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it was pretty common for kuboyasu aren to be at school early. the chill in the air, the crunch under his feet as he walked, the silence of the world, it was peaceful in the mornings. there was barely a car out, and no one was walking this early either, save for the odd delinquent that stayed in their own secluded areas.
the morning fog reminded him of the good old days, and while he wouldn’t dare return to those days, they still served as a fond memory in his mind, something to lean back on when things were tough. but even as a goody-two-shoes, he’d taken to enjoying the morning. sitting in the classroom, reading manga until school started wasn’t as exciting as beating someone to a pulp for stepping on his territory, but it was somehow just as fun.
and the mundane parts of being a normie were surprisingly interesting, once he got used to his new ways.
the school gate pushed open with an easy creak , just early enough for them to be unlocked, but too early for the gates to be open just yet. and as kuboyasu made his way in, the comfortable morning silence filled him with a sense of peace.
slipping his shoes off in favour for his indoor shoes, he slid them carefully into his shoe locker, swinging it closed. it was only as he was heading upstairs to pass the time in his empty classroom that he heard the noise.
reminding him briefly of the rumour earlier in the school year when a ghost was haunting the music rooms, kuboyasu could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. which was ridiculous, he wasn’t afraid of ghosts, or anything of the like.
still, ghosts were pretty terrifying. not like people, that all go down the same way. ghosts, even if they weren’t real, were unpredictable and frightening. there was a kid in one of the other classes who even claimed to see ghosts, and that was all the ghost activity kuboyasu could handle at once.
even so, his curiosity got the better of him, and he began to head towards the music, despite everything in his body telling him that this was a bad idea , and to just let the medium kid handle the ghost stuff .
as he got closer, he could hear the individual notes being pressed down, sounding like the ghost was playing the piano, just like before.
when did they get a new piano in the music room? last thing kuboyasu remembered of the ghost incident was that they’d gotten rid of the ghostly playing by removing the piano altogether, taking it somewhere else so the ghost could continue playing its music without scaring the hell out of the teachers.
did someone donate a new one already? well, it had been a couple months, and the students did still need a piano, as there was still an entire club that revolved around one.
maybe it was just them, coming in for an early club meeting, kuboyasu reasoned with himself. there was no need for any more ghosts, real or not. there was always a perfectly logical explanation for things like ghostly sounding beautiful music.
speaking of the music, it continued on playing, unbroken, as if the pianist playing had been practising for years, becoming a prodigy. if this was a real person, kuboyasu would probably encourage them to sign up for competitions or award opportunities.
however musically untrained his own ears might be, the still-playing music sounded great, and as kuboyasu stopped in front of the door where the piano resided, he steeled himself, opening the door a crack, to peek inside.
the blinds in the room were open, and the sun was beginning to peek through the trees and the grass, filtering into the room with a golden colour, illuminating the person at the piano –the person, kuboyasu realised, with a sigh of relief, not the ghost– and their head was bowed over the piano, as if there was no music in front of them and they were playing from memory alone.
and kuboyasu’s eyes widened slightly as he realised just who was playing the piano this early in the morning, head bent, feet pressed gently against the pedals of the instrument.
pulling the door open further, trying to be as quiet as he could, so not to interrupt, he watched as his friend continued to play, stepping in the room and closing the door behind him. and the sun finally grazed the other boy’s pink hair, and kuboyasu could feel his stomach turn as he watched.
it was like he was intruding on something that wasn’t meant to be seen. and something was different about saiki too, kuboyasu realised, as he stepped closer to him, the floor creaking under his feet.
and saiki didn’t move a muscle, his fingers drifting over the keys, coaxing the piano to say something other than the individual notes that other students could pull out of it.
his hairpins were missing, kuboyasu realised, as he moved even closer, as if entranced, the notes making the hairs on his arm stand with how soft they floated through the air, as saiki kept playing. there didn’t seem to be an end to the music, and kuboyasu wondered if he was even playing any music at all, or if this was all something that saiki was able to conjure up in his head, music that flowed into his brain and through his fingers.
saiki was one of the smartest friends kuboyasu had. he wouldn’t be surprised.
but as kuboyasu finally reached the piano, shifting his way around it so he could see saiki’s fingers pressing the keys with such intensity that it was hard to look away, his gaze finally slid up to watch his expression, and his eyes, kuboyasu realised, were closed .
and he could see the faint whisper of a smile across saiki’s face as he played, each press of a piano key keeping the smile on the other boy’s face, the sun splayed across his cheeks.
his own cheeks growing warm, kuboyasu leaned against the top board of the piano cabinet, and watched, utterly transfixed by the music that saiki seemed to recall from the top of his head.
and as it was wrapping down, his gaze never leaving the other boy’s expression, kuboyasu watched saiki’s eyes open, almost as if he was coming out of a music induced trance. he looked tranquil, at peace, as his eyes rose to meet kuboyasu’s gaze.
and kuboyasu felt like his body had restarted.
“holy shit,” he muttered. “why do your eyes look so pretty dude?”
saiki stared up at him for a second, before almost jolting in shock, his hands striking random keys out of sheer surprise, a delayed reaction to kuboyasu’s sudden appearance. the glasses that usually covered saiki’s eyes, giving them a green sheen, were gone, and the sun covering the room and his cheeks, only made them brighter, a pink-tinted purple that stared up at him, and made kuboyasu so embarrassingly warm .
but saiki didn’t respond to him, only stared up at him with the most expressive expression kuboyasu had ever seen. his mouth slightly open, his eyebrows furrowed together, unblocked by his glasses, his hair falling down around his ears, that was usually held up by his strange hairpins.
“did-” and kuboyasu put the pieces together. “did you not hear me come in?”
hesitantly, almost staggeringly, saiki shook his head, beginning to pull the cover over the piano keys.
that explained how the door opening didn’t stilt the music, the floors creaking as he made his approach didn’t interrupt him– saiki couldn’t even hear it.
“just focused on the music, huh?” he asked, a little grin crossing his face. “you’re real good at that, you know? i wanna know how you got so good at it. you’re crazy talented dude.”
and slowly, almost sheepishly, saiki grinned back, the sun rising in the sky illuminating his flushed cheeks.