Morning.
The classroom smelled faintly of chalk and pencil shavings, the sunlight cutting across the floor in long rectangles. Students chattered in little clusters, the sound washing over me like static.
I was quietly trying to disappear into my desk when a voice, sharp and amused, cut through the noise.
"Yo. Music Boy."
My stomach dropped.
Slowly—too slowly—I turned my head.
There she was again. The goth girl. Rina, if I remembered her name right. Black lipstick today, paired with a choker studded with little silver spikes. She leaned against my desk like she owned it, eyes glinting with mischief.
I sighed. "…What?"
She tapped her black-polished nails against the wood in a rhythm. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Like a drummer counting in.
"So. Yesterday you said you 'like music,'" she said. "That's it? That's your entire personality?"
"I didn't know it was supposed to be an essay," I muttered.
She grinned. "Oh, he talks back. Nice."
I instantly regretted opening my mouth.
"C'mon," she said, tilting her head. "What kind of music? Don't tell me you're one of those people who says 'everything' when asked."
I froze. That was exactly what I was about to say.
"…Rock," I lied.
She perked up. "Really? What kind?"
"…The… normal kind?"
She laughed. Actually laughed. Not a cruel laugh, more like she'd just been handed a comedy routine. A few heads turned our way, curious, but she didn't care in the slightest.
"You're terrible at this," she said, wiping her eyes dramatically. "Seriously. You'd never survive a music nerd interrogation."
"Good thing I don't plan to," I mumbled.
Her smirk softened a little, like she'd found something amusing in my stubbornness.
"Alright, Music Boy," she said, straightening up. "I'll let you off the hook… for now."
And just like that, she strolled back to her seat by the window, plopping down with an effortless grace that somehow still managed to scream I don't care.
I exhaled slowly. My heart was pounding like I'd just run a marathon.
Why me? Out of all the classmates she could've picked on, why me?
---
Lunch break came, and the classroom emptied in a rush. I pulled out the sandwich I'd packed and unwrapped it carefully, trying not to attract attention.
"Move."
A shadow fell across my desk.
I looked up.
Her. Again.
"…There are literally twenty empty desks in this classroom," I said.
"Yeah, but I like the view here." She plopped herself down, resting her chin in her hand.
"…The view?"
She smirked. "Watching you suffer is kinda entertaining."
I nearly choked on my sandwich. "That's… psychotic."
"Thanks." She said it like a compliment.
For a moment, we just sat there. Me, trying to eat in peace. Her, watching me like a cat staring at a goldfish bowl.
Finally, she broke the silence. "So. You really love guitar, right?"
The sandwich froze halfway to my mouth. "…What makes you think that?"
She tapped her nail against my bag, where a tiny wooden guitar keychain dangled from the zipper.
My chest tightened. That keychain was the last gift my mom ever gave me.
"Lucky guess," I muttered, shoving my sandwich back into its wrapper.
Her eyes narrowed, sharp but curious. Then, to my surprise, she didn't push further. Instead, she leaned back, stretching her arms.
"Cool. I like guitarists. They're hot."
I nearly fell out of my chair. "W-what—"
She laughed, loud and unbothered, as I turned crimson. "Relax, Music Boy. I didn't mean you. You'd have to actually, y'know, play in front of people for that."
"…Why are you like this?" I groaned.
"Because someone has to make your life interesting," she said with a wink.
And for the first time since Mom's funeral, I found myself biting back a smile.
---
That night, at home, I sat cross-legged with Mom's guitar resting on my lap. My fingers plucked at the strings quietly, the notes barely filling the silence.
Her voice echoed in my memory. Don't be afraid of people, Haruto. Music's meant to be shared.
But I was afraid. Terrified.
Still, a certain girl's words wouldn't leave me alone. "You'd have to actually play in front of people for that."
I groaned and buried my face against the guitar.
Why was she getting in my head?