Chapter Text
“That brat from the Shinonome family gave me a heart attack the other day. Won’t he ever grow up?”
“He stole another loaf of cinnamon bread when I left it to cool. He’s such a pain to handle.”
“I swear, any day now he’ll start following in his ancestors’ footprints. No one will be able to stop him.”
“He needs a wife. That ought to calm that little rebel down.”
“No, he needs to follow his father’s example and grow up! He can’t dart around the issue forever!”
“He ought to be like his sister! She’s a pain, too, but at least she works for this kingdom!”
“Shinonome-kun doesn’t do anything for anyone!”
Not a single thing inside the castle was of interest to Akito.
Ever since he was little and had given up on being a knight, nothing had stood out to him. Nervous servants, scheming nobles, meetings that dragged on and on and on without end–all of it was a useless waste of his time, and nothing made his heart race anymore.
No matter what he did or tried, everything just…bored him.
As such, he amused himself by sneaking ‘round the castle’s many vents and secret passages, playing minor pranks and scaring whoever happened to nearby in an attempt to feel something that wasn’t just mind-numbing boredom. It didn’t always work–and it always led others to believe he had worse intentions—but it was better than nothing.
It was silly, but on some days Akito knew that all he wanted was someone else to talk to about this feeling–this feeling where it seemed someone had scrubbed away the path before him and left a void to stumble through.
Becoming a family representative wasn’t what he wanted, and he knew he didn’t have the same drive for knighthood as others did. He’d crashed and burned there so painfully it was clear he should never try again.
Becoming a painter like his father and sister wasn’t what he wanted, either. So many paths lay before him, and yet Akito rejected all of them.
Why?
Why have I stopped caring?
There was nothing else that seemed to fill him with any sort of drive, so he just decided one day to fall back and let the void sweep him along.
It was easy, but it didn’t feel right.
Then again, nothing did, so why bother to keep searching?
He wanted to tell someone about the apathy welling up inside him, but no one around him seemed to understand it–his sister was too caught up in her sheer rage and desperation to prove their father wrong to feel ‘bored,’ her partner never seemed to grow tired of sewing, and even the crown prince had something that drove him on. Sure, sometimes he looked a little lonely as he tinkered with his terrifying machines, but Akito knew their feelings weren’t the same, so he never took the first step towards him.
For the most part he tried to ignore it.
He stole Ena’s cheesecake, rearranged Mizuki’s ribbon collection, popped out of vents at inopportune times and did his best to frighten Rui, who–maddeningly enough–never seemed to react, trying to pretend it was fine to just exist as he was–just another moody flower blooming out of the way of the path.
But it still wasn’t enough.
…Well, it can’t be helped.
Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped training.
But it’s too late to just go back.
Akito let his legs dangle over the window ledge, taking in the garden that spread below him like always. It was so, so far away–it was oddly peaceful to look down on it.
That meeting is probably ending soon.
I know Ena will be on my ass later for not showing up…
Ugh. Maybe I should’ve gone after all.
…Sometimes I wonder what the hell I’m doing with myself.
Everyone else has it all figured out. Ena paints, Akiyama makes clothes, and while Kamishiro’s not that crazy about being king he still does it anyway.
I’m falling behind.
I won’t even do the things people want from me.
I won’t do anything at all.
Why am I still here if I haven’t pulled myself together?
Why was this corpse of his still animated while it refused to live?
The rustling, ever-swaying garden below him didn’t give him the answers, so Akito just stared out at the ground wheeling away below.
How nice it might be to stop feeling all of this.
How nice.
Maybe I shouldn’t even bother to—
“–AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Akito hastily seized the window frame as a loud scream nearly startled him off. What the hell?!
Who was that?! Is someone dying?!
…Kamishiro is hanging out somewhere nearby here, isn’t he?
He hesitated. It was best to stay out of trouble, but…
My dad’ll have my hide if something happens to the crown prince on my watch.
And Kamishiro’s not terrible.
I’d better go see what happened.
Akito leapt carefully to the next window over, seizing the thick vine that clung to the wall beside it and dropping to the gardening shed below. As soon as he’d landed safely he hurried across the roof and dropped to the ground, slinking carefully along the wall so as not to be spotted.
This garden’s so close to the wall…I can’t believe Kamishiro comes out here all the time.
What if someone’s trying to assassinate him at last?
Aurora’s not made any moves in years, but—
…Huh?
He stared at the sight before him from behind the rose bush that shielded him–Rui talking to a boy so white and shiny he practically glowed against the gloomy colors surrounding him.
It was quite, quite obvious from one look at his outfit that he was from Aurora.
Likely even someone high-ranked–maybe the crown prince, from how he carried himself.
What on earth is Kamishiro doing talking to him?
He saw Rui pointing ahead to where the exit lay, and relief washed over him. Good. He’s getting him out of here.
God, that man is loud.
I can hear him all the way from over here.
Akito trailed reluctantly after them as the crown prince led the other towards the staircase leading from the wall, longing to go back inside but duty-bound to watch just in case this cheery stranger made any kind of move against Rui.
Thankfully this moment never came, and the two bid each other farewell quite easily. He was almost shocked.
Two people from the kingdoms just…had a normal conversation.
Huh.
So weird.
Once he knew for sure Rui was alone again he trudged back to the castle, trying to shrug the matter off like it was just another Tuesday. It was more likely nothing would come out of this.
And yet he couldn’t banish the sight from his mind.
Stupid prince. Stupid princes. Stupid asshole princes.
Akito kept up a steady flow of curses (in his head, of course) as he quietly crawled through the large vent above the ballroom, checking from time to time to ensure the package Rui had forced on him was still tucked into his coat.
There goes my relaxing evening. I spent all day trying to avoid my father, and instead of sleeping I have to do this?
I can’t believe I walked right into his trap. What an idiot.
I swear, if I didn’t vaguely like that guy…
He stopped to study the room below him, noting how similar it looked to Rui’s own. I’m probably here already.
It’s nice to know the castles really are built similarly. I guess all that stuff Ena was telling me makes sense.
They really are lonely. They’ll never be able to meet up with their other half again.
…God. I sound so pathetic.
He chased the thoughts out of his head and pushed open the vent, carefully checking to make sure the shouty prince was nowhere nearby before slipping out entirely.
He landed on carpet so soft his feet sunk straight down. A part of him was tempted to take off his boots and see how it felt against his skin, but that was childish, so he suppressed the urge and hefted the package in hand. Alright. Just have to find a place to put it.
It’s gotta be somewhere obvious…but if someone else gets to it before this idiot it’ll cause trouble.
