Guilt and Guitar Strings
A beautiful violin melody filled the air. Perfect, elegant, and precise. But then, Uta misplayed a single note.
The world shattered. An explosion tore through the memory, flames erupting everywhere. In the middle of the chaos and smoke, a young girl stood entirely alone, sobbing.
“Okaa-san! Okaa-san!”
2026, Tokyo , Japan
Uta bolted upright in bed, gasping for air. The phantom smell of smoke vanished, replaced by the quiet dark of her room, but the tears were already streaming down her face.
“Okaa-san... it’s all because of me,” she whispered into the empty room, her voice trembling.
She reached for a glass of water on her nightstand, her hands shaking as she drank. Stepping off the bed, her eyes involuntarily drifted to the corner of the room. Her violin case sat there in the shadows, a silent, heavy monument of guilt. She looked away quickly.
Walking into the kitchen, she forced her mind to go blank as she prepared her bento for the day.
After getting dressed in her new school uniform, she headed out. On any other day, Uta would have walked, but today she chose the public bus instead. She walked to the back, taking a seat in the third row from the rear, right by the window. Pressing her forehead against the glass, Uta stared out at the passing streets. She was still completely new to Tokyo, using the quiet ride to memorize the unfamiliar routes of the massive city.
As Uta stepped off the bus, a familiar, cheerful voice cut through the morning air.
“Ohayo, Uta-chan!” Aoi called out, rushing over to greet her with a wide smile.
Uta blinked, slightly surprised. “Ohayo, Aoi. You’re early today.”
“Yeah,” Aoi sighed, rolling her eyes playfully. “My mom practically kicked me out of the house early today.”
“Sou ka,” Uta said with a small, understanding nod. She glanced around the school gates. “Isn’t Daiki-kun here yet?”
“Not yet,” Aoi replied.
Before the words could fully leave Aoi’s mouth, a shadow burst forward. Daiki suddenly jumped right between them, grin stretching from ear to ear.
“Ohayo, minna!”
“Ohayo, Daiki-kun,” Uta and Aoi said in unison, laughing at his sudden entrance.
Falling into a comfortable rhythm, the three of them began walking toward the school building, their conversation shifting toward the stress of their upcoming exams. They changed into their school slippers at the entrance lockers and headed upstairs.
Once they entered the classroom and took their respective seats, the heavy chatter of the room quieted down. The sliding door clicked open, and their teacher walked in, heading straight for the podium to start taking morning attendance.
The teacher then started the class. It was just like every day, nothing special.The teacher’s voice droned on, filling the classroom with the steady, rhythmic sound of chalk tapping against the blackboard. Uta rested her chin in her hand, staring blankly at her notebook. Around her, the routine of the first period was in full swing—Daiki was secretly doodling in the margins of his textbook, and Aoi was diligently copying down formulas. It was completely ordinary. Completely quiet.
Thud.
A heavy sound echoed from the hallway, followed by the frantic squeak of indoor sneakers sprinting toward their room.
Before the teacher could even turn around, the classroom door slid open with a loud clack.
“Safe!” a breathless voice gasped.
A boy stood in the doorway, his messy hair sticking out in every direction, his school uniform slightly disheveled. Slung securely over his shoulder was a large, black acoustic guitar case. He was panting, a bright, unapologetic grin breaking across his face despite being completely late.
The teacher sighed, lowering the chalk. “You are far from safe, Asuka-kun. This is the third time this week.”
“Gomen, sensei! My alarm didn’t go off!” Sora said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, though his energy still practically radiated through the quiet room.
“Just take your seat,” the teacher muttered, scanning the rows before pointing toward the back. “Go sit at the empty desk next to Kasai-san.”
Uta stiffened. She watched as the boy nodded brightly, lugging his heavy guitar case down the aisle. As he slid into the desk right beside her, the faint scent of the morning air and polished wood settled into the space next to her. He caught her staring, turned his head, and flashed her a warm smile.
Uta gave a small, polite smile toward Sora before turning her head back to the board.
A few moments later, Sora leaned over toward Uta’s desk and whispered, “Hey... Kasai-san, do you have an extra pen by any chance? I completely forgot mine today.”
With an exhausted expression, Uta sighed and extended her arm, holding out a spare pen. “Forgetting your pen for two weeks straight? Here. If you forget it again tomorrow, I cannot help you, Asuka-san.”
Taking the pen from Uta’s hand, Sora grinned sheepishly. “Gomen, gomen. I won’t do it again.”
Eventually, the loud chime of the school bell rang through the hallway, signaling the end of the morning periods. The teacher lowered their textbook and turned to the class. “Have your lunch and come back in forty-five minutes.”
As the teacher left, the classroom instantly filled with the relaxed chatter of students shifting their desks. Sora immediately turned his chair around to face Uta.
“Arigatou, Kasai-san, for saving me today,” he said, bowing his head slightly in mock gratitude.
Uta let out a tiny laugh, her tone turning playful. “I’ve been saving you for the past two weeks, Asuka-san.”
Sora’s face instantly dropped into a dramatically depressed pout. “Gomen... I really won’t do it again. What can I do to repay you, Kasai-san?”
Before Sora could answer, Aoi and Daiki walked over, breaking the tension.
“Uta-chan, let’s have our lunch!” Aoi said, pulling up a chair.
Uta nodded, packing up her notebook. “Hai.”
Sora looked up at the group, flashing a hopeful grin. “Can I eat with you guys too?”
“Of course you can,” Aoi replied warmly, gesturing for him to join.
As they opened their lunch boxes and started eating, Daiki looked around the table, a sudden wave of curiosity hitting him. “Hey, what are your future goals?”
Aoi rested her chin in her hands, a dreamy expression washing over her face. “I’ve always dreamed of becoming an archaeologist. I want to travel and discover dinosaur fossils!”
Daiki grinned, then turned his gaze. “What about you, Uta-chan?”
A heavy, quiet sadness settled over Uta for a split second, but she forced a small smile to clear it away. “I don’t really have one right now... What about you, Daiki-kun?”
“I want to become a Formula 1 racer and win every single Grand Prix!” Daiki declared, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
Sora gasped, completely impressed. “Sugoi, Daiki-kun! I will definitely come to see your races!”
“Arigatou, arigatou!” Daiki laughed, rubbing the back of his neck before pointing his chopsticks at Sora. “What about you, Sora-kun?”
Sora’s playful demeanor softened into something deeply sincere. He looked down at the guitar case resting against his desk. “I believe I can heal people with my music. So... I want to heal the world with my songs.”
The words struck Uta like a physical blow. The faint murmur of the classroom faded away, replaced by a sudden, confused ache in her chest.
He wants to heal people with music? Like I used to? She stared at him, her hands tightening around her chopsticks. No... it cannot be.
Suddenly, Uta’s grip failed. Her chopsticks dropped, clattering loudly against her desk as she stood up abruptly. The sudden movement drew startled looks from Sora, Aoi, and Daiki.
Forcing her voice to remain steady, she managed to choke out, “I’ll... use the restroom and come back in a few minutes.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and hurried out of the classroom. The moment she hit the hallway, the dam broke, and tears flooded her eyes. She practically ran down the corridor, rushing inside the quiet restroom to escape the eyes of her classmates.
Leaning against the wall, she began sobbing, completely consumed by the crushing weight of her guilt. The past she tried so hard to bury rushed back all at once, suffocating her.
Okaa-san... Okaa-san... It’s all because of me. You died all because of me. You died because I didn’t play it properly. It’s all my fault.
