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[h3][b][i][color=FF7FC9]April 26th, 2025. [/color][/i][/b][/h3]
[b][color=FF7FC9]Mentions: -[/color][/b][/center]

Another day, another practice session done. But this rate, Akira doubted that they'd be able to perform their piece in time for the school term's end. Some of the other instruments weren't smooth enough in the overall piece and their conductor, one of the third years, was trying his best, bless his heart. And the library was closed so she couldn't retire there to study for that damned history test that Miss Okamoto had set. Its due date was getting closer and closer and Akira was getting a little frazzled trying to balance practicing her part for the band club and cramming for the test.

Today felt different though. Something about the air or the atmosphere in the school was stranger than usual and she couldn't quite put her finger on why. Was it the quaint meeting she'd had with Sonoda and Hatto-sa- Hakuro yesterday? She hadn't seen most of the study group since their study and gaming session from earlier in the week. Asumi had left school pretty early, she knew Chen was somewhere in the library. As for Nagi, who knew? Last she'd seen of the headstrong youth was at cooking club, just before Akira had checked at the band room to see if they had practice.

So it was here on the school's roof that she found herself once again. Trumpet case at her feet, her lunchbox on her lap and her signature pink headphones on her head. She bobbed her head to the beat of an inaudible song, munching on a sandwich that she'd made herself for her mid-afternoon snack, something to keep her going while she practiced. As for the song she'd picked for her personal piece today, she'd once again returned to the land of old school jazz, picking a piece from one of the greats to challenge herself again. After all, playing something created by the best jazz trumpeters of the 20th century was going to be difficult for a teenager like herself to master.

Once Akira was done with her sandwich, she took her headphones off and hooked them around her neck, standing up to stretch and roll her shoulders. Then she popped her case open, pulled her trumpet from it, put her headphones on and turned on the song she'd chosen. And soon, the strains of jazz trumpet echoed and flowed from the school's roof. An almost predictable part of anyone's day in Fujihama.

[center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H8GjJD826vc[/youtube][/center]