Why Did I Sing That? Also, Why is Everyone Looking at Me Like I Summoned a Demon?

🎸

Mayumi’s house made Haruki feel tiny and insignificant. In other words, it was massive. More fitting for a fairytale movie set than the home of a high school girl. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling a bit out of place as she glanced around.

It was a Western-style manor. Half-timbered, with those dark wooden beams that crisscrossed the beige stone exterior. A tall wrought-iron gate stood at the entrance, guarding a giant courtyard. Beyond that, sprawling, intricate gardens adorned with exotic foreign flowers.

She stepped inside and slid off her shoes with a practiced motion, placing them neatly by the door. The interior was just as grand as the outside. Warm light spilled through the tall Tudor-style windows and onto the marble floor. The place smelled vaguely citrusy.

“You’re late.”

A pink-haired girl stood at the end of the corridor with her arms crossed and her foot tapping.

“Sorry, Sakura, I was helping Aika with something at the computer lab.”

“Haru-chaaan!” came a soft, singsong voice from down the hall. “I'm so happy you made it...”

Mayumi appeared, her fluffy blonde hair bouncing with each step as she practically skipped over to give her a hug.

Sakura pulled on the sleeves of her hoodie like she was holding a grudge. “We’ve already eaten all the good snacks.”

Mayumi gasped, eyes wide. “That’s not true! I saved some Pocky for you.”

“Exactly one stick,” Sakura added dryly as she walked off into the living room.

Haruki gave her a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Wow, thanks guys. One whole stick.”

Mayumi giggled and latched onto Haruki’s arm, already tugging her toward the living room.

“Don’t listen to Saku, we’ve barely started anything! I was starting to wonder if it would just be me and grumpy over there.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Sakura called from the living room.

“You’re always grumpy when Aika’s late,” Mayumi said with a giggle.

“We need her,” Sakura replied. “It’s not a real practice without the lead guitarist. Did she say how long she’d be?”

“Dunno. She’s still at the computer club with Kenji,” Haruki replied.

When they reached the living room, it became clear that it was just as excessive as the rest of the house—way too big for three girls and a couple of bags of microwave popcorn. It was the kind of place where ghosts should be playing piano in the middle of the night, or a film crew should be rolling a romantic scene in soft lighting. Gilded wallpaper, huge white curtains, and a chandelier that looked like it cost more than Haruki’s entire apartment.

On the wall, a TV was playing some cheesy romcom where two figures on a mountaintop seemed to be having a heartfelt moment against the dramatic backdrop of a sunset.

Haruki gently sat down on the couch, afraid of disturbing the aesthetic. “So... do we wait for Aika?”

Sakura thought for a moment, then waved dismissively. “Nah. The café gig is in less than a week and we got no time to lose. Let’s just run through the newer stuff.”

“OOOR… we could have a cookie first,” Mayumi said, holding onto a fat chocolate chip cookie with both hands and glistening eyes as if she had just found her new true love.

“You just want an excuse to stuff your face again,” Sakura said.

“Hey! Meanie.”

Haruki rolled her eyes. “Anyway… Should we start?”

BUM BUM BUM BUM!

“Sakura, are you even trying to keep the tempo? You’re speeding up in the middle of the verse. It’s throwing the whole rhythm off.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we were auditioning for a metronome.”

She tapped her drumstick on Mayumi’s head, who was standing next to her on the keyboard.

“Ouch!”

“Better?”

“Well, not really.”

They kept going. The sounds of their instruments reverberated in the large, mostly empty room within Mayumi’s mansion. Haruki’s fingers danced over the strings, her voice rising and lowering with the beat of Sakura’s drums, with Mayumi adding an additional dreamy layer to the music.

It wasn’t perfect. Not even close. But it felt good, Haruki thought. This is where she wanted to be.

She kept singing:
Starlit dreams, we’re running wild,
Our hearts beat faster, with every mile.
We’ll make it ours, no looking back,
Chasing our dreams, we’ll never lose track!