Where should I–
He heard a door opening somewhere farther off.
Shit.
I gotta hurry.
Akito hastily set the box on a random pouf resting nearby and raced for the vent again, seizing the edge of the hole and quickly pulling himself inside. Just in time, too–the crown prince had apparently just entered his room, and he was brandishing a boot like that would do any real good against an intruder (although admittedly it did look quite hard.)
He breathed a sigh of relief as Tsukasa’s eyes darted over the vent before landing on the package again. Safe.
I could head back now, but…
I want to see how he reacts to this.
Akito watched in vague curiosity as the older boy eagerly undid the ribbon, humming to himself like a little kid. Flower seeds and cookies…and one of those weird-smelling candles.
They’re not royalty-level gifts at all.
Why is he so happy?
He left the room behind, unable to watch as Tsukasa read the note Rui had put together just for him.
“TOYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! HOW DOES THIS FLOWER LOOK?!”
“It looks wonderful, Tsukasa,” Toya reassured, stepping into his older brother’s room in order to properly admire said flower. “Is it made out of fabric?”
“Indeed it is!” Tsukasa declared, seizing a tiny sheaf of pure black silk and starting another. “Held together with the kingdom’s finest gold wire, of course! It’s a hat that will announce clearly to the whole world how grand its owner will be!”
…It’s rather unusual for Tsukasa to use such dark colors.
That’s meant to be a sign of bad luck over here, isn’t it?
Well, if Tsukasa was doing it, it probably wasn’t that bad. Toya shrugged the thought off.
“All I have to do is make a few more of these and the hat is finished,” the prince muttered, busily shaping a petal and setting it aside. “Ah, Toya! Want to help me put together some of these petals? It’ll take me forever to do them myself!”
Toya hesitated, staring uncertainly at the pot of glue Tsukasa had placed over the nearby furnace. “But…the glue is hot, isn’t it?”
If the glue was hot, he stood a small chance of burning his fingers.
And if he burned his fingers, then perhaps he wouldn’t be able to play…
What would my father say?
I should say no.
But if Tsukasa is offering…
“Mmmm…I suppose it is. But you won't burn yourself if you’re careful,” Tsukasa promised him, smiling reassuringly. “Besides! I’ve prepared some ice in case of any burns, so you’ve got nothing to fear!”
“...Ah. Then, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t! Let’s get started!”
Toya carefully settled down beside Tsukasa and accepted the wire and fabric he was handed. “Just coat the wire in the glue,” the older boy explained, carefully doing so to demonstrate his method to Toya. “Then wrap the petal around it! Ah, but don’t wrap it. Copy what I’m doing!”
“Got it.”
“Good morning, you tw–HEY! You’re making flowers and you didn’t invite me?!”
“Ah, Saki! Glad to see you up,” Tsukasa said cheerfully as the princess came storming into the kitchen in her nightgown, hair tied up in sloppy pigtails. “You were sleeping so soundly I couldn’t bear to wake you.”
“You should’ve!” she whined, plopping down beside him and snatching up some fabric. “You’re such a traitor, Onii-chan.”
“For making sure my sister isn’t tired all day long?!”
Toya couldn’t help but smile a little. It was nice to listen to their playful squabbling like this.
All three of them jumped as the nearby clock began to chime, dully tolling out the hour. His heart sank as he counted the strikes–eight, nine, ten–time for practice.
“I have to go,” he mumbled, carefully setting down his petals and getting to his feet. “Sorry, Tsukasa. Carry on without me.”
“Oh, but you’ve not even made a full flower yet,” Tsukasa protested. “I’m sure your father will understand if you’re just a couple minutes late!”
“...I mustn’t be late. Please, don’t worry.”
“Good luck, Toya,” Saki said, giving his arm a gentle pat as he passed. “Hey, we’ll save some fabric in case you end early!”
“Don’t bother,” he reassured her. “Thank you, though.”
Well, time to go.
Didn’t this used to excite me?
“That was wrong. Start over.”
Toya counted to three in his head before flipping the sheet music back to the beginning of the song, breathing in and out to keep his complaints buried.
Harumichi watched sharply as he began to play again, moving a little bit slower so as not to make the same mistakes he had last time. I’ve been coming in too fast on the bridge lately. I need to slow down.
Conversely, the outro has been too slow. I have to remember to speed up a little there.
It needs to be smoother.
It needs to be perfect.
He carefully slowed down as the bridge approached, careful to keep the chords the same without letting his fingers slide out of control.
Slowly but surely the music began to steal over him, almost as though it was moving through him like the blood in his veins. That sense of dread that always seemed to follow him whenever he sat down at the grand piano before him had vanished, replaced by an odd sense of confidence.
It felt almost magical.
The sound of the piano is really so beautiful.
I could listen to it forever, if only–
His finger slipped, and Toya winced as it pressed a flat note.
The harmony that had filled the room only a few seconds prior had completely disappeared, leaving him with only his failure.
“That’s not right,” his father said, right on time. He didn’t even have to look up to see his frown. “Start over, again.”
…And just like that the magic had ended.
Toya flipped back the sheet music and started over, chasing away that excitement when it tried to return.
It would only be killed over and over again, so there was no point in letting it distract him.
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
Like a hapless doll, he obeyed his father and began again and again and again.
When will this end?
Will I ever rise up and tell him what I really feel like the protagonist in a story?
It seems so easy.
And yet I can’t force the words from my throat.
The magic he’d once felt as a child years ago had abandoned him, and Toya wasn’t sure what to do now that it was gone. He wanted so desperately to return to the days where he’d happily played as his father wished–to stay that child who had yet to grow up to be the doll, the puppet that he was now–
–and yet they were over, and he could never get them back.
Oh, how he wanted to leave this foolish story behind.
But I can’t run.
I can’t run away at all.
Toya played and played, hands deathly still–not a tremor ran across them. He’d managed to fall into the right headspace at last, if his father’s silence this far into the song meant anything.
It’s perfect at last. I didn’t make any mistakes this time.
But it’s not right.
I don’t want this.
But how could I leave it behind?
Akito was starting to get tired of the ridiculous “war” between the two soon-to-be-kings.
When was it going to end?! They sent gift after gift, each present getting more and more extravagant as time went on (I mean seriously, the Auroran prince sewed him a FUCKING HAT) and neither prince had admitted defeat. It was annoying to watch.
There was no need to even send a gift in return for the Auroran prince’s, anyway.
It was to settle a debt, wasn’t it?
Why keep this going for so long?
Why?
