"…How did you find this place?" Touma Hasa's voice rang out, pure and high, tinged with anger, delicate as the drip of winter rain.
Hara Kei said nothing, merely gesturing toward the piano in front of her.
"You're lying… I asked the teacher to help me find a soundproof empty room…" Touma Hasa muttered under her breath.
Hara Kei still didn't speak. Instead, he lightly ran a hand along the doorframe he had just passed. Something—probably the piano—had bumped it, leaving a tiny gap in the once-perfect fit. The sound had leaked through that gap and reached his ears.
Touma Hasa's lips trembled, and her face flushed scarlet in an instant. Hara Kei braced himself, expecting her to fly into a fit of embarrassed rage and throw whatever she was holding. Instead, a waft of perfume brushed past him, then vanished. Footsteps hurried down the hallway.
She had fled.
"…What the hell just happened?" Hara Kei muttered, half laughing, lowering his defensive arms. After a brief pause, he approached the piano Touma had tried to tune.
Originally, the piano was perfectly in tune. But after her attempt, it sounded as unpredictable as a girl's mood—'La' leapt up to 'Re,' and the 'D' had settled somewhere near 'Fa.' At first, Hara Kei thought it was just some tone-deaf amateur ruining the piano, hence his initial anger.
But that wasn't the case.
Touma Hasa was unquestionably not tone-deaf. That meant she had a purpose behind detuning an otherwise perfect piano.
Hara Kei picked up the tuning fork and wrench she had left behind. The tools still radiated a faint warmth from her hands. He stared at the ordinary instruments, pondering—what could her purpose be?
…
"You said… 'too many unwanted noises'?"
After school, Yukinoshita Yukino arrived at Hara Kei's classroom door as if it were perfectly natural. Seeing her stand there so straight, unshaken by curious stares and whispers, Hara Kei wisely packed up his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked toward her. Behind him, classmates were left gaping, buzzing with speculation.
Yukino's momentum had clearly engaged; once set in motion, it seemed unstoppable until the matter was resolved.
On the way to the station, she relayed the information she had gathered. Touma Hasa had quit the string club because she was no longer willing to compete in piano competitions. Missing first place a few times hadn't shaken her confidence, but the judges' harsh comments had finally broken her competitive spirit—comments that claimed:
"Too many unwanted noises."
"That's right," Yukino nodded solemnly. "I received this information from Touma's music teacher. He seemed genuinely disappointed by her leaving the club, and even scolded those judges thoroughly. For your mental health, Hara Kei, I've refrained from repeating his words directly."
"Wow… to that extent? That teacher really has some character."
"However, Hara Kei, I'm a little confused by this evaluation," Yukino said, blinking. "You mentioned you know a bit about the piano, right? Could you explain what they mean by 'too many unwanted noises'?"
"Unwanted noises?" Hara Kei echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Do they mean wrong notes? Is it that 'too many notes were played incorrectly'?"
"Simply saying that might be hard to understand," Hara Kei mused, meeting her questioning gaze. After a pause, he seemed to make a decision. "Do you have any plans after this?"
"Nothing except finishing my homework."
"Good. Then come with me. I'll show you."
…
"Tokyo really has places like this too…"
"No. We've passed the city limits, so strictly speaking, this isn't technically Tokyo anymore."
Hara Kei led Yukino to his "secret base." Well, ever since Shizuka Hiratsuka had discovered it, it wasn't just his anymore—like the other small classroom he used for breaks.
Navigating past piles of furniture and various crates, he reached his black piano. Yukino's eyes widened in surprise at the massive instrument.
But instead of sitting down to play, Hara Kei rifled through some nearby equipment and pulled out a long, flat board. Smaller and thinner than the piano, it was easy to carry.
It was an electronic keyboard.
Like much of his secret base's equipment, it was broken—but sufficient for Hara Kei's demonstration.
"Yukino, you asked me before what 'unwanted noises' are, right?" he said, placing the keyboard in front of her. "You thought it meant wrong notes—but that's incorrect. Actually, 'unwanted noises' sound like this."
Hara Kei pressed a series of keys in an improvised march. The broken, unpowered keyboard didn't produce the expected notes.
But that didn't mean it was silent.
With each keystroke, a sound arose—
Clack, creak, thump…
A hollow, unmusical noise, stemming from the keyboard itself.
"This is what we call 'unwanted noise,'" Hara Kei said, lifting his fingers. "Generally, it comes from three sources: the sound of fingers hitting keys, the impact of keys hitting the piano frame at the bottom, and the friction of sunken keys rebounding. These three mixed together muddy the otherwise clear string tone. Pianists work hard to minimize these noises as much as possible."
"So… Touma didn't win because she didn't control the unwanted noises?"
"No, of course not." Hara Kei shook his head.
"Unwanted noises occur whenever you play the piano. Even a musical genius will produce them." He set aside the broken keyboard and began to understand Touma Hasa's earlier behavior, shaking his head in amused disbelief. "So when people said her performance had 'too many unwanted noises,' it was just a completely unreasonable critique—like saying a beautiful ink landscape painting is ruined because of some water spots. The critic either disliked Touma Hasa personally or had a grudge against Touma Yoko. But the real issue is—"
"That Touma Hasa herself seems to have accepted that judgment."
Both of them fell silent, troubled by the situation.
"Yukino, have you ever played the piano?"
"No."
"Perfect."
"Eh?"
"To fix this, there's only one thing you can do next," Hara Kei said, raising a finger. "You have to defeat Touma Hasa on the piano."
"Me? Really?"