"Baby baby baby ohh~"
"Hahah!"
"You said you wouldn't laugh." Kaito lowered the mic and looked at her.
Hana had both hands over her mouth. Her shoulders were shaking.
Tears were forming at the corners of her eyes.
"I'm sorry." She pressed her lips together hard. The corners kept pulling up anyway. "I'm sorry, keep going."
"I'm not going to keep going."
"No, please. I want to hear the rest."
"You are literally crying."
"These are happy tears." She wiped one away with the back of her hand. "Keep going. I mean it."
He looked at the screen.
The lyrics were still scrolling.
The backing track continued without him, bright and completely unbothered.
The little bouncing ball moved from word to word.
He looked at the mic in his hand.
He looked at Hana, who had pressed both palms flat over her face and whose shoulders had not stopped moving.
He put the mic down on the table.
"I'm done."
"Kaito—"
"I'm done."
He dropped into the seat across from her and crossed his arms.
She lasted four more seconds before the laugh came out properly.
Short, real and entirely at his expense, and then she couldn't stop.
She laughed until she had to put her head down on the table. He watched the top of her head shake.
It took a while.
"Okay," she said finally, sitting up, eyes red at the corners, cheeks flushed.
"Okay. I'm done. Your turn is done. I'm sorry."
"Thank you."
"I really am sorry."
"You are not."
She pressed her lips together.
"No," she agreed. "I'm really not."
"But." She picked up her mic. "Duet. You agreed."
"I agreed before I knew how this would go."
"You agreed. It counts." She was already scrolling through the song list, chin down, a smile she was trying to flatten still visible at the corner of her mouth.
"I'll pick something easy."
She did not pick something easy.
It was a pop duet, fast and upbeat, the kind where both parts came in quick succession and neither singer had time to recover between lines.
She handed him the second mic and stood. He stood too. Sitting somehow felt worse.
The music started.
Hana began to sing.
Her voice was clear, perfectly on pitch, completely at ease with the melody. She moved through the first verse without hesitation, each note landing exactly where it should. Her posture stayed relaxed, open.
Kaito watched her for a second too long, then looked at the screen as his part came up.
He opened his mouth.
He tried.
She lasted eight seconds.
He counted.
Eight full seconds with her eyes fixed on the screen, shoulders stiff, face carefully neutral.
Then she turned away from him.
Her body shook once, completely silent, and she turned back.
He kept going.
He had committed.
He was finishing this.
By the chorus, she had stopped trying.
She sang her lines at full voice, smooth and effortless, then laughed through his, barely holding it together before snapping back in time for hers again.
Back and forth, the entire song.
Her half beautiful, his half a mess, the gap between them so obvious that even the scoring machine seemed to give up on his parts entirely.
He aimed for the last note.
She broke first.
She burst out laughing before he could reach it.
He held the note anyway.
He held it until the music ended.
Then he lowered the mic, set it on the table, and sat back down. He crossed his arms and stared at the wall.
"You did amazing," she said, still trying to catch her breath.
"You are a bad person."
"You were so good."
"I want to leave."
"Kaito." She grabbed his arm before he could reach for his bag.
Her eyes were wet again, bright, her whole face open and warm.
"That was genuinely the most fun I've had in weeks." She gave his arm a small shake. "Thank you. I mean it."
He looked at her. She was completely unrepentant and also completely sincere and both of those things were true at the same time.
He uncrossed his arms.
"You're still a bad person," he said.
"Completely," she agreed. "Let's go again."
.
Outside the evening had come in while they weren't paying attention.
The streets were busier than before, the after-university crowd mixing with the early after-work one.
The karaoke place sat three streets from campus and the metro station was two more after that.
They walked without hurrying.
Hana was still smiling.
The corners of her eyes still slightly crinkled.
"How are you so bad at singing?" she asked.
He looked at the pavement for a moment. "I never sang growing up." He adjusted his bag strap.
"Strict household. No music." He paused. "At most I used to watch BooTube secretly on my mom's phone."
Hana glanced at him. Her chin dropped slightly. Her eyes went quiet. "Sounds like a rough childhood."
"Kind of," he said.
They walked a few more steps without talking.
"Your voice is good though," she said. "With some practice you could be a good singer."
He looked at her. One corner of her mouth was pulled in. Her lips pressed together. Her eyes were completely steady on his.
"You're being sarcastic," he said.
She laughed.
"Maybe not a good singer. But your voice is fine to hear. Without cringing. Mostly."
He made a face. He was aware of making it and couldn't stop.
"Don't be sad." She bumped his shoulder with hers as they walked. "You tried. That's what matters."
He said nothing. He was still making the face.
She looked at him sideways and smiled.