strings attached, k. tamon

un.

She stopped near the second-floor classrooms, where the setting sun spilled through the windows in streaks of orange and pink. Dust danced in the air like stage lights with nowhere to shine.

And then—she heard it.

Soft. Fragile. Tentative.

A boy's voice.

Singing.

It drifted down the corridor like smoke—warm and aching and imperfect in the most beautiful way. The kind of voice that cracked a little at the high notes, but not because it was weak. Because it was honest.

(Y/N)'s breath caught.

It wasn't polished. It wasn't performative.

The kind of sound that could pull the emptiness out of her chest, string by string.

She followed it slowly, heart thudding, palms suddenly sweaty. Her stomach flipped in a way it hadn't in years. There was something alive about that voice. Something raw and glowing like a spark under skin.

She reached the cracked classroom door and peeked in.

And there he was.

Alone.

He stood by the open window with a broom in hand, sweeping as he sang softly to himself. Not even loud enough to echo. Just... enough.

His face was flushed from exertion, and his dark hair stuck slightly to his temple. The sun hit him at just the right angle—like a painting that didn't know it was a masterpiece. His eyes were stupidly shiny, his frame a little hunched, like he was trying to shrink out of existence but it was nothing but a stupid attempt since he was ridiculously tall.

He didn't notice her at first. Too caught up in whatever he's doing.

But the moment she gasped, the broom hit the floor with a loud CLACK.

Tamon spun around like he'd been shot. Their eyes met.

And (Y/N), brimming with delight and disbelief, exploded into the room.

"YOU."

Tamon flinched.

"You're the one who was singing. Just now. That was you, right?!"

"I-I-uhm-" Tamon backed away, blinking rapidly like he was searching for an escape route. "That-I didn't-uh-"

"I've been looking for you, you magical mystery boy!" she shouted, dramatic and radiant. "You don't get to just drop a voice like that and disappear!"

"I—I wasn't—singing—it was just-"

She slammed her hands on his desk and leaned in close, eyes wild. "You. Are. Amazing."

He staggered back, hit the chalkboard, and made a horrible gurgling noise.

"Are you okay?" she blinked, leaning closer.

Tamon turned bright red, pressed both hands to his mouth, and gagged.

"W—Why are y—you this close-?! I—I can't—breathe-!"

"Don't pass out on me yet, superstar!" Y/N tilted her head and smiled. "We haven't even started the duet."

Tamon let out something between a squeak and a sob.

She reached out, playful, like a cat toying with a string. "Do you always sing when you clean? Or were you trying to summon a goddess with that voice, because congrats-you got me."

"W-What?!"

"You have no idea what you just did to me," she said, half-laughing. "My soul did a somersault. I got actual chills."

"I—I wasn't trying to—I d—didn't know  anyone was listening—!"

"Well, I was, and now you're cursed with my attention."

Tamon whimpered and covered his face.

She stepped closer and grinned.

"I'm (Y/N). Guitarist. Passionate. Desperate. Slightly unstable when it comes to music." She poked his forehead lightly. "And you're the answer to all my musical prayers!"

"W—Why—why are you like this-?!"

"Because I've been looking for something real! And you just handed it to me by accident." Her voice softened. "That voice... it's amazing! Something I didn't know I was missing until now!"

Tamon peeked through his fingers, visibly trembling. And... gagging?

"P-Please stop looking at me..."

"Not a chance."

"I'm gonna throw up."

She giggled. "That's okay. Just sing first."

Tamon actually gagged again and bolted toward the hallway like his life depended on it.

(Y/N) watched him go, her heart pounding-not with embarrassment, but adrenaline. It wasn't love. (Not yet.) But it was something.

Something big.

She glanced down the hallway where he disappeared, lips curling into a smirk.

"Found you."