Chapter Text
For as long as Toya could remember, he had lived in this house, confined within the same four walls he knew so well. His sole focus was playing the piano, playing the same melodies and songs every day under the watchful eye of his father, who criticized his every mistake. Not everyone could live in such luxury as he did, and Toya didn't want to think about being ungrateful. After all, he could afford food, a place to sleep, and an occupation that would bring him fame, just like his father. So why did he feel that... this was not how he wanted to live his life?
Toya never dared to stand up to his father. He learned to be submissive and to obey orders silently. So he sat at the piano, alone or with his father, his small, childish hands pressing the keys, producing a melody from inside the instrument that he listened to day after day, week after week. He stiffened at his father's sharp tone, his body freezing, holding back salty tears. More than once, he heard his mother urge his father to let up on the long, tedious lessons in isolation, but the man always responded with a shout or a grunt of discontent. It wasn't that Toya hated piano lessons; they were enjoyable, but he felt he would like them more if his father weren't so demanding. Nevertheless, he saw his talent as a gift that could cheer someone up, at least his own mother. His playing wasn't perfect, but Toya always tried his best. He always did.
He knew little about the “outside world,” as he himself once said. Growing up, his parents taught him at home. He never attended school, let alone kindergarten or nursery. He had no friends. No one but his relatives visited him, nor did he visit anyone. His father kept telling him that he would not be able to survive without him in the world outside their property, despite coming from such a wealthy family. Ah, yes, wealthy. Toya's father was a famous musician, hence their status and high income. Perhaps even pressure for his son to be exactly like him. This instilled in the young musician a certain fear, a phobia of what lay beyond the familiar walls of his home. Were all people so strict, so demanding? Did everyone have to rely on themselves to avoid rotting at the bottom, where no one dared to look? Did Toya have to be someone to survive longer than a day?
He always wondered if there was more to life than... classical music, which he had been playing since childhood. What exactly was happening in the world, were there people like him somewhere else? People who were looking for something more than what had been imposed on them for years…
Years passed, and the young musician never left his home. Over time, Toya began to spend more time alone at the piano, as his father disappeared for days, even weeks, returning to work. His mother took care of her son, ready to show him the world beyond the front door... but Toya was afraid. He was afraid to think about what might happen. Who he might meet. They weren't away from home for long. His mother took him to the mall to go shopping, and the boy felt... overwhelmed by the noise, the crowds, the stuffiness. At times, he literally couldn't take a full breath. But he held back his tears. He did everything he could to make his mother smile for a moment, to take him to a happy place, to spend at least one day together.
The only place he didn't associate with people, demanding piano lessons, or the outside world was the garden. For as long as he could remember, Toya would come to the same tree and sit on the same bench. Sometimes he would sit there for hours when his father was not at home. Over the years, his mother and one of his older brothers showed him how to care for plants. What they needed, how he could help them, how he could protect them. This allowed Toya to forget about the problems that whispered in his ear when he was at home or at the piano. When he turned 15, his mother decided he was old enough to be left alone. Although she said this with a heavy heart, Toya assured her that thanks to her help, he already knew how to take care of himself. He didn't want his mother to have to stay home with him and risk getting a bad reputation at work. After all, who extended their vacation to take care of their teenage son like a baby? Toya knew that if anything happened, he could contact her or one of his older brothers. He hadn't seen them in a long time, but he was sure they would come home to help him. Right..?
But now he was a grown man. Capable, ambitious, talented. He could go out into the world, leave his old life behind, and start over. His parents and brothers didn't come home as often anymore, but Toya didn't feel lonely. He had activities that distracted him from negative thoughts. Ever since he first became interested in the garden, it had become his second paradise. The trees reached the clouds, and the branches and leaves cast long shadows stretching far ahead. Bees and butterflies gathered among the flowers, happily collecting nectar and flying from one bush to another. All the weeds had been pulled out by the roots, and there were no signs of pests. Toya felt extremely proud of his work every time he looked at the garden he had tended.
And sometimes, when the nights were warmer, Toya liked to sit under the same tree, on the same bench, watching the night sky and the stars or fireflies. He was then filled with a pleasant silence and peace that he lacked in his life. Of course, today he also decided to sit in his favorite place, in his little oasis. The wind gently ruffled his hair, which fell over his forehead and outlined his eyes. The crystal earring reflected the moonlight, and the jewelry itself was a pleasant, familiar weight on his ear. The moonlight also illuminated his slightly pale skin, giving it an almost magical glow. The mole under his left eye was like the last, tiny detail of a painter who wanted to add as many details as possible that were not immediately noticeable. And the sight of a young man like Toya, shrouded in the delicate, silky glow of the moon, his sharp, slightly narrowed gray eyes watching the starry sky, surrounded by dense, well-kept greenery, seemed as if it was taken straight from one of the most beautiful paintings.
However, feeling increasingly tired, Toya relaxed and sighed lightly. Closing his eyes, he listened to the quiet whisper of the wind and the distant sounds of life in the city center. The neighborhood where he lived was quiet, located on the outskirts of the city, so Toya could sometimes even enjoy nighttime rest in the garden.
Allowing calmness to envelop him like a warm, fluffy blanket, Toya fell asleep. His head rested lightly against the tree trunk behind him, and his chest rose and fell with quiet, deep breaths.