**Chapter 1: A Boy Who Pretends to Have No Sound**

Spring arrived quietly in Aozora City, the air filled with drifting petals. Students returned to the familiar rhythm of school life, laughter and greetings bouncing through the corridors of Seiran High.

Takumi Kageyama sat by the window in Class 2-B, watching the blossoms fall outside. He had the kind of presence that blended in too easily—neither popular nor disliked, just another face in the room.

And that was exactly how he preferred it.

Because silence, after all, never betrayed anyone.

“Takumi!”

A hand clapped his shoulder, jolting him out of thought.

Haruki Minase stood there, tall and composed, his uniform slightly messy but his smile as bright as ever. He was the kind of person who made everything seem effortless.

And when he sat at a piano, he wasn’t just Haruki Minase anymore. He was a prodigy—someone who could make even the coldest judges lean forward and listen.

“You spacing out already? It’s only the first week back,” Haruki teased.

Takumi forced a small smile. “Guess I’m just tired.”

“Well, wake up. We’re going to the café later. Miyuki’s coming too.”

As if summoned by her name, Miyuki Hoshino entered the classroom, violin case in hand. Her black hair, tied neatly into a ponytail, swayed as she moved gracefully to her desk.

“Good morning,” she said softly, and the room seemed just a little brighter.

Miyuki wasn’t just admired for her looks. Her violin had won her trophies, invitations, and whispers that she might be Seiran High’s shining star. But what made people love her wasn’t her skill—it was the quiet sincerity behind every note she played.

Takumi’s chest tightened as she smiled at Haruki.

“Did you practice that Chopin piece we talked about?” she asked.

“Of course,” Haruki replied confidently. “But it’ll sound better when you add your violin.”

The two of them shared an easy laugh, the kind Takumi could never join.

*She shines… but never for me.*

Homeroom began, and soon their teacher announced the news that sent a buzz through the class:

“The cultural festival is coming up in four weeks. Start planning what your class will present.”

Voices rose immediately.

“Let’s do a café!”

“No, a play would be fun!”

“Hey, why not a concert? We’ve got Miyuki and Haruki!”

Excitement rippled as eyes turned toward them.

Miyuki flushed, lifting her hands modestly. “I don’t mind. If that’s what everyone wants.”

Haruki leaned back in his chair, grinning. “If Miyuki’s in, I’ll play piano. That gives us a strong start.”

“Yeah! We just need a guitarist and maybe a singer!”

The suggestion sent Takumi’s pulse racing. His hands gripped his desk. But no one looked at him. Why would they? He’d never given anyone a reason to.

Takumi lowered his gaze, scribbling random notes into his notebook. To everyone else, he was just “average Takumi.” No one knew about the guitar hidden in his room. No one knew about *Blue Star.*

And he intended to keep it that way.

When the final bell rang, Haruki stretched, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Miyuki, practice tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she replied. “We’ll need to be ready if we’re performing.”

Their conversation flowed so naturally, so beautifully in sync, that Takumi couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. He slipped out of the room, unnoticed, swallowed by the noise of classmates making weekend plans.

That night, Takumi sat in his dimly lit room, the curtains drawn. On his lap rested the only place where his voice existed: his guitar.

He strummed gently, and a melody filled the air—soft, aching, alive.

On his desk, the screen of his laptop glowed with a music-sharing site. Under the name **Blue Star**, Takumi uploaded songs that traveled farther than he ever could. To strangers online, his music was beautiful, moving, even inspiring.

His phone buzzed.

**Kanae Shirosaki:** *Finished the track? Send me the file.*

Takumi typed back: *It’s rough. I messed up halfway.*

**Kanae:** *That’s fine. People don’t want perfection—they want to feel something. I’ll handle the rest.*

He smirked faintly. Kanae was blunt as always, but never wrong. She was older, already working at a small indie label, and somehow, she’d become his manager. She took care of everything—the uploads, the mixing, even the royalties he barely touched.

He attached the file and hit send.

Almost immediately, another message came:

**Kanae:** *This one’s good, Takumi. The chorus… it lingers. Don’t underestimate yourself.*

Takumi set the guitar down carefully, as though it might shatter if anyone else touched it.

At school, he was just the quiet boy by the window. Haruki didn’t know. Miyuki didn’t know. No one knew.

And that was how it had to be.

He leaned back on his bed, eyes on the ceiling.

“As long as it’s only Kanae-san who knows… I’ll be fine.”

Outside his window, faint and distant, a violin floated on the wind—gentle, almost sorrowful.

Takumi closed his eyes.

He didn’t know it yet, but the walls around his music were already starting to crack.

✨ *End of Chapter 1*

Chapter 2: Strings That Shouldn’t Have Crossed**

The weekend air carried the faint scent of rain as Takumi adjusted the strap of his guitar case. The streetlamps flickered, casting long shadows as he hurried through Aozora’s quiet backstreets.

He hadn’t planned to step out tonight. Normally, he just sent his recordings to Kanae, his manager, who handled the uploads and schedules. But fate had other ideas.

The old guitar string snapped mid-practice, recoiling like a whip. He tried to replace it, but the fretboard had cracked—a wound he couldn’t fix with his own hands.

*Kanae… I can’t call her now,* he thought. *It’s the weekend. She’ll be visiting her mother. I shouldn’t disturb her.*

Kanae had never spoken much about her personal life, but Takumi knew enough. She was the only one who understood the weight of being pulled between dreams and responsibilities. Her mother was hospitalized, and weekends were her sacred visits. Takumi would never disturb her then.