…It was probably just one of those things Akito couldn’t ever hope to feel, honestly.
It was clear from the glow in Rui’s eyes whenever he handed him his latest gift and the way Tsukasa bounced off the walls when he opened it, or the way Rui would sit and silently read his letter, cheeks growing pinker every sentence and how Tsukasa determinedly sat there for a few minutes after opening his gift to plan his next.
They were closer than anyone Akito had ever seen–and it made him sick.
Why, he didn’t know. It was likely some petty kind of jealousy, or just that longing back again right when he didn’t need it.
But he wished it would disappear.
I don’t need this.
I hate wanting to wipe the smiles off their faces just ‘cause I don’t know what to do with my life.
How do I make this feeling disappear?
…Of course, Akito already knew that it would never disappear.
It would live on inside of him, grimly strangling his heart like briar vines, until the day he died.
He wished he had the bravery to stop feeling it for good.
But I don’t.
So I’ve got no choice but to keep going.
Akito pulled himself out of the vent again and dropped the latest package on Tsukasa’s nightstand, not caring that the prince in question had entered his room just in time to see him disappear again. He knew Akito by now, and had never once raised the alarm against him–so he didn’t have to be quite as panicky around him.
He’s a good guy. Just loud.
I can see why Kamishiro loves him so much.
A guilty feeling tugged at him, reminding of the words he’d thrown carelessly at the prince before leaving.
I’m such an idiot.
It doesn’t matter whether Kamishiro “loves” him or not. They could never be open about that.
People from the two kingdoms can’t be together. Everyone knows that.
It’s better for Kamishiro to pretend nothing is happening.
He watched Tsukasa jump back with a yelp as the little “Rui” robot twitched, looking spooked but nevertheless delighted.
…That guy should find someone else to deliver his packages.
Akito couldn’t bear to watch the sweet scene before him anymore.
For once, Akito wasn’t in a rush to get back home.
He sat on the closed balcony outside Tsukasa’s room, letting his legs dangle out into the oblivion below. Rain had started to fall, heavy enough to soak his hood and send a persistent, unending shiver throughout his whole body, but for some reason it wasn’t enough to bother him.
I’m so tired of this.
The mist brought about by the rain rose up before him, quietly hiding the already-distant courtyard below and wiping the sight of the people too far below to see him from his vision.
Akito imagined himself fading into that mist, disappearing like it always would when the sun inevitably came glaring out once more.
…Hey, would anyone miss me?
If I were to just quietly disappear…
Would anyone even care?
Akito stood up, hands at his side to test his balance. He swayed slightly over the edge of the balcony, heavily aware of how slick and wet the stone below his feet was.
He stared down at the void below him.
…Stupid.
I have to at least tell Kamishiro I’m not delivering his packages first.
It’s not fair to leave him wondering.
At last he stepped off onto the balcony and headed inside, pulling himself into the nearest vent and just praying he could sleep soon.
All of a sudden,
he heard a piano.
Toya hadn’t cried in years, and today he was struggling his hardest not to.
He’d played so long that afternoon that his hands felt stiff and his wrists ached with pain, but he hadn’t been able to perfect the song he was learning no matter how hard he tried. He came in too fast on the intro, the bridge was too slow, he pressed every other chord but A minor, his harmonies were awful–the mistakes piled up higher and higher until it felt like he was standing before a mountain built entirely out of them.
Any day now he felt it would collapse and bury him, and though he dreaded that day a part of him begged for it.
I want to rest.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
I’m so tired.
Toya longed to fall into bed and stay there for hours and hours and hours until he stopped breathing and even the Tenmas gave up on him–but his father had given him strict instructions that afternoon, so he dragged himself off the floor and sat down at the piano in the corner of his room again.
Just breathe, Toya.
It didn’t come as easily anymore. Could humans unlearn how to breathe?
Just breathe.
Just live a little longer.
For what, he wasn’t sure.
Will this ever end?
…No, it would not.
Not as long as he drew breath.
I wish it would stop.
Toya’s hands moved across the keys again like a marionette’s, stiff and uncooperative.
That note’s flat.
I came in too fast there.
That chord was utterly mangled.
It felt as though hot tears were stinging his eyes, but perhaps it was only an illusion. After all, Toya had stopped crying years ago.
I want to stop.
I want everything to stop.
But it won’t.
His hands clenched into fists. It took all he had not to slam them into the keys.
…All of a sudden he heard the whine of metal.
Toya glanced warily around his room, temporarily distracted from his despair by the unusual noise.
There was a beat of silence.
And then the vent by his window fell open and someone crashed onto the floor.
Toya shot to his feet, seizing the nearest weapon–a book–but the other person only hissed in pain, clutching their head as they sat up. “Fuck.”
They were, quite possibly, the wettest intruder he’d ever met (although he’d never met an intruder before now), deep black coat so soaked it looked as though they’d submerged themself in the nearby lake. Between that and their disgruntled expression, they reminded Toya somewhat of a deeply displeased cat.
It was oddly funny.
Priorities, Toya.
“Are you…an assassin?” Toya asked warily, risking a step forward.
“No,” they grumbled. He realized now it was a boy with flaming orange hair. “I’m just a mailman.”
“...Might you be from Vespera by any chance?”
He nodded, settling against the wall with a faintly miserable expression. “No point in hiding it,” he muttered. “I just bring gifts from our prince over to your brother. Feel free to ask him if you don’t believe me.”
I thought the things Tsukasa made were a little unusual.
Were they really for someone from Vespera?
Well, if he was confident Tsukasa would back him up, he probably was who he said he was. Toya let himself relax a little.
“Are you alright?” he asked. “That fall looked quite painful.”
“I’m fine,” the other boy said hastily. “I was just leaning on the vent too much.”
“It still looked like you hit your head fairly hard. Would you please let me fetch you some ice?”
“I don’t need anything. Don’t worry.”
The other boy got to his feet, studying the puddle his coat—so impossibly wet it was still dripping even now—had left behind. “On second thought…you got a towel?”
“Of course,” Toya promised, immeasurably glad to have something to do other than practice. “Please wait here for just a few moments.”
It took some time, but eventually Toya persuaded the stranger to sit down, take off his soaking coat (which was quite an arduous task) and have some hot chocolate. “You really ought to stay and dry off a little,” he warned as he hung the coat across his window. “Staying out too long in weather like this could make you sick, you know.”
“That only happens in bad romance novels,” the boy muttered.
“Eh? But Tsukasa told me the same thing a while ago…”
“...Maybe I’m remembering wrong.”
