Monday at Haruyama High starts as any other. The cherry trees toss petals along the old brick path, and class is slow, same as always. Yuto Shimizu, who’s in his second year, leaves his chemistry book behind, eyes fixed on the floor as he heads to lunch.
Yuto’s average at sports. Not great, not bad. Teachers forget his name sometimes, despite his quiet grades. He doesn’t bother them and most classmates don’t aim conversations his way. One friend, Akari Sato, claims he has hidden depths. He just shrugs. What for?
As the season shifts, the annual Haruyama Talent Show posters pop up on every wall. Akari pokes at his chest. “Why don’t you try out?”
Yuto gawks at her. “Me? And do what, show everyone how fast I blink?”
She laughs, but pauses. “Come on, I could show you my painting.” For her, it’d be small, but for Yuto it’s tough to stand on a stage. Fear tickles his skull. Who would care, anyway?
Most wouldn’t, right?
But there’s a secret: in the dead of night he visits the old music room beneath the gym. The piano there is a little sharp, but Yuto’s hands race across keys in the cracked moon light. Nobody’s heard him play – not his parents, not a single friend.
Thursday, things change. A strange sound hits Yuto as he pokes inside after school, keys in hand. Someone’s in the room. He freezes, heart tight in his throat. Could it be a ghost? Akari follows him, uninvited and usually too bold. Instead, it’s Sousuke, his class rival, picking at a violin, tune both sweet and woeful.
The silence splits as they lock eyes.
Sousuke: “Oh…it’s you, Shimizu.”
Yuto: “Sorry, just came for—”
And then Akari tumbles into the doorway, arms filled with pastel drawings. “What’s…wow! Are you both here to practice?”
They fumble for answers. Sousuke closes his case in a rush; Yuto’s cheeks burn pink. “No,” each try, overlapping. Then, like lightning, Akari grins. “Guys. Listen to your sounds together.”
She nudges Yuto to the piano, plants herself cross-legged in the room’s shadow. Pressure mounts. Why’s it so hard to just do what he loves with eyes on him?
Yuto glances to Sousuke, who raises his bow as if accepting battle. Their song is clumsy at first. Then, notes chase and find each other. Akari’s eyes shine.
The bell above sings curfew. Yuto finds his shirt damp with sweat, heart racing but happy. For once, another’s hands shake too:
Sousuke: “You’re good.”
Yuto: “You too.”
Akari: “We should all enter—together!”
Monday’s Talent Show list fills up. Akari draws a trio’s name, her script looping and wild. But after school, panic hits Yuto full force. Regiment and routine fall away. People whisper as news spreads: the school’s top brain, loudest artist, and shyest guy, all up for a band?
Yuto wonders, Who am I when someone finally sees me? Sousuke broods—does he dare play in public, wild or not? Akari trusts, no doubts flickering in her eyes.
At home, Yuto debates quitting. Stand up and everyone will remember his mistakes forever. Play invisible, stay safe. But then he remembers Akari’s smile when their music rose, how Sousuke’s intense focus made him try harder.
Show night: lights flare. Backstage, Yuto trembles, Akari paints nerves onto a fresh canvas, and Sousuke tunes strings in sharp silence. Ours is the last act. “Let’s make them feel what we felt in that old room,” Akari whispers.
Yuto steps to the piano; Sousuke raises the bow; Akari unrolls a new mural behind them. Spotlights hit—and Yuto glances past the crowd, palm damp, throat dry.
That’s it, the start of new legend: The music begins.
Which talents are you sure you’re hiding from the world right now?
Lights fade up, audience silent in awe.
End this time on the cliff’s edge: noting from above, the headmaster listens, face unreadable. Is this just the start—or will their triumph spark rivals or rules broken, waiting to fall hard in the episodes ahead? The stage bathed in blue, three silhouettes united—yet alone.—ready or not.
