The Forgotten Composer

Part 3

As Itsuki and Aimi strolled through the winding paths of Sylvan Melody, the villagers went about their daily routines, but many cast curious glances towards Itsuki. He noticed their subtle looks of interest – some were fleeting, others lingered longer.

A group of children playing near one of the streams stopped their game to stare openly at him, their eyes wide with wonder. They whispered among themselves, their gaze following Itsuki as he passed by.

"Why's everyone looking at me like that?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly puzzled by the attention.

Aimi glanced at him with a small, knowing smile. "Well, it's your clothes," she explained. "They're... different."

Itsuki looked down at his attire, suddenly conscious of the differences. He was wearing what was typical for a young man in Tokyo – a simple, graphic t-shirt paired with jeans, and casual sneakers. His clothes were modern, urban, and sharply contrasted with the natural, earthy tones and materials of the villagers' garments.

In comparison, Aimi's dress was a harmony of the forest itself. Made from woven fabrics that mirrored the hues of the woods, it flowed gracefully around her, blending seamlessly with the environment. Her dress was adorned with subtle patterns that mimicked the leaves and flowers of the forest.

Around them, the villagers wore clothes made from natural fibers like cotton and linen, dyed with pigments extracted from plants and berries. Their clothes were functional yet beautiful, with a style that was both timeless and perfectly suited to their surroundings. Embroidered details and woven accessories added personal touches, reflecting each individual's inner feelings.

Itsuki nodded in understanding, feeling a bit like an exotic bird amidst a flock of harmonious sparrows.

Aimi led Itsuki through the meandering paths of Sylvan Melody, eventually arriving at a quaint house nestled amongst a grove of tall, whispering trees. The house, like the others in the village, blended seamlessly with its natural surroundings, its walls made of interwoven branches and its roof covered in a lush green canopy.

"This is my home," Aimi said, a note of pride in her voice as she gestured towards the house. Its windows were open, inviting the gentle forest breeze, and the sound of a distant bird song filled the air.

As Itsuki stepped towards Aimi's home, a wave of nervousness washed over him. The cultural norms of his world echoed in his mind, reminding him of the usual boundaries and etiquettes when it came to entering a girl's home, especially one he had just met. The house was cozy and welcoming, yet Itsuki couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was intruding into a personal space, a private sanctuary not usually shared with strangers. He stood awkwardly just inside the doorway, his hands fidgeting at his sides, acutely aware of every small movement he made.

Aimi watched Itsuki's hesitant movements with a hint of confusion. His apprehension at simply entering her home seemed unusual to her. In Sylvan Melody, homes were often seen as extensions of the community, places where neighbors and friends were always welcomed with open arms. The concept of a visitor being nervous about crossing the threshold of another's dwelling was foreign to her.

"Is everything alright?" Aimi asked, her head tilting in concern. "You seem... uneasy. Is it not common to visit others' homes where you're from?"

Itsuki shuffled his feet, his voice tinged with a nervous edge. "Ah, well, it's just that I haven't really been invited to a girl's home before. Not even Yuna's, and she's a close friend and bandmate," he explained, his cheeks coloring slightly at the admission.

Aimi blinked, clearly not understanding the reservation that Itsuki held.

"Yuna?" Aimi echoed, her eyebrows rising in curiosity. "Is she someone special to you?" Aimi asked, her tone gentle yet inquisitive.