Chapter 2

The morning sun sliced through the narrow gap in Aiko’s curtains, painting a golden stripe across her cluttered desk. Her headphones lay discarded among sheets of scribbled music notes and empty coffee cups, a testament to another sleepless night spent chasing melodies. Ever since she’d discovered her strange ability to hear the “heartbeat frequency” of those around her—a pulsing rhythm that bared their rawest emotions—she hadn’t known peace. Each sound was a window into a soul, often too heavy to bear. Grief sounded like a slow, mournful drum. Joy, a rapid, skipping beat. And anger? A jagged, relentless thrum that made her chest ache.

But Kaito, her new neighbor, was a void. No frequency, no rhythm, no glimpse into his heart. Just silence. It unnerved her more than the cacophony of strangers’ emotions ever could.

Aiko rubbed her tired eyes and shuffled to the kitchen, her oversized sweater dragging over the hardwood floor. She needed tea, or maybe courage, before facing the day. Last night, she’d nearly knocked on Kaito’s door after hearing a muffled shout from his apartment. She’d stood there, hand raised, heart pounding, but the silence that followed had frozen her in place. What could she even say? “Hey, I can’t hear your emotional frequency, and it’s driving me crazy. Care to explain?” She snorted at the thought, pouring hot water over a tea bag.

A sharp knock at her door jolted her from her reverie. The mug nearly slipped from her hands as she spun around, splashing tea onto the counter. Her pulse quickened—not just from the surprise, but from the sudden flood of a familiar, anxious rhythm. It wasn’t Kaito. She could hear this person’s frequency loud and clear: a fluttering, uneven beat, tinged with desperation.

“Aiko? You in there?” The voice was muffled but unmistakable. Hana, her childhood friend and self-appointed manager, sounded on edge.

Aiko wiped her hands on her sweater and opened the door. Hana stood there, her pink-streaked hair a wild mess, her eyes wide with urgency. The frequency around her buzzed like a swarm of bees, vibrating with worry. “You look like hell,” Hana said, pushing past her without waiting for an invitation. “Have you even slept? And don’t lie to me—I can tell.”

Aiko forced a smile, shutting the door. “I’m fine. Just… working on a track. What’s got you so worked up?”

Hana dropped her bag on the couch and spun to face her, hands on hips. “I got a call from Vortex Studios. They want a demo by next week. Next. Week. Aiko, this is huge! If they like your stuff, you’re in. Like, big-time in. But you’ve got to deliver.”

Aiko’s stomach twisted. She hadn’t told Hana about her ability—or the way it drowned her creativity in a sea of other people’s emotions. Every time she tried to compose, she’d hear the frequencies of passersby outside her window, each one pulling her focus in a different direction. “I… I’ll get it done,” she mumbled, avoiding Hana’s piercing gaze.

Hana’s frequency softened for a moment, a slower, warmer pulse. Concern. “Hey, I know you’re a genius, but you don’t have to do this alone. Let me help. Or at least talk to me. You’ve been shutting everyone out lately.”

Before Aiko could respond, a loud thud echoed from the wall separating her apartment from Kaito’s. Both women froze, their eyes darting toward the sound. Hana raised an eyebrow. “New neighbor again? What’s his deal?”

Aiko’s throat tightened. “I don’t know. He’s… quiet. Mostly.”

Hana smirked, her frequency spiking with mischief. “Quiet, huh? Maybe I should go say hi. See if he’s cute.”

“No!” Aiko’s voice came out sharper than intended, and she winced. “I mean… just leave him alone. He’s probably busy.”

Hana studied her for a long moment, her smirk fading into something softer, more knowing. “Alright, fine. But you’re acting weird, and I’m gonna figure out why.” She grabbed her bag and headed for the door. “Get that demo started, okay? I’ll check in tomorrow.”

As the door clicked shut, Aiko let out a shaky breath. Hana’s frequency lingered in the air for a moment, a fading hum, before it was swallowed by the quiet. But the silence didn’t last. Another sound—a low, rhythmic tapping—came from Kaito’s side of the wall. Not a frequency. Just… something ordinary. Maybe a hammer? Or a foot against the floor?

Curiosity burned through her hesitation. She pressed her ear against the wall, her breath shallow. The tapping stopped, replaced by the faint creak of a door opening. Then, footsteps. Heavy, deliberate. Heading toward her door.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she stumbled back, nearly tripping over a stray cable on the floor. A knock came, softer than Hana’s but no less startling. “Aiko? It’s Kaito. You got a minute?”

His voice was low, rough around the edges, like he’d just woken up. Or hadn’t slept at all. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob. What did he want? And why couldn’t she hear anything from him—not even a whisper of emotion?

Swallowing her nerves, she opened the door. Kaito stood there, leaning casually against the frame, his dark hair falling into his eyes. He wore a faded black hoodie and jeans, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Up close, she noticed the faint shadows under his eyes, the tension in his jaw. But still, no frequency. Just an empty space where a heartbeat should have been.

“Hey,” he said, his gaze flicking over her disheveled appearance before settling on her face. “I, uh, heard you talking to someone just now. Thin walls, y’know? Didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but… you sound stressed. Everything okay?”

Aiko blinked, caught off guard by the concern in his tone. “I’m fine. Just… work stuff. Deadlines.”

He nodded slowly, as if weighing her words. “Yeah. I get that. I’m kind of in a creative rut myself.” He shifted, pulling one hand from his pocket to rub the back of his neck. “Anyway, I found this in the hallway. Thought it might be yours.” He held out a small notebook—her notebook, filled with half-finished lyrics and scribbled thoughts about her ability. Her blood ran cold.

“Th-thanks,” she stammered, snatching it from his hand. Her fingers brushed against his, and for a fleeting second, she swore she felt… something. Not a frequency, but a warmth, a spark that sent a shiver down her spine. She jerked her hand back, clutching the notebook to her chest.

Kaito’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. “No problem. Hey, if you ever need a break from those deadlines, I’ve got a pretty killer vinyl collection. Music’s a good escape, right?”

Aiko forced a smile, her mind racing. “Maybe. I’ll… think about it.”

He gave a small, crooked grin, the kind that made her stomach flip despite herself. “Cool. See you around, Aiko.”

As he turned to leave, she watched him go, her grip on the notebook tightening. That spark—had she imagined it? Or was there something about Kaito, something hidden beneath his unreadable silence, that her ability couldn’t touch?

She shut the door and leaned against it, her heart pounding in her chest. For the first time, she wasn’t sure if the racing beat was her own—or if, somehow, she’d finally caught a glimpse of his. Whatever it was, she knew one thing for certain: Kaito was a mystery she couldn’t ignore. And she was determined to unravel it, no matter the cost.