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“Play something for me.”
Riko slid aside to make room for You on her bedroom’s piano bench, motioning for her to join her.
There was no chance of refusal. You felt completely out of place as she took a seat beside the red-haired girl. Music wasn’t exactly her element; even though she was a school idol and excelled in singing, when it came to playing instruments she was utterly lost. Her position was stiff and awkward, and she unconsciously held her breath as she began to play the only song she knew.
A very out-of-place plink sounded from the first key that she pressed, and You embarrassedly drew back her hand.
You’ve already made a mistake and it’s the first note! Dummy.
The short-haired girl let out a shaky, exasperated laugh and paused to take in the response of her friend. Riko was still beside her, watching her movements intently and nodding for her to continue.
She’s not teasing me...
You swallowed and started playing from the top. Her hands moved clumsily as she gazed down at the ivory keys, constructing a familiar yet inept tune. This time around, she managed to string together the correct notes, yet her sense of rhythm was interrupted by her concentration on melodic precision. You’s expression, pained with concentration, had made it very obvious that she was struggling with her performance.
The song was short and awkward, a melody befitting of elementary-level piano students at best, and at its conclusion You could almost feel the redness staining her cheeks. She was humiliated. Riko would inevitably tease her for ages.
But she didn’t.
She applauded her.
“Well done.” Riko clapped heartily, her smile warm and genuine. “Chopsticks? It’s been some time since I’ve heard that one.”
You’s blush only deepened at the praise. “Ah, it’s nothing really…” she giggled, scratching her head. “It’s the only thing I can play. Before I got into swimming, mama suggested that I take piano lessons.”
Riko’s eyes widened with interest. “How long did you play?”
“It was two weeks before I dropped it for the swim club.”
Both girls let out a small laugh, tinged with an edge of nervousness. Riko shifted her gaze to the floor as the room grew uncomfortably silent. It was almost expecting.
“What are you going to play?”
You’s curious and expectant tone roused Riko from her daze, causing her to tense with bashfulness. “You want me to play something? Now?”
The grey-haired girl beamed at her. “Well, I played a song for you. It’s only fair that you do the same.”
Riko simply bit her lip and stared at her feet. You waited for several moments before she finally shifted into her playing position, fingers hovering above the keys.
“Clair de Lune,” Riko murmured the title softly. She swallowed and shut her eyes momentarily, pausing to take in a shaky breath. Despite her overwhelming nerves, her movements remained steady and graceful as her fingertips made their first contact with the keyboard. She exhaled.
The very first chord filled the silent room with an echoing warmth. Riko held it for a couple of moments, fingers wavering as she gathered the resolution to continue her performance.
She played the next chord with less hesitation. And the next.
You could almost feel the passion that was revealing itself within the pianist. Every one of Riko’s movements flowed as gently as the melody that they produced. Riko let her hands glide across the keys with a serene grace, bowing her wrists and lifting her fingers with a precision unfound to the sailor. Strands of maroon fell before her eyes as her head tilted rhythmically with her playing. Every ringing chord, every press of a key, every intake of breath; everything was illuminated by Riko’s passionate tenderness. You’s pale blue eyes were wide with warmth as she took in the beauty of the pianist and her song. With every note, she was filled with an influx of butterflies.
The sailor found herself focused on Riko’s hands as they drifted among the ivory keys. The red-haired girl’s hands were lithe and delicate, smooth, untouched by the harshness faced by her own pair. You’s fingers contrasted greatly. They were rough and calloused, weathered from their use on her father’s boat. Tying knots and casting sails was anything but a delicate chore, and so many years of work had taken its toll. The gentle physique of Riko’s hands was yet another reminder of their differences; one’s dedication to art and beauty would certainly reflect in themselves. Riko was, in You’s perspective, exactly that. She was stunning. You longed to take those hands in hers, to feel their warmth and softness, but doing so would put a halt on the song.
She couldn’t bear to think of it ending.
You was utterly lost in the somber sweetness of Riko’s melody. As the piano’s subdued yet passionate tune continued to sound, You felt herself grow more and more distant from her senses. Her surroundings grew vacant, save for the presence of the girl seated beside her, and she could feel her emotions heightening with every press of the keys. She drifted away into her thoughts; into visions of warm embraces, of first kisses, of nervous confessions. Her mind was filled with nothing but sweetness. Nothing but Riko.
She loved her.
I love her.
The melody slowed as it drew to a close, leaving behind an alluring ring as Riko struck the final note. Several long moments passed in silence as she caught her breath. She lifted her head, only to catch sight of You’s strong gaze. There were tears in her eyes, beginning to drip down the sides of her cheeks.
Without premonition, You leaned forward. Riko didn’t have a chance to shut her eyes before their lips met in a clumsy, tear-filled kiss. It took a couple of seconds for the red-haired girl to overcome her astonishment and deepen their contact, entangling her hands in the other’s hair. You felt all will slip away from her as they kissed. Her eyes were squeezed shut, cheeks hot, as she felt the warmth of the other girl against her lips. They pulled each other closer, pressing themselves against one another as their emotional fervor grew stronger.
At last they broke away, breathing audibly with shaking hands and reddened cheeks. Both gazes were shyly averted to the floor before they inevitably met again, full of long-withheld affection. They shared a quiet, jittery laugh, wiping their tears and catching their breath.
The air was still and silent, save for the sweetness of the melody that was Clair de Lune .