Haru wandered along the little used park path, heading to her usual bench to play her flute in peace. Her mother was working on a new quilt pattern and had kicked her out of the house because she couldn't concentrate while Haru was practicing. Haru didn't mind. It was a lovely day out and the weather was just right. She grinned and took in a lungful of the sweet spring air. Perfect. Haru had a feeling that her day could only improve.
Humming a bright tune, she continued down the path that lead to her normal spot in the park. She had been nearly there when she thought that she'd heard a violin. It had been very faint, but still… It had been very well played.
With a pricked curiosity and a thoughtful frown Haru adjusted her bag so that it sat more firmly on her shoulder and headed in the direction she thought it had come from. There was a slight problem with this, though. Said direction involved leaving the path and fighting her way through some of the more persistent undergrowth as well as a few thorn bushes that had been given free reign. As Haru quickly discovered.
"Ouch! Stupid thorns…" Haru hissed as she gained yet another collection of scratches, courtesy of another bush. She was so glad that she hadn't worn a skirt today; it would have been in pieces by now. Haru paused again and listened for moment. She frowned, the sound had changed directions again.
It had been doing this constantly since Haru had started following it, as well as taking her through the wildest patches of underbrush it could find. It was as if something was deliberately trying to discourage her. Or attempting get her so helplessly lost she'd never find it. But for all this, Haru felt like she was getting closer to the music's source.
After fighting her way through some particularly dense and tricky thorn bushes, Haru was surprised to discover an overgrown path that looked as if it hadn't been used it in years. On either side of it ancient trees crowded together barely letting in the sun; giving the trail a private, secluded feeling. The leaves of the trees seemed to rustle and whisper, she's here, someone's coming. beware. While in the background the violin's melody soared, a perfect counterpoint to the tree's whispering.
"This is really weird…" Haru muttered to herself, as a shiver worked its way down her spine. Eyeing the path cautiously, she followed it, with the music gently pulling her onward as it grew louder with every step.
Gradually, the trail became wider and the trees started to grow further apart, lessening the trail's slightly gloomy air. Haru wasn't sure how long she'd been following the path, but it felt like it had been hours.
Eventually, Haru came to a bright sunny clearing. She stopped at the edge of it, staring in awe. The meadow was amazingly beautiful; vibrant flowers were everywhere, covering the meadow like some kind of exotic carpeting. The only part of the meadow not covered in flowers was near an oak that towered over the grove like some kind of ancient guardian. While the sun shone gently down through the green leaves of the surrounding trees, adding a peaceful feel to the grove. Haru felt instantly relaxed and, for some reason, safe. It was a like scene from a particularly good dream.
It was then that she finally saw the source of the music. Leaning against a large oak tree was a cat figurine playing a violin. It appeared to be dressed like an old-fashioned English gentleman in a well-tailored grey suit. It even had a top hat the same color as its suit. She took an unconscious step forward then quickly moved back until she was pressed against a tree, clutching the strap of her bag tightly.
"What the…" Haru couldn't believe her eyes. What she was seeing was impossible… wasn't it?
"Alright. That's it. No more late night cramming for me." She muttered. "I will close my eyes and when I open them that violin playing cat will be gone."
She closed her eyes.
She opened her eyes.
It was still there…
Her idea hadn't worked. She considered trying it again, but decided against it. If it hadn't worked the first time, it probably wouldn't work at all.
Haru looked at the figurine, noticing that it had stopped playing. It appeared to have noticed her standing there. She sighed. "I always knew I'd go crazy one day. I just never expected it to be so soon…"
The figurine carefully placed its violin on the ground and stood, brushing off its formal gray slacks. "I'd like to assure you that you haven't gone mad, Miss…" He, with that voice it was definitely a he, paused, looking at her expectantly.
"Ah… Haru. Haru Yoshioka." Haru stuttered, surprised that he was even asking for her name and inwardly laughing that a cat wearing a top-hat was assuring her of her sanity.
"Thank you, Miss. Yoshioka." He seemed to smile before continuing, "My name is Baron Humbert von Gikkingen, and it is a pleasure to meet you."
&
Baron looked at Miss. Yoshioka, expecting her to reply. What he did not expect was for her to vehemently mutter, "This is insane!" and take off in the direction that'd she'd come from. He blinked, feeling just a tad offended at the speed that she'd used.
"Well, I wasn't quite expecting that to happen…" He muttered.
One of the larger trees in the grove was shaking, almost as if it was doubled over, having a great laugh at something particularly amusing.
