At the Edge of the World

Disclaimer: CCS is not mine.

Chapter eight - Nadeshiko


We retire to the drawing room, and Grandfather asks me to play the piano. He is especially fond of Chopin's Nocturne in E flat, and all those other dark, romantic pieces. I play Schuman's Traumerei, and it is like a dream. Everything around me recedes. I float away to another world, leaving behind everything but the music, soaking in the feel of the melody; the thrum of the bass; and the sensation of the keys beneath my fingers. I follow it up with Rachmaninoff's Prelude in G minor, playing a little more aggressively than is really necessary - but it adds to the overall effect and I know that Grandfather is pleased. Sonomi listens from the sofa. Her eyes are closed as if in sleep. My heart swells when I notice that she is smiling faintly.

"Ah, Nadeshiko," says Grandfather, rising to his feet. His eyes have softened a little since dinner, and this is good because it means he won't be picking on Sonomi quite so much anymore. "That was wonderful."

"Thank you, Grandfather," I say, smiling as he pets my head gently. It feels wonderful. I have always loved the weight of his hand.

"You're going to do so well," he says. "I know it. Just as you have mastered music, so you will also master this household. Soon I'll have nothing to worry about!"

This unsettles me. I see Sonomi sink further into the couch and she winces even though she's trying to feign sleep.

"Ah," I say a bit nervously, "Thank you, but Sonomi's honestly better at that sort of thing-"

Grandfather grunts noncommittally and ignores this. An awkward silence settles between us all, so I begin to play the piano again. Grandfather goes back to his chair and lights his pipe.

A nervous etude is the only thing that breaks the silence.


"Hey, Nadeshiko?"

We are lying in the same bed with the lights out. Sonomi's hand is warm and tight and clasping mine. It is raining outside and the storm is loud.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for sticking up for me."

I inch closer and take her in my arms. I don't say anything as she cries; I only stroke her hair and wish things were different.

I find myself waking some hours later, sitting upright in the darkness and still clasping Sonomi's hand, imagining that I can hear my mother, calling me.