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Shuuichi doesn't pry into people's lives. He keeps his distance, holds his breath whenever he sees someone on the other side of the street and prays that they won't notice him; that they won't try to speak to him. It's nothing personal, nothing intentionally bad in the slightest, he just doesn't feel comfortable talking with strangers; and there's nothing malicious behind that, right?
It's something like this, when he's riding his bike and his hat has somehow shifted itself into a disgusting snapback that he sees a house with its door wide open. He stops out of curiosity.
The sound of music quietly makes itself known as he places a foot on the concrete street, looking over at the door in a quiet amazement.
It isn't your business,
he thinks.
You shouldn't be interfering,
he thinks.
He steps off of his bike, making sure it's standing steady, and then leaves it there and runs to the door.
He promises himself that he's just going to check to see if anyone's home, that he's just making sure that there's no robbers or anything and he's just doing what any good person would do, that he's not prying or anything because he's not that kind of person? Right?
Right.
Licking his lips nervously, he peers inside the doorway and gets a grand view of the residents hallway and their kitchen. In fact, he has the perfect view of the resident herself.
The music is something foreign, something that he barely recognizes, and from the way the person half-hums, half-mispronounces the lyrics, he can tell that she can't understand it herself. Her hair's all tied up in a messy bun, sweatpants tied up around her waist and simple white t-shirt framing her figure as she dances along.
"The stars burn a sparkle in your eyes, this game's no fun if there's no surprise."
The girl whips her hands around her head, fingers snapping along to the music and making pointing motions when Saihara assumes it’s appropriate. He knows English, but not nearly enough to be considered fluent - it’s more of a spattering that he’s picked up from Ouma, that he’s used to scrape by with a barely passing grade at school. Suddenly, he regrets all the times he’s ever procrastinated on studying English in favor of rereading another mystery novel.
The girl does a hip rotation, cracking her neck and moving her lips along to the words. She pumps her fists up into the air with no small amount of energy.
Someone else might've called it stupid, but Shuuichi thinks it's beautiful.
He's supposed to be closing the door, he reminds himself; he's supposed to be doing the responsible thing, to be covering for her.
She glances over, and their eyes make contact.
Saihara has never seen such beautiful eyes.
Sputtering, he begins to close the door, apologizing profusely and wishing he had never done this what the hell was he thinking, no wonder Ouma made fun of his flirting skills they were pathetic they were disgusting they were--
The girl grabs the other side of the door handle and pulls it back, causing Saihara to divert his eyes.
The music has stopped playing.
"U-uh," The girl clears her throat, "promise to keep it a secret?"
"Keep what a secret?"
The girl frowns. "You know, the fact that I was--" Shuuichi glances up simply to give her a sarcastic look. "Ooh, I get it." She snaps her fingers and winks. "Clever little thing you've got going on there."
"...thanks."
"So, what's your name?" She grins wildly and Shuuichi thinks his heart might burst. He curses his uncle for making fun of the fact that he wears all his emotions on his sleeve; way to make him even more self-conscious.
"I'm Saihara."
"Nice to meet you, Saihara!" A hand is stuck out. "The name is Kaede. I like your type."
"Pardon?"
"The type of people who don't snitch on others. Real appreciated."
"I know you're trying to be nice, but...your words hit me with a strong sense of sarcasm."
Kaede giggles. "You wound me." She tsks. "Hey, one of my students is going to come in soon - I teach piano, by the way - but can you shoot your email address my way? I wanna keep in touch." She crosses her fingers at this. "Gotta keep it tight, nowadays."
"O-oh! Alright." Saihara takes out his phone and hands it over to Kaede. "Just put yourself into my contacts. I'll send you a message when I get home."
"Thanks, love!" He's glad that she's concentrating, plugging the number in, because otherwise she'd see his beet red face. "Aaand there! All set, mister!" She hands him the phone and pats him firmly on the back. "Don't you dare go blurbing on social media that you saw a cute girl dancing around in her kitchen, alright? I've got an image to keep up."
"I wouldn't even think of it." Saihara pockets his phone like it's the most precious thing in the world. "I guess...I'll be seeing you around, then?"
"Of course! I wouldn't leave such a cute boy hanging." Kaede winks again, and Saihara turns away, pulling his hat over his eyes and trying to ignore how his face burns and burns and burns.
.
He spends nearly an hour trying to find the song later, hands anxiously shaking as he sounds out the foreign syllables. It takes long - a bit too long for his liking - but he gets it done, and soon the song is playing over his shitty laptop speakers.
Standing up nervously, he snaps his fingers along to the beat in an attempt to dance. The form in the mirror copies his every actions, and pretty soon, he forces himself to sit down from sheer embarrassment.
He looks at his phone, Kaede's contact information glaring up at him from the screen, daring him to do what he knows he doesn't deserve. He bites his lip and closes his eyes, letting one second pass by, another.
Saihara opens up a new email.