Truth or dare... Do I really have to choose one of these?
You and Watanabe approach the challenge wheel for a chance to win raffle tickets for the grand prize.
According to the rules, completing either a "truth" or "dare" is going to earn you a chance to win a "Limited Edition Constellia Kitchen Set" through the raffle.
Watanabe stands at the raffle booth with just a few groups in line before him, yet he still appears completely indecisive.
You have a point. I guess I can be a little more chill since this only happens once a year.
Your response seems to have helped Watanabe make up his mind at last. He takes a deep breath and walks onto the stage.
Dare, please.
Ta-da-daaa! Now let's see what challenge awaits!
The colors on the wheel spin rapidly across the display screen before the wheel finally stops, its needle pointing at a cyan-blue number.
Alright, Team 12, congratulations!
Now, what you need to do is... "Sing a song for your partner where everyone can see you!"
Wh...?
Watanabe clearly didn't see this coming. Having been ushered off the stage with a festival voucher in hand, he seems as stiff as a rock.
It's not until the two of you find a cafe around the corner of a street and sit down that he finally comes back to his senses.
I... don't particularly dislike the idea of "singing a song for someone." In fact, I don't even dislike singing at all.
It's just that this thing is such a cliche, and I never thought people still did it today...
That doesn't seem difficult at all.
He points at a cafe—where, on the inside, a simple stage bears a sign that reads, "Performances are suspended because our resident singer is on break. We apologize for any inconvenience."
Well... guess this is where we step in to fill the role, no?
What do you think?
Just as Watanabe thought, the cafe's owner promptly and happily offers you and Watanabe the stage when the two of you approach him.
The modest stage is quickly decorated to shine with dazzling lights, with a gleaming white disco ball slowly spinning on the ceiling. The occasional scattered whistles from the audience suddenly make you nervous.
This might just be a daring challenge, but you know that people are gonna boo you all the same if your performances suck.
Feeling nervous?
Sensing your unease, Watanabe sits down next to you with a borrowed wooden guitar.
Don't worry. We played this piece together during practice. You'll definitely do great.
Nowhere in the rules says we can't do this, though.
Exactly.
He gently pats your shoulder, then hands you a slightly cold metal object.
In the dim stage lighting, you see that the object is an ordinary old tin harmonica. While covered in scratches, it's been meticulously maintained to a clean, polished shine.
Ahem... If you don't want to sing, you can use this harmonica instead.
Hello, the stage is ready. Feel free to step up...
With the cafe owner's call, the audience erupts into thunderous applause.
Let's go.
Watanabe walks onto the stage, glances around, acknowledges the audience with a nod, then sits down with his guitar.
Following Watanabe, you sit down by a music stand and raise the harmonica to your mouth.
The arpeggio rippling through the air when Watanabe's fingertips gently brush across the strings comes to a stop when he presses down on the strings to silence the lingering echoes.
Thank you all for being here. I'm your impromptu performer for tonight.
The microphone's mixing amplifies the faint tremor in Watanabe's voice, but he doesn't sound nervous at all.
In Watanabe's prelude, the chords on his guitar seem to melt into the golden light in the cafe.
This next song is dedicated to the most important person in my life, [player name].
