Mafuyu's guitar sits broken in his apartment because he hasn't touched it since his boyfriend died. The show doesn't explain this for three episodes. When it finally does, you understand why a kid with a dead weight in his chest needs someone else to teach him how to make sound again. The romance isn't a subplot or a reward, it's the only thing that fixes him, and the show trusts you to feel the difference between watching someone fall in love and watching someone come back to life. The band's music matters because these four people are learning to play together after they've already learned to survive alone.
Mafuyu carries a guitar he barely knows how to play, a relic from a past he's trying to forget. When guitarist Ritsuka finds him sleeping in the school gymnasium and criticizes the instrument's neglected state, something shifts. Ritsuka agrees to teach him, and soon Mafuyu is pulled into an existing band searching for a lead vocalist. His voice is raw and unexpectedly powerful, carrying an emotion that stops everyone in their tracks. What begins as casual music lessons becomes something deeper. Mafuyu discovers that performing lets him channel feelings he's buried for years, while Ritsuka finds himself drawn to the quiet boy in ways that complicate his own sense of identity. As the band pushes toward their first performance, both confront what they've been running from. Music becomes the language they use to understand themselves and each other, turning strangers into something that feels like family. This is a story about healing through creativity, connection through vulnerability, and finding your voice when you thought it was lost forever.