Unspoken Words between Us

 Music had finally become Hiroki's life.

 Outside of his long hours at university, he found himself constantly drawn back to that tucked-away studio in the alley. The scent of wood, the tang of freshly changed strings, and the chaotic symphony of instruments blending together had become part of his world.

 Twice a week, the newly formed band gathered to rehearse. But it was during these sessions that Hiroki's major flaw came to light.

 His guitar tracks, recorded in solitude, sounded smooth and expressive. But live, Hiroki stumbled. His fingers hesitated, chords slipped out of place. The truth was simple: he had taught himself everything, with no formal training and no experience playing in a group. He felt like he was merely replicating sounds, not flowing with them.

In those first few months, Jun became his guide. Patient and perceptive, she corrected everything from how he used his fingers to how he felt the rhythm.

 Practice was brutal. Some nights Hiroki stayed in the studio for hours, playing one riff over and over because it didn't feel "right" yet. His fingers blistered, calluses thickened. But he kept pushing through, never letting anyone see his exhaustion. The band, too, struggled. Clashing schedules, stylistic differences, heated arguments over arrangements—they faced it all.

 Eventually, Hiroki found his stride. He could play with the band, syncing better with each session. They finally decided on a name: HIMrs6.

 Their work turned serious. They took promotional photos, posted content on social media, and searched for performance gigs. But the road was far from glamorous. Their early gigs—at underground venues and on street corners—were sparsely attended. The crowd's reactions were lukewarm at best.

 HIMrs6's sound wasn't mainstream. Their first songs—Shirayuki (Experimental Rock), Tada Yume Dake (Dream Rock, Shoegaze), and Kakurenbo (Metal Rock)—were steeped in psychological themes and dark, rebellious lyrics. Raw and haunting, the music was powerful but polarizing.

 With tight budgets, limited gear, and university schedules, things were far from easy. Still, Hiroki made a choice: he would invest in what he truly wanted. He took on more responsibility, spending more time at the studio.

 Even so, three times a week, he had to travel back and forth between Osaka City University and the studio. Night trains became familiar companions, where he slumped against the seats, headphones looping his rough mixes while he tried to reimagine every detail.

 As weeks blurred into months, Hiroki spiraled into an exhausting rhythm. Band, school, travel, work, and sleepless nights filled with thoughts of someone he hadn't seen in far too long: Yuna.

 Every night, as he collapsed onto his bed, her image flooded his mind. That ocean-blue hair like the endless sky, that sunshine smile, those crystal tears that sometimes fell without warning—they never left his memory.

 So Hiroki kept writing. Unfinished songs. Lyrics that never reached a chorus. Memories of Yuna tangled in every note, every word.

 The band kept moving forward. But Mallow and Raven were too carefree, Starlin as silent as ever, and Jun was always caught up managing the group. They functioned like a machine, each part doing its job.

 And Hiroki? He had long grown used to hiding everything.

 One day, after another draining lecture, Hiroki dragged his guitar out of class. His body was shaking, legs numb. The train was about to leave, but his limbs couldn't keep up. He leaned against the cold campus wall, vision blurring, unsure of where to go. If he'd ridden a motorbike that day, he might have passed out mid-ride.

 And then, just as his knees threatened to give out, a gentle hand reached for him. It was Yuna.

 She appeared like a miracle. Hiroki, barely conscious, let her guide him without resistance. Through his haze, he pointed her toward his dorm.

 Her arm around his shoulder, she supported him gently. He heard her mumbling, maybe scolding him. Rightfully so. Where had he been? Why hadn't he called? Of course, she was worried. Of course, she cared.

 At his dorm, Hiroki fumbled with the keys. Yuna helped him to bed, gently set his guitar aside, and pulled the blanket over him. He watched as she walked to his desk and glanced at the scattered lyric sheets.

 Then everything went dark.

 When Hiroki woke, pain flared through his arms and shoulders. His throat burned, head spinning. The room glowed with dim yellow light. As he blinked, a familiar figure came into focus. Yuna, sitting by his side, gently dabbing his forehead with a towel.

 When he stirred, she sat up instantly.

 "You're awake. How do you feel?"

 "...Am I still alive?" His voice was barely a whisper.

 "Idiot," she sighed, with a bittersweet smile. "Did you really think you were going to die?"

 He chuckled weakly. Truth be told, he didn't know how much longer he could have gone on.

 Yuna's brows furrowed. Her eyes studied his pale face, the sweat-matted strands of golden hair, and the worn-out fingers callused from overplaying.

 "How did you even find me?" Hiroki asked, flustered.

 "I came all the way from Osaka University."

"Yuna, you didn't have to—"

 "Don't give me that!" she snapped. "You didn't call, didn't message. You just disappeared. Do you know how worried I was? I know I can't control your life, but we're friends, aren't we? The least you could do was tell me where you were... what you were doing."

 Her voice cracked. She turned away. "I waited, you know... I waited for you."

