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She was playing the piano again.
It was another familiar piece, what was it…? Mozart, Debussy… no, Rachmaninoff. (Or was it Lizst? She couldn’t remember.) Her fingers moved nimbly across the keys, the melody she had heard so many times before reverberating in the space of the room, echoing faintly against the couch and the bean bag chairs in the corner. Sure, the acoustics had nothing on an actual concert hall, and the occasional sounds of clinking coffee cups and chattering punctuated the music, but nevertheless, her lips curled up into a small smile.
She wouldn’t have it any other way.
She concluded the piece on a soft, twinkling high note, and the moment she lifted her hands from the keyboard, she was met with a bout of scattered, yet passionate applause.
“As much as I hate to say it, that was actually, like, pretty awesome,” Kokichi said nonchalantly. “Welp, I still prefer Khachaturian though.” He grinned, then pulled a trombone from the back of the couch, using it to produce a loud and dramatic ‘WUOP!’.
“Hey, man, watch it! You hit my elbow with that damn slider of yours!” Kaito complained indignantly. “Besides, when the hell did you bring that thing in here anyway?”
“Nishishi, wouldn’t you like to know?” Kokichi teased, bonking Kaito over the head with the trombone slider.
“Kokichi, please cease this childish behaviour,” Kirumi scolded from her spot near the door before turning towards the piano with a kind smile. “That was as brilliant a performance as always. Well done.”
Most of the people in the room were similar to Kirumi in that they simply offered a few words of kind praise. As for Shuichi, he was leaning so far forward in his seat that he was on the verge of falling onto the carpet. The expression of childlike wonder on his face was… kind of endearing. She had a sudden urge to walk over and ruffle his hair.
“That was amazing!” he exclaimed, starry-eyed. “I wish I could play an instrument like that… You’re incredible, Kaede.”
Kaede. She was… of course she was. She really shouldn’t even have been surprised.
She mustered a smile for Shuichi to be polite, forcing out a ‘thank you’ in a voice sweeter and higher than what she was used to, a voice that she loved to hear every day but sounded so, so strange coming from her own vocal cords. The tension and vibrations were alien, unfamiliar. She felt her lips shape the words but barely registered herself speaking them. Was it her speaking them? Who was she?
She was trapped in this body, trapped in this situation where she didn’t belong with all this praise and laughter and conversation and cheerful smiles that didn’t belong to her. They never would.
Just then, Shuichi came up to her for a warm, friendly hug, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. It should have felt pleasant―a nice reward after her performance, surely―but as she gingerly put her hands around his waist, she only felt like she was about to suffocate. She could feel the weight of Shuichi’s body pressing against her chest―one that was too big; she felt the way Shuichi’s fingers ghosted the tips of her hair―hair that was far too short.
He let go after what could’ve been two seconds but also could’ve been an eternity, his smile giving way to concern.
“Kaede, is something wrong?” He put a hand on her shoulder, and all of a sudden she realized she was hyperventilating, her shoulders tense. She tried to suppress it, but to no avail as the air around her filled with worried murmurs. Her friends crowded around her and all of a sudden her vision was a blur of blue and purple and black and white and yellow and gray and she wanted to push it all away, wanted to scream-
Maki opened her eyes to a cream-coloured ceiling and pale pink walls. So that was a dream then, she thought to herself. She should’ve recognized that it was one, given that it had happened so many times before in almost exactly the same way, but perhaps life was just unkind when it decided that she wouldn’t have the luxury of remembering who she was whenever slumber lowered her consciousness into a room with a grand piano, even while watching her too-pale and too-smooth hands play on the keys in ways she shouldn’t have known how to. Not until someone in the dream told her and she got surprised all over again, at least. Dreams were like that. Unkind.
She hated that it was always the same, too―her, as Kaede, playing the piano for everyone. Sometimes it was their friends, sometimes it was a concert audience, sometimes it was hospital patients. It didn’t matter either way. People were largely all the same, Maki supposed. The important thing was the happiness that came upon their faces when the music was over. Kaede always managed to do that regardless of the occasion. It was almost like magic how effortlessly she could paint smiles out of thin air.
The fact that this scenario kept reappearing in Maki’s dreams (They weren’t exactly nightmares―perhaps it was life that was the real nightmare.) only served to remind her of the fact that she wasn’t Kaede. She wouldn't admit it if she was held at gunpoint, but she was jealous―jealous of Kaede’s ability to cheer someone up if they were feeling sad, or to fill those around her with joy. Sometimes, when Shuichi had panic attacks, one of Kaede’s soothing piano lullabies could bring him peace of mind.
