Her Song [Angel Beats One-Shot - Iwasawa x OC]

Oh my God, can't you idiots respect someone's space?!

It was around 9pm on a balmy Saturday night, and I was making my way through a crowded Tokyo footpath, or at least, I was trying to, but hordes of people were blocking my path. Whether they were arguing with the creepy old guy who had his head sticking out from a window of the 5th floor of the building above us, or they were trying to sell me some fish I didn't want or need, or even if they were trying to figure out who stole their bike, they were there.

And my mood wasn't improving until they weren't.

"Excuse me," I muttered when I nearly ran into a boy more focused on his Game Boy than where he was actually walking. "Sorry!" I said as I brushed past an old woman standing arguing with a policeman over how she had parked her car in the street.

Finally, I found a small back alley to sneak my way into. I sat back against the wall of a building. The walls had cracks and the paint was peeling badly, but at least I had a chance to catch my breath again.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

In this city, even that took all the effort your body could find.

I slowly rose from the ground. Two drunk men had gotten outside and were laughing with all their stomach over something I couldn't make out. Then they pointed in my direction and yelled at the top of their lungs.

Out of curiosity more than anything else, I cautiously moved towards them, but the closer I got, the more hideous the smell of alcohol and tobacco became. Thankfully, by the time I had gotten anywhere near them something else entirely had caught my attention.

The full, rich sound of an acoustic guitar had leaked out from the bar the two men had just left, echoing between the walls and bouncing its way down the alleyway into my ears, wafting in like the smell of a neighour's apple pie. I honestly tried to resist going in, but, soon enough, the beautiful timbre had me wholly under its spell.

I walked slowly down a few stairs to the bar. The room itself had the same faint scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke that I had smelt outside. The roof was so low that I almost had to duck to stand up, and the lights hung another few inches lower again. The walls and floor were plain concrete, with only a green carpet thrown sloppily down to save the entire room from complete dreariness. In one corner was the bar itself, with a few men sipping on drinks as they chatted amongst themselves, and in the other corner was an open doorway.

That was where the sound was coming from.

I pulled out a stool and ordered a drink, and once the bartender had served it, I left before someone could start a conversation with me.

I carried my drink through the doorway, and down another small step into a room that was set up sort of like a restaurant, except it was nowhere near as classy. It was basically the same as the last room, except with rows of empty tables flooding one side, and on the other a small stage with speakers on each side, and in the middle, a girl around my age with pink and black hair was seated on a stool strumming through a chord progression.

She was the one playing the music.

She glanced quickly to me and flashed a smile as she rearranged her fingers on the fretboard and gave a light strum, playing a smooth, gentle A minor. She gave a light flick of her hair and took a breath, ready to start singing into the microphone.

She opened her mouth, and didn't just project project her voice into the microphone, she projected her entire being. She didn't just play the music, she became completely absorbed by it. She barely even took notice of me, the only other person in the room watching her, but did that matter to her? You bet it didn't. Her voice was thick and heavy from the emotion she poured into it, as if she wasn't just singing, but she was crying out for someone. For me? I couldn't be sure, but I did for sure noticed my cheeks getting warm when she glanced at me with a small smile on her face.