“What’s your name?” Toya asked curiously as the boy fiercely dried his hair with a towel he’d fetched from the bathroom, shaking it out and uselessly patting it down afterwards. “I’m Toya.”
“Akito,” was the short answer. “Listen, I don’t wanna overstay my welcome. Thanks for the chocolate, but I think I should go.”
“It’s still raining, though,” he protested. “Maybe you won’t get sick, but trying to climb over the wall when it's wet and dark is dangerous.”
“Look, I've done this a lot already. You don’t have to worry about me,” Akito said tiredly, setting the mug down. “And I don’t want to bother you.”
“It’s really no trouble. You could be hurt.”
Something like annoyance rippled across the other boy’s face. “Why don’t you just mind your own business already?”
…Ah. He’s upset.
Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed too hard.
But I don’t want him to leave just yet.
He could be hurt if he does, and…
I want to keep talking with him for just a little longer.
“I apologize. I know I’m being pushy,” Toya said at last. “But the rain should let up within the hour. I’m sure His Highness would want you to take care of yourself.”
Akito’s expression flickered and changed a few times before settling on something less vitriol. “Fine.”
He reluctantly settled on a nearby chair and picked up his mug again, taking a sip after blowing on it for a few seconds. Toya felt his shoulders loosen a little–there was no chance of the boy disappearing just yet.
“Did I interrupt your practice?” Akito asked after a moment or two. “You looked like you were playing when I came in.”
“Not really,” Toya admitted. “I needed a break, anyway.”
…How strange.
Just a few minutes ago he felt as though he was going to break apart into a million tiny pieces–and yet now he’d successfully distracted himself by playing host.
Well, best to ride the current while it still carried him forward.
“So…” he hedged. “Who’s the person my brother has been writing to, exactly?”
“Our dumbass prince,” Akito scoffed. “Looks like yours fell into our kingdom a while back, and ours helped him leave without trouble. They’ve been ‘repaying’ each other ever since.”
“I see. Are you a friend of His Highness, then?”
“Not really,” Akito said flatly. “I just deliver packages for him.”
“...Ah. I see.”
Drat. I can’t think about any conversation topics.
I wish I could ask Tsukasa for advice, but…
“So. You play the piano, right?” the other boy asked unexpectedly.
“Hm? Well…yes.”
Toya hesitated before asking, “Would you like me to play something?”
“If you don’t mind. You don’t have to play anything complicated, though. I don’t know any music.”
“Alright,” Toya said, easing down onto the bench. “It’s late, so shall I play something peaceful?”
“Whatever’s fine,” the other boy replied tonelessly, huddling slightly against the chair. Toya thought (though it was rather silly) he looked almost…small without his coat.
…It’s like a part of him is empty, or not there at all.
Toya couldn’t help but sympathize.
“Very well. This piece is called ‘Claire de Lune.’”
And so he set his hands down and began to play.
Oddly enough, it wasn’t as hard as it usually was. Why, he didn’t know–but there was a new feeling simmering inside him, one that bubbled cautiously with excitement.
He wanted to feel it more.
Toya took care to press all the right chords and touch the keys just delicately enough to make noise without letting the sound come on too strong. Of course, there were a few mistakes here and there, but it felt fine to ignore them just for tonight.
My father would be furious if he knew.
But I don’t care right now.
He let the final note fade out, finally taking his finger off the key and turning back to Akito. “I’m finished.”
“Dude, that was amazing,” the other boy sputtered, sitting up straighter than before. “You some kind of professional or something?”
His praise felt nice, but something in his chest tightened a little at the words.
…Why?
Shouldn’t this be what I want?
Toya decided to shelve the feeling for now. It would do him no good to dwell on it.
“I’m by no means professional, but my siblings do tell me I’m quite good,” he answered instead, trying for a smile. He had a feeling it looked stiff, though. “I’ve been playing for years.”
“That’s impressive. I think I’d get bored just trying to learn.”
“It can be rather boring.”
I’m somehow talking with him.
…Thank goodness. He looks a little less listless now.
I wonder if the same could be said for me.
“...Thanks,” Akito muttered out of nowhere, not meeting his eyes as he set his empty mug down.
“Ah…for what?”
“Eh. Nothing.” The other boy stared down at the coffee table, something Toya couldn’t read flickering to life on his face. “You didn’t have to play me anything, that’s all.”
“Well…I’m just glad it made you happy, I suppose.”
Akito chuckled a little. “Sheesh, you’re so polite. You’re making me look bad.”
“I’m–is that a joke?”
“Yeah, don’t worry. I wasn’t complaining or anything like that.”
Interesting. He’s smiling a little now.
I wish I could look that happy.
They sat together in peaceful quiet for another couple of hours, just listening to the rain pound against the windows. Normally Toya would’ve been tired at this point, but something about the company was nice.
Gradually the rain lessened, lightening until it was barely a drizzle. A rather childish part of Toya wished it could’ve continued just a little longer.
At last Akito got to his feet, tugging his coat off the curtain rod and shrugging it on. “The rain’s lightened a bit, so I’m gonna head back home,” he said with a faint smile. “Sorry for intruding so long.”
“It didn’t bother me, don’t worry,” Toya reassured him hastily. “Please take care, Akito.”
“You too, Toya.”
And just like the boy was gone, fading like a shadow into the rainy night.
Somehow Toya missed him already.
I should keep practicing. I didn’t play the song my father wanted me to play, so he’ll be displeased if he learns.
He hesitated, staring down at the piano before him.
The sight of the pristine white keys made his stomach churn.
…It’s late. I’m so tired.
I’ll just go to sleep.
Toya blew out the candles and fell into bed, Claire de Lune’s gentle notes circling around his head as he drifted off to sleep.
It didn’t make him as sick as it usually did, though.
Akito stared up at the ceiling, just thinking.
Last night had been a blur. He just barely remembered walking back along the wall, mind whirling too much to even consider following through with his plan. He hadn’t even committed to telling Rui to stop with the gifts–the prince had offered, apparently worried for some reason, but before he’d even realized what he was saying Akito had told him to keep sending them.
…Why did he offer to stop sending them, though?
And why did he look so worried?
The prince hadn’t really been worried about him, had he?
He’s so weird.
Dwelling on the whimsical prince of Vespera would do him no good, so Akito thought about Toya instead.
It was odd–he hated talking to people, or even just sitting still, and yet the time he’d spent with the other boy last night had been more peaceful than any moment he’d had in years.
Amazingly enough, he wanted to talk with him again.
But why?
I don’t usually feel this way about anyone.