Maki couldn’t do that. She didn’t have some musical or artistic talent that could weave stories from colours and notes. She didn’t have the natural charisma of Kaito, nor did she have the knack for jokes that Kokichi had. She couldn’t perform magic tricks to fill children’s hearts with wonder like Himiko. All she ever was―all she ever could be was someone who locked herself away, burdened by her experiences; someone who couldn’t bear to be loved because she had no love of her own to give; someone who was emptied of all hopes and dreams and was merely a hindrance to everyone else’s lives.
She wished she were someone different.
She hated that she had to rely on her dreams to give her that satisfaction.
And as a result she hated to dream, dreaded falling asleep and given false hope of who she could be but wasn’t, felt disgusted at herself for wanting to play a role she wasn’t suited for, all the while wishing that when the kind caricatures created by her subconsciousness opened their hazy mouths to speak it would be her name that touched their lips; her name that rang bright and clear into the air, tinged with love and admiration; her name that, upon being heard, brought delight and good spirits.
It was selfish of her, she knew, but the world was cruel and toyed with her feelings and despite having tried over and over again to the point where it hurt, she couldn’t stop hoping.
Suddenly, Maki felt something move next to her. Kaede must be stirring, she thought as the blanket shared between them rustled at their feet.
Really, she should have known better than to accept Kaede’s offer to share an apartment, even though she didn’t have the money to buy or rent one of her own. She’d cope. Maybe it was because she’d been having the same dreams for nearly three months now, but no matter what she tried, only Kaede’s presence could give her comfort in the mornings. The pianist was like a warm beam of sunlight that thawed Maki’s stone-cold heart, and Maki was eternally grateful to have her around, if not only for her signature encouraging hugs and sunny disposition that could lift her out of any sour mood.
It was so, so ironic that the same person who Maki had been friends with since high school―the same person Maki cared for so much that she would literally die protecting―also served as a constant reminder of how Maki wasn’t good enough for her friendship. Or anyone’s, really, but especially Kaede’s. How could Maki ever be good enough for such a selfless, optimistic person who seemed determined to believe in her no matter what? How could she possibly put herself at the same level as the person who encouraged everyone to be the best version of themselves and never judged anyone for their past?
Maki looked around at her surroundings: the soft, pearl-white pillow under her head, the sunlight streaming through the silky curtains, the fluffy carpet underfoot… the blonde-haired girl with rosy cheeks sleeping next to her. It felt like home, sure, but one she didn’t belong to, one she didn’t deserve. She knew it wasn’t healthy of her to be so attached to a relationship like this, as well as unfair of her to be so dependent on the pianist, but…
… She had nowhere else to go.
She frowned, balling her hands into fists at her sides. Kaede scooted closer to her, snuggling in whatever nonexistent warmth Maki had to offer.
“Mmm, good morning, Maki,” the blonde hummed sleepily, a lazy smile pulling at the corners of her lips.
“… Morning,” Maki replied quietly, not looking Kaede in the eye.
“Have you been awake for long? Did you sleep well?” Kaede asked as she stirred from her drowsy state.
The brunette only gave a noncommittal hum in return. After all, Kaede didn’t have to know. There was hardly a real problem anyway. They were just dreams, and they’d probably go away eventually, so why bother her friend with a problem there was no point in trying to solve?
More importantly, though, Maki couldn’t stand the thought of Kaede finding out that she was the subject of her friend’s anguish. The pianist would be hurt, surely, that she’d apparently been such a mental burden. Heartbroken, even. And then what? She’d probably think that Maki resented her (a reasonable assumption, though wildly incorrect), likely distance herself from the brunette forever, and their relationship would never be the same, all because Maki was a stupid, jealous excuse for a person who could never do anything right. Stupid, jealous. Useless.
“Hey, Maki…” The hand softly shaking her shoulder brought Maki back to the real world. She turned to see a frowning, worried-looking Kaede. “Are you okay? Did you have another bad dream?”
Seeing no point in lying, Maki simply nodded, adding that it wasn’t a big deal, and that the blonde need not worry.
Kaede, however, didn’t seem convinced as she pushed herself upright, back resting against her pillow. “These dreams have been going on for a pretty long time now, haven’t they?” She rested her right hand gently on Maki’s shoulder again in a gesture of reassurance.
