Uneasy Chords

**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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