Sakura was fully locked in now, eyes narrowed in concentration as she attacked the drum set with violent, Sakura-like hits.

Haruki closed her eyes. One more chorus. The guitar buzzed under her fingertips. Her voice became a little more breathless.

And then…

It was as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room. The lights dimmed, or maybe her eyes adjusted. Her surroundings began to smear. The walls of Mayumi’s extravagant living room faded into a blur of warm color and Gaussian haze.

Her electric guitar buzzed even louder. Was she having a stroke?

Sakura and Mayumi continued to play as if they hadn’t noticed anything at all. Haruki’s own voice echoed strangely in her head. Her voice spilled from her throat like a jumbled mess of random sounds.

The melody collapsed inward— and then outward again— Until all that remained was the tremble of her own breath.

Inhale…
Exhale.
Inhale…
Exhale.

For a moment, she stood, all alone. Somewhere.

Where… am I?...
Who am I?...

Haruki couldn’t move. She couldn’t tell if it had been five seconds or five minutes.

And then she felt something hitting her forehead.
Bonk.
The plastic tip of a drumstick.

“Yo.”

As soon as it began, it ended, and the world snapped back into place.

Haruki blinked a few times.

Sakura stood in front of her now, raising a brow. “Don’t go full ghost mode mid-chorus.”

“And you sang the wrong lyrics,” she added, clearly annoyed. “This is a rock song, not a ballad about ticking clocks.”

Huh? Clocks?...

Mayumi jumped over with a concerned look on her face. “Haruki? Are you okay??”

Finally, Haruki forced herself to speak. Her voice sounded weak. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just... tired. I think I should go home and rest.”

“But we need to practice. Aika hasn’t even arrived yet...”

Mayumi shot Sakura an angry expression. “Haru’s not feeling well. She should go home!”

“Sorry guys, I’ll be fine. I just, uh... have a little headache.”

“Okay, I can call a cab for you. Please rest well and feel better, Haru!”

Without saying anything, Haruki grabbed her bag and headed for the door. 

The two shared a confused look. Then Sakura turned back to her drums, absentmindedly tapping her stick against the rim of the set. They didn’t much speak after that.

*

The tabby cat greeted her as she entered her quiet apartment.

Haruki stumbled into the living room and dropped her bag on the floor with a thud. She slid open the balcony door and stepped outside.

It was a clear night. The air was cold, but refreshing. Her soft auburn hair fluttered in the breeze.

Haruki thought about the practice at Mayumi’s place. She had never felt so strange before. So out of place.

She gripped the balcony railing, running her fingers against the cold metal.

Maybe it was simply exhaustion. Or nerves. People space out sometimes, right? Had weird days? Said the wrong things without realizing? It was normal for someone like Haruki. The band life wasn’t easy.

Still, this time it seemed like more than that. It just felt unfair. Everyone else seemed to fit so easily. So why did everything feel wrong? Perhaps it wasn’t where she wanted to be. Perhaps she was only pretending.

She looked out into the horizon. The dancing city lights seemed to merge with the stars in the sky. If only she could be there, she thought.

Haruki closed her eyes, only to be interrupted by a meowing cat behind her, rubbing up against her leg.

She knelt down and scratched behind its ear, her voice barely above a whisper.

“…Do you ever feel like you’re not all there?”

The cat purred in response.

Haruki sighed. Talking to a cat? Maybe she was losing her mind after all.

“C’mon, let’s go back inside. I’m sure you’re hungry.”

She stepped back into her apartment and slid the door shut.

She made her way to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.

Then she crouched down to open a small cabinet, scooping kibble into a little blue bowl. The familiar clatter sent the tabby trotting over with a soft meow.

“At least you still think I’m normal.”

The tabby cat only stared in confusion, letting out another "meow," before launching head-first into the kibble.