Chapter Text
Someone was playing the piano in the woods.
Akito could barely hear it over the crashing of footsteps through the forest as he clung to the branch of the tree he was sitting in for dear life, praying to any god he could think of that nobody would notice him. The satchel he carried with him everywhere hung off his shoulder with the heaviest weight he’d ever carried, both physically and metaphorically. After all, though it was small, a crown made mostly of solid gold was bound to be at least somewhat heavy.
One thing was for sure - he could never let An find out what he’d really been doing that morning. If she knew that he had stolen the king’s crown from right underneath his nose, she would never let him live it down. Akito would be on the run for the rest of his life, and that wasn’t particularly something he wanted.
After he was positive that all his assailants had fled the scene, Akito dropped from the tree, landing on his feet with the practiced moves of someone who had been jumping from trees all his life. The impact sent tiny shockwaves through his legs, and he shivered, shaking them off as he retreated into the brush. He could still hear the soft piano playing - a soft song that echoed through the air, soothing the ache in his bones and lulling him into a sense of calm.
Akito shook his head, trying to rid himself of the hazy feeling that had suddenly taken over his senses. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, he looked to the sky, squinting as he tried to gauge how much sunlight was left. Ena had requested for him to be home before nightfall - Mizuki was coming to visit, and they were bringing food, so it was important that he made it home in time to eat.
Sunlight dappled through the leaves of the trees in the telltale way that showed it was early evening. The sun wasn’t going to set for another hour or two - he had time to track this mysterious musician down.
Akito walked through the forest, humming along to the piano song. Whoever was playing had been practicing this song for what felt like forever, or at least since he had entered the woods. They played like a master at their craft, as if they knew the piano like the back of their hands. Even Akito, who had spent most of his life singing, didn’t have control over his voice the same way this pianist did over their music. It was admirable in a way he’d never before encountered.
As he walked further though the woods, the song became louder and louder, until eventually, Akito emerged into a clearing he’d never seen before. He could tell he’d never seen it before because of the massive tower in the center. What the fuck?
It was taller than almost any other structure he’d ever seen, though the clearing was contained in a valley shaped in such a way that the sides curved up and hid it from outside view. The tower’s brick façade had small divots trailing up the side, and as Akito approached, he noticed that they were the perfect size and shape to climb up to the top, where a window sat wide open. He could hear the piano at the base of the tower, louder than ever before, and it sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. Somehow, listening to this song, he’d never felt more at ease.
Akito didn’t know what had possessed him to grab onto the notches in the walls, or what had propelled him to launch himself up to the top of the tower, but before he knew it, his fingers were wrapped around the wooden ledge at the base of the window. A whisper in the back of his mind told him that it probably wasn’t a good thing that a simple song was able to send him this deep into a trance, but he shushed that voice, because how could something so utterly beautiful ever cause him harm?
He hauled himself over the ledge, stifling heavy breaths with a hand against his chest as he laid his eyes on the man sitting at the piano, and in seconds, all the remaining air was expelled from his lungs.
Though he was hunched over the piano, shoulders bunched up and neck craned over the keys, Akito could see he was tall - tall enough to tower over him, for sure. Evening light glimmered off his two-toned hair, dark and light shades of blue shining in the sunset. His fingers danced across the piano keys with the skill of an expert, and he seemed just as absorbed in the song as Akito - completely unaware of the world around him.
That was, until his finger slipped and he hit a wrong note.
The shift in the air around him was immediate and intense, the room growing thick with tension weighing so heavily on his shoulders that Akito barely felt the weight of the satchel hanging by his waist. Now that he thought about it, what the fuck was he doing here? He’d heard a song that sounded nice, so what? That didn’t give him the right to break into a complete stranger’s house. He was breaking and entering. An would be having a field day with the scenario he was trapped in right now.
Did it really matter, though? His spine was still racked by shivers - there was no denying that that song was one of the best things he’d ever heard. It must have taken such an immense amount of talent to weave something like that into existence - more talent than Akito would ever possess in the entire rest of his life.
The pianist was now sitting in complete silence, and he curled his hands into fists, knuckles turning white with the force he was pressing his nails into his palms with. After a moment, he uncurled his fingers and laid them back on the keys of the piano, his motions accompanied with a long, fatigued sigh. He sat there, flexing his fingers back and forth, lightly touching the keys - never pushing them hard enough to make a sound.
Though Akito couldn’t see his face, he could easily read his emotions from his posture - he was upset. The mistake had shaken him up, the same way that Ena would get shaken up whenever she made a mistake on an especially important commission. Whenever she was upset - at least, not too upset, otherwise she’d refuse to listen to him - positive reinforcement would help. Maybe that’s what this pianist needed.
Akito cleared his throat, stepping forward. “I don’t know much about piano music, but that sounded really good,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back and working as hard as he could to keep his voice even. He didn’t want to scare him too badly.
That point was kind of ridiculous, actually. There were very few ways to keep a stranger completely calm after you broke into their house with no prior knowledge, and unfortunately, Akito was not well versed in any of them.
