This is a single-movement piano concerto, the title of which is taken from Kakinomoto no Hitomaro's poem in the Manyoshu: "In the heavenly sea, cloud-waves rise, the moon's boat rows and vanishes into the forest of stars." Even while meticulously writing the score, contemplating this grand waka instilled in me a profound sense of pride in being Japanese, as if a rich wellspring of inspiration had infused me. Furthermore, hearing a story about obsidian falling like stardust from the sky in a certain region of Tohoku greatly expanded my imagery. As I continued to compose, I also felt the energy of the young performers, and the music seemed to naturally progress in the direction it desired. The piece features a mysterious and quiet section where stars are born, a call-and-response passage with the piano resembling shooting stars traversing between celestial bodies, and eventually, the stars begin to dance and sing together, before finally plummeting somewhere with a resounding crash. Throughout the entire work, I aimed to create a structure that, while embracing the constructive and classical form of a concerto, also incorporates a Japanese 'flat' (planar) sensibility. The Medical Students Concerto Orchestra, an amateur orchestra, dedicated half a year to tackling this new work, and both conductor Daisuke Naoi and soloist Kaoru Jitsukawa also joined the rehearsals. For a composer, premiering the work with such creative and proactive individuals was an irreplaceable and truly wonderful experience.