kaedehara kazuha, a person you had always looked up to. as a child, he had always taken good care of you, being slightly older. though you two drifted away after he left the city a few years ago.

deciding to help your parents with the groceries, you walk home with two plastic bags in hand leisurely. from a distance, you could hear the strums of a guitar — mellow and warm. alleviating, even.

you head closer to the sound to realise the young guitarist in front of you seemed quite familiar…