October 16 isnโt just another birthday on a calendarโitโs a day that glows for every fan who has ever been moved by Taisei Fukumotoโs light.
Each year it feels less like weโre celebrating an age and more like weโre honoring a journey: the courage it took to begin again, the laughter that filled the gaps where silence used to be, the music that became a bridge between him and us.
On this day, timelines overflow with multi-colored hearts, concert memories, and thankโyous whispered into the sky. Fans unite in countless waysโletters, art, songs, messages that travel across oceansโeach act a small celebration of how far he has come and how far he still dares to go. Itโs a day when timelines glow and hearts quietly synchronize, a collective heartbeat reminding us that this journey belongs to all of us.
Itโs a reminder that what started as admiration has become something deeperโa shared resilience, a promise renewed every year that weโll keep walking beside the sun who taught us how to find color after the rain.
On February 1, 2025, Taisei launched his second nationwide solo tour, Love Typhoonโand though I couldnโt be there in person, this report stands as one of the ways I can show my love and support from afar. With help from fellow fans who generously shared their experiences, and through the release of the Bluโray and DVD this October, I was able to witness fragments of that magicโcatching the shimmer of what it felt like to be in that room, and translating it here so that those of us watching from overseas can still feel a part of his storm of love.
The moment fans stepped into the venue, they were greeted by a stage drenched in shades of pinkโplayful, dazzling, and immediately nostalgic, like stepping into the kind of dream one might have had as a child watching magical heroines save the day. It was a vision meticulously crafted, and from the opening moments, it was clear: nothing was left to chance. Every element, from the staging to the videos to the setlist, reflected Taiseiโs signature attention to detail and his belief that idol entertainment is both an art form and a heartfelt exchange with his audience.
In this tour, Taisei unveiled as many as eight new songsโamong them โOREGORIZUMU,โ โSexy Bombaye,โ โYoshi Yoshi,โ โPyonche no Uta,โ โEVE,โ โSakura Typhoon,โ and โSaiyuushuu Koibito Shou.โ Cute or cool, playful or seriousโno matter the mode, Taisei remained unmistakably Taisei. His performances were not only entertaining but also proof of his versatility and commitment to exploring every shade of idol expression.
Beyond the music and visuals, what resonated most deeply were his words. In Aichi, he spoke with conviction: โThe one thing I will never compromise on is making sure my fans smile. And when it comes to creativity, I believe I wonโt lose to anyone.โ
Later, in Fukuoka, he appeared on stage with pink hair for the very first timeโanxiously admitting he hadnโt been able to sleep the three hours he spent at the salon. And yet, beneath the laughter and novelty, he revealed a quiet determination. With tears in his eyes, he reminded the audience: โWhen I chose to pursue this path as a solo idol, I knew there would be moments of frustration. But none of that matters, because as long as you are here, I can overcome it. My dream is to stand in a dome. If you believe in me, I will never give up.โ
He went further, offering words that left many in tears: โThank you all for being alive.โ
Coming from someone who only a year before had been the source of so much worry, these words were almost unbearable in their poignancy. Fans who had once simply hoped he was eating well and surviving were now being told by him that their very existence was what allowed him to stand on stage. It was an exchange of gratitude that cut to the heart of what idols and fans build together: a relationship where mutual belief carries both through hardship.
This sentiment carried across the tour. In Osaka, he reflected that while future concerts were planned, nothing in life is guaranteedโwhat mattered was that today existed, that they were together now. He confessed that even in the solitary process of planning a show, what fueled him was the thought of his fansโ joy.
โThis place, this reaction, this happinessโitโs why I feel alive as an idol.โ
He admitted he doesnโt always like the word ganbareโto do oneโs bestโbut promised that when those unavoidable moments come, he will cheer his fans on, and asked them to do the same for him. It was a rare glimpse into his philosophy: that this life as an idol is not a performance in isolation, but a promise to walk hand-in-hand with those who support him.
By the finale, when fans surprised him with a choir rendition of โI wanna meet U,โ planned in secret with staff, Taisei emerged smiling through tears. He had grown stronger, steadierโno longer someone defined by frustration, but by resilience. Perhaps from now on, as one fan reflected, the only tears he would show on stage would be tears of joy.
