The Piano
Softly, in the dusk, a woman is singing to me;
Taking me back down the vista of years, till I see
A child sitting under the piano, in the boom of the tingling strings
And pressing the small, poised feet of a mother who smiles as she sings.
In spite of myself, the insidious mastery of song
Betrays me back, till the heart of me weeps to belong
To the old Sunday evenings at home, with winter outside
And hymns in the cosy parlour, the tinkling piano our guide.
So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.
My Piano.
I sat at my piano. It belonged to my father but it was mine. I was the only one who ever played it. Well, except for Izzy. But she was a special exception because she was my student and because she was my best friend. My only friend. But right now I was angry with her. She was late. Again. Nearly every day she was late. There would always be some stupid excuse. 'oh I saw a kitten.' 'I felt hungry.' sometimes she just didn't even try 'I'm just late.'
today was bringing being late to a whole new level though. Pretty soon the lesson would be over. I'd been giving her lessons for 5 months now. She never seemed to concentrate on the music. She would rather just play. She was younger than me. Just by a year but at that time I felt it meant so much more. She was the immature, annoying 5 year old and I was the mature, sophisticated 6 year old.
I heard the door open and turned to scowl at her. But she wasn't there. Instead Giovanni, her personal bodyguard/glorified nanny, was standing in the doorway.
"Ah, master Hayato, I'm sorry for arriving so late but Isabella has taken ill."
"She has a cold so she ditched me? Tch, why doesn't that surprise me?"
"Ah, please, she's been asking for you. She wont stay in bed and rest. Please?"
"Fine. I can shout at her in person."
And off we went to the Bugiardini Mansion.
Giovanni went into the room, the second he stepped through the door, he rushed immediately to her
"Isabella! Please, you're ill, get back into bed."
I heard her fighting him before I poked my head around the door
"No... I gotta see Haya..." she protested, helplessly.
I walked into the room. Giovanni was carrying Izzy carefully. She looked so frail, her dirty blonde hair was limp and messy, her skin was pale from sickness, her sparkling eyes were gloomy, but she was fighting back against him with all of her tiny strength.
"Papan, please..." she begged with a hoarse voice.
"Don't call me that. What if your father hears?" he whispered, sitting her on the bed. She grabbed his sleeve
"But I want Hayato... please?"
She looked like she was about to burst into tears.
"I'm here." I called out to her softly. That one surprised me, I never did anything less than explosively.
The second she saw me, it was like her world lit up.
"Haya!" she cried out, her voice filled with pure joy and glee. She tried to get up but struggled with the covers. When did I become so important to her?
"Stupid." I rolled my eyes, pushing her back into the bed. I kicked off my shoes and climbed beside her, pulling the covers over both of us. "Go to sleep. You have to rest."
When did she become so important to me?
"M'kay." she mumbled snuggling closer to me. Okay, I'll admit. She was cute. And lying next to me, that's when I decided she was mine. Little did I know, she had decided I was hers, months before.
Our Piano.
Izzy had been spewing all morning. This was Yamamoto's fault I was sure. We ate at his Dad's restaurant last night so it had to be food poisoning.
"Oh God, I think I'm dying." I heard her mumble from the bathroom
"Again?"
"Yeah. I think Yama's dad gave me food poisoning."
The Tenth is gonna hear about this! Izzy hates being sick, more than anything and what she hates, I protect her from.
"You want me to reprimand him for it?" I asked, getting my phone out ready
"Yes, kill him, please." I heard her call out. I'm pretty sure she wasn't serious but no one hurts my wife. No one. I pressed speed dial 3, Tenth being 2 and Izzy being 1. He picked up the phone and before he could say two words I told him straight-
"Yamamoto, your dad gave Izzy food poisoning."
"What? No he didn't." He would say that, wouldn't he?
"Yes he did. It's all she had last night and she's been spewing all morning."
I heard him call out the accusation to who I assume was his father. Then I heard a whooshing noise and muffled speech.
"What's that noise?" I asked angrily.
He laughed weakly
"Ah, my dad threw a few dozen knives at the phone. He says there's no way he gave her food poisoning, he's too good a chef."
