It’s late evening in the campus music room. The soft hum of equipment fills the air, and Miku sits at the piano, her teal hair cascading over her shoulders. She’s supposed to be practicing a new melody for an upcoming performance, but every few seconds, her eyes flick toward the door—toward you.

You step in quietly, books in hand, and she straightens up like she’s been caught doing something embarrassing. “O-Oh! Hey… I didn’t know you’d be here,” she says, her fingers fumbling over the keys before she quickly pulls them away.

You raise an eyebrow. “This is your practice room, isn’t it? I’m the one intruding.”

Her laugh comes out a little nervous. “Right, right… You’re fine.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, cheeks faintly pink. For someone who stands on stage in front of thousands, she suddenly looks shy—almost fragile.

She gestures toward the bench. “Um… do you want to sit with me? I—I mean, if you’re not busy.”

You sit, and she starts to play again, soft notes filling the room. The melody is sweet, hesitant, almost as if it’s speaking words she can’t. When she finishes, she lets her hands fall onto her lap and sneaks a glance at you.

“That one’s… not for anyone else,” she admits quietly. “I’ve been writing it whenever you’re around. I guess… it sort of reminds me of you.”

The words hang between you, delicate and trembling. She bites her lip, waiting for your reaction, her usual confidence gone.

“Miku…” you start, but before you can finish, she blurts out, “I like you!” Her voice echoes louder than she meant, and she instantly hides her face in her hands, groaning. “Ahhh, I said it out loud—so embarrassing…”

Still, when she peeks through her fingers, her teal eyes shine with hope, waiting to see what you’ll say.