 That last sentence echoed in his mind. She waited for me. Did that mean... she missed me too?

 He wanted to say something, but she had already stood up, walking over to his desk.

 "These lyrics..." she whispered, touching the scattered pages.

 He sat up slowly. He knew the truth was about to surface.

 "Another crime," she pouted, flipping through his scribbled notes. "You never let me hear your songs. Who're these about, huh?"

 Hiroki jolted. She was asking again. But she couldn't know. Thankfully, he never mentioned her name. Just a nameless girl he'd loved for far too long.

 "N-no one. Just random inspiration. They're all unfinished drafts. Not even arranged yet. I—" He paused. Should he tell her?

"I joined a band recently. But things are still... unstable. Those songs, they're not just mine anymore. It's a group effort now. I can't share them without everyone's okay."

 "I get it," Yuna nodded, stepping back toward him. "Then I won't bother you anymore. I'll give you space. Just... message me sometime, okay?"

 She stacked the papers neatly and turned to leave. Her steps were slow, heavy. Hiroki's heart twisted. He clenched his fists, wanting to ask her to stay, but the words stuck.

 Until finally, one escaped:

 "Yuna... Do you miss me?"

 She froze at the door. Her eyes softened, gaze flickering like a candle in wind. She inhaled sharply, then turned back with a gentle smile.

 "I do. What about you?"

 "Me too," Hiroki whispered. "I miss you... a lot."

 And I like you... a lot, too.

….

 Album sales and single releases by HIMrs6 were plummeting. Live gigs barely covered costs, and digital royalties were negligible. The band had hit a wall.

 Jun called everyone for a serious meeting in the studio. She sat on a swivel chair, chin in hand, exhaustion etched in her eyes. She was juggling her own responsibilities—studying at the conservatory, modeling part-time, composing, and producing music—so she'd soon have limited time for the studio.

 But she wasn't the only busy one. Each member had their own struggles, and nobody seemed to have the energy to really look out for each other anymore.

 Then, just as the mood grew bleak, a low voice cut through the silence.

 "So… what are we going to do about it?"

 All eyes turned to Starlin. The platinum-haired, stoic drummer—usually silent and distant—suddenly spoke. It was unexpected enough, but what came next was more surprising: Starlin stepped up to lead.

 He spoke softly, without force, yet his resolve was clear. His quiet strength shifted the atmosphere in the room—from astonishment to focused attentiveness.

 The following day, Raven and Mallow lounged on the couch, playing games as usual—…until they discovered their controllers were gone. Starlin, expression cold, stated simply, "This is Jun's studio, not your personal arcade."

 The turning point came when Mallow intentionally played a wrong bass line to taunt Starlin. Calmly, Starlin corrected him, making the entire band wait until he got it right before continuing.

 The energy in the studio transformed. The band shed its chaotic habits; Starlin's disciplined approach made them realize they were working with someone truly serious about the music.

 Hiroki, more than anyone, respected Starlin completely. He didn't complain or rebel—he just followed instructions. Didn't sell? They'd change that. Under Starlin's leadership, HIMrs6 committed to creating a new album—one that showcased each member's unique style yet remained rooted in rock:

Mallow chose Pop‑inspired Rock: a high‑energy love song—quietly meant for his girlfriend.Raven leaned into sultry Gothic Rock & Roll: seductive yet powerful.Starlin stayed true to his signature style: heavy, psychological tracks recalling his childhood days as a street drummer.Jun merged Shoegaze with Dream Rock, baring her inner world where love and passion blur in poetic complexity.Hiroki brought unfinished songs born from sleepless nights and longing for Yuna—raw, sincere drafts transformed into smooth, guitar‑driven R&B.

 Their second album, Him, was complete. The cover showed cracked reflections of the band in a broken mirror on a dimly lit stairwell—Mallow and Raven in the foreground, Hiroki a few steps above, with Starlin and Jun at the top.

 The new direction resonated. Creative energy and consistent self-promotion pushed the album up the charts. Jun's modeling fame also helped—her fans jumped on board, boosting album sales and social media buzz. Within days, Him shot into the Top 5 trending albums for the week, catching up with bands like One OK Rock, SCANDAL, Coldrain, and SPYAIR.

 Hiroki's dream had come true: performing on stage, pouring every ounce of his heart into music. His songs—once fragments of midnight musings—became full, vibrant performances. He also got to hear Jun's beautiful vocals live. And in the crowd stood Yuna—her radiant smile, focused eyes, the way she swayed to the music—all guided his fingers across the strings, each note a declaration of his love.

 Every chord was a secret I love you. Yuna adored these songs; she bought several copies of Him just to listen on repeat, telling him how calming & comforting they felt to her.

 This month's album sales provided much-needed financial relief. Revenue from streaming and live appearances steadied the group. To celebrate, they planned an outing: a lakeside trip to Kawaguchi. It would be more than just a celebration—it would be a chance to breathe, reconnect, and find balance again.

