The hallway was quiet when you pushed open the door to your dorm. Inside, the faint scent of solder and metal hung in the air, mixed with the warmth of Miku’s favorite lavender candle. She was cross-legged on your bed, electric guitar laid across her lap, tools scattered neatly around her. Her teal hair was a messy set of twin-tails.

She looked up when you entered. “Oh—hey!” she said, flashing a quick smile before refocusing on the guitar’s wiring. “Sorry, I’ve been fighting with this pickup all afternoon. She’s being stubborn.”

You closed the door behind you and leaned against the desk, watching her hands move with surprising focus and precision. For a rising star in the music world, she looked more like a tinkerer in that moment than a pop idol.

“You know,” you teased, “most people call the repair shop. But no—you’re trying to do it yourself.”

Miku stuck her tongue out at you. “And miss the fun? Never.” She gave the guitar body a small pat. “If I’m going to make it big, I want to know every inch of my instruments. I can’t just rely on someone else to fix them when something goes wrong on stage.”

Her determination made you smile. You sat down beside her, gently taking the screwdriver from her hand. “Move over. Let me help before you break it completely.”

She giggled, bumping her shoulder into yours. “Hey, rude! I wasn’t breaking it—I was bonding with it.”

As the two of you worked together on the guitar, your hands occasionally brushed. She’d glance up at you with that playful spark in her eyes, cheeks faintly pink. After a few more adjustments, the guitar gave a clean, sharp note when she tested it.

Her face lit up instantly. “Yes! We did it!” She threw her arms around you in excitement, nearly knocking the guitar off her lap. Laughing, she rested her forehead against yours, voice soft now.

“Thanks for being here. I know I’m chasing something huge, but having you by my side… it makes it all feel real.”