[ Aoba can't face the screen, so he lays back down on his bed and leaves it to rest on his chest, facing up as he takes a deep breath. All Karamatsu can see is his ceiling and the light from a table lamp bouncing off it.

He closes his eyes and tries to stifle the performance anxiety that threatens to abort this little mission of his before it's even started. He thinks about Clear, with his white hair and pink eyes and his painful innocence as plain on his face as those two odd moles beneath his mouth. A true weirdo, but if he thinks about it... he kind of surrounds himself with misfits, doesn't he? So maybe the weird one is him.

...Aoba takes a breath and starts singing, tapping two fingers lightly to his collarbone to keep time. He's not practiced, he doesn't know how to project himself, and there are times when his breathing is uneven. He's not at all professionally trained, but his uniquely developed vocal chords carry the tune well. ]

Sway, sway, swaying between the waves
Sparkle, sparkle, sparkling, their voices drift into the distance

The dreaming jellyfish sing their song
and sleep on the gentle shore

Sway, sway, swaying, a ray of light
Sparkle, sparkle, sparkling, their voices drift to you

No matter when, as long as this song echoes out
In many colors, they hang in the clear sky

Sway, sway, swaying between the waves
Sparkle, sparkle, sparkling, their voices drift into the distance

The dreaming jellyfish play their song
Sparkle, sparkle, sparkling, their voices drift to you