The pianist flinched, whirling around and re-curling his hands again before raising them in defense. Akito stumbled backwards, holding his hands up in surrender. “Sorry!” he said, shaking his head. “I just - I heard you playing, and it sounded really, really good. And it looked like you were kind of beating yourself up about it, so…”
The pianist refused to move, his expression schooled into something hard and unreadable. His steel gray eyes pierced into Akito’s very soul, glaring at him with such intensity that he could feel goosebumps rising on his exposed flesh.
“You just, uh, you sounded nice. And I thought you should know that,” Akito said, trying his best to bite his tongue and keep himself from rambling. “Shit, this is weird, isn’t it? I’ll just go.”
“Don’t,” the pianist said, and Akito’s stomach flipped.
His voice was low and quiet, with the rough tone of disuse. He clearly didn’t speak much, but he took a deep breath, lowering his fists and turning around so that he could see him better. “Who are you?” he asked.
After a moment, Akito cleared his throat, letting one hand fall to his side while he stepped forward and raised the other in greeting. “Akito Shinonome. I’m…” Who was he, other than a thief? “An artist, of sorts.”
The pianist raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? What kind of art do you do?” he asked. His voice was so quiet that Akito had to strain to hear. God damn it, he was hoping that he wouldn’t ask that question.
Akito half-heartedly chuckled, trying his best to break the tension to no avail. “I like music, too,” he said. “I sing sometimes. Haven’t had a chance to in a while, though. I’m a bit rusty.”
The pianist leaned back against his instrument, letting the tautness in his muscles release. “Sing for me,” he said.
Akito spluttered, his cheeks burning. “Excuse me?”
The pianist tilted his head, pursing his lips. “Well, if I have this correct, you’ve been listening to me play the piano for, what, the last half hour?” Akito bit his lip, nodding in confirmation. “Then I think it’s only fair that I get to hear a song as well.”
Akito opened his mouth, as if to refuse, before realizing that he didn’t really have a solid defense here. The pianist was right - it was the least he could do after literally breaking into his house to hear his music.
He cleared his throat again, shutting his eyes, and sang a few bars from the first song he could think of. It was a lullaby that Ena had sung to him long ago, back when they were still just children, safe at home with no concept of how rotten the world could be. Back when Ena didn’t have to work herself half to death to take care of the two of them, and Akito didn’t have to put his life on the line to put food on the table. He cut himself off when he could feel the bitterness seeping into his voice, his eyes fluttering open to see the pianist faintly smiling, eyes crinkled at the corners.
“You have a very nice voice,” he said. “It makes me feel at ease.” His words sent a thrill straight into Akito’s heart, and he could feel his heartbeat pick up ever so slightly.
“You have a nice voice, too,” Akito said, and he meant it. He liked the way it sounded - sharp and uneven around the edges, but still tinged with a tone of tenderness. His voice felt like optimism, in a way. It made him feel alive.
They stood there for another few moments, observing each other in complete silence, until Akito realized something important. “You didn’t give me a name,” he said.
The pianist stiffened for a moment, and he looked away, gaze landing on the wooden floors. He murmured something quietly, low enough that Akito could barely hear.
He took a step forward, slowly approaching the pianist on his bench. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” he said, stopping when they were just a few feet away from each other. The pianist swallowed, and Akito could see his throat bobbing.
“I’m–” Before he could finish speaking, a bell rang at the tower window, and his back instantly went ramrod straight. “You have to hide. Now.”
Akito whipped around, his eyes latching onto the bell. “What? What’s going on?”
“Shinonome, please,” the pianist said, and Akito’s heart dropped into his stomach at the look in his eyes. This was the most expressive he’d been throughout their encounter, and his face was filled with fear. “Under the bed, or - or something. Just don’t let him see you.”
There was no time for games. Akito dropped to the floor, rolling himself underneath the bed that sat across the room from the piano. There was just enough room for him to fit while still being able to see, and he watched as the pianist swerved around in one smooth movement, resuming his song as if nothing had changed.
A pair of footsteps crashed into the room, heavy enough to shake Akito underneath the bed. “You weren’t practicing when I arrived,” an unfamiliar voice said, and the mere sound of it was enough to carve a pit in his gut.
The pianist’s playing stilled. “I’m sorry, Father. I made a mistake and got frustrated. It won’t happen again.”
“Then why did you stop now?”
Akito shuffled forward slightly, enough that he could catch a glimpse of his full form. The pianist was closed in on himself even more than he was before, his hands tight and tense as opposed to their smooth, gentle movements from earlier. He was afraid.
His father sighed, clicking his tongue. “You are never going to improve in any substantial way with the way you’re practicing now,” he said. “Look at your form, Toya. What are you doing with your hands? This isn’t the way I taught you to play. You’re wasting my time with this nonsense.”
Toya. That must be his name.
God, Akito wished he had learned it in any other way.
“My hands have been cramping up recently,” Toya said, and Akito could hear a slight shake in his voice. “It’s been hurting more and more to play.”
