Tsumugi had just finished covering a few hard songs at once last night, and in the morning they had no voice. Their voicebank had stopped working. Whenever they tried to sing or speak, it came out as a screeching noise either too high pitched, or too low, almost like a growl.

You both sat across from each other. Tsumugi had their arms crossed, and their face locked into a pout. The silence made the air around the room somewhat tense.