I loved music, and I was afraid of music. ~The story of before I became 'Kaeruko'~

I loved music.
But just as much, I was afraid of music.

I wasn't strong enough to say things like "chasing my dreams" in a pretty way.
If anything, I was good at finding reasons to end my dreams.

That version of me is now speaking as "Kaeruko."
I'm going to tell you the story of me and music from before that, back when I didn't even have a name.

To begin with, the name "Kaeruko" isn't because I like frogs.
If anything, I don't even want to touch a frog!!!!! lol

The origin of the name comes from the first characters of my four siblings: eldest son "Ka...", second son "E...", third son "Ru...", and eldest daughter "Ko...".
I wasn't aiming for it, but it just happened to fall in that order lol

This is a story about a girl and music, before she became "Kaeruko."

The piano I hated. The songs on TV I loved

My father worked as a stage director for ballet and built stage sets.
So there was always sound in the air at home. Classical music, or the Western rock my father liked.

I think having "music close by" is probably a happy thing.
But for me, the piano was not happy.

From kindergarten through elementary school, I took piano lessons.
But it wasn't "I want to play," it was "being made to play."
I didn't get any better, it wasn't fun, and just sitting in front of the keyboard made my heart harden.

And yet.
I watched music programs a lot.

The songs on TV were free, sparkling, and were firmly on the side of what I "loved."

From about the third grade of elementary school, I would borrow CDs and record them onto cassette tapes.
I loved the thrill of that "moment of pressing the record button."
It felt like I was making my favorite songs "my own" with my own hands.

That's why I loved singing popular songs.

Guitars, "Yuzu," and "19." But I couldn't step out

We had an electric guitar and a classical guitar at home.
When I became a middle school student, "Yuzu" and "19" were popular.
I would touch the guitars at home, imitate them, and practice.

I loved singing.
But back then, I was always thinking negatively.

"I'm no good anyway."
That phrase was always lodged in the back of my throat, silencing me before I could even speak.

Expressing myself in front of others felt like a world away.
I'd get a compliment at karaoke, feel a little happy, and that was it.
Even though I loved it, I felt like I wasn't allowed to let it out.

The end of high school. The day my voice finally came out.

Around the end of high school, a friend asked me, "Why don't you be a vocalist?"
I performed at a live show. It was just that, but to me, it felt like a major event.

It was incredibly fun.

For the first time, music was no longer "just for me."
My voice was reaching someone else's ears.
Just that made me think, "Maybe I have value, too."

Confidence doesn't grow all at once.
But I felt like, for that day at least, I was able to look forward just a little bit.

As university neared its end, I became more afraid.

I loved singing.
But my lack of confidence remained the same.

To be precise, I think I just didn't want to get hurt.
I felt that if I gave it my all and failed, I wouldn't be able to get back up.
That's why I was always looking for a "reason to quit."

As my senior year of university began, everyone around me got busy with job hunting.
I was singing.
Even though I loved it, I couldn't be proud of it.

So, I took an audition.
"If I fail this, I'll give up."
I think I went there to get "permission to end" my dream.

I didn't tell anyone and went to Tokyo in secret.

...And then, I ended up winning the runner-up prize.

Before feeling happy, I was afraid.
Because I had gone there to give up, but now I couldn't.

I didn't join that agency.
But the confidence remained.
It felt like it had been left behind.

Me, who said "Music is my only path," and my parents, who spoke with cold logic.

During the summer break of my senior year of college, I intended to 'do music without working.'
I argued with my parents many times.

'If you really wanted to do it, you could do music even while working!'

'You might think it sounds cool to say you're going all-in on music, but you just don't want to work, right? You'll end up working a part-time job anyway, won't you?'

That stung.
It stung so much that I couldn't talk back.

I was a naive little girl who knew nothing about society.
I finished my job hunting in one month and became a working adult.

It wasn't so much that I gave up on my dream,
but rather that I 'put it on the shelf for a while.'

My mindset changed

I was a negative thinker, but my values changed drastically during a certain period.
That was my encounter with UVERworld.

<Reference>

I don't think my sensitivity was that of an ordinary person.

But once I started working, my sensitivity returned to normal.
You could say I adapted to society, or
there was also the sadness of 'becoming a boring adult.'

Frustrations piled up, and I became afraid of music

Even after becoming a working adult, I didn't get better at guitar, piano, bass, or drums.
Even though I was trying hard, nothing took shape.
That 'lack of shape' slowly wore me down.

So, I installed music software on my computer and started making songs.
This was the beginning of a true hell.

Music isn't just about being good at singing or playing an instrument.
It required the task of 'making the sounds I created' into 'a complete song.'

And you can't do that unless your ears are trained.

But what happened to me was probably a common, unpleasant experience for musicians.
Even though my singing should have been improving, my ears were getting better so fast that
my own singing sounded worse to me every single day.

I became afraid of recording.
I became afraid of listening to my own voice.

I did vocal training every day.
I was careful about what I ate and drank.
I also did core training and running.

But it didn't yield any results.

A promise at 24. The end of 25.

When I was 24, I decided:
'I'll do my best for one more year, and if it doesn't work out, I'll end it.'

No miracle happened.
At 25, my music career ended.

I got married at 26 and gave birth to my eldest son.

Life moves forward, properly.
It just keeps moving.
Whether you hold onto your dreams or let them go, time flows equally for everyone.

Even so, I loved music.

Because I love music, I put the kanji character for 'string' (gen) into the names of all three of my boys.
But so far, none of them are interested in music... (Why is that!)

By the way, 'string' (gen) has a wonderful, fitting meaning of 'the bond between a husband and wife'.
As for how to read it... I'll keep that a secret since it would reveal my children's names. Haha.

Even though I should have let go of music,
somewhere inside me is still facing toward the sound.

Perhaps, forever.

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Added on May 2, 2026

I have decided to face music once again
and try to fight
as 'Kaeruko'.