He wanted pen and paper to connect. No, it wasn't just that. He wanted his mind and music to connect. He craved it. The song that he wanted to write was dancing, just beyond his reach, twirling around him and taunting him, saying that it shouldn't take something so trivial as a useless mutt to put him in such an embarrassing state. He was better than this. He should be able to write music no matter what pressure there was from the outside world. There was no reason why Fuwa Sho shouldn't be able to deliver a phenomenal performance. Something like a Beagle shouldn't even register on his radar.
And yet here he was, after three hours, and he only had a few bars of music written to show for it.
This is so aggravating.
But he didn't let anything show. No annoyance, no aggravation, no irritation, no vexation. He could at least pride himself on that.
Perhaps he was just tired. Traveling, that unexpected meeting with Kyouko, confronting the Beagles, staying up all night...all of that may have just contributed to a temporary inability to write music. It was perfectly understandable. Perfectly acceptable.
To everyone but himself, that is.
He sighed, put the pencil-tip on the next line, and began writing. He managed to get to the second measure before erasing it all and starting again. He began again, but could only get two quarter-notes down before scrapping the work. He started once more, but couldn't even think of what kind of note he wanted to begin the measure.
This is ridiculous, he thought Perhaps I need another cup of coffee. I saw some insi-
Something heavy rammed into the side of his head, like a weighted dart hitting a target. His expression slipped, and he looked around, losing patience, for the origin of the flown thing.
His eyes landed on her.
Dark hair, dark makeup, lips pursed together, impeccably contained, eternally controlled, eyes that revealed nothing. Features so similar to that woman's that he nearly called out her name.
Palone-san?
Mogami Elizabeth...Saena Palone...she was standing there in the flesh before him.
His rational mind caught up with him. No, no, this couldn't be her. She was in America. She wanted nothing to do with Japan anymore, she only came here on the occasional business trip, and then it was always to Tokyo. This was Karuizawa. No reason for her to be here. And she must be in her forties by now, maybe fifties. She wouldn't look so young...
Kyouko.
He snapped out of it, coming to terms with the rational part of him. He held a normal conversation with Saena-Kyouko for a few moments, (or, as normal as any conversation was between the two of them these days) and did what he came here to do – warn her against the Beagles.
But he wouldn't forget that in that brief moment, his childhood friend whose name it was that he very nearly called out.
She looks like Palone-san.
A lot like her.
Enough to be mistaken for her.
Scary.