Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. His head was a tangled mess of sensations and fragments, refusing to quiet down no matter how many times he turned over or how tightly he closed his eyes. His thoughts circled endlessly back to Kla — the way his fingers had moved over the guitar, the strange heaviness in Tan's chest when he heard that melody, and that fleeting moment when their eyes met.

The dreams had been recurring for years, but something about last night had shifted. It was sharper now, more vivid. The water dragging him down had felt real enough to leave his skin clammy when he jolted awake. Yet the moment he tried to grasp it, it vanished like a wisp of smoke. Like trying to catch a feather already carried away by the wind.

Resigned, Tan sat up and reached for his guitar. If sleep refused to come, then maybe music could settle the storm in his mind. He strummed randomly at first, letting muscle memory guide his fingers. Chords bled into one another until his hands slowed, tracing a tune he didn't know — but that somehow knew him. He hummed along softly, following a trail he couldn't quite see, his mind half-submerged in a memory that wasn't entirely his.

By the time dawn crept into the room through the gaps in his curtains, the strings under his fingertips were warm from use and his eyes stung with fatigue.

---

"You look like crap, my friend," Yu said brightly when Tan walked into the practice room later that day at four. His grin was wide, but his brows drew together in concern. "Didn't sleep again?"

Tan dropped his bag near the sofa and offered a half-hearted grunt in response. His body ached with the weight of sleeplessness, and his mind wasn't faring much better.

He nodded while rubbing his tired eyes. "Something like that."

Yu didn't press. He knew Tan's sleep was often troubled, though he didn't know the reason for it. He respected his friend's privacy. "Well, caffeine exists for a reason. Where's Kla?"

"Said he had to meet with a professor," Yu replied, glancing at his phone. "He'll be here soon."

Tan nodded again, more to himself than to Yu. He leaned back on the sofa beside the window, his fingers drifting along the frets absentmindedly.

It wasn't long before the door creaked open and Kla stepped inside, his usual quiet presence trailing behind him like a breeze.

"Sorry for being late," he said, voice soft but steady.

"It's alright," Yu beamed, tossing his phone aside. "I promise I won't ditch you guys today. Cross my heart." He made a dramatic X across his chest before glancing at Tan with a sheepish look.

"You better mean that," Tan muttered, half-smiling despite himself.

"I'm wounded by your lack of faith," Yu sighed, hand to his heart. "Anyway, shall we begin?"

As they set up their instruments, Tan observed Kla carefully. There was a subtle shift in his demeanor today. He wasn't exactly open, but he didn't seem as closed off either. When Yu joked about being more punctual than a clock, Kla's lips twitched, almost like he was suppressing a smile.

Progress, Tan thought.

"Can you play the melody from yesterday again?" Yu asked, bouncing slightly on his heels. "Please? It's been stuck in my head all day."

Kla hesitated, glancing between the two of them.

"You don't have to," Tan said quickly, not wanting him to feel pressured. "Only if you want to."

After a moment, Kla nodded and picked up the guitar.

The room fell into silence as the first notes filled the air.

It was haunting, just like before. A melody that seemed to carry the weight of something lost and something longing to be remembered. Tan felt it wrap around him like a current — gentle and cold and impossible to resist. His chest tightened, and he could almost hear the sound of distant bells. The scent of damp earth and frangipani drifted into his awareness, vivid and inexplicable.

But then Kla's playing faltered. He stopped abruptly, fingers hovering in the air.

"That's… all I remember," Kla said, brow slightly furrowed, as though frustrated with himself.

"It's beautiful," Yu said, blinking rapidly. "Seriously, where do you even get this stuff from?"

"I don't know," Kla said after a pause. "It just… came to me."

Tan didn't think. He simply reached for his guitar and began playing, continuing the melody where Kla had left off. It was like his hands moved on their own accord, guided by something deeper than memory. The chords poured out of him as if he'd always known them.

Kla's eyes widened in surprise, and then something like recognition passed over his face. He gave a tiny nod, and together, they picked up the song — each adding to it in turns, weaving it like a conversation that only they could understand.

By the time the final notes faded into silence, Yu looked like he might cry.

"I'm blessed," he said dramatically, wiping imaginary tears from his cheeks. "To be in the presence of such musical greatness."

"We didn't compose it together yesterday, if that's what you're thinking," Tan said, catching the suspicious look Yu threw at them.

"You mean you two didn't plan that?" Yu asked incredulously. "Because that was freakishly in sync."

They both shook their heads.

"Well then, either you're lying to me, or you're secretly the reincarnations of some famous music duo," Yu muttered, clearly not buying it. "Whatever. Be that way. Don't tell me anything."

Despite the teasing tone, Tan noticed Yu fiddling with his phone, his usual ease just a little bit forced.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Me? Of course," Yu said too quickly. "I'm just trying to think of a good name for this masterpiece you two just pulled out of thin air."

"What about…" Yu paused, eyes lighting up. "River Story?"

"It's not too bad," Kla said quietly, a rare flicker of amusement lighting his eyes.

Yu blinked, stunned into silence.

And then, the tips of his ears turned pink.

Tan frowned.

That smile should've been for me.

The thought came unbidden, sharp and irrational, but it jolted something in Tan. He looked away, unnerved by his own reaction.

Yu's phone buzzed, and he glanced at it. His expression shifted.

"Uhh… So. Tiny problem," he said with an apologetic wince. "There's a last-minute meeting with the council. Something about the event prep. They want me there now."

Tan gave him a look.

"I swear I'm not ditching on purpose," Yu said, hands raised defensively. "We'll reschedule?"

Kla stood, brushing invisible lint from his jeans. "I should get going too."

Yu glanced between the two of them. "Tan, are you staying?"

"I'll lock up," Tan replied.

"Cool. See you guys tomorrow!"

With a wave, Yu disappeared through the door.

Tan remained on the sofa as the soft orange light of the sunset bathed the room. He sat still for a long while, letting the silence sink in. Then, slowly, he picked up the guitar again and began to play.

The melody returned — half-remembered and half-felt. A voice in the distance. A laugh like bells. The scent of frangipani in the wind. A hand reaching out to him. Sorrow, deep and sharp as a knife.

A tear slipped down his cheek, landing on the wood of the guitar.

He closed his eyes, his breath uneven.

Somewhere between the notes and the silence, something forgotten stirred awake.