Muse
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm sooooo sick of this.
Notes: This is just a lead up - a prequel of sorts- to my original idea: Medium. This just gives you an idea of Seto's feelings...
Medium has been posted, and if you haven't read it, I suggest you do that, right now.
Summary: She was his muse. She was the clear note, which pierced through a deathly silence, and broke the spell over him. a Seto X Anzu fic
Seto did not seem the type to play an instrument, it was true, and music had not been allowed during Gozaburo Kaiba's reign, but in a way, that was why Seto had originally built the music room; in defiance.
Music had become Seto's passion, his secret weakness, and his relief. The only way he could release some of the tension he built up inside.
Seto could – of course- play any instrument he picked up, but piano was his favourite.
Flicking on the light, he set his suitcase down and headed straight past all the other instruments towards the piano, his beautiful old grand piano, its keys shiny from overuse, its pedals worn and fading from excessive playing.
Flicking back his trench coat, Seto sat down and placed his fingers in the right position.
He had begun the afternoon ritual after one day of school, when he had walked in on Anzu Mazaki practicing her dancing in the hall. He had – unbeknownst to the dancer- watched her, enchanted, for nearly an hour, before shaking himself and returning home.
In a fit of creativity, he had sat down at the piano and played the most appropriate piece he could think of:
Chopin's Tristesse (Etude in E flat)
It perfectly reflected her sweet, innocent, and relaxed dancing. The dancing which had given Seto an overwhelming and unexptected sense of contentment.
Seto hadn't been at school for a week, due to Kaiba Corp business, and he was missing his muse greatly.
He played it perfectly, of course, but the notes were stiff and unrelenting, lacking their usual fervor.
Desperately, Seto tried to remember her...
It was Anzu who had unwittingly convinced Seto to try and see the good in life.
It was Anzu who had unknowingly brightened up Seto's life in the morning with her brilliant, dazzling smile.
It was Anzu who had unconsciously taken Seto's hand and dragged him from his own never-ending abyss of despair.
But he couldn't return the favour, and he couldn't show her what he felt, because long ago, his heart had put up a vast wall, enclosing Seto, preventing him from smiling back at her, from making conversation…
From saying what he so depseretely needed to say.
So instead, every afternoon, Seto came to the music room, and he played for her, in the hope she would somehow hear, even though he knew it was a fool's hope.
Remembering Anzu, her every detail, the most brilliant blue of her eyes, the graceful way she held herself, the bright, white smile that was flashed so frequently, her soft hair as it fell about her face, bouncing just above her shoulders.
Inspired, Seto brought his fingers up to the keys.
Once again he played with an ardor the grand old piano was accustomed to, once again, he devoted his skilled fingers to his muse.
Once again, he played for her.
What d'you think? Please review, and please, please, please read Medium, if you haven't already! I wrote it as a seperate story because... I felt like it
I can do what I like, I'm the author!