I’ve not had a proper conversation with anyone other than Ena or Kamishiro in…forever. It’s all business with Kamishiro, too, and Ena and I don’t get along anymore.
…I thought I was ready to stop caring about everything for good.
What’s with this sudden change of heart?
After a moment Akito sat up, dragging himself out of bed and tugging on his coat.
I wonder, if I went to see him again…
Would he actually talk to me?
He moved slowly along the wall, for once more wary of the slippery spots for fear of falling.
Not for the first time Akito wished he didn’t have to sneak in at night–it was hard to see, and although his night vision was a little better than others he couldn’t help but worry that he might get lost. He barely even remembered the window Toya’s room had been in.
Still, though, he was determined to talk to him again, so he made his way to Tsukasa’s window and worked from there. Let me see…there was a piano.
Maybe if I listen I can find him.
Akito clambered into Tsukasa’s vent and went on the prowl, peeking cautiously out of every hole he saw. The prince’s chambers, the king’s office, the princess’s chambers…there!
He could already see Toya sitting at the piano, carefully pressing the keys in time to the silent beat in his head. Akito watched in awe for a moment, unable to even envision how he did it. It was a skill–or perhaps a talent–that he’d never had.
…The song he played last night was so beautiful.
I’ve only ever heard it once, but it’s been stuck in my head ever since.
I wonder if he would play it again if I asked.
Or maybe I could ask for something different.
He waited patiently for Toya to finish playing before rapping his knuckles against the vent. To his credit the other boy only flinched a little before looking up, a faint, startled tilt to his eyebrows. “Akito?”
“Hey,” he greeted, offering him a little wave. “Is anyone else around?”
“No, it’s only me. You just missed my father,” Toya reassured. “Did you forget something?”
“Just thought I’d pop in and talk a little. I’m bored.”
“...Oh. Let me fetch some tea, then.”
“You don’t have to,” Akito said hastily. “It’d be pretty rude to ask for that when I’m the one that showed up outta nowhere.”
It’s weird for me to care so much.
But I don’t want to bother him.
“No, but I’d like to,” Toya insisted. “It shouldn’t take long. I’ll be right back.”
Before Akito could say anything else he’d hurried away.
…Well, whatever.
Akito eased out of the vent and dropped to the floor, setting his boots carefully by the door so as not to track dirt anywhere. With nothing else to do he poked around the room, eventually stopping to press one of the piano’s many keys.
The sound it made was subtle yet powerful, and it sent an odd shiver down his spine. It’s so amazing.
And Toya can just play this?
…He’s a really hard worker, I bet.
“I’m back.”
Akito hastily took his hands away from the piano as Toya shut the door behind him, looking almost furtive. “My brother made cookies earlier, so I brought a few along,” he explained. “I hope you like them.”
Cookies made by that guy? Akito thought warily as he set the plate down. Well, I guess they smell alright.
“By the way, I haven’t told anyone about you, I promise,” Toya added. “I thought you might want to be kept secret for now.”
“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”
The quiet wore on again as they drank their tea (ordinary black sesame tea courtesy of Rui, apparently), and though it was a little awkward it felt comfortable.
How long has it been since I sat down like this?
I forgot how nice it was.
If he hadn’t stopped me last night, I…
Akito shuddered a little and banished the thought. He didn’t want to remember it–not now, when he was trying to soothe that prickly part of him that demanded…whatever this was.
…I should bring something next time.
Well, first–
“Hey,” he said aloud. “Would it be fine if I came back every now and then?”
Toya thought about it for a moment, expression painfully neutral. “I think…I wouldn’t mind that, no.”
“Are there any times I shouldn’t come?” he asked, choosing to believe the expression thing was just a weird quirk. “Like, when you’re hanging out with family?”
“Ten in the morning to lunchtime is practice, so you can’t see me then,” the other boy answered. “Then two in the afternoon to five, and…ah, six in the evening to ten.”
“...You really practice a lot, huh.”
Toya nodded, a flicker of something Akito didn’t recognize on his face. “Yes. I need to in order to become an even greater musician.”
He recited the words like it was some kind of marching order rather than a simple fact. It was honestly a little odd.
Still, though, Akito didn’t know him that well. Maybe this stiffness was just the way he was.
“That’s kinda cool,” he said instead. “You were really good last night.”
“Thank you.”
Toya brushed a few crumbs off his face, glancing back at the piano. “Would you like me to play something else?”
“Really? You don’t have to.”
“No worries. It’s good to challenge myself like this,” the other boy reassured him, getting to his feet and settling down at the piano. “Shall I play something different this time?”
Akito set down his plate and dragged his chair around with a sigh. “Yeah, go ahead.”
“Alright. This piece is one of Chopin’s Nocturnes,” Toya announced, setting the sheet music on the stand and stretching his hands a little “It’s Nocturne No. 20 in C# Minor.”
He watched almost eagerly as the other boy began to play, the music deceptively slow as it darted around the room. Akito found himself on the edge of his seat–what was it about this music that was so fascinating?
There was something oddly soothing about it, too.
It felt almost healing.
…So why doesn't Toya look happy?
Toya’s hands moved so carefully, so precisely, but there was a tiny crease in his brow obvious even to him as a sign of frustration.
He looks so stiff, like he’s just going through the motions.
Is it just his usual face?
Am I overthinking it?
Almost too soon it ended. “Wow,” Akito blurted out before he could stop himself. “You’re seriously good.”
Toya smiled a tiny bit at that. “Thank you.”
…I must be overthinking it.
I’ve only spoken to him a couple times, after all.
Not everyone’s like me.
It’d be nice to chat some more, at least…
Toya glanced up at the clock, frowning a little. “Ah, that’s right. I believe Tsukasa wanted to talk to me after lunch.”
“...Oh.”
Despite himself Akito couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit disappointed.
“Will you come again?” Toya asked. There was an odd note to his voice–perhaps it was the same disappointment (or maybe he was just crazy.) “It would be nice to talk to you again.”
“Of course,” Akito promised, getting to his feet and grabbing his shoes again. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
That tiny smile returned, a little more genuine than the last. “Thank you. I’ll see you again, Akito.”
“...Yeah, no problem.”
Akito was glad he’d come by, if only to distract himself just a little bit longer.
For the first time in ages it felt as though those twisted feelings weren’t boiling quite as much.
“That’s wrong. Again.”
Toya winced as his father turned the pages back, being careful not to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Your head has been in the clouds all day,” Harumichi snapped. “You’re meant to be focused on practice, not whatever’s got you so distracted.”
“You’re right. I apologize.”
“No apologies. Just start over from the top, now.”
