I love the song "Piano Man" by Billy Joel. There is an atmosphere there that suggests a vibrant world.

I wanted to take that atmosphere, the ideas, and write a fanfiction loosely based on "Piano Man." That is how "Piano Mon" was born.

Since the characters are not really explained in full in the story, I'll write them here. Our narrator is a Lucario named Bill. Davy is a Feraligatr. Paul is a Sandslash. Estelle is a Gardevoir, and John is a Monferno. Lilia is, of course, a Lopunny.

The original version of this story featured two fellows named Bakon and Krowck. They were portrayed as the general slime you'll find in any film noir or detective story. Their behavior was, I felt, inappropriate, so when I had the chance to write the definitive version, I chose to change things up.

Here it is, my friends.

PIANO MON

The Café Na Rigara is a throwback to simpler times. I should know. After all, I'm the pianist there. You've heard the song "Piano Man" by that human musician, Billy Joel? Well, that's what I do. Play the piano and give the patrons something to pay attention to other than life. Here, we have old songs, good stories, and fine drinks. We also have other things. Listen to this story, and you'll see what else there is.

As I launch into the chorus of a song, the door to the Café Na Rigara opens. I glance at it, wondering if Davy is heading off. He usually never leaves without leaving behind a twenty. But it's not the melancholy Feraligatr I see heading out. Instead, I see a female Lopunny letting the door close behind her. She's got beautiful lashes, graceful legs, and a lithe stride. Around her neck is a University scarf.

Under her right arm, she carries a notebook. I watch as she places it on an empty table, and I wonder who this lady might be. There's no need to look at the piano; I know this piece by heart.

The hostess, Estelle, starts speaking with the Lopunny. I don't manage to catch any words, but Estelle leaves and comes back with a cheri au lait. The Lopunny seems to thank Estelle, then opens her notebook and begins writing in it. The hostess lets her be, retreating back to the bar and the bartender, John.

I finish the song and begin a new one. As I switch the music, I hear the door open once more. I see the Lopunny walking down Central, holding the notebook under her arm. She's left, and I figure I'll never see her again.

It's the next day, the day after that Lopunny showed up at the Café. I'm on break, sitting at the bar on a stool. In front of me is an oran juice. Estelle is taking care of the patrons. Davy's next to me, chatting with John. What they're talking about escapes me.

At that moment, the door to the Café opens. Out of habit, I look over my shoulder. To my surprise, it's that Lopunny again. She sits down at the same table as yesterday. Estelle goes to take her order, which is once again a cheri au lait. I know because Estelle comes out from the back holding one.

I turn back to the bar and interrupt John and Davy's conversation. John always knows what happens in his Café. "John," I say. "Who is that Lopunny?"

John picks a glass up and begins wiping it out. With his tail, he points at the Lopunny. "Her? She's a drama student down at the University. Old Finn gave the whole department an assignment to find a place that would make a good setting for a theatric production. She picked us, down here. Finn told me that he wants to produce her script she's making."

"What's her name?" I ask.

"Lilia," Estelle answers as she passes Davy and me.

Lilia. I think that is the most beautiful name I have ever heard.

Lilia's become a regular at the Café. She comes in at five, just like clockwork. Always carrying that notebook, always ordering the same cheri au lait, always scribbling away while sipping her drink. Often she chats with Paul, our resident novelist. Sometimes she talks with Davy, and sometimes it's with John. I wonder when she'll come up here where I sit.

It finally happens, two weeks after her first appearance. Her script has been picked up by Pokewood Films, and Old Finn is going to be able to direct. John managed to get a good glance at it one day. He says it's an incredible piece of work.

As I croon the final words in this song, Lilia picks up her notebook and drink and makes her way over to me. I notice because I watch her every day, considering what the likelihood is of my being in her script. She's become a sort of obsession with me. Davy says that's what love is. Paul and John agree. Me? I'm not so sure.

Lilia pulls a chair up to my piano and puts her drink down on top of it. Inside, I wince, but I let it go. She opens her notebook clicks her pen open, and looks up at me.

This is the first time I've seen her face up close and, more to the point, her eyes. I'm instantly mesmerized. Her eyes are deep forest green, a green I've only seen in dreams. It's a bit cliché, but I feel as though I'll get lost in those eyes.

I realize she's speaking to me, and with an effort I'm able to catch the conversation. "-been the pianist here?"

Her voice is a siren song, but I manage to stay sufficiently lucid. "For a while, yes," I respond. "I've been here for… twenty years this summer."

Lilia's eyes widen. I think it makes her prettier. "Why are you still here?" she asks. "Surely one with your talent could get a position with the City Orchestra?"

I laugh. "Yes, that's true. I've been offered a position with the Orchestra a few times. I turned them down, though." I look out over the Café. "I love the Na Rigara. This is my second home." I look at Lilia. "I wouldn't trade this for anything."

She seems to think about that for a moment, brow furrowed. It makes me smile. Lilia looks up at the Café. "I can understand," she says. "It's become a sort of second home for me, too."

