stronger..."
"That's not it! Pikumi and Epefa were spies from the start! No matter how much we sang, those two would've taken Kurele eventually!"
Haruka's voice shook.
"Those two got close to us from the beginning just to steal Kurele. It was all an act. The time they spent playing with Kurele, the time we spent laughing together—all of it was a lie..."
Haruka's voice grew smaller.
"...I trusted them. Pikumi. Epefa. Kurele was so attached to them. And those smiles—all of it was fake..."
Tears overflowed from Haruka's eyes.
"...Why couldn't I see it?"
Haruka let go of Aino's shoulders and slammed her fist into the floor.
*Thud.*
A dull sound echoed through the room.
"If I'd noticed sooner, Kurele wouldn't have been taken!"
She slammed her fist down again.
*Thud.*
"If I'd been stronger!"
*Thud.*
"If I could've just sung properly!"
*Thud.*
The skin of her knuckles split, and blood seeped out.
But Haruka didn't stop.
"...Stop."
Tsumugi caught Haruka's wrist.
"Stop, Haruka. Don't hurt your hands."
Tsumugi's voice was quiet.
But her hand was trembling, just slightly.
"...Let go."
Haruka tried to shake off Tsumugi's grip.
"I won't."
Tsumugi held Haruka's wrist firmly.
"...Let go!"
"I won't. I can't just stand by and watch you hurt yourself."
Tsumugi's gray-blue eyes stared straight at Haruka.
Haruka was pinned by that gaze.
"...Then what am I supposed to do?"
Haruka's voice shook.
"We don't know where Kurele is. All we know is that Eshel's underground base is somewhere beneath Naruse City. We can't sing. Our weapons won't power up. And the agency abandoned us."
Haruka shook off Tsumugi's hand and sank to the floor.
"...What am I supposed to do?"
Haruka's tears fell to the floor.
Tsumugi was silent for a while.
Then she spoke.
"...By the data, there's no chance of winning."
Tsumugi's voice was cold.
"Kurele's location is unknown. Eshel's exact base is unknown. The power gap is overwhelming. Our songs won't come back. Our weapons won't power up. We've lost the agency's support. By the data, our chances are zero."
Tsumugi laid out the facts, one by one, flatly.
"...What is that supposed to mean?"
Haruka lifted her head.
"By the data? No chance of winning? So what? Does that mean we give up?"
"I didn't say we give up. I'm just accurately grasping the situation."
"Grasp the situation and then what? Say there's no chance and just stop trying to save Kurele?"
Haruka's voice grew louder.
"I'm not stopping. I'm just saying it's inefficient to charge into a hopeless fight with no plan."
"Inefficient?! Is this really the time for that?!"
Haruka stood up.
"Tsumugi, do you not care what happens to Kurele?! She's out there right now, and we don't know what she's going through—how can you say it's inefficient?!"
"That's not what I'm saying."
For the first time, Tsumugi's voice sharpened, just slightly.
"I want to save Kurele too. But acting on emotion alone won't solve anything. If anything, it'll only make things worse."
"Then what do we do?! Can data tell us w
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