And so, exactly ten minutes later...
The evaluators entered the studio.
Single file.
It looked like the finale of a runway show, where every model walked down the catwalk one after another.
Except these weren't models.
They were the people deciding the trainees' fate.
And holy shit...
They looked good.
Elegance had apparently decided to manifest itself into human form.
First came Robin.
Then Lorelei.
Then Tuesday, Foca, and Luca.
And finally...
Cat.
Every single one of them looked ridiculously chic.
The kind of chic that made you question whether you were dressed appropriately for the occasion, even if you were wearing designer clothes.
Their smiles were beautiful.
Warm.
Inviting.
And potentially career-ending, depending on what kind of day they were having.
Once the evaluators stood in a line at the front of the studio, the chatter among the trainees gradually died down.
The atmosphere became almost eerie.
So quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Or, in Monarch's case...
A lung.
Cough.
Cough.
Cough.
Poor bastard was still fighting for his life in the corner.
Foca's head slowly turned toward the sound.
Monarch immediately panicked.
He looked around.
Then, without a word...
He slowly shuffled behind Eli.
Eli looked at him.
Monarch looked at Eli.
Eli looked at Foca.
Foca looked at them.
It was like watching a sitcom unfold in real time.
Except Eli was the one being held hostage.
Foca's eye twitched slightly.
Just once.
Eli, unfortunately, was directly in the line of fire.
He started sweating bullets.
Then, mercifully, Foca finally looked away.
The moment he did, Eli leaned toward Monarch and whisper-shouted:
"Dude."
"You owe me."
Monarch gave him a weak thumbs-up from behind his shoulder.
"Alright, everybody!"
Luca stepped forward with a smirk.
"Are you all ready?"
"YES!"
The trainees answered in perfect unison.
"Then let's get this party started!"
And as if they'd been waiting for their cue...
The production crew immediately rolled out director's chairs behind the evaluators.
Everyone took their seats.
And just like that...
It was time.
The production crew called out the first name.
"Lan!"
"Yes!"
Lan immediately stood up.
"You're up first."
The production crew paused.
Then, with the solemnity of someone announcing a gladiator entering the arena:
"May the odds be ever in your favor."
The room erupted in laughter.
The joke had come so completely out of nowhere that even some of the evaluators cracked smiles.
Honestly?
It worked.
The tension in the room loosened just a little.
So, good job, unnamed production crew member.
We shall lovingly call you...
Effie.
You get a bonus.
Lan made his way toward the square stage.
His fellow trainees immediately lifted three fingers in the familiar salute.
Others clapped and cheered him on.
"Go, Lan!"
"You got this!"
"Fighting!"
The support seemed to warm the room.
Even the evaluators smiled at the sight.
Once Lan reached the center of the stage, Foca leaned forward slightly.
"Have you decided which part you'd like to sing?"
Lan swallowed.
"I-I decided to sing the whole song, sir."
Tuesday raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.
"Ooooh."
"So you want to leave the decision in our hands?"
Lan nodded.
"Yes."
"I see..."
Tuesday smiled.
"Well, that also means we get to decide whether you get a part at all."
Lan gulped.
Hard.
You could practically hear the sound echo throughout the studio.
Foca smiled warmly.
"The stage is yours, Lan."
"Take a deep breath."
Lan nodded.
He closed his eyes.
Inhaled deeply.
Then slowly exhaled.
And began.
🎶 LEAVEN up! Up up up up!
LEAVEN up! Up up up up! 🎶
For the first few lines...
He was doing okay.
Not spectacular.
But okay.
His voice was steady enough.
His breathing was manageable.
And then...
It happened.
🎶 LEAVEN UUUUUUuuUUP! 🎶
His voice cracked.
And when I say cracked...
I mean that shit CRACKED.
Not the cute little puberty squeak.
Not the charming voice break that makes everyone laugh and move on.
No.
This sounded like puberty had returned for its final boss battle.
Somewhere between a dying bird, nails dragging across a chalkboard, and a teenage boy discovering his voice had changed mid-sentence.
It was...
Bad.
Very bad.
Lan knew it.
The trainees knew it.
