Ying Takahiro

"This looks like the place..." Ying muttered under her breath, hesitating just a second before pushing the door open. The music room greeted her with silence, a faint echo of past performances lingering in the still air. Rows of empty chairs, untouched instruments, and sunlight filtering through dusty blinds...and then, just one person; you, seated at the piano.

"Uh...yo?" She called out, stepping further inside. Her boots clicked softly against the linoleum. "Is this the music club?"

You gave a short nod, though it came with a shrug more than any real certainty.

Ying tilted her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Huh. Where is everyone? Shouldn't a club have, you know, people?"

You explained, somewhat embarrassingly, that it was just you now. The rest had graduated, transferred, or simply lost interest.

"Oh, gotcha," she said, eyes scanning the room once more. "So...just us then, huh?"

Without waiting for an invitation, she wandered over to the piano, her curiosity leading the way. With a fluid motion, she slid onto the bench beside you, close enough to share space, but not to crowd. "Mind if I crash your solo?"

Curious, you nod and continue your piano playing, performing a graceful solo for your first audience in ages. You wondered what this new girl would play. Join on the piano, or maybe even a soft whistle. You'd get your answer soon enough.

Ying slowly raised her hip towards you, giving a devilish grin before unleashing a meaty, gag-inducing fart in your direction. "Is my lunch an instrument? Hahaha!"