Tch.
"I don't care how good a chef he says he is, he gave Izzy food poisoning!"
He paused for a moment
"My dad says, does she have an aura?"
I leant my head round the door. Izzy was slumped against the wall. She was trembling slightly and looked really pathetic, but she did seem kind of... luminescent.
"I dunno, kinda."
Another pause.
"He says... have you two... y'know, been using... protection?"
What. The. Fuck.
"That's none of your or your dads business!" I shouted back.
"He says, maybe she's pregnant!" I looked at Izzy again. Pregnant?
"Uh... I'll call you back." I hung up and put my phone down. Izzy looked up at me.
"Haya? What is it?"
I crouched next to her.
"A-are you... pregnant?" I stuttered quietly
"Pregnant?" she looked at me incredulously. A smile stretched across her lips seconds before she started roaring with laughter. If she thought something was rediculous, she wouldn't hold back on her response. Sometimes she was honest to a fault. She kept laughing, tears began to fall from her eyes, when she stopped suddenly. Her face became suddenly serious as a thought hit her. She looked at me with wide eyes "Oh God!" she shouted dramatically.
"I take that as a yes?"
Their Piano.
I shuffled my feet along the floor, two small bodies weighing down my legs.
"Papan! Dont go!" the voice on the right ordered.
"Yeah! Maman always gets sad when you go!" the voice on the left tried to sway.
That's how they were, one would demand, the other would persuade. Much like me and Izzy. I would demand, she would persuade.
"So do we!" the right backed up his brother.
"Papan!" the left cried out.
"Boys, leave your Papan alone." came the voice of my loving wife behind us.
"But Maman!" the left voice wheedled dramatically.
"Enough. You know he has work to do."
"Fine." they answered together.
The weights let go and stood in front of me. My two boys, 6 years old, and perfect mirror images of each other. Their fluffy hair, soft as their mother's, spiralled from their crowns in opposite directions, adding to their reflected look.
"But one song?" Alcide asked, with his mother's puppy dog pout.
"Just one?" Izzy joined in, wrapping her arms around my chest from behind and holding herself close.
"Come on, Papan." Adamo scowled "Man up, play the song."
I heard Izzy chuckle into the side of my neck.
"Tch, fine." I answered, mirroring my son's scowl.
The second I broke down and agreed, Izzy dragged me to the piano. For being so sick as a child, she was freakishly strong. We sat down at the piano.
I played the usual, Con te Partiro, the very first song I taught to Izzy. She drifted in and out, playing whatever notes she felt like playing, rather than the correct ones.
"Maman, you're playing the wrong notes." Adamo complained honestly.
She grinned down at him
"Don't gotta play the notes. Just gotta play the feeling."
"But-"
"Let it go, boys. She hasn't gotten any better since she was five." I advised. It had taken her years but eventually her free spirit attitude had worn me down and I gave up on her ever playing the right notes.
"Yes I have. I'm loads better since I was five." she pouted.
I rolled my eyes and looked at her, playing purely from feel and instinct
"I meant at the piano."
"Oh. Yeah, I still suck at that." she smiled, completely unconcerned and going back to striking whatever keys took her fancy.
I played the last few notes and turned to my family
"Songs over. Now can I go?"
Adamo and Alcide jumped to their feet
"Sure. We gotta go meet the guys too." they smiled, speaking in unison before running off to meet their friends.
Izzy smiled proudly, watching them run off. She turned to me and kissed me sweetly
"Bye sweetie. Good luck." she whispered as she stood.
"Who needs it?" I called back to her, watching as she followed after our boys.
I rested my hand on the piano lovingly
"If it wasn't for you, I'd never have had all this." I smiled, grateful for all I had.
A loud crash echoed through the halls.
"Boys!" I scolded, yelling down the corridor.
"It was Maman!" Alcide replied.
"Sorry!" she shouted to me.
I sighed and looked down at the piano.
"Tch, thanks."
I know it's really not relevant but I swear to God, Tobi/Madara is not Madara! He is Obito! ...just a prediction...
Please Review. Reviews = Love
xx KissMeQuack
