Hai, you all. Apa cer?

I'm sorry for not updating Ask Your Heart in a while, and sorry for this being quite short. I've been spending too much time on Supernova's Spiderweb so much lately - I'm almost obsessed. Turned out I do enjoy fcking with reader's minds. If you love suspense/thriller, do drop by Supernova's Spiderweb. I'm not giving out any spoilers about that except that... Kizaru's conversation with Law isn't a flashback. It really happens at the same time the lights went on, so dun dun dunnn!

Sorry for the OOC-ness in this chapter. So much musical. Well, it's about a musical, right? Again, thank you so much for reading, following, favoriting, reviewing and enjoying. I truly appreciate it.

One Piece belongs to Odacchi.

Piano.

The first musical instrument I have learned to play when I was a child, when I was eight. I remembered being sent to piano lessons with a nice, tall man – Brook was his name – when I was little, and after being able to play with both hands, I lost interest. I began touching the instrument again years later, and fell in love all over again, because of the sentimental songs I have been writing, perhaps?

I thought it was Cutty Flam on the piano, when I heard a beautiful composition being played in the auditorium, that afternoon. I was outside, taking in fresh air – as fresh as it is, with the smell of heavy rain that comes so calming. Smiling, somewhat excited, I stood up from the wooden bench just next to the side-entrance door. My velvet flats made squeaky noises, wet from the rain. I hummed to myself as I walked through the door.

The composition was too beautiful to resist, I was curious if Cutty Flam already have lyrics for it.

"I don't know how to sleep without you, I don't know how to fix my heart."

I hummed along. The voice, so serenading. Captivating. Husky, yet manly. It was as if one was breathing, exhaling when he sing. It wasn't Chang. It was someone else.

I stood by the door. There was someone behind the piano, wearing a familiar t-shirt. My t-shirt, to be exact. Zoro had promised to return it later, when he stepped out of the shower this morning. He woke up on my couch, under a thick comforter I've put out for him, because I thought I could survive the cold night with a thinner blanket last night.

I didn't realize I was smiling the whole time, arms folded on my chest, watching him from afar. His voice is still so serene, so beautiful to my ears – and to everyone else, too, if they would listen. I taught him how to play the piano, years ago. It was nice to see him being able to play a full song, now. He must've spent much time on the piano, all these while when I was gone.

"I don't know how to smile without you, I don't know how to wait for you."

I had long ignored my wet, uncomfortable velvet flats. My feet moved against my will, making a small step towards him.

"That's so freaking cute."

I didn't realize she was there too – the pink-haired Lolita doll. Seating herself in one of the audiences' front row seats, the nearest to the black piano, she was hidden from my view. She stood up, carrying herself towards the piano. She seated herself beside Zoro on the piano chair, her back leaning against his shoulder.

He laughed. "Want more of it?"

She nodded.

"Then come back with me. Come back to Kuraigana."

"Zoro, I don't wanna talk about this..."

"Make a choice, Perona. Me, or your superstar dreams?"

"Why are you so against it?"

"Because it's for your own good."

"I'm still young. Let me do whatever I want."

"Perona."

"Zoro."

"Do you love me?"

I didn't know why I stayed the whole time. Heartbreaking, but I was curious for her answer. I was curious for everything that I shouldn't be curious about – they have nothing, absolutely nothing to do with me!

"Of course I do, Zoro."

He smiled. "Ask your heart. What do you want?"

I felt a foreign, overwhelming feeling somehow got stuck in my throat, my eyes felt hot, my head felt dizzy. My chest felt heavy, as if my insides were being squeezed by a force too strong for me to fight. I had the same feeling on a warm July night, just a year ago, where I felt asleep with pillowcases too soaked.

I needed to leave.

I carried myself back outside, cursing myself in my head. I desperately tried to shake off the scene, everything I've seen, everything I've heard, but they kept on playing, torturing – how could it be torturing when I have nothing to do with them? Feeling that, I was too fragile to fight too. For the first time in my life, I felt miserable, lonely and empty.

I was crying. God, I really wish the others wouldn't find me in this state.

Rain. Heavy rain. Fix my heart, I hope it would. Putting one hand out, hoping to taste the rain on my skin, on my fingertips, I found it therapeutic. If it weren't for the thought of getting soaked in the rain, I would've stepped out there, myself. I wondered if I could be excused from tonight's show.

Tonight's show. I sighed. I should skip tonight's show. Tell everyone I'm not feeling well. Fake a fever. Yes, that's what I should do.

Someone pulled me into the rain. That someone appeared from behind me, and I am now drenched under the heavy rain. My eyes blinked too much, trying to get rid of the water that got trapped by my eyelashes. A figure stood in front of me, in the parking lot. I laughed, because I thought it was Cutty Flam.

He took my hand, he was smiling. My head couldn't register what was happening, my body reacted with the flow – I go with whatever my heart told me too. Follow him. He took my arms, he pulled me closer. With one swift movement, he got me by my waist, wrapping his hands around me. Welcome him, my heart said. My head was not there to resist anything.

He moved slowly, I couldn't tell under the pouring rain, what he was doing so close to me. He had me in his arms, his feet moves as if he was dancing to something so slow. So lost in the heat of his body, his warm breath tickled when whispered in my ear, "don't make me sad, don't make me cry."

Dance with him, my heart said. So my feet complied with it, my fingers grabbed the fabrics of his shirt, pulling behind him, as if not wanting him to let go. It's been forever – really, forever – since I've felt wanted, needed. Cared for, loved, in a way that made my heart skip a beat.

"Don't go," he said in my ears, I felt his lips curved when they landed on my left cheek.

Stay with him, my heart said. So I pulled myself closer.

He rested his forehead against mine. "Tell me you still love me."

Love him, my heart said. But my mind was present again, so this time, I rebelled.

"No," I said. "No, Zoro."