The performances themselves showcased the breadth of his imagination. Draped in a cape, he soared across the stage during โKoi no Joushou Kiryuu.โ He commanded lasers in โPhenomenon,โ exuded playful bravado on a throne in โEgoistic Halloween,โ and sent fans into shouts of laughter and energy with the nonsensical yet addictive โSexy Bombaye.โ He switched seamlessly into the tender โYoshi Yoshi,โ promising encouragement to weary hearts, before diving into the glittering power of โEVEโ and the bittersweet beauty of โSakura Typhoon.โ Every number was carefully designed not just to entertain, but to create memories that fans could carry long after the concert ended.
And yet, what perhaps sets Taisei apart most is not only his artistry, but his empathy. In his tour pamphlet, he wrote candidly about wanting to avoid placing burdens on fans. He acknowledged the reality of school, work, and life, and spoke of wanting to find a balance where supporting him never disrupted those things.
โIt makes me so happy when people travel far to see me, but if that comes at the cost of their health or everyday life, it leaves me conflicted. I want to create an environment where people can support me with joy, without strain.โ These words reflect a rare sensitivity, a clear-eyed awareness that his dream must also protect the everyday lives of those who sustain it.
Even from afar, Iโve been running alongside this chapter of his story since December 30, 2023, when days slipped by without sparkle, following each new chapter with the help of fans who witnessed the magic firsthand and shared their memories so others could feel it too.
Spring arrived, and on April 4, 2024, Taisei reappearedโhis apology handwritten with a care that felt like a vow. By June 20, he stood in front of a camera, thinner, hair turned brown, voice steady but edged with fear, and said the words that set everything back in motion: he would live as an idol again. From that moment, the compass reset. Faith wasnโt abstract anymore; it had a date, a venue, a curtain time.
On August 23, 2024, Yonmoji opened in Tokyo. Nothing about it asked us to forget the past; instead, it asked us to believe in the future. Piano and self-written songsโproof of relentless practice stitched into every bar. The idol he wanted to be and the idol fans longed to see finally overlapped, and the room filled with that rare electricity you only feel when an artistโs selfโportrait matches the audienceโs hope.
Christmas Eve brought the first hall show and, with it, his first letter read aloud on stage: being an idol makes him happy; being seen by us makes him happier; becoming someoneโs reason to keep going would be the greatest happiness of all. He said his dream out loud for the first time: to stand in a dome. That honesty turned the room into a promiseโwe werenโt just buying tickets; we were buying in.
Love Typhoon then arrived in February 2025, a flood of pink and possibility. For those who had spent a year whispering “please be eating, please be okay,” it landed like sunlight after weeks of rain. In Osaka, he widened the frame: today exists; we exist in it together; when effort becomes unavoidable, we lend each other the word “ganbare” like a handrail. This is what he means by a twoโperson threeโlegged race: not dependence, but synchronization.
The months that followed told a different chapter of the same conviction. The โKoi no Joushou Kiryuuโ CD debut release that many had only dared to imagine became realโshopfront displays in Osaka, his voice playing over speakers, charts that read like exclamation points. The victory wasnโt just numbers; it was proof that the sky really does look brighter above the clouds. Especially when you have Taisei, who shines brighter than the sun.
By June 2025, SUPER FAN FIRST pushed further: a Zepp tour with a live band and a velocity that said he refuses to coast. Then, the moment no one would name until it happenedโhe picked up the bass. The room changed temperature in a single note. He didnโt explain; he didnโt need to. The posture, the phrasing, the way his voice sits differently against low endโall of it said: I can carry my history without being carried by it. The house turned orange on instinct, and he wiped sweat from his face the way you hide tears. Resilience isnโt stoicism; itโs feeling everything and playing anyway.
What keeps drawing people back isnโt only the showmanshipโitโs the reciprocity. He asks fans to support him without breaking their lives; he promises to be the shoulder when theirs are tired. He doesnโt pretend the road is smooth; he offers to walk it with us. And that offer is, in itself, artistry.
For readers discovering him from outside Japan, this is the heart of Taisei Fukumotoโs appeal: he builds concerts like living rooms where joy is designed, not improvised; he treats creativity like a craft and fans like collaborators; he dreams about domes, but never at the expense of the Tuesdays that keep us going. If youโve ever needed a reason to look forward to a date on the calendar, his music gives you one. If youโve ever needed to hear that simply being alive matters, his MCs say it out loud.
From here, the weather metaphor writes itself. He brings the sun; we try to hang the rainbow. And somewhere between the two, a typhoon formsโnot to tear things down, but to lift them. Thatโs the kind of storm Love Typhoon was and the future he keeps inviting us to create: not just the moment the dream is realized, but the tenderness of chasing it together, day after day, until the dome lights feel like home.
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