The evaluators definitely knew it.
Several trainees visibly winced.
One even subtly looked away like witnessing the crack had been an invasion of privacy.
Robin did her absolute best to maintain a neutral expression.
Professional.
Composed.
Impenetrable.
But the tiny twitch of her eyebrow betrayed her.
Oh, she heard that shit.
Still...
Credit where credit was due.
Lan kept going.
He didn't stop.
He didn't apologize.
He didn't run off the stage and fake his own death.
He continued singing.
Unfortunately, his nerves had already taken control of the vehicle.
Jesus wasn't taking the wheel.
Anxiety was.
His breathing became increasingly unstable as the song continued.
He began running out of breath midway through certain lines.
Some notes came out flat.
Others came out sharp.
And his body?
Completely rigid.
He stood in the center of the stage like someone had hit the pause button on him.
His lyric sheet was held so high that it covered half his face.
At this point, the only thing visible was his forehead and two increasingly terrified eyes.
Lan wasn't performing anymore.
He was surviving.
And unfortunately...
The stage could tell.
****
And so, with the bar set dangerously low...
The auditions continued.
And surprisingly?
...
Yeah.
It didn't get any higher for the next few people.
A lot of the trainees chose to sing the entire song, taking what seemed like the safest route.
Actually...
Scratch that.
Most of them chose to sing the whole thing.
And honestly?
Who could blame them?
If you could manage the entire song, you had a better chance of letting the evaluators decide where you fit and potentially snagging one of the lead parts.
It sounded like the safest strategy.
But there was one tiny problem.
The song was fucking four minutes long.
Four.
Whole.
Minutes.
By the end of some performances, the trainees looked like they had just crawled out of a war zone.
Some were gasping for air.
Some were hunched over trying to recover their breathing.
And some looked like they were two seconds away from having white foam come out of their mouths.
Figuratively, of course.
For now.
Because most of them had made one critical mistake.
They underestimated the song.
The signal song wasn't just a catchy little anthem designed to get stuck in everyone's heads.
It was technical.
Very technical.
It was specifically arranged to be performed by multiple people, with different sections divided among different vocalists.
There was a reason for that.
The song demanded it.
Trying to sing the entire thing by yourself was basically volunteering to fight a four-minute boss battle with no healing items.
And they hadn't even started dancing yet.
Imagine having to sing all of that...
while dancing.
Then the foam wouldn't be figurative anymore.
Thankfully, some trainees had enough common sense to choose the riskier route.
Instead of singing the entire song, they selected specific sections they knew they could handle and focused everything they had on those parts.
These were the guys with balls of steel.
The kind of balls that needed two hands to carry.
And honestly?
Respect.
Among those brave souls were the Powerpuff Boys.
Seven.
Kayden.
And Benimaru.
"Up next..."
"Benimaru!"
The production crew called his name.
After hearing trainee after trainee perform the entire song, the evaluators were starting to look...
Jaded.
Not bored, exactly.
But definitely tired.
And that was another disadvantage of choosing the whole song that nobody seemed to consider.
It wasn't just about the trainee.
It was psychological.
Imagine listening to the same four-minute song over and over again.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Even the best performance in the world can start to blur when you've heard the same material ten times in a row.
The evaluators were human.
Their attention would inevitably fluctuate.
Their ears would inevitably get tired.
And whether they wanted it to or not...
That could affect how they perceived a performance.
Which was precisely why Benimaru's decision caught their attention.
"I'm assuming you'll be singing the whole song too?" Tuesday asked.
"No, ma'am."
Tuesday's eyebrows shot up.
"Ooooh?"
For the first time in a while, there was some actual life in her eyes.
"Oh?"
"Well, then..."
"Pray tell, which part are you going to sing for us this very fine day, Mister?"
She was noticeably more animated now.
Benimaru smiled.
"I know my own capacity pretty well."
"So, knowing that, I'd like to try the first half of the first verse, please."
Tuesday nodded approvingly.
"Good choice."
And honestly...
It was a good choice.
Especially considering where Benimaru had been at the beginning of the week.
After revealing that his sister, Shuna, had passed away from cancer, Benimaru had been carrying an enormous weight on his shoulders.