"Surely I'm not that startling?" Baron asked the laughing oak he'd been leaning against before Miss. Yoshioka had made her appearance.
"Of course not, Baron." Louise assured, still laughing furiously. Normally the female population had a tendency to run toward, not away, from the gentleman Creation. "As long as she doesn't know how you sounded on that thing of yours when you first got it."
Baron grinned slightly, Miss. Yoshioka forgotten in favor of a decades long argument. "Oh, really, Louise? And I suppose you would have done better in my place?"
"Infinitely." The tree sniffed, her giggle fit subsiding.
Now I believe explanations are in order concerning Baron's abilities, as well as just what he is. Baron is a Creation, a literally living work of art. Creations occur whenever someone puts all of their heart, soul and belief in the fantastic into their work. As you can suppose, this makes them extremely rare, for this reason the few that exist are jealously guarded, or sought after. Each Creation is given three gifts to help them make their way in this world. One of Baron's gifts is the ability to communicate with trees. But now, we really should return to the story.
"What about-"
"Face it Baron, you still have nothing to beat the time when I lost half my spring leaves because of that dratted thing." Louise smirked triumphantly.
"Fine. I will admit to being responsible for that unfortunate incident-"
"Thirty years after said 'unfortunate' incident."
Baron continued as if Louise hadn't said anything, "But you must admit that you enjoy my playing now."
"I don't have to admit to anything." The oak grinned and changed the subject. "That Haru girl plays the flute, you know."
"Really?" Baron asked politely, still a bit miffed that she'd ran, "Is she any good?"
"According to Mayu, one the sakura trees down the way, she's not bad. Through she needs some more practice to be really good. Coming from Mayu, that's high praise."
One of Baron's ears twitched, a sure sign that he was interested, "That is intriguing… I wonder if she'll come back?" Though he knew the odds were highly unlikely, he still found himself hoping that Miss. Yoshioka would. It had been a very long time since he'd had anyone new to share his music with.
"She might. She might not. You know how humans are." The tree shrugged, leaves rustling rhythmically. "So what is that piggy cat of yours up to nowadays?"
" Oh, the usual. Eating, sleeping and arguing with Toto non-stop." Baron sighed, exasperatedly, at the last. "You would think after five years that they'd be able to come up better insults at least!"
Louise smiled to herself, glad to have given Baron a distraction; the poor dear hadn't had any cases in such a long time.
&
Haru leaned against her front gate and let herself slid to the ground, trying to pull breath back into her lungs. She'd ran the five blocks from the park at full speed without stopping and had barely slowed down for any of it. The end result of this was that she couldn't move for next five minutes, exhausted and unable to think.
When she was able to move again, Haru pulled herself to her feet and went inside. Tiredly she slipped off her shoes and called an "I'm home!" to her mum, though she probably hadn't heard it. Not much got through to her when she was quilting. Haru trudged upstairs and collapsed on her bed.
"What weird day…"
A white cat poked her head out from under the bed, her head cocked inquisitively. "Must have been a really weird one for you to land on the bed that hard." She slid out from under the bed and started to clean herself up.
Haru sat up and smiled apologetically "Sorry 'bout that, Yuki. I forgot you were under there."
"It's alright, Haru." Yuki paused and jumped onto the bed. "But I'll only forgive completely you if you brush out my fur. Besides, you still owe me for the last time." She grinned.
Haru smiled, rolling her eyes as she reached for the brush. "Alright, Mistress Vanity."
"I'll have you know that I- oh, that feels nice… " Yuki purred, stretching and arching into the brush.
Haru giggled at the sight of her friend acting so undignified, not even catnip could get her like this.
"Laugh if you want, Haru but you don't know what you're missing." The white cat was purring puddle by now.
"Of course I don't."
"You really don't, oh never mind." Yuki was enjoying this far too much to argue. "So, tell me about this weird day of yours."
So Haru explained about the violin that she'd heard, her adventures through evil underbrush (Yuki though she was just a bit prejudiced about that, Haru disagreed), how the wonderful music had constantly changed directions on her, the ancient path that'd appeared, the beautiful meadow and meting the source of the violin.
Haru had long since stopped brushing Yuki, but the cat had been interested enough not to complain. "And you ran…" Yuki shook her head, her tail twitching amusedly. "Sometimes I think I'll never get you, Haru. You talk to cats without a problem, but you bolt at anything else that's odd."
"I know, Yuki." Haru sighed. "I really hope my flute's okay though, after all that running I did." She pulled the flute case out of the bag and opened it, fretfully checking flute over. Her mother would kill if she'd broken one of the keys again.