“Then fix it,” his father said, and Toya winced. “You and I both know the things you’re capable of. If your hands are hurting, make them stop. It’s that simple.”
Akito gritted his teeth, curling his hands into fists. It wasn’t that simple - years of living with a sister who painted for a living had taught him well in that regard. The last time someone had made a remark like that to Ena, she’d ended up having to use their commission payment to bail him out of jail. An had gotten a good laugh out of that one, but he could tell she was secretly pissed it wasn’t her who had put him in there.
The point was, he fucking hated people who fundamentally misunderstood the way the human body worked. Especially when it was related to art.
Toya sighed, resuming his practice under his father’s eye. “I’ll try,” he said. “Did you bring anything for dinner tonight?”
“That depends,” his father said, returning to the window. “Do you think you’ve done anything to earn it?”
Toya’s fingers slipped. He cursed under his breath, bowing his head, and tried his best to resume the rhythm. “I… I suppose that’s a no, then,” he murmured.
A moment of silence, only broken by the soft noise of the piano.
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” his father said, and just like that, he was gone.
Akito stayed perfectly still underneath the bed for a few more moments, just to ensure that there was no other company. Not long after his father left, Toya rose from his seat, walking over to the bed and crouching beside it. “He’s gone,” he whispered. “I think it’s safe for you to come out now.”
Akito rolled out from under the bed, coughing up a bit of dust as he rose to his feet. “Dude. What the actual fuck?”
“Sorry,” Toya said, clasping his hands together behind his back. “I don’t clean under there very often. Not many reasons to.”
Akito stared at him, completely and totally dumbfounded. “Not about the dust. I don’t care about the dust,” he said, pointing at the window. “What the fuck is wrong with your dad?”
Toya stiffened. “He’s just hard on me,” he said. “It’s a long story. He wants me to be a good musician.”
“You’re one of the best musicians I’ve ever heard,” Akito said, shaking his head. “And that’s not - that’s not normal. You don’t just deprive someone of food because they weren’t practicing an instrument for five minutes.” Before Toya could object, he reached into his satchel, ignoring the other contents in favor of searching for a small bag. Whenever he went on longer trips, Ena would pack him some extra snacks - he hadn’t eaten them this time around, and while he was hungry as all hell, his sister and her partner would have food ready for him when he got back home. Toya didn’t have that. “Eat these. Please. It doesn’t have to be now, just… get some food in your system. You need energy if you’re going to practice.”
Toya hesitated for a moment, but when Akito shoved the bag in his face, he gingerly took it from his hands. “Thank you, Shinonome. I appreciate the gesture.”
For some reason, the usage of his surname was jarring. Akito liked the way it sounded in his voice, but it didn’t feel right. Toya needed a friend, someone who was on his same level, and Akito was determined to fill that role for him. “Call me Akito,” he said. “I don’t mind.”
Toya curled his hands around the bag of snacks, clenching it tightly as if he was worried it would disappear at any second. “...Thank you, Akito.”
Akito decided he was going to ignore the way that hearing him say his name accelerated his heartbeat, and instead focus on literally anything else. Like his eyes. Or his hair. Or any fucking thing else, because this situation was driving him insane. “It’s no problem. Really.”
Toya looked toward the window, letting his grip loosen a bit. “I just realized, I don’t think I ever actually gave you my name,” he said, clicking his tongue. “It’s Toya. Toya Aoyagi, but… I don’t mind if you call me by my first name as well, I suppose. It’s only fair.”
He tilted his head in a way that made the sunlight shine across his hair, nearly glowing in the fading light. He was… really pretty. Possibly one of the prettiest people Akito had ever met. If the sun wasn’t starting to set, he probably could have stayed there forever, just sitting there with him in silence.
Oh, shit. The sun was setting. Ena wanted him home by nightfall. Shit.
Akito snapped out of his trance, shaking his head. “Uh. I have to go. My sister wants me home before it gets too dark,” he said, and it took everything in him not to visibly wince when Toya’s face fell.
“Thank you for the food,” he said, taking his hand and gently shaking it. “It was nice to meet you, Akito.”
The sudden contact shocked him for a moment, and he just barely stopped himself from making a comment on how soft his hands were. “You as well, Toya,” he said. “I’ll be sure to visit often.”
Toya smiled, and God, his heart was going to melt. “I’ll see you around, then,” he said. He walked Akito over to the window, unlooping a rope from where it sat on a loop above the window. “It’ll be easier to get up and down with this. Just call for me, and I’ll help you up.”
“Thank you,” Akito said, grabbing onto the rope and leaning out of the window. “I’ll see you again soon.” They made eye contact one last time, and he smiled, before slowly lowering himself down the tower with the rope. As soon as his feet touched the grass, he ran to the edge of the clearing, shooting one last look at the window. If he squinted, he could see Toya sitting on the ledge, waving goodbye to him.
The fading sunlight glinted off his blue hair, and it was then that Akito Shinonome realized he had found a new favorite color.