But now?
He looked different.
Lighter.
More alive.
And Seven and Kayden had undoubtedly played a huge part in that.
They'd been there for him.
Not trying to magically fix his grief.
Not pretending everything was okay.
Just...
Being there.
Sometimes that's all someone needs.
Benimaru stepped into position.
He took a deep breath.
Then, almost under his breath, he whispered...
"Shuna..."
"Please don't let your brother mess this up."
It was meant to be quiet.
Private.
Something only he was supposed to hear.
Unfortunately for him...
This was a television production.
There were microphones.
Everywhere.
The evaluators heard it.
Several trainees heard it too.
For a brief moment, the evaluators' expressions softened.
Because it wasn't just a nervous trainee asking himself to do well.
It was a big brother, still carrying his sister with him.
Seven immediately cupped his hands around his mouth.
"LET'S GO, BENI!"
Kayden followed right after him.
"BENI! GAMBARE!"
Benimaru turned toward them.
And smiled.
A genuine one.
The kind that reached his eyes.
His nerves began to disappear.
And for a moment...
He wasn't thinking about the competition.
He wasn't thinking about the rankings.
He wasn't thinking about the cameras.
He wasn't thinking about whether he'd make the debut lineup.
He was just Benimaru.
With his friends beside him.
And his sister in his heart.
He took one final breath.
And sang.
****
After Benimaru finished singing, the evaluators all wore expressions that practically screamed:
Finally.
Luca gave him a soft version of his usual smirk.
"Good job, Beni."
"I'm sure you made your sister proud."
Benimaru smiled.
Cat leaned back in her chair.
"After hearing this song more times than I can count..."
She paused.
"I feel like this is the first time I'm actually hearing how the song is supposed to sound."
That was probably the nicest way anyone could've said:
Thank God, someone finally sang it properly.
"Excellent job, Benimaru," Foca said warmly. "Please head back to your seat."
"Thank you!"
"Arigatou gozaimasu!"
Benimaru bowed politely before making his way back.
Tuesday watched him go.
Then she leaned toward the others.
"No."
Everyone looked at her.
"No, arigatou gozaimasu to you, Beni."
"You just woke everybody's ass up."
Benimaru laughed.
"Thank you!"
He bowed once more before returning to his seat.
His fellow trainees cheered for him as he walked back.
But beneath the congratulations...
There was something else.
A little green monster.
Jealousy.
Because yes, they could all be friends.
They could laugh together.
Sing together.
Cry together.
Hold hands and sing Kumbaya around a campfire if they wanted.
But at the end of the day...
This was still a competition.
And after learning from Hyouka, some trainees couldn't help but mutter under their breath:
"...Sana all."
Not with admiration.
With a tiny bit of bitterness.
Because somebody had just raised the bar.
And now everyone else had to clear it.
The auditions continued.
"Next up..."
"Seven!"
Seven stood and walked toward the stage.
"I'm also going to sing the first half of the first verse."
He glanced toward Benimaru and Kayden.
"Me, Beni, and Kayden actually have a little competition going on."
"We're trying to see who can secure the part."
Tuesday's eyes immediately lit up.
"Ooooooh!"
"I love me some heated rivalry."
She winked.
"If you know what I'm saying."
Luca immediately gave her a look.
"No, you nasty."
"They don't know what you're saying."
"And that's a completely different kind of heated rivalry altogether."
Seven grinned.
"Oh, don't worry."
"I definitely know what Miss Tuesday is implying."
He paused.
"And yes..."
"We also have that kind of heated rivalry."
The studio exploded.
Squeals erupted from every corner.
Tuesday nearly jumped out of her chair.
Robin covered her mouth.
Lorelei burst out laughing.
The Kweens were losing their collective minds.
Even Effie and the girlies and gays in the production crew were making noises.
And Cat...
The ever-professional Cat...
Was blushing.
"Oh my God!"
Tuesday slapped both hands against her cheeks.
"Are you telling me the fanfics are real?!"
Seven's grin somehow became even more smug.
"We're aware of them."
A beat.
"And I'll leave it at that."
The room collectively lost its mind.