After that day, Lilia takes time to talk with me every day. We talk about many things. She asks me questions, and I ask her questions in return. I get to see her script, and I can understand why it's in high demand. Some days we go and walk around the Square. I'm pretty sure I'm in love.

One day, Lilia shows up a half hour earlier than she usually does. She comes straight to where I'm sitting at the bar with Davy, Paul, and John. Estelle comes over to take her order, and to our surprise Lilia asks for a smoothie- an oran smoothie, to be precise. Estelle brings her the smoothie, and after a few long draws from the straw, Lilia turns to me.

"Bill," she says in a very strange voice. It sounds strained, stressed. "Can I talk with you?"

"Of course," I reply, bewildered. She's never needed permission before.

"A while ago I borrowed some money from Dyan Fletchback." In the background, Davy groans. "I promised that I'd pay him back, but I'm overdue. I've tried to get the contract extended, with added interest, but he won't budge. I think he's sent two of his thugs- a Blaziken and an Emboar- to collect whatever payment is available. I need help, Bill."

I glance at John. He nods imperceptibly. "Don't worry," I tell Lilia. "We'll take care of you."

It's nine o'clock. Something about nine has always set me on edge. I don't know what it is, but it seems as though bad things happen at nine.

John, Paul, Davy, Estelle and I are walking with Lilia. It was going to be only Davy and me, but somehow John convinced us to take everyone. I appreciate it now; there's safety in numbers.

We near an alley and two shadows come out. The shadows step into a pool of light cast by a nearby streetlight, and two vicious characters are revealed. One is an Emboar. The Emboar only has one eye. The other is a Blaziken with a wicked scar on his face. Paul steps up.

"Let us by." Paul's voice is laden with authority, earned from thirteen years in the Veteran Corps. The thugs don't let us through.

"Ey, Bakon, that little porcupine's trying to order us around," the Blaziken sniggers.

"Mebbe 'e thinks 'e's big an' bad, Krowck," the Emboar grunts. Paul opens his mouth to say something, but Bakon backhands him into a wall. He doesn't get up.

"Ey, bunny girl," Krowck says. "Dyan's rather unhappy with yer failure to pay the bargain."

"Leave those 'ardnoses, bunny girl, an' come quietly." Bakon spits into the street. He starts walking toward Lilia with a slightly drunken stagger. Estelle steps in front of Lilia, but Bakon picks up Estelle and tosses her aside. She hits the ground like a rag doll and stays there. As the Emboar reaches for Lilia, something snaps. I grab the pig's arm and throw him to the ground. Then I step forward, hiding Lilia from the two goons.

"Don't touch Lilia," I growl. Krowck helps Bakon up. The Emboar put a ham-like fist to his head, feeling the bump. I give John and Davy a look that they understand. I want to deal with this myself.

"Oh, you shouldn't 'ave done, aura-boy," the Emboar growls. I'm suddenly aware of the disadvantage I'm at. Yet, as the thugs come toward me, I forget everything except that they tried to hurt Lilia.

I dodge two punches, then rush in to jab each in the gut. They flail like beached fish, but never make contact. I duck and weave, taking opportunities to punch and kick whenever I can. I go faster and faster. Soon I find myself snarling, "You tried to hurt MY LILIA!"

The thugs begin to retreat, and I follow, making sure they know that they tried to mess with the wrong girl. Finally, John and Davy lunge at me and knock me to the ground. I'm brought back to my senses. I look up and see Paul running after the two thugs. He has the bundle of money we put together for Lilia in his claws.

"Are you okay, Bill?" Davy asks.

I shake my head, trying to clear it completely. "You were going to murder those two," John put in.

"Thanks," I'm finally able to say. They get off of me. I push myself to my feet.

"Thank you, Bill," a voice says from behind me. I turn around to find Lilia smiling at me. The smile makes me feel woozy.

Once Estelle wakes up and Paul comes back, we walk Lilia the rest of the way home. On her doorstep, Estelle says her goodnights, then Paul, then John, then Davy, and they all leave. Only I'm left, feeling awkward. I have no idea what to say.

Lilia puts her paw under my chin and lifts my head. "What you did for me," she begins, "is more than I can say thank you for." Lilia leans in, and to my utter surprise, she kisses me.

I get over my initial shock quickly. As the kiss lingers, I slip my paw into hers. She grips it tightly. All seems right with the world, especially now, at nine thirty.

Hours later, though it was probably only a few seconds later, we break apart. Lilia smiles at me again, opens her door, and goes inside. I stand on her step for a few moments, then head home. I'm walking on air.

It's about a year later. Through a lovely cliché, Lilia and I are together and married. But things haven't really changed. The Café Na Rigara is still a simple place. Lilia's still coming to the Café, I'm still playing the piano, and Davy's still with the Naval Corps.

Go ahead, come on by. See what I've told you about for yourself. The Café Na Rigara isn't going anywhere anytime soon. You're welcome here, as long as you don't mind old songs, good stories, and fine drink. Who knows? Maybe you'll find love here, just like I did.