“Right.”
He tentatively set his hands down again and began to play, forcing himself to slow down a little this time around. The song didn’t sound quite right, but it was better than missing a note (or three) again.
…Idiot.
I can’t afford to slip up like this.
He quickly turned the page as he repeatedly pressed two keys, eyes darting between the notes and the piano below him. He was almost done, he just had to–
–come on, play D maj–ah.
Toya flinched as his hand slid across the keys and came to rest on an unfortunate A note. Drat.
I was so close to finishing, and yet…
Harumichi sighed from somewhere behind him. “We’re stopping for tonight,” he said at last. “Don’t bother playing anymore until tomorrow. Your heart isn’t in it.”
“...Understood.”
His father left the room at last, almost slamming the door behind him.
Toya let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.
I let myself get distracted.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He carefully slid the sheet music back where it belonged and slowly closed the piano lid, breathing in and out to calm himself. I have been distracted lately. He’s right.
I can’t stop thinking about the next time Akito will visit.
It’s only been a few days, and yet…
It had only been two weeks, and he’d already made his first friend outside of the castle.
Akito had come by every day since that first night during the storm, sometimes even a few times a day. He’d brought over snacks (stolen from the Vespera kitchen), books (stolen from the Vespera library), and even things like flower seeds or flowers themselves (...stolen from the Vespera gardens.)
Already Toya had started looking forward to whenever he’d come by, but it had come at a cost–he couldn’t properly keep his focus on what was important, and he’d started to make more mistakes during practice.
…If I’m not careful…
My father will figure out what’s going on.
What will I do if he tells me to stop meeting Akito?
It was too horrible to even imagine.
I have to work harder.
If I fall behind it’s all over.
Toya hesitated in front of the piano–his father had told him not to bother playing any longer, and yet…
…No. I shouldn’t practice any more tonight.
I’m so tired.
I hope Akito comes early tomorrow.
I want to talk to him already.
He blew out the candles and crawled into bed, mind turning to Akito of its own volition.
I wonder if we could meet somewhere other than my room for once.
I brought up sneaking into the Vespera castle once, but Akito told me not to risk it. I suppose I’m more likely to get caught, anyway.
I wonder…I could invite him out into the gardens, perhaps?
…I’d have to be careful myself, though. If my father finds us…
Toya sighed quietly in the dark. I wish I didn’t have to worry like this.
I wish I had the freedom Akito did.
Being able to do whatever I wanted, whenever, without caring what people thought…
That would be nice.
The morning came, and Toya carried on with his day like normal. His mind kept drifting away, however, slipping away like a cloud whenever he tried to hold it in place–the last of his focus was dwindling.
He was quite positive Akito wasn’t the reason why.
D major, C minor and A sharp.
He played the sequence again, unable to bite back a growl as it eluded him once more.
D major, C minor and A sharp.
It should be easy. Why can’t I get it?
D major, C minor and A sharp.
Toya tried again, and again, and again, but it still wasn’t clicking. Why?
Why can’t I play?
Have I really just reached my limit?
He could feel his father’s gaze on the back of his head. “Why are you struggling with such an elementary sequence?”
“...I don’t know.”
I don’t want to play any longer.
Toya imagined that mountain again, trembling under the weight of these brand new, ever-repeating mistakes.
It’s finally beginning to collapse.
“Something is distracting you. What is it?”
“There’s nothing distracting me.”
“There is. You were normal until just recently,” Harumichi said coldly. “What is it?”
“I said it was nothing,” Toya snapped, for the first time looking up at his father. “I’m trying, Father.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, each one laced with tension.
It was hard, but he didn’t break eye contact even once.
“Try harder,” his father said at last, finally looking away to flip the music sheets back to page one. “We’re going an extra hour.”
Toya’s hands curled into fists. He hastily fixed them.
I can’t take this anymore.
I don’t want to play.
“...Hey, is it normal for you to go an hour longer?”
Toya chose not to meet Akito’s eyes, focusing instead on the tea he was pouring rather than the boy seated on the edge of the window. “It only happens occasionally. I was just having trouble with a part of the intro.”
“I’m just glad I looked outta the vent before I called out to you,” Akito groaned, leaning back dangerously far yet somehow not falling. “I could’ve gotten you in a ton of trouble.”
“No, don’t worry. I’d have been more worried about you,” Toya reassured him, finally looking up at him again. (It was harder than he would’ve liked–did Akito really have to act so dangerously???) “If my father knew we were meeting, he’d probably have you thrown either in the dungeons or out of the castle. Even if Tsukasa vouched for you, he’d likely still be furious with you.”
“So avoid him at all costs. Got it.” His friend reached for a cookie, popping it in his mouth. “Seriously, Toya, how do you put up with this?”
“...Classical music is my life.”
He focused on stirring a few cubes of sugar into Akito’s cup.
“I couldn’t bear to part with it after so long. Not when it’s shaped my whole world.”
Silence reigned over the room.
Those warm olive eyes dimmed slightly, or maybe it was just the light–but Toya thought Akito might’ve looked almost bitter.
“Yeah. I get that.”
They sat quietly and drank their tea for a few minutes, neither boy able to come up with anything to say.
I wish I could stop pretending already.
It’s obvious to all of us. Whether because I’ve exhausted myself or I’ve just lost love for the art, I can’t play the same way I always have.
But if I let go–if I decide once and for all to give up on classical music–
–there won’t be anything left to hold on to.
I don’t know what to do.
“...You alright?”
Toya took a deep breath and let it go.
“Would you like to visit our gardens?”
“This place really does look a lot like ours,” Akito commented as he dropped down from the wall, peeking through a tiny hole at the Vesperan garden beyond it.
“Does it really? I’ve not ever had the pleasure of visiting your kingdom, so I wouldn’t know,” Toya replied, keeping an eye out for soldiers while they walked. “Ah, Akito, have you ever tried a honeysuckle?”
The other boy wrinkled his nose. “You mean…the flower?”
“Yes. Tsukasa showed me–you drink the nectar like this.”
Toya wasn’t fond of the taste himself, but he willingly picked one of the blossoms to show Akito how to do it. The two stood there quietly fiddling with the flowers for a moment, Akito’s eyes lighting up in surprised pleasure. “This tastes really good.”
“Right? I thought it was fascinating when I was younger.”
“I wonder if I could have these grown over there,” Akito muttered, eyeing the bush. “Ugh, but I hate gardening…”
“Heh. Perhaps you’ll just have to visit our gardens more often.”
“I don’t mind as long as you don’t.”
