Fingers splayed over the piano as if she truly knew what she was doing as she leaned forward and delicately let her fingers trace out the notes, the piano opening it's sound to her like a rose petal reveals its flowers.

She's isn't quite sure what tugs her forward, what makes her fingers willingly dance across the keys despite not being trained in this in the least, but she likes it. Letting her fingers flow over the keys is so unlike letting her hands guide a violin in a steady, delicate pace, so unlike letting that music seep into her and transform her under its spell and yet this warps a part of her too.

Juleka likes the sound that her fingers draw out, whether its a deep rumble of some low notes, or the high pitched wail of the notes at the end. She knows more than anyone that this is an experiment, almost of will, and all that she wants to do is trace the beautiful sounds out of the instrument and follow its beats down a path that only the piano can take her.

Juleka loves music, loves the varying sounds of instruments around her, and in a way, that comes with her family, it comes with her namesake. Before her mother was Akumatized and even after, she's always been a musician, and with that came Luka, following with the thrum of guitar strings.

She counted herself different though. Luka heard songs like heartbeats to his ears, memorize the chords as if they were the steady thrumming of his heart in his chest, but Juleka couldn't call music her heartbeat in the way that Luka could.

Her fingers followed the keys down an unfamiliar path as she considered what she'd be if her brother was the heartbeat, she'd be puddle warped by the rain, the musician transformed by their instrument, where Luka follows what he hears from the people around him, especially himself, Juleka follows the instrument. The piano guides her on an unfamiliar trail, and she doesn't want to lose sight of it as her head gently bobs to the beat, as her eyes close to absorb the sound, fingers stumbling across the piano every once and while, though usually they follow the rhythm that the piano lays bare to her.

Juleka doesn't mind even as she pulls back with a bright smile and as her mind flutters away, lost in some land that the piano had taken her to and left her behind at, and though she's not a pianist, never had any formal lessons, a part of her heart will remain with the piano that just shared a breathtaking tune with her, one that isn't complex or perfect, just enough.