Hands are simply placed over ivory keys, refusing to press down and make a sound. The pianist wants to, he really does. It's in his blood, his very nature to give life to such beautiful music. Shindou could easily recall the sounds each key could make, how when put together it would make a string of notes echo throughout this room, his home.
Fingers begin to twitch, his hand begins to shake and he has to pull his hand away from the instrument. His hand doesn't stop moving, it shakes, twitches, even when his other hand holds it. It can't remain still, it's restless, almost as if it were itching to play those familiar notes.
And yet, they couldn't.
There was an accident, one that had left his fingers- hand damaged. He could clearly recall the pain that scorched through his fingers, sometimes he could still feel it. And it made him recall how he had cried out for help, having the fear and panic course through his entire being. Even after the surgery had taken place, he hadn't settled down.
His hand would be fine, it wasn't permanently scarred (even if he believed it felt like they were). It needed time to recover but in the meantime his hand would occasionally twitch. The feeling would be gone in a couple of months and it would be like this never happened. His career wasn't over, this was just a small break, as the doctor had said.
Since then, Shindou had yet to try and actually play the piano. He wanted to, fingers always looming over the instrument. Sometimes he'd let them hover over it, recalling each note and playing the song in his head. It was fun, put his worries at ease until a key had been pressed during his mental playthrough, a wrong key. The error had echoed throughout the room.
He hadn't tried that practice again.
The door to his room opens and closes. The pianist doesn't need to look to know who it is. He's already familiar with the sound of those footsteps. Besides, there was only one other person he lived with.
"You doing alright?" Tsurugi asks as he steps to the pianist's side, eyes keeping on Shindou's slouched figure.
"Yeah, just fine." His tone is sharp in his muttered response. He hadn't meant to snap at him. He was frustrated at himself, with everything. Maybe he was overreacting, overthinking about all this. In less than a month, he'd be able to play once more. His hands wouldn't be twitchy, things would go back to normal. For now, everything was just wrong.
It didn't help that thoughts of his hand never healing would slither into his mind. What if he could no longer properly play the music he loved? What if his hand would revert after it had healed? What if, just- what if it all came true?
Shindou feels a hand on his shoulder, causing his head to look up and brown eyes meet with orange. It was hard to tell how the other felt with that neutral expression, but Shindou had begun to notice that his eyes always held more feeling than he'd show, most of the times. Those sharp eyes of his were touched with concern, worry, possibly more.
"You will be," he says, eyes never tearing away from Shindou's.
Tsurugi moves to sit beside him, taking his hand off the pianist's shoulder. He goes quiet, gazing downward. "You remember your leg, right?"
A look of confusion passes on Shindou's features, it takes a moment before he nods. "Of course I do. How could I forget that?"
It was during such a crucial moment in their past. When their old soccer team had needed him most. Shindou had played his hardest and yet had to miss the final match. He had been disappointed in himself for letting such a thing happen, but was glad he could still support his team. Watching them pull through and win in the end had lifted his spirits. But, he'd never forget the time being forced into the hospital, staying there and constantly having to deal with his injury.
"Think of this like that time. Just as your leg healed, so will your hand."
"It's different this time," Shindou replies. "It's not the same bone structure and this- this..." He couldn't find the right words. It just didn't feel the same, he couldn't explain why. The only thing he could do was turn that injured hand into a fist. It stung. He shouldn't have done that.
Tsurugi glances over to him for a moment, watching his movement, his pain. Shindou wasn't the only one being hurt by the injury he sustained.
"You're strong," he starts as he gets to his feet. He walks over, stands in front of Shindou. He looks down to the other before slowly getting to his knees. "I know you'll recover."
A pale hand reaches out, touching the injured one. He waits for permission, Shindou's hand loosing it's built up tension. It still shakes slightly, but Tsurugi tries to calm it, taking it into his and gliding his thumb to soothe him. He pulls Shindou's hand close while he leans forward and places his lips upon a finger. Then the next. And the next. He kisses each and every one, making sure to kiss the back of his hand last.
It's a sweet gesture that manages to work magic on the pianist. He's not as frustrated, not so bothered. He can still touch and feel; it really wasn't the end of the world.
"You promised you'd play a song for me, so they have to whether they like it or not."
The comment breaks Shindou's already weakening frown. It makes a small smile form, makes him let out a slight chuckle as he shakes his head.
"I intend to keep my promises, you know that."
Tsurugi smiles upon hearing that. He'd lost the bitterness in his tone and he was proud to have been able to lighten his mood once more.