Shy Girl

#Chapter 3💐

The morning had begun with the usual coldness of the Nakamura household. Miyu had been woken up at 4:30 AM by Mrs. Tamaki, who had "discovered" a microscopic speck of dust on the picture frames in the hallway. Miyu had spent two hours cleaning on her hands and knees, her fingers raw from the cold water and the harsh chemicals. When she finally arrived at school, her spirit was already frayed, her small frame trembling slightly in her brown uniform.

She headed straight for the third floor during recess, desperate for the sanctuary of the piano. She needed to see Haruki. She needed to feel like she existed in a world that wasn't defined by chores and criticism.

But when she opened the door to Music Room 2, her heart didn't just stop—it shattered.

The grand piano, the beautiful black instrument that had been her only friend, was a scene of c*****e. Someone had poured bottles of thick, white correction fluid and acrylic paint over the keys. The ivory was sticky, ruined, and dripping onto the floor. And taped to the music stand, right over the handwritten notes of Haruki’s mother’s song, was a printed note in bold, ugly letters:

**"NOISE IS NOT MUSIC. STAY AWAY FROM HIM, YOU MOUSE."**

Miyu let out a strangled sob, her hands flying to her mouth to stifle the sound. She rushed to the piano, her brown short boots clicking frantically on the wood. She tried to wipe the wet paint away with her sleeves, but it only smeared, staining the brown fabric of her uniform and the skin of her palms.

"No... no, please... not this," she whimpered, her tears falling into the white mess.

The door opened. It wasn't Haruki. It was Rina Takahashi, flanked by two other girls who were snickering behind their manicured hands. Rina looked impeccable, her hair perfectly styled, a contrast to Miyu’s disheveled state.

"Oh my, look at this mess," Rina said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "It looks like someone didn't want you playing anymore. Maybe the school finally realized how annoying your 'singing' is. It’s for the best, really."

"Did you do this?" Miyu asked. Her voice was shaking, but for the first time, a spark of defensive fire lit up her eyes. She stood her ground, even as her eyes spilled over with tears. "This... this is Haruki-kun’s mother’s song! How could you be so heartless?"

Rina’s face shifted instantly. The mask of sympathy dropped, revealing a cold, sharp-edged jealousy. She stepped forward, her shadow towering over Miyu. "I don't care about a dead woman’s scribbles. I care about my life. Haruki is going to be a pro athlete. He’s the star of this school. He doesn't have time for a charity case like you. If I see you near him again, the piano won't be the only thing that gets ruined. Do you understand me, you little brat?"

Rina reached out and shoved Miyu’s shoulder. It wasn't a violent push, but in her weakened, emotional state, Miyu lost her balance. Her boots slipped on a patch of spilled paint, and she began to fall backward.

She closed her eyes, bracing for the impact of the hard, dusty floor.

But the impact never came.

A pair of strong, steady arms caught her from behind, pulling her upright. The scent of peppermint and fresh air flooded her senses.

"Get out."

The voice was low, vibrating with a rage Miyu had never heard before. She looked up to see Haruki. His face was pale, his jaw set so tight it looked like it might snap. He wasn't looking at Miyu; he was staring at Rina with eyes that were no longer kind. They were terrifying, cold enough to freeze the room.

"Haruki! I was just telling her that the room was a mess—" Rina started, her voice faltering as she took a step back.

"I said, *get out*," Haruki repeated, his voice rising in power. He kept one arm firmly around Miyu’s shoulders, pulling her against his side. "All of you. If I ever see you near Miyu or this room again, I’m going to the principal with the footage from the hallway cameras. And Rina? We were never 'together.' I let you hang around because I was being polite, but that ends now. Don't ever speak to her again."

Rina’s face went white. She opened her mouth to argue, but the look of pure disgust in Haruki’s eyes silenced her. She turned on her heel and fled, her friends scurrying behind her.

The room fell silent. Miyu stood there, her head bowed, her shoulders shaking as the adrenaline left her body. Haruki turned to her, his expression softening instantly into one of deep concern. He didn't say a word at first; he simply wrapped both arms around her in a steady, protective hug.

He reached up and patted her back gently, his hand moving in slow, rhythmic circles. "I'm sorry," he whispered into the top of her head. "I'm so sorry, Miyu. I should have been here sooner. I won't let them hurt you again."

Miyu shook her head, her face buried in the lapel of his brown blazer. "The piano... the song... it’s ruined. I failed you."

