Chapter One – First Note of Spring

The morning train rattled steadily along the tracks, packed with sleepy students and commuters eager to reach their destinations. Haruto Sato stood near the door, the worn leather strap of his guitar case digging lightly into his shoulder. Outside, the gray of late winter was starting to soften, the bare branches of trees slowly blushing pink with the first timid buds of cherry blossoms.

He glanced down at the case and then out the window, watching the small coastal town slowly wake beneath the pale dawn light. The sea, just beyond the cluster of rooftops and narrow streets, shimmered faintly under a sky still streaked with clouds. Somewhere beyond the station, seagulls cried, their voices carried faintly on the breeze.

A sharp jolt signaled the train’s approach to the next stop, and the sliding doors slid open with a hiss. A familiar figure slipped through, scarf half undone, hair tousled from a hurried morning.

“Aoi,” Haruto said quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Aoi Takahashi grinned as she stepped up beside him, bumping his shoulder playfully. “You overslept again, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t oversleep,” Haruto muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… just woke up late.”

“That’s literally the same thing.” She laughed softly, eyes sparkling with mischief. “If you miss your train, don’t come complaining to me.”

He chuckled, the tension of early morning lifting a little. The train rumbled on, gently rocking the passengers in time with its rhythm.

“Light music club practice after school?” she asked, glancing sideways at him.

“We’ve got to be ready for the cultural festival,” Haruto said, nodding. “It’s the last festival for the third years. I want our set to be perfect.”

Aoi leaned her head against the cool glass window for a moment, watching the scenery blur past. “You’ve been practicing that new song for weeks. Think it’ll go well?”

“Maybe.” Haruto looked out, then back at her. “If we don’t mess up.”

“Don’t jinx it.” She gave him a gentle nudge.

The train slowed, and soon the doors hissed open again at the station nearest their school. They stepped off into the crisp morning air together, the streets still quiet except for the distant sounds of early risers preparing for the day.

The narrow road toward the school was lined with cherry trees, some already dusting the ground with fragile pink petals. A soft breeze stirred the branches, sending more blossoms drifting like delicate snowflakes.

Haruto inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of spring mingling with the salty tang of the nearby sea.

“Feels like it’s finally coming,” Aoi said, her voice soft.

“Spring?” he replied.

She nodded. “New beginnings, endings, all mixed up.”

He smiled. “Just like us.”

They walked side by side, footsteps echoing lightly on the pavement.

The school gates stood open, a welcome sight that carried years of memories. From the first awkward greetings of middle school to the shared laughter and silent moments of high school, this place held pieces of their history.

Inside, students bustled between classes, some still chatting about weekend plans, others focused on last-minute preparations for the upcoming festival.

Haruto made his way to the music room to drop off his guitar case before homeroom, nodding greetings to familiar faces along the way. The light music club’s practice space was a small, cozy room with posters of bands and concerts pinned to the walls, a few well-used amps resting in corners.

As he set his case down, a voice called from the hallway.

“Haruto?”

He turned to see his homeroom teacher, Mr. Fujimoto, standing near the door with a slight smile. Behind him was someone unfamiliar—a girl with long, dark hair and a quiet grace that seemed to slow the air around her.

“This is Yuna Morikawa,” Mr. Fujimoto announced softly. “She’s transferring from Tokyo this semester. Please make her feel welcome.”

Yuna stepped inside, bowing politely. Her eyes briefly met Haruto’s, calm and clear, before looking away as if shy to hold his gaze.

Haruto found himself caught in that moment, a small flutter of curiosity blooming in his chest.

The bell rang, and soon the classroom filled with the usual chatter. Aoi plopped into the seat beside him, whispering, “So, what do you think?”

He shrugged, cheeks warming slightly. “She seems... nice.”

Aoi raised an eyebrow, grinning. “You’re already distracted.”

“Maybe a little.”

Class began, but Haruto’s attention drifted. When the teacher gave an assignment about the cultural festival’s upcoming events, Haruto and Aoi exchanged excited glances. The festival was always a highlight—the chance to share music, food stalls, and memories with everyone.

At lunch, Haruto found the music room quieter than usual. The sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow on the polished wood floor.

There, Yuna sat at the upright piano, fingers lightly tracing the keys as she hummed a tune — a soft, nostalgic melody from an older era.

“You know that song?” Haruto asked, stepping in quietly.

Yuna looked up, a faint smile touching her lips. “It’s from the Showa period. My grandmother used to sing it to me.”

Haruto nodded, memories stirring. “My dad has that on vinyl. It’s… kind of amazing to hear it here.”

They talked for a while, the conversation easy but filled with layers neither wanted to name.

From the doorway, Aoi watched them, her chopsticks paused mid-bite. Something flickered in her eyes — a blend of amusement and something quieter, something Haruto couldn’t quite read.

As the day wore on, the school buzzed with energy. Clubs rehearsed and prepared, friends gathered under blooming trees, and the promise of spring wove itself into every moment.

After class, Haruto met Aoi under the big cherry tree near the gym, where petals floated lazily down like confetti.

“Hey,” Aoi said softly. “You’re going to the festival committee meeting later, right?”

“Yeah,” Haruto replied.

“You should come over after. I’ll make us some tea.”

He smiled. “Sounds good.”

As they parted, Haruto’s thoughts lingered on Yuna — her quiet strength, the unexpected song, the way spring seemed to have shifted in an instant.

He wasn’t sure what this new season would bring, but he felt the first notes of something unfolding — a melody between the warmth of what he knew and the mystery of what might be.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***