“Look, I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, but these seem to be occurring way more often than they should.” Kaede looked into Maki’s eyes, then, and Maki couldn’t escape the care and concern that was evident in the pianist’s gaze. “I just- I just don’t want you to have to face your demons alone, Maki, no matter how insignificant they may seem.”
“I don’t dream about demons,” Maki replied with a bitter smirk, propping herself up to mirror Kaede’s sitting position. “I just… don’t think it’s something you’d want to hear about. So just leave it. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
The pianist reached out and gripped Maki’s hand with both of her own. “Maki, please,” she said sincerely, locking eyes with Maki’s crimson ones. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I’ll always be here for you no matter what. So please,” she tightened her grip on the brunette’s hand, “if you’re okay with it, just tell me. I promise I can handle it.”
Sure enough, she’s not giving up. Typical Kaede. Maki sighed in defeat. “It’s just…” she squeezed Kaede’s hand tighter, “sometimes I dream I’m playing the piano, for people. Doesn’t matter who. Friends, strangers, whatever. And… when I’m done, they’re always really happy. Clapping, cheering and whatnot. But then,” Maki furrowed her brow, “I’m always… you. As in, I’m Kaede Akamatsu. Playing the piano and making people smile like you always do, that you’ve always been able to do.”
She took a deep breath before continuing. “That I… can’t, which is probably what my subconscious is trying to make up for, I guess, that I’d have to steal your identity just to be able to make someone happy. I wasn’t made for happiness. I don’t- ” she hesitated, herself not knowing how accurately her words conveyed her tangled emotions, “want to be you, but… sometimes I think it would be easier, if I was. Because I’m useless the way I am, and I don’t want to be me, but… that’s just how it is.” Maki risked a glance upward, but immediately looked away again once she got a glimpse of Kaede’s plum-coloured eyes, fearful of what emotions might be showing through her gaze.
“… Sorry. For all of this.”
For the first two or three long seconds, nobody said anything. Then, Maki suddenly found herself being wrapped in a warm, comforting hug. “It’s okay, Maki,” Kaede’s voice sounded softly next to her ears. “Thanks for telling me. I really appreciate it.”
Oh.
Maki pulled away slightly to get a better look at Kaede’s expression. Tentatively, she searched for any traces of doubt, but all she could detect was sincerity.
“I don’t know what I could say that would convince you, but… you do make me happy, Maki!” There was a look in Kaede's eyes that Maki wasn’t sure whether to be saddened or comforted by. “Your sense of humour always makes me chuckle, and I love spending time with you! And heaven knows how many times I’ve bragged about a dish you taught me to make. You know I’d be hopeless in the kitchen without you.” Kaede grinned sheepishly at the thought, then continued.
“But there’s so much more to you than that. Before we became friends in high school, I didn’t really have that many friends. I act optimistic a lot of the time, but sometimes I worry about a lot of things, and… I love supporting other people and making other people happy, but I didn’t really have anyone I could tell my own worries to, so they could support me. But you’ve always been there for me, and you’re always so strong, even when you’ve had a difficult past. With you by my side, I feel like I can stand up to anything.”
Kaede grabbed both of Maki’s hands in her own this time, holding the other girl’s gaze firmly. “So you’re not useless, okay? I believe in you, so… you should believe it too,” the blonde added with a smile.
“Kaede…” Maki looked at her friend, not knowing what to say. In truth, she had never known that their friendship had made such a significant emotional impact on Kaede, too. Sure, Maki cared about Kaede a lot. She went to all of Kaede's performances, made the effort to make recipes that Kaede liked (Maki felt as if it’d be ungrateful of her if she didn’t make some meaningful contribution to the running of the the household) and tried to talk to her whenever she had a bad day. Get her back on her feet and all. But up till now, it had never occurred to her that those things actually had value outside of returning Kaede’s favours of friendship and encouragement. Surely it was a matter of equivalent exchange, rather than something to be appreciated.
Apparently, she’d been wrong.
“Oh, I know what might make you feel better!” Kaede’s voice cut through her thoughts again, this time cheerful and excited. Maki raised both eyebrows in question as Kaede stood up and signalled for her to do the same. “Come on, follow me.”
Maki wordlessly got up and followed Kaede down the hallway, and within two seconds she recognized where the pianist was leading them.