Haruki pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, though he kept his hands on her shoulders. He reached out with one finger and wiped a tear from her cheek, ignoring the white paint that smeared onto his own skin.

"The piano can be cleaned, and the song is already in here," he said, touching his own forehead and then hers. "You gave it life, Miyu. No amount of paint can take that away. And as for you... you aren't a 'mouse.' You’re the bravest girl I’ve ever met."

He stayed there with her, patting her back until her breathing slowed. The sun began to set, casting long, golden shadows across the stained keys, but for the first time, the music room felt like a fortress instead of a hiding place.

The aftermath of the "Piano Incident" changed the rhythm of the school. Rina and her circle were uncharacteristically quiet, avoiding the third floor entirely. However, the rumors didn't stop; they simply mutated. Now, people whispered about how the "Silent Girl" had bewitched the school's star athlete.

Miyu sat in class, her fingers still stained slightly pink from the scrubbing she had to do to get the paint off. She felt the weight of Haruki’s protection, but she also felt the fear of what it would cost him.

During the afternoon break, Haruki appeared at her classroom door. He didn't care about the gasps from the other students. He simply gestured for her to come out.

"I talked to the music teacher," Haruki said as they walked toward the roof. "The piano is being professionally cleaned. But until then, we’re going to find a new place to practice."

"Practice?" Miyu asked, her voice small. "Haruki-kun, you should be training for your meet. You've already missed so much time because of me."

Haruki stopped and turned to face her. The wind on the rooftop caught his dark hair, blowing it across his forehead. He reached out and caught Miyu’s hand—not a romantic hold, but a firm, grounding squeeze.

"Miyu, I want you to join the Music Club," he said firmly.

Miyu’s eyes widened. "I... I can't! I'm too shy. I can't play in front of people. I'd fail."

"You won't fail because I'll be there," Haruki replied. "I'm joining, too. As an 'assistant' or a 'roadie'—whatever they need. I told the club president that if they want me to help with the sports festival music, they have to take you as their lead pianist."

Miyu felt a rush of vertigo. "You... you did that for me?"

"I did it for the song," he said, though the look in his eyes said something else entirely. "And because I want the world to hear what I heard. You have a gift, Miyu. Don't let people like Rina or... or anyone else make you hide it."

He spent the rest of the hour following her back to her locker, chatting about mundane things to keep her mind off her anxiety. He was like a shield, walking on the side where the other students were, effectively blocking their stares.

When school ended, Miyu felt a sense of dread. Returning home meant returning to Mrs. Tamaki’s reign of terror. As she walked toward the gates, she saw Haruki waiting by his bicycle.

"I'm walking you home," he announced.

"No! You can't!" Miyu cried out, her heart hammering. "My stepmother... if she sees you... she'll be so angry."

"Let her be angry," Haruki said, his jaw setting in that stubborn line she was beginning to recognize. "I want to see where you live. I want to know you’re safe."

The walk was silent and tense. Miyu led him toward the smaller, older part of town where her house sat in the shadow of a large hill. When they reached the gate, the front door opened immediately.

Mrs. Tamaki stood there, her eyes widening as she saw Haruki. She recognized him—everyone in town knew the Saito family. Her face shifted from an expression of fury to one of oily, fake politeness.

"Oh! Haruki-kun? What a surprise. Why are you with our Miyu?" she asked, her voice high and artificial.

Haruki didn't bow. He stood straight, looking Mrs. Tamaki in the eye. "I'm Miyu’s friend, Ma'am. We're working on a music project together. I’ll be seeing a lot of her from now on, so I wanted to introduce myself."

Miyu watched, breathless. No one had ever spoken to her stepmother with such quiet, unshakable authority. Even Kenji usually backed down.

Mrs. Tamaki’s smile twitched. "A project? Well, Miyu has many chores—"

"I'm sure she does," Haruki interrupted smoothly. "But she’s also the most talented pianist at North High. It would be a shame if the school board heard that her 'chores' were interfering with her academic and musical success. Wouldn't it?"

The threat was subtle, but it landed with the force of a blow. Mrs. Tamaki’s face flushed red, but she couldn't argue with a Saito. She stepped aside, gesturing for Miyu to come in.

Before Miyu crossed the threshold, Haruki reached out and patted her back one last time. "See you tomorrow, Miyu. Practice the bridge of the song, okay?"

Miyu nodded, a tiny, genuine smile touching her lips. As the door closed, she heard her stepmother’s sharp intake of breath, but for the first time, Miyu wasn't afraid. She had a protector, a melody, and a reason to believe that tomorrow might actually be bright.