PRIDE
It was an intense surge Hijiri harbored for so long. He was born with it...as every one is... feeding it with the coming years...urging it to grow stronger. As much as he loathed it, he had no choice...no choice at all.
What was he to do? Everyday, it sharpens itself, amking itself known to the violin. The notes and pieces laid out are soft...slow...Yet they rage and vibe in his masterful strokes.
The emotion in the notes consume him, trapping...surrounding him as the beautiful music sweeps about...feeding the surge. The innate surge. His precious pet. A pet he loves, which will eventually kill him, should he let it take control.
His head screams.
The violin stops
He begins to play a softer melody
How beautiful...
How is that no matter how I rage...or how I sigh...my music is ever-beautiful...?
His pride smiles...
A/N: I dont get it...do you?