 Hiroki invited Yuna—but she was busy. Mallow managed to bring his girlfriend along instead, and the band prepared for a well-deserved day of relaxation.

 The fresh air and majestic scenery around Lake Kawaguchi brought a sense of calm to everyone. The band set up tents near the shore, voices full of laughter echoing around them. That day blurred into adventures—hiking up Mount Fuji, kayaking across the lake, even turning their camp into an impromptu music rehearsal space, harmonizing with nature's own soundtrack.

 As dusk fell like a painting coming alive, the group returned to their campsite and gathered around the fire. Moonlight shimmered on the lake, illuminating the grand silhouette of Mount Fuji in the distance. The beauty and serenity was breathtaking.

 Mallow, who usually hugged Starlin, wrapped his arms tightly around his girlfriend instead while warm light flickered across their faces by the fire. He chatted with her about their trip and asked how she had enjoyed recent performances.

 Raven sat nearby, unable to hide her icy expression at the couple's affection. Quietly, she rose and walked toward the Ford Ranger to gather cocktail ingredients. Jun, unaware, continued roasting marshmallows and cookies, preparing s'mores by the flames.

 "Where have those two gone?" asked Mallow, glancing around for Hiroki and Starlin.

 "Over by the lake, talking about something," came the reply as she bit into her s'more.

 Mallow had just made one too, offering it to his girlfriend with a teasing smile. Meanwhile, Hiroki and Starlin returned from the lake, walking side by side in a rare, peaceful silence. They casually flicked their cigarette butts into the fire, flames flaring up and warming the circle of friends.

 Jun's thoughtful face lit up in the firelight as she broke the quiet:

 "I'm going to take a break from university starting tomorrow so I can focus more on HIMrs6."

 Raven, in mid-pour of a "Forest Breeze" cocktail, froze at Jun's words, clearly surprised:

"You're… dropping out of college? What about you?"

 Jun nodded, sincere:

 "I've wanted to do this for a long time. The conservatory doesn't let me explore my creativity—it takes up most of my time and my family's money. Being in the band gives me musical experience, so I'm choosing to invest in that, alongside my modeling."

 Silence followed. The crackling fire was the only sound. Even Raven, usually carefree and rebellious, looked thoughtful as she swirled her ice in the glass with a soft clinking.

 "So… are your parents okay with this?" she asked.

 Jun bit her lip:

 "They stopped interfering once I became an adult. They wanted me to defy the expectations, and I fought it hard—but looking back, they weren't wrong. I finally understood where I belong and whose guidance I should follow."

 "That's deep," said Mallow in his easygoing way, "They obviously care a lot about you."

 Jun shrugged:

 "Yeah. Hey Mallow, looks like you've got something to say?"

All eyes turned to Mallow. He scratched his neck and glanced at his girlfriend, who watched him expectantly. Leaning toward Starlin, he whispered, and upon getting a subtle nod, he inhaled deeply and began:

 "When I first met Jun, Starlin and I were performing on the street—a place familiar to us. I'd been pushed into a children's troupe raised on the streets, where poverty meant forced training. It was rough. We taught ourselves basic skills, just enough to earn a few coins."

 Hiroki noticed Starlin sipping his cocktail and lighting another cigarette—there was no doubt their past was painful. The image of stunted children performing on sidewalks, barely eating, was one Hiroki would never have imagined from the confident Mallow before him.

 "I was terrible at playing," Mallow continued, his smile now forced, "often beaten and mocked. But Starlin, the best drummer among us, took me under his wing—teaching me mandolin, ukulele, electric guitar, bass. We performed together everywhere. I was energetic, and he was a gifted drummer. We made enough money to support the troupe and ourselves. When the troupe was shut down by authorities, Starlin and I kept performing across towns—no education, no degrees—just surviving on street money."

 His recounting carried a heavy weight. Raven listened, pensive, occasionally narrowing her eyes. She averted her gaze whenever Mallow's girlfriend leaned in to comfort him.

 "Hey," Mallow nudged Hiroki, "your turn. Anything you want to share?"

 Hiroki straightened, unsettled by being put on the spot. He glanced at his empty cocktail, gathering his words. The alcohol loosened something in him, and he finally dropped his guard:

 "I come from a broken family. Mom passed when I was very young, and my father... wasn't really there for me. And… I like someone—a lot. But I've never confessed...because she seems to care about someone else."

 "For six years now?" Jun murmured, turning to him. "When do you plan to tell her?"

 Mallow nodded emphatically:

 "Yeah, you've known her forever—you gotta tell her how you feel. What if she likes you back? If not...at least you'll know."

 "But she's my best friend," Hiroki said, voice strained.

 "Come on," Mallow encouraged. "Six years is a long time. She won't stop being your friend just because you confessed."

 Hiroki hesitated, gaze locking on the fire:

 "It's complicated...I might be the one to step back."