Metal is lady's elegance

I had always imagined an ojousama's room to be elegant. Perhaps a grand piano. Antique furniture. Delicate porcelain. Everything perfectly arranged beneath a crystal chandelier. So when she opened the door, I wasn't prepared for what I saw. The elegant young lady standing before me was exactly as expected—long blonde drill curls, an elaborate dark blue dress, white lace, and the expression of someone who had just been caught doing something she desperately wanted to keep secret. But behind her? Darkness. Heavy-metal posters covered the walls. Music magazines were scattered everywhere. Cables crawled across the floor, and an electric guitar leaned against an amplifier beside an unmade bed. Then I noticed the headphones. And the microphone. And the laptop displaying a video call. She had been in the middle of an online jam session. There was a long, awkward silence. “…You weren't supposed to see this.” Her cheeks turned bright red. I glanced past her. “You play electric guitar?” She looked away. “Yes.” “Metal?” “…Yes.” “You've been playing with those people online?” Another tiny nod. Then, from the laptop behind her, someone called out: “Hey! Where'd our guitarist go?” She immediately panicked. “I'm coming back!” She grabbed the guitar from beside the amplifier, then stopped and looked at me. “Please don't tell anyone about this.” I smiled. “I won't.” She relaxed. Then she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “You're still staring at my room.” “Well…” I looked at the posters again. “…I just never expected the ojousama to be a metalhead.” She sighed, covered her face with one hand, and muttered: “Everyone has hobbies…” Then she hurried back into her wonderfully messy secret world and closed the door halfway. From inside came the unmistakable sound of an electric guitar roaring back to life.