So he carried the guitar case himself and walked toward the small music shop named "Kaze no Oto"(Sound of the Wind) near the station, the quiet streets echoing each step. The bell above the door jingled as he entered, and the familiar scent of varnish and wood greeted him.

“Takumi-kun! Another emergency?” Mr. Kōsuke Hayasaka’s eyes twinkled behind his glasses.

“Yeah… it broke again. I… need it fixed before Monday,” Takumi muttered, placing the guitar on the counter.

Hayasaka chuckled softly. “Better safe than sorry, huh?”

As Hayasaka began work, the shop door jingled open again, letting in a gust of cool evening air.

“Wait… Takumi?” Haruki’s voice broke the quiet, a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

Takumi blinked, startled to be spotted. “Uh… Haruki?”

He could feel his heartbeat quicken at the unexpected sight of both his best friend and Miyuki together, casually standing in a music shop on a weekend. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say, just smiled awkwardly and shrugged.

Haruki grinned, shrugging. “Violin needed a little tuning before our practice tomorrow. You know, keeping it ready for the festival.”

Miyuki nodded, adjusting the strap of her case. “And I wanted to go over some parts for our duet. Didn’t expect to see you here, Takumi.”

Takumi’s chest tightened slightly, seeing them both in the same place—his best friend and the girl he liked, casually planning and laughing together. *Of course they’d be together… why wouldn’t they?*

He managed a small, awkward smile. “I… uh… just came to get my guitar fixed. Broke a string.”

Haruki’s eyes flicked to the guitar case, curiosity piqued. “Wait… you play guitar?”

Miyuki’s eyes widened slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Really? I didn’t know…”

Takumi’s hands tightened around the strap. He hadn’t expected anyone to see it.

“I… I just never thought it mattered,” Takumi mumbled, a little embarrassed. “It’s… just a hobby.”

Hayasaka, standing nearby and adjusting a string on another instrument, laughed softly. “Hobby, huh? You’re selling yourself short, kid.”

Miyuki’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “That’s amazing. We might actually need a guitarist for the cultural festival…”

Haruki grinned, leaning a little closer. “Yeah. How about it, Takumi? Want to join us?”

Takumi’s heart skipped a beat. To play with them—their natural rhythm and energy—was both exciting and intimidating. He hesitated, tugging at the strap of his guitar.

“…I don’t know. Maybe not,” he said quietly, giving them an awkward smile.

Miyuki tilted her head, still smiling gently. “Well, we’ll figure something out. It’s just… nice to know.”

Haruki let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “So you’ve been hiding this all along, huh? You sneaky little musician.”

Takumi couldn’t help but grin a little, despite the nerves. “Haha… I’m not so good.”

He grabbed the repaired guitar from the counter. Hayasaka gave a small chuckle and a nod. “Don’t be shy. You’re too good to stay hidden.”

Takumi stepped out into the night, the cool breeze brushing past him. His fingers itched to play, but for now, he kept his secret close—just a quiet boy with a guitar, and a little surprise he hadn’t expected to share.

end of chapter

**Chapter 3: Uneasy Chords**

Monday morning arrived quietly at Seiran High. The usual chatter and shuffling of students filled the corridors, but Takumi moved through it like a shadow—present, yet unseen.

He couldn’t stop replaying the weekend encounter in his mind. Seeing Haruki and Miyuki together, casual and bright, and then realizing they now knew about his guitar… it was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

At his desk, he scribbled absentmindedly in his notebook, pretending to focus on homework. But every few minutes, his gaze wandered toward Haruki and Miyuki across the classroom, chatting animatedly with a few classmates.

*They’re… so natural together,* he thought, a small pang tightening his chest. *And now they know about the guitar. What if they ask me to play?*

The thought alone made him fidget.

During the morning break, Haruki approached, carrying a small stack of sheet music. “Hey, Takumi,” he said casually, though a teasing glint sparkled in his eyes. “About that guitar… you’re really keeping it a secret from everyone, huh? Sneaky.”

Takumi flushed lightly. “I… I just… didn’t think it mattered.”

“Well,” Haruki said, leaning against the desk with a grin, “it matters now. We might need you for the festival. You know, just in case Miyuki and I can’t carry the whole thing alone.”

Takumi blinked, his heart skipping a beat. “I… I don’t know if I can.”

“You can,” Haruki said simply, his grin softening. “You just haven’t decided to try yet.”

Miyuki, who had been quietly observing from nearby, stepped closer. “I’d really like it if you played, Takumi. It would make our duet… complete.”

Takumi’s chest tightened again. Her words were gentle, sincere… and yet they carried the weight of expectation he wasn’t sure he could meet.

He nodded slowly, offering a small, awkward smile. “I… I’ll think about it.”

The bell rang, pulling them back to class. Takumi’s thoughts lingered on the weekend, on Hayasaka’s teasing, and on the strange warmth he felt seeing both Haruki and Miyuki together. His fingers itched to strum his guitar, to let the music speak what he couldn’t, but he pushed the feeling down for now.

Later that day, he found himself alone in the music room after school. He set his guitar on the stand and plucked a few tentative strings. The melody was soft, uncertain… a reflection of his hesitation.

*I can’t just hide anymore,* he thought. *But can I really face them?*

The answer wasn’t clear. But for the first time, he felt the thrill of possibility—the first chord of something new, something that might connect him to people he cared about, in ways words never could.

And though he didn’t know when or how, Takumi felt a quiet determination stirring within him.

He paused mid-strum, glancing at the door as if half-expecting someone to walk in. The faint echo of his own melody hung in the room, unresolved—like a question he wasn’t yet ready to answer.

*Tomorrow… maybe tomorrow, I’ll play.*

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