… Kaede’s practice room, which Maki hadn’t really visited before because of the dreams. There were shelves upon shelves of sheet music and CDs, with even more pieces of paper scattered across the floor. Every page Maki could see was filled with pencil markings indicating dynamics, tempo, emotion, and other little remarks.
But most stunning of all was the sleek black grand piano in the centre of the room. Maki didn’t know much about pianos, but she could tell just by its shiny, spotless surface and keys that it had been very well-maintained. At the same time, the signs of wear and tear on the pedals indicated just how much it was being used. Even so, bathed in the glowing rays of morning sunlight shining through the bay window, it looked almost angelic.
It was beautiful, and Maki couldn’t take her eyes off it.
She found herself being guided gently towards the piano stool. “Here, sit down!” Kaede said encouragingly as she sat down on the left side of the stool and patted the space next to her. Maki did so, gingerly lowering herself onto the leather seat. “Now you put your hands on the keys like this…” Kaede lifted Maki’s hands gently and rested them atop the black and white keys. They felt smooth, unfamiliar, the gaps between them strange and alien. “Now, pretend you’re holding a bubble in your hand, so the shape of your hand should be slightly round…”
Kaede kept instructing Maki on what to do as the brunette studied her expression. Even when talking about something so simple, Kaede seemed so passionate and dedicated. The warmth of Kaede’s hands as they carefully adjusted the positioning of her fingers and wrist seemed to come from a treasured place in her heart as well. Her love for music was truly amazing, Maki thought.
“Okay, perfect!” Kaede remarked, satisfied, as she lifted her hands off Maki’s more tentative ones. “From here, it’s easy―just press your fingers down on the keys, and you’ll be able to play notes!”
Careful not to distort the shape of her hand too much, Maki applied some pressure onto the ivory-coloured key where her thumb was resting, the one Kaede had said was ‘middle C’. Sure enough, a note rang out through the room, pure and clear. And even though it was just one note… it sounded ethereal, peaceful, bright and strong, all at once, somehow. It was like magic.
She, Maki Harukawa, had made music.
Over the next half hour, Maki followed along, transfixed, as Kaede taught her how to play a simple version of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. It was difficult at first, especially remembering which keys to press next, but Maki persevered, and by the end of it, if she really concentrated hard, she could just manage to play it all correctly without pausing in between beats.
“That was the best run we’ve had so far!” Kaede said as Maki finished playing the short piece again. Maki smiled a small smile, thoroughly satisfied―it’d been quite a repetitive thirty minutes, but it was also surprisingly fulfilling. She’d never thought she’d ever be able to play anything on the piano, and she was (as reluctant as she was to admit it) very proud of herself.
But more importantly, Maki noticed as she looked up from the keys, Kaede was beaming as warmly as ever, her joyful energy filling the room. Her plum eyes twinkled with happiness and pride as she congratulated Maki, going on and on about how quick a learner she was and how perfectly she had performed the piece. Somehow, Kaede seemed just as amazed by those few seconds of simple, unaccompanied melody as the people in Maki’s dreams were after hearing long, grandiose concertos.
“Thank you, Kaede,” Maki said as she held Kaede’s hand in a gesture of gratitude. She’d never really thought she’d be able to make someone else truly happy like this, but now that she’d succeeded, she couldn’t help but feel that way herself, too. She wasn’t useless after all, and she felt… good. It was like she’d been trapped in the dark and cold all this time, and a window had finally opened up for her to see the sky. It was a wondrous feeling, Maki decided.
Right then, Kaede reached out to pull the brunette into a tight embrace. Maki, for once feeling wholeheartedly like she deserved it, reciprocated, gingerly wrapping her own arms round the blonde’s waist. Instantly, she felt a wave of warmth wash over her, enveloping her gently, filling her chest and brushing lightly against the tips of her hair.
So this was what it was supposed to feel like, in the dreams. Not suffocating, not forceful, but pleasant, with a little tingling feeling in her heart that was unfamiliar, but that Maki decided was perfectly welcome.
She wanted to recreate this feeling again, and again and again until she got sick of it.
And now, she had a little bit of faith that maybe, just maybe, she could.
That night, as Maki climbed into bed next to Kaede, she drifted off peacefully at last. And for the first time in a long, long while, she emerged in a dream as herself, surrounded by all her friends, all of them sharing smiles and laughter, as happy as ever.
She wouldn’t have it any other way.