She scrolled through the tracklist until she found it: Bye-Bye-Bye by Girls². "One last round?" Miki asked, her voice small.

The neon lights of the Tokyo arcade flickered as Hana plugged her headphones into the rhythm game console. She didn’t want to be at the mall; she wanted to be anywhere else. Her best friend, Miki, was moving to Osaka in the morning, and the weight of "goodbye" felt like a lead blanket.

Hana didn't answer with words. She hit 'Start.' The infectious, upbeat J-pop beat filled her ears, a sharp contrast to the sinking feeling in her chest. As the arrows flew up the screen, their hands moved in a synchronized blur. They had practiced this choreography in Hana’s garage for months, mimicking the Girls² members until they knew every beat.

The song was high-energy, full of sparkling synths and defiant joy. It wasn't a sad song about endings; it was a song about moving forward. “Bye-bye-bye!” the chorus rang out.

She hugged Miki tight. The song was still looping in her head—a bright, rhythmic promise that some things never truly fade out.

"I put the MP3 on here for you," Miki said, pressing it into Hana’s palm. "From that site we found, Arewanmu. So you can listen even when you’re not at the arcade."

Hana realized then that the song wasn't about losing someone. It was about the strength found in the journey you took together. They hit the final notes in perfect unison, their scores flashing "Full Combo" across the screen.