Following the melody, I found myself in a classroom where a solitary figure was strumming a guitar, weaving a soulful ballad as if narrating her own tale of longing.
It was Iwasawa Masami, the lead of the diversionary squad, immersed in her music. Why was she alone, singing here? This song, unlike the rock music performed in the cafeteria, was subdued, radiating peace and a gentle tranquility, yet tinged with an undercurrent of melancholy. Was this the essence of her music?
"What a captivating song," I commented as the music faded, Iwasawa pausing as if savoring the moment just passed. Meanwhile, I entered the classroom, applause echoing my entrance.
"So, it's you," she noted, a trace of relaxation crossing her features upon recognizing a fellow member.
"Is this a new piece? It's incredibly moving," I offered, presenting her with a bottle of mineral water I had purchased from a vending machine moments earlier.
"Thank you," she accepted the water, a soft smile gracing her lips. Whether it was for the compliment on her music or the gesture of kindness was unclear.
"You're Zhang Fan, right? I've heard about your talents, even conversing with the angel," she initiated conversation after a brief pause, her curiosity about the newcomer evident.
"Speaking with her? Perhaps what we're truly missing is communication," I sighed softly, believing that many conflicts could be avoided if only we could sit down and talk.
"Communication? Some issues can't be solved just by talking, and not everyone is willing to engage," Iwasawa pondered, setting aside her guitar to gaze out the window. If only communication could have prevented the constant conflicts in her own family...
"Your eyes suggest you've been through significant hardships," I couldn't help mentioning, though reluctant to reopen old wounds. Iwasawa's gaze alone conveyed deep-seated resentment against life's unfairness.
"It's not too bad, really. My only regret is not being able to perform the music I love," she said, her smile bittersweet.
"Have you found your purpose in life?" I suddenly asked, curious about her perspective.
"My purpose? To sing, I suppose," she mused after a moment of reflection, confirming music as her raison d'être.
"Your voice has the power to heal, to save others, and perhaps even this afterlife world," I remarked, believing in the transformative power of music.
"To save others with my voice?" Iwasawa seemed taken aback, contemplating the impact of her music.
"Are you lost in thought?" I teased, noticing her introspection.
"No, it's nothing," she dismissed, though clearly touched by the idea that her music could have a greater purpose.
"So, have you found the meaning of your life?" I pressed, encouraging her to reflect on her journey.
"To sing. That's my purpose," she concluded, finding clarity in her passion for music.
"Thank you, newcomer. Your words have helped me see my path," Iwasawa glowed with a newfound resolve, ready to embrace her destiny through her music, regardless of where or in what form she existed.