He had done it.
He had successfully edged everyone without actually giving them anything.
What a bastard.
"Okay!"
Luca quickly intervened.
"Before this turns into something we're going to have to censor..."
He gestured toward the stage.
"Seven."
"Please."
"Take it away."
A lot of people clearly wanted more tea.
Unfortunately...
The clock was ticking.
So the gossip would have to wait.
For now.
Seven stepped into position.
And then...
He sang.
And holy shit.
That heated rivalry?
It actually had some weight behind it.
Seven did not come to play.
When he finished, the evaluators were visibly impressed.
Robin spoke first.
"Seven, you have a very unique tone."
"It's distinctly yours."
"And I really like that."
"Even if there were several people singing at the same time, I think I'd still be able to immediately pick you out."
Lorelei nodded.
"I agree."
"You added a lot of flavor to that section."
"It felt like you."
"Nice job."
Seven smiled and bowed.
"Thank you."
He headed back toward his seat.
Which meant...
It was Kayden's turn.
Foca looked toward him.
"And now..."
"The last of the Powerpuff Boys."
He smiled.
"Will you also be singing the same section?"
Kayden hesitated.
"Uhhh..."
"Actually..."
"No."
Seven's head snapped toward him.
Benimaru's eyes widened.
They both had the exact same expression.
Shocked Pikachu.
"I'd like to sing the second part of the first verse, please."
Seven shot upright.
"TRAITOR!"
Before anyone could stop him, Seven pulled off his shoe and threw it.
WHACK.
The shoe landed squarely against Kayden's back.
"Oof!"
Kayden doubled over as the air was knocked out of him.
Benimaru pointed accusingly.
"You are fucking dead!"
"Guys!"
Kayden raised both hands.
"Chill!"
"Let me explain!"
Tuesday leaned forward, fully invested.
"Yes, please do."
"Because I'm listening."
The Kweens immediately joined in.
"Girl, same!"
They snapped their acrylics through the air like they were applauding a drag queen.
Kayden sighed.
"Okay."
"So..."
"I know my man Seven and Beni can sang."
"Y'know what I'm sayin?"
"They can really sing."
"And compared to those two..."
He pointed toward himself.
"I'm a rapper."
"My vocal game isn't up to par with theirs."
"So yeah, I could've gone for the same section."
"But why?"
He shrugged.
"I'm still a rapper."
"And I still wanna shoot my shot."
"Who knows?"
"Maybe I'm actually better at singing than I think."
"So I chose the most optimal route for me."
He pointed toward the second section.
"Because I ain't fighting a losing battle."
"I ain't got time for that."
There was a brief silence.
Seven slowly nodded.
Benimaru did the same.
"...Okay."
"I see the logic."
Tuesday nodded approvingly.
"Honestly?"
"That's smart."
Foca smiled.
"Very well."
"Take it away, then."
Kayden nodded.
And then...
He took it away.
He absolutely smashed it.
His performance wasn't trying to imitate Seven.
It wasn't trying to out-sing Benimaru.
He leaned into what he was good at.
His rhythm.
His phrasing.
His rapper's instinct for timing.
And somehow...
It worked.
When Kayden finished, the evaluators looked genuinely impressed.
Foca spoke first.
"I have to say..."
"That was a very smart choice."
"You managed to blend your rapping style into your singing."
"And you're actually the first person today to do that."
He smiled proudly.
"Bravo."
Foca wasn't holding back.
Luca nodded.
"You know..."
"I actually agree with Foca."
"Most of the trainees who've sung the entire song have started to sound very similar."
"But you?"
"You were brave enough to bring your own style into it."
"That's what made you stand out."
"Great job."
Kayden bowed.
"Thank you."
He walked back toward his seat.
For approximately three seconds...
Everything was peaceful.
Then...
BODY SLAM.
Seven tackled him.
Benimaru joined immediately.
"YOU TRAITOR!"
"GET HIM!"
"WAIT!"
"GUYS!"
Kayden's protests were drowned out as the other two proceeded to dogpile him.
The Powerpuff Boys had officially returned to their natural habitat.
Violence.
Friendship.
And questionable decision-making.