They strolled along the path together for a few minutes until his friend inevitably broke the silence. “So…really, is everything alright, Toya?”
He couldn’t help but sigh. “I don’t know.
“I think…I think classical music is beginning to hurt me.” Toya glanced nervously at Akito, waiting for him to laugh, but the other boy did nothing, so he took a risk and forged ahead. “I’ve played almost every day of my life since I was five, and I’ve come so far from where I used to be. Tsukasa and Saki say I’m amazing, my mother says I’m almost as good as my father and brothers, and my father–he says I have so much potential.
“I don’t know how much longer I can take this. But…it seems a waste just to throw it all away.”
He kicked a stone down the path, unable to look at his friend. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“Why don’t you quit?”
Akito’s voice was calm enough, but there was an odd edge to it.
It made him wonder again what had happened to give it that tone.
“I can’t quit,” Toya mumbled at last. “I love it too much.”
At least…
I think I love it.
…I’m not sure anymore.
The thought alone was enough to terrify him.
“Haaaaaah…”
Akito stared out at the pale castle ahead, pulling his hood further over his head so as to block the drizzle falling down on him.
I can’t stop worrying about Toya.
He looks so frustrated lately. I can tell all too easily what he’s thinking for once.
If classical music hurts him that badly, I want to tell him to just quit, but…
He couldn’t help but grip his arms a little tighter.
You can’t just throw your only lifeline and hope to stay afloat.
I can’t just tell him to quit.
But what can he do?
Akito still remembered that day.
It had been raining then, too, forever staining his memories with a cold sense of surrender.
That day–back when he’d been just another foolish wannabe star–he’d learned that no matter how hard he worked, he would never be as passionate about his dream as those kids had been.
He tried over and over again to envision himself working as hard as those kids, tried to picture himself maybe one day shining with that grim determination. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t–and that was when he knew.
This path isn’t for me.
And maybe nothing else would be right.
He’d handed in his trainee’s uniform and sword the very next day, feeling as though the rain clung to his skin still. Every time it rained after that he remembered, and it was enough to send him into a frenzy.
Akito did his best to fill that void, but nothing even came close to replacing the art he’d devoted the best of his eleven years of life to. To give up at such a young age was “sad,” according to all the adults he knew, but he hardly cared.
He’d been torturing himself over it for five years.
He didn’t want the same for Toya.
But what if it’s the only thing he can do?
What if Toya has no choice but to quit?
…Would I be able to keep him from losing his mind?
Yeah, right.
As if Akito could be that important to someone.
“Hey, you.”
He jumped slightly at his sister’s voice, glad he wasn’t sitting as far out as he usually was. “Ugh. What do you want?”
“We’ve got a meeting coming up. Father told me to come get you,” Ena snapped, crossing her arms. “Why can’t you remember to come by yourself more?”
“I’m not the one who’s gonna be head of the family,” Akito retorted. “Why does it even matter whether I attend those stupid meetings or not?”
“‘Cause I’m sick and tired of going to them on my own, that’s why,” she snapped. “Also, what’s your obsession with sitting in windows all the time? You’re gonna fall out one day, dumbass!”
“So what?”
She stared at him, and Akito realized he’d slipped up.
“You’re gonna be late to your meeting,” he said quickly in hopes of deflecting. “You should go before Father gets mad.”
“...Hey,” Ena said slowly. “Are you…”
“Go. I mean it.”
“Ugh, fine! Whatever,” she huffed, finally turning around. “Jerk.”
Idiot.
Akito hugged his arms, wishing he could speak to Toya already.
Toya tried over and over again to picture a world without classical music.
It was immensely difficult. It had been woven into his life since he’d been a child–no, even before then. It had been beside him in the womb and throughout his earliest years on this lonely planet, that dreaded piano playing and playing for hours on end no matter where he was. Classical music had watched him grow up and firmly stayed at his side his whole life–rather like his father–
–it would be too hard to reject it now that he’d let it grow like a parasite inside of him.
But if he let this continue, it would kill him.
I don’t want to get up.
Toya hid below the covers, unable to keep his fingers from trembling as he heard the clock toll out the nine o’clock hour.
As long as I know what’s waiting for me, I don’t want to get up.
I don’t want to run away.
And yet–
…I wonder what Akito would do.
He’s always so calm, and doesn’t bend for anyone else.
I wonder if he would even let himself be stopped by this.
I wish I could be like him.
What could he do, though?
Toya wasn’t brave, or strong, or anything like that.
If only I was anyone else.
If only–
“Toya?”
He sat bolt upright in bed at the sound of Akito’s voice. His friend was hanging out of the vent, concern etched in those gray-green eyes. “Is everything alright?”
“No,” he mumbled, huddling into his quilt. “I don’t know.”
The other boy let go of the vent and hit the floor, springing to his feet again and hurrying over. “It’s almost practice time, right? Are you feeling bad?”
“...Yes. I don’t think I can do it.”
“Then tell your dad,” Akito said as though it was obvious. It both irked and pleased him for some reason. “He won’t get it ‘till you say it out loud.”
“But he won’t listen. I know he won’t.”
“Who cares? You’re suffocating yourself, Toya.”
Toya tugged at a loose thread in his quilt, not meeting his eyes.
“Hey. Look at me.”
Reluctantly he raised his head. Akito shuffled closer, eyes fixed on Toya’s face.
If he looked closer he thought he could see little embers dancing inside their hollow green.
“Only you can decide what’s best for yourself. No one else can do it for you,” his friend continued. “But I promise you, if you keep trying to fit under his thumb like this, you're going to die.”
“...He has so many expectations for me, and I have so much potential. He won’t be happy.”
“Screw what makes him happy,” Akito said harshly. “Does it make you happy?”
Toya shook his head. It was both freeing and terrifying to admit it at last.
“Then tell him. Or at least stop playing.” Those embers faded unexpectedly. “It doesn’t matter, really. Do whatever’s easiest for you.”
“I…I need some time,” Toya mumbled at last. “If I try to skip today, I don’t think I could go through with it.”
He glanced up at Akito again, nervous despite himself. “Will you watch?”
His friend–the label felt so natural despite the short time that had passed–nodded, a little smile playing at his lips. “Sure.”
Toya was sure that his father knew something was wrong, but he said nothing about it whatsoever. Practice continued as normal–meaning he made more mistakes. It was hard to care.
He took comfort in knowing Akito was lurking (a strong word, but the best one to describe the other boy’s habit) in the vents above, likely thinking up a few colorful expletives to call his father. He had to fight to keep a silly smile off his face from time to time, sure it would only irritate his father.
