Elara sat on a wooden chair close to the wall in the music room, her hands resting on her knees. The lights were dim, only a few lamps were on. Lyra stood at the center of the room, holding the microphone with both hands. Her shoulders were stiff, and her feet kept shifting on the floor.
Lyra cleared her throat.
"I'll start again," she said, even before anyone told her to.
Elara smiled faintly. "Take your time."
Lyra nodded and began to sing.
Her voice was not bad. It was not good either. It wavered, sometimes going off key, sometimes missing the emotion completely. There were moments where Lyra's voice almost found the right place, then slipped away again.
Elara listened carefully.
She knew the truth. Lyra was not suited for singing competitions. Not like this. Not against people like Livienne. But Elara did not say anything. She did not frown. She did not sigh.
She only listened.
When Lyra finished, she let out a long breath and laughed awkwardly. "That was… bad, right?"
Elara shook her head immediately. "It wasn't bad. You were nervous. That's all."
Lyra looked at her, clearly not believing it, but she still smiled a little. "You're always too kind."
Lyra stepped aside and sat on the floor, leaning against the piano. She looked tired, but also relieved, as if putting the song out had lifted something off her chest.
"Your turn," Lyra said. "You haven't practiced out loud today."
Elara hesitated.
This song… she had not sung it in front of anyone before. Not in this life. Not even in her past life. She wrote it back then, in a tiny room, with the window cracked open and rain tapping on the sill. She never thought anyone would hear it.
But now, she stood up.
"I'll try," Elara said softly.
She stepped into the center of the room. There was no microphone this time. She did not need one. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and began to sing.
Her voice flowed out slowly.
It was not loud. It was not flashy. But it was steady.
The song felt quiet, like a confession whispered at night. It carried loneliness, pain, and something gentle hiding underneath. The kind of feeling that did not beg for attention, but still refused to be ignored.
Lyra stopped breathing.
Her eyes widened little by little, and before she knew it, her vision blurred. She did not even notice the tears gathering.
When Elara finished, the room stayed silent.
Lyra swallowed hard. "That… that song," she said slowly. "Who sang it?"
Elara did not answer immediately.
She looked at the floor, then at the window, then finally at Lyra. "I did."
Lyra froze. "You… wrote it?"
Elara nodded.
Lyra stood up so fast she almost tripped. "Sing it again," she said quickly. "Please."
She rushed to the piano and sat down, her fingers hovering over the keys. "I'll follow you."
Elara hesitated, then nodded again.
She started singing.
At first, the piano sounded simple. Soft notes, careful and slow. But when the song reached its middle, something changed.
Lyra's fingers moved faster.
The sound grew deeper, fuller, like the song had suddenly found its other half. Elara's eyes widened. Her voice almost faltered, not because she was weak, but because she was shocked.
She stopped singing.
She turned to Lyra. "Wait."
Lyra looked up, confused. "What? Did I mess up?"
Elara stared at her like she had just seen something impossible. "Why didn't you ever raise your hand when they asked for someone to play piano during training?"
Lyra blinked. "Huh?"
"You play like this," Elara said slowly. "And you never said anything?"
Lyra shrugged, embarrassed. "I thought I was just average."
Elara shook her head. "That wasn't average."
Lyra laughed awkwardly. "You're exaggerating."
"I'm not," Elara said firmly.
She walked closer. "Who taught you?"
"My mom," Lyra said. "Since I was little. She said it was a good skill to have. I never thought it was special."
Elara stared at her.
Then she said quietly, "You're better than most pianists I've heard."
Lyra waved her hand quickly. "No way."
"Lyra," Elara said seriously. "Why don't you choose piano instead of singing for Starhunt?"
Lyra's smile faded.
"I want to sing," she said softly. "I've always wanted to."
Elara's heart tightened.
She remembered the future. Lyra giving up. Lyra returning to Burou. Lyra never touching music again.
Elara took a deep breath. "Then… why not both?"
Lyra looked up. "Both?"
"You can apply for singing," Elara said. "And piano. You don't have to choose only one."
Lyra stared at the piano keys for a long time.
"…I never thought of that," she said quietly.
Elara smiled. "That's why I'm telling you now." ...
–
The hallway of the training school was quiet and empty.
Most of the trainees had already gone to the training room. Mrs. Elopee had gathered them early that morning to check their progress. Tonight was the competition. No one wanted to be late. No one wanted to look careless.
Kioyothe stood by the corner near the stairs, her back resting lightly against the wall.
Her face was calm.
Her eyes moved slowly, watching the hallway, counting footsteps, listening to doors closing far away. In her right hand, hidden by the fold of her sleeve, was a thin pin. Cold. Sharp.
She pushed herself away from the wall and began to walk.
Her steps were quiet. Not rushed. She moved like someone who had every reason to be walking through the dorms that morning.
When she reached Elara's room, she stopped.
The door was slightly open.
Kioyothe paused, then smiled.
"So careless," she thought. More easier for her to get things done quickly.
She gently pushed the door open and slipped inside. The room smelled faintly of soap and fabric. She reached back and closed the door slowly, making sure it made no sound, then turned the lock.
Click.
She stood still for a moment, listening. Nothing. No footsteps. No voices.
Her eyes swept the room casually, as if she were only looking around out of boredom. Near the bed, placed carefully by the side, was a box.
Kioyothe's gaze lingered there.
She walked closer and opened it.
Inside were a few makeup items, simple and clean. Two pairs of shoes. Some small necessities. And then… two dresses.
Kioyothe picked one up and examined it.
It doesn't look expensive. Not flashy at all.
She snorted softly. "So this is it?"
She looked at the second dress and laughed quietly in her throat. The second one was also simple. "This is what you planned to wear on stage?"
It was obvious to her. The clothes had been neatly arranged with the box, no other cloth was there. She walked to the closet and opened it,it was filled with casual dresses. So it means this two dresses are what they planned to wear to the venue.
Kioyothe did not mind.
She would make sure they had nothing good to wear tonight.
She did not really have busy with Lyra. But Lyra's sharp tongue had annoyed her more than once. Teaching her a small lesson would not hurt.
Her lips curved into a smirk.
She reached into her pants and pulled out a small pair of scissors.
Carefully, she spread the dresses flat.
She did not cut the front. That would be too obvious. Instead, she cut along the inner seams. Small cuts. Neat cuts. Places that would not be noticed unless the dress was worn or lifted.
She cut near the side waist. Along the inner lining. A little at the back seam.
"Perfect," she thought.
If they opened the box just to take something out, they would not notice. And by the time they did, it would be too late.
She folded the dresses back neatly, exactly as they had been before, and placed them back inside the box.
Kioyothe straightened up and let out a small breath of satisfaction.
She walked back to the door and leaned in, peeping through the peephole. The hallway was empty.
She unlocked the door quietly, opened it, and stepped out.
With one last glance around, she closed the door behind her.
She did not lock it.
She walked away down the hallway as if nothing had happened at all...