Satoru beckoned Yasushi over and settled the guitar on his lap. "Watch carefully. This is how a guitar is supposed to sound."
His fingers danced across the strings with effortless grace, each note ringing out crisp and pure.
Damn! Yasushi thought, completely blown away. Bro is insane! That sad song he played last time could melt any girl's heart; hell, it almost melted mine!
But this wasn't the lonely, otherworldly piece from before. Yasushi knew tons of songs, yet Satoru always pulled out something completely new, something that hit deeper than anything he'd ever heard. Just how much talent was this guy hiding?
Next time I learn that sad one's tabs, girls are gonna be putty in my hands!
A girl's heart is like poetry. Akane usually only listened to shallow, catchy pop songs (stuff to vibe to or share with friends), never anything with real emotional weight. She'd assumed "playing guitar" meant simple pop chords, so she had her polite praise locked and loaded. But now her mouth hung open, eyes wide, utterly speechless as the melody wrapped around her.
Was this… an original?
"Long winter~♪♪ Always cold in my black coat~♪♪ Wrapping myself tight~♪♪ Wandering the streets~~♪♪"
Satoru sang in pure Japanese, his voice low and almost monotone, yet carrying a faint, chilling undercurrent of sin that pierced straight through the chest.
Both Akane and Yasushi felt the raw emotion pouring out of him.
Akane's light-blue eyes shimmered, reflecting the clear sky above, as if the music itself had lit her up from the inside.
In the sunlight, the boy with the humming guitar looked almost divine.
Then—
The rooftop door slammed open, shattering the spell in an instant.
Satoru's fingers froze mid-chord.
"Tch."
A sharp, irritated click of the tongue cut through the air.
Satoru glanced sideways.
Kurashiki Rena.
"Hey, hey, they're leaving!" One of the gyaru girls nudged her friend, snapping her out of her trance. "If we don't chase now—"
"I'll be right there!" The bolder one was already sprinting toward the door.
"STOP!!" Rena's command cracked like a whip. The girl skidded to a halt.
"…Eh? Whyyyy~" the gyaru whined softly, too scared to show real attitude.
"You want his name?" Rena's stare was ice-cold. "Kobayashi Satoru, Class 2-F. Extremely close with Nanao Akane, Miyajima Sakura, and Shigemoto Suzuka. Think you can compete with them? Be my guest."
The gyaru might have shrugged off Akane or Suzuka, but Miyajima Sakura? That name alone made them flinch. The untouchable third-year beauty, zero scandals, practically royalty. And… she was into guys? Wait—no one had ever heard that before.
Rena still had nightmares about Sakura's casual bombshell that day: "I'm licking Kobayashi-kun's popsicle." Pure terror. These girls needed to back off.
"Wait a second…" one gyaru muttered, recognition flickering. "Kobayashi Satoru… that sounds familiar."
"Yeah, me too," the other agreed.
"Heh." Rena's laugh was frigid and humorless.
Then it clicked. One of them snapped her fingers, eyes wide. "Kobayashi is—!!"
They locked eyes with Rena. They'd only met him once, but his name had floated around the gossip circles like a joke.
The guy who confessed to Rena-chan… what kind of league was he even playing in…?
Rena laughed again—three short, icy bursts. "Exactly. Him."
Her mind screamed: I didn't lose! I rejected him! There was no defeat!
The gyaru exchanged glances, silently asking the same question: Is Rena stupid? Letting a guy that talented slip away?
…
"Here."
Back in the classroom, Satoru handed Akane yesterday's freshly washed bento box, then pointed at today's empty one. "Should I wash this one at home?"
"NO NEED!" Akane beamed, shaking her head vigorously. "I'll do it. I want to."
Satoru scratched the back of his head, frowning slightly. "Feels like I'm just mooching off you…"
"Finally admitting it?" Akane shot him a playful side-eye. "Are those your true feelings?"
"Urk—" Satoru made a strangled noise; classic reaction whenever she cornered him.
But as Akane turned to head down the stairs, her voice softened. "Just kidding~~ You always share your extra food with me, so… it's fair."
She spun the empty bento box in her hand, holding it just below her apron, a mix of disappointment and hope in her tone. "Next time… will you sing for me again?"