The morning ended at last, and Harumichi left without any further comment. Toya let go of a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding as Akito swung down from the vent, whistling in admiration. “I can’t believe you actually managed to pull through.”
“Hardly. That was the worst practice I’ve ever had,” he sighed. “Thank you for being there, Akito.”
“Hey, it’s nothing. I’m happy to help.”
Akito flopped back against the couch in the back of the roof, watching curiously as Toya rifled through his sheet music. “You’re playing more?”
“Yes. I was thinking of a song earlier, and I wanted to play it for you.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Akito’s brow furrowed. “You’ve spent all week telling me you’re sick of playing. You really want to play for me?”
“Yes.” Touching the keys sent shivers running up and down his spine, but there was a part of him that was determined to push through just a little longer. “I promise, it’s just for fun.”
“...If you say so.”
The other boy got comfortable, green eyes flitting between him and the door Harumichi had just left by. “Don’t hurt yourself, Toya.”
“I won’t,” Toya reassured him. “This piece is called ‘Ständchen.’”
“Oh, what’s that mean?”
“...I don’t remember.”
“Huh. Remind me to look it up when I get home.”
“I will,” Toya lied, sheepishly hoping Akito forgot.
The meaning of the song was…a little embarrassing in this context, after all.
Especially since he’d already admitted to wanting to play it for him.
Focus, Toya. Priorities.
He played as usual, taking more care than he had during practice to press the right keys. He already knew there was very little classical music in his future at this point, so to reclaim this last, tiny bit just for himself and Akito felt…nice.
Perhaps it was the meaning of the song putting things into his head, but Toya realized that the time spent with Akito had already become his most precious.
I hope this continues for a long time.
“So…are you gonna practice today?”
“No,” Toya said after a moment of thought. “I’ve considered it quite carefully, and I think…I think today’s the day I stop for good.”
Akito nodded sharply like he was satisfied. “What’s your plan?”
“Well…I’ll have to tell my father. I want to see if he’ll listen,” he admitted. “But even if he doesn’t, I think I’ll look for Tsukasa and talk to him about what I’ve done. I won’t tell him about you, don’t worry.”
“Appreciate it.”
Akito stretched a little, eyeing the clock as he asked, “What do you want me to do? I can watch over you from the vents like always while you talk to your father.”
“Thank you, really,” Toya said at last. “But I don’t think I need it today. I’d be worried about giving you away.”
He hesitated before asking, “But can we meet in the gardens in a couple hours?”
“Of course,” Akito promised, unexpectedly slinging his arm around his shoulders. “Good luck, Toya.”
The clock let out its usual chime, striking a perfect ten times. “That’s my cue. I’d better bounce,” his friend groaned. “Don’t let that old geezer put you down, got it?”
“I won’t,” Toya reassured him. Strangely enough, he meant it. “I’ll see you later, Akito.”
“See ya,” Akito said with a lazy wave as he clambered back into the vents. Toya listened closely and heard the tell-tale sounds of him leaving the room. Good.
No matter what happens…whatever Father says…I don’t want him to hear it.
I’ve done my best to keep him ignorant of our meetings, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Father knows more than he’s been letting on.
If he’s cruel to Akito…
A flicker of anger sparked inside of him, and Toya let it be.
I won’t let anyone blame Akito for my choices.
His father would likely be another couple of minutes, so Toya made his way to the window and stared at the sloping gray castle directly ahead. Akito lives somewhere over there.
I’d love to visit him sometime soon…I wonder if there’s a way I could.
Perhaps I could convince him to take me?
Ah, but it would involve walking along the wall for a short time. He shuddered despite himself. No, thank you.
…How does Akito do it, honestly? Especially in the rain like when we first met?
He’s unbelievably brave.
Toya longed to be that brave.
At last he heard footsteps coming from the hallway. He quickly stepped away from the window and stood in the middle of the room, hopefully fixing his face into a calmer expression as Harumichi opened the door, scowling like usual. “It’s time for practice.”
“I’m–I’m not doing it.”
The words hung briefly in the silence, dangling between them like some kind of knife.
His father stared at him with something like shock. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not practicing,” Toya repeated, forcing the words out despite their strange boldness. “Not today, not tomorrow, and not anymore. I’m…I’m done playing classical music.”
Harumichi’s expression went through several changes in the span of a single second. “You’re done–”
“Yes, and there’s nothing you can say that will stop me. So don’t bother. I’ve already made up my mind.”
“...Who put you up to this?”
“No one,” Toya lied, oddly glad for once to have so little flexibility in his tone. It would’ve surely given him away. “I’ve been feeling this way for a while, Father. I didn’t want to…to disappoint you, but…
“...I can’t play any longer.” His eyes prickled a little, and he swallowed past the lump in his throat in order to keep speaking. “I’ve tried so hard. I wanted so badly to learn more, to go as far as you wanted me to…but it’s too much. I feel as though I can hardly breathe.
“So…I can’t keep going. I’ve made my choice.”
There was a beat of silence, and for one foolish moment Toya hoped he would understand.
But Harumichi only shook his head, looking displeased. “So this is really as far as you can go?”
“...What?”
“You’ve spent years perfecting your playing,” his father said coldly. “You’ve dedicated your whole life to mastering this art. You’d really throw it all away for such a ridiculous reason?”
Something inside Toya snapped.
He really didn’t understand.
How he'd slaved away at this for years, wishing for an end the longer it dragged on…
How he’d looked down at the village children playing from his room, wishing he could join them…
How he’d felt as though the last of his soul was bleeding through the cracks of his shell even as he grew older and the music never stopped–
–how stupid could his father be?!
“What do you know?!”
Toya wasn’t sure who was more surprised when he yelled, himself or his father. “I just want to live my own life! I’ve always been trapped in this–this prison, and I just want to live without being tied down to it any longer!
“I don’t want to live like this any longer!”
He stormed outside past his father–who called his name as though to stop him in his tracks–but ignored him, finally done listening at last.
Toya made it as far as the dining hall before he was forced to sit, breathing as though he’d just run a marathon (which he could most definitely not do). I actually did it.
I told him.
What will happen from here on out?
Will he listen?
…Ha, as if.
He took a shaky breath, trying to get his head to stop spinning. Calm down.
I told him. That’s all that matters.
Whether or not he actually respects that is another problem for another time, but…even if he insists I practice, I don’t have to listen.
I don’t have to listen.
Toya let the thought sink in a little bit longer before getting to his feet again and making his way towards the kitchen in search of Tsukasa, a tiny skip in his step.
I’m free.