On a street corner at night, Kanata gently strummed his guitar beneath the hazy glow of a convenience store light. An open guitar case lay at his feet. The clear tones of his blues dissolved into the crowd, barely brushing the ears of passersby.
“One song that lingers in someone’s heart—”
That wish alone kept him coming back to this spot.
Back when he still chased his dream of going pro, Kanata had a band—a group of friends. Days filled with hope, recordings, auditions, excitement, and setbacks. Then, one night, everything changed. His partner Asahi died suddenly in an accident. Since that day, Kanata shut himself off from all sound except his guitar. He gave up the band, the dream, the future—and just kept playing in the streets.
One spring evening, he sensed a presence and looked up. A high school girl stood frozen, her long black hair swaying in the breeze, eyes lowered as she listened. A single tear traced down her cheek. Kanata didn’t miss it.
She said nothing and left before the song ended.
The next day, and the day after, Kanata returned to the same corner. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she might come back. And on the third night, she did. Kanata stopped playing and spoke.
“You’re the girl from before, right?”
She nodded hesitantly.
“Your playing… it sounded just like my dad. He used to play every night. That blues song… it was the last thing I heard him play.”
Her name was Mio. A high school senior. She had lost her father to illness six months ago. His blues had been the soundtrack of her family’s memories.
Hearing her story stirred something deep in Kanata’s chest. The things he’d lost, the past he had tried to shut out—it all resonated with her words.
“If my song reminded you of your dad… then maybe there’s still a sound in me that can reach someone.”
That night, for the first time in a long while, Kanata picked up a pen. He wrote a new song—one that faced his past, honored his lost friend and Mio’s father, and embraced the girl who had walked into his music, and the man he was now.
He titled it: Last Note Blues.
A song that sounded like an ending—but was truly a beginning.
A few nights later, Kanata returned to his usual spot and began to play. Mio was there, too. Slowly, people began to stop and listen. The air of the street shifted as his music filled the space.
“This is my ‘last note.’ I’m leaving it here—blended with your memory, and my hope.”
As Kanata struck the strings, a gentle breeze swept through the city.
Mio wiped a tear and smiled softly.
Even after the music faded, warmth remained.
