Toaru Files

If 2

A Simple Song

Touma trudged through the dimly lit alleys of Academy City, his feet heavy with the weight of his own frustrations. He had just left a meeting with a group of higher-ups from the city's administration, and their condescending attitudes still lingered in his mind like a bad taste.

As he turned a corner, he spotted a small, rundown karaoke bar tucked away between two larger buildings. On a whim, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The bar was nearly empty, with only a handful of patrons scattered across the cramped space. Touma didn't care; he just wanted to drown his sorrows in music. He slapped down a few coins on the counter, grabbed a microphone, and selected a song from the machine.

The opening chords of "Hated by Life Itself" echoed through the bar, and Touma's voice rose in a raw, anguished crescendo:

"I'm hated by life itself... Every path I choose, every door I open... Leads to more pain, more suffering... Why must I always be the one to bear the weight?"

His voice cracked on the high notes, but he didn't care. He poured all his frustration, all his anger, into the song.

Unbeknownst to Touma, Kuroko Shirai had slipped into the bar a few minutes earlier, seeking refuge from her own troubles. She had been tracking a lead on a mysterious artifact, but it had led to a dead end. Now, she nursed a cup of coffee in the corner, her eyes scanning the room with a mixture of curiosity and melancholy.

As Touma's voice soared, Kuroko's gaze locked onto him. She recognized the song, of course - it was a favorite among the city's more... disillusioned youth. But there was something about Touma's performance that struck a chord within her.

His emotions were raw, honest, and unguarded. For a moment, Kuroko forgot about her own problems and simply listened.

As the song drew to a close, Touma's voice trailed off, and he stood there, panting, his eyes closed. The bar fell silent, with only the faint hum of the machines breaking the stillness.

Kuroko applauded softly, her eyes never leaving Touma's face. He opened his eyes, startled, and met her gaze.

For a fleeting instant, they connected on a deeper level - two outsiders, bound together by their shared experiences and frustrations.

Then, Touma's expression hardened, and he looked away, muttering, "Just a song."

Kuroko smiled wistfully and nodded, understanding. "Sometimes, that's all we need."

With that, she vanished into the night, leaving Touma to ponder the unexpected connection they had shared.