The wind that drifted through Harmony Sector 7 carried faint echoes—notes played hours ago, rehearsals long ended, and stray hums from students floating between dorms and dreamscapes. Lyra sat alone on a moss-covered soundstone, its surface thrumming gently beneath her as it responded to her idle humming. Around her, the garden was alive with quiet resonance. Silverleaf trees chimed when brushed by breeze, and flowers unfurled to catch melodies like stardust rain.
It was nearing curfew, but her heart wouldn't let her rest. The pressure of time ticked in her chest louder than any metronome. Day two, and still no official bandmates. Only a few polite maybes. A couple of blunt noes. One awkward misunderstanding involving a techno-flute duo and a territorial contract that she hadn't read fully before signing and hastily voiding.
She lowered her head, letting her fingers trace invisible keys on the stone beneath her, the humming continuing low, unsure.
"G minor… suspended fourth," a voice said behind her, rough like gravel rubbed over silk.
Lyra turned sharply.
A boy leaned against a tree, half-swallowed by shadow and apathy. Hair black as midnight, a guitar case slung lazily over his shoulder, one hand tucked into his coat pocket. He wasn't dressed like the others—no glowing threads, no exaggerated flair. Just plain, perfectly unremarkable clothes that somehow made him stand out more.
"You have a strange way of stringing notes together," he added without looking at her. "Wrong in theory, but it still works."
Lyra straightened. "Who are you?"
He shrugged. "I was just walking."
VIVA pinged in her ear without appearing: Name: Kai. Former top performer. Quit mid-semester. Refuses all invitations. Guitarist. Soul-score unmatched. Compatibility: 97%. Warning: emotionally unavailable. Favorite chord: Dm9.
Lyra blinked. "Wait—you're Kai? The Kai? From the Whisperwood Showcase?"
He winced. "Don't say it like that."
"You were legendary," she breathed. "You played with—"
"I said don't."
She clamped her mouth shut. The silence between them stretched as if testing her patience.
Kai sat on the edge of a nearby stone drum, kicked his foot once, and cracked open the latch of his guitar case just enough for the soft glow of strings to shine through.
"You always hum alone?" he asked finally.
Lyra looked down. "I… I guess."
Kai's voice was quieter now. "It's a dangerous place to be. Alone with music. It either saves you or swallows you."
"I don't have a choice," she murmured. "I need to form a band or I'll be… erased."
"I know."
"Of course you do," she said, trying not to sound bitter.
Kai's eyes met hers at last. They weren't cold. They weren't warm, either. They were… bruised. Like someone who had stared too long at a sunset and gone blind to color afterward.
"I heard your Empty Stage song," he said. "It hurt."
"Sorry?"
"That's a compliment." He stood up and opened the case.
The guitar was beautiful. Midnight body laced with faint gold veins, like rivers running through obsidian. He strapped it on, checked the tuning with a flick, and sat back down with casual grace.
"I don't jam. I don't perform. I definitely don't audition. But…"
Lyra's breath caught.
"I haven't heard something raw in a while," he said softly. "Your hum was ugly. Honest. Like mine used to be. So… one song."
"One song?"
"One." He turned his back slightly. "That's all you get."
Lyra glanced at VIVA's spectral flicker in the air beside her. The AI gave a subtle nod. Don't waste this.
She stepped forward. "What key?"
"You choose."
Lyra closed her eyes. Let her breath even. She thought of home—not the place, but the feeling. Her mother's distant voice, the echo of betrayal in the school's hallways, the night rain against the rooftop where she nearly gave up. The hurt. The break. The tiny bloom of light that door gave her.
She hummed again.
Soft, slow, trembling.
Kai closed his eyes and played.
The guitar didn't sing—it spoke. Whispered, really. Like a secret only he knew how to tell. Her voice wove into the notes like thread pulled through the seams of a broken coat, mending something that had been unraveling too long. He followed her lead, and she followed his instincts, until neither of them was leading anymore. It wasn't perfect, and that made it better.
The garden listened. Even the trees stopped chiming. The air stilled.
When the final note faded, Lyra opened her eyes.
Kai was staring at his hands. Then at the guitar. Then at nothing.
"Damn," he muttered.
"Was it that bad?"
He looked up sharply. "No. That's the problem."
Silence passed again, this time different. Thick with decision.
Kai sighed. "Don't get excited. I'm not joining your band."
Lyra's heart sank.
"But…" He slung the guitar over his shoulder. "You want someone to help rehearse, I'll… consider playing backup until you find others."
Her lips parted in disbelief.
"Just until then," he repeated, and vanished into the night like a note played too fast to catch.
Lyra stood frozen for a moment, then turned to VIVA.
"He… agreed?"
VIVA was smiling. Or at least, projecting an emotion that mimicked joy. "He did. And with that, your first chord has been struck."
Lyra looked back toward the shadowed path where Kai had gone.
She didn't know what tomorrow would bring.
But tonight, the music had chosen her back.
END OF CHAPTER 5