Song is Cold, from RWBY.

June 19th, 2022

The bright, harsh glare of the blindingly white stage lights shimmered and shifted like a fairytale aurora around her as Shion's heels clicked sedately towards the piano in the center. The very air echoed in awareness of her steps, her performance dress swishing like gossamer moonbeams around her sleek, shining, ink-black heels.

Her hair was done up in a complex arrangement that had taken hours to pin and tame, and her delicate features were gilded with just the lightest touch of makeup, darkening her eyes, reddening her lips. The blurry smudge of eyeshadow and eyeliner highlighted the sharp, exotic green of her eyes –once-sharp, anyways. Now her gaze was dull and soft, like jade that had been smoothed but not polished at all, blank with a never-ending grief.

Not that anyone in the audience cared. They saw an ice-maiden born from the glistening green darkness of a glacier, beautiful and fragile and glittering with hard, polished strength. To them she was nothing, a painted picture in motion.

To her, they were nothing as well. Shion played for one and only one person, and her fingers trembled with the knowledge of him as she set them upon the cool ivory keys.

A hushed, expectant silence fell as the first rippling, liquid notes spread out to fill the air. As the daughter of the prominent Sonozaki family, Shion's future was more than merely assured, but it was her talent at the piano that propelled her outwards from under her sister's benevolent shadow, made her coiffed face plastered across every dreary gossip magazine and her name a word on the lips of every celebrity organizer.

Not that she cared.

Shion played for a singular person, and where she played, or who else listened, was of little concern to her.

She closed her eyes, letting the music flow through her, taking her away from this cold and sterile shell of a concert hall, and leaned into the microphone. Shion opened her mouth and let the words come, singing for him, only for him.

"I never felt that it was wise, to wish too much. To dream too big, would only lead to being crushed."

Shion had never resented her sister for being the heiress, for being given more of everything –more love, more attention, more opportunities, more personality. It was not her twin's fault that she had been born first. And Mion had never once taken advantage of it, of the fact that all the love and limelight was shined towards her. If anything, she did her best to reflect it back to Shion, to give her whatever joy she could.

Shion loved her sister.

But none of the rest of her family loved her in return, and she had grown up nearly alone, fenced in from other children by wealth and tutors and social bonds that splintered before they ever even had a chance to reach her. Even with Mion doing her best to be a stopgap, Shion had been alone, and lonely, for so very, very long.

"Then I met you, you weren't afraid of anything. You taught me how to leave the ground, to use my wings."

Her first meeting with him had been… an education, to say the least. While Shion was not nearly so valuable as her sister, it was not unheard-of for kidnapping attempts to be made: she had Kasai as her bodyguard for that very reason. Still, the man couldn't be everywhere at once, and an errand to the corner store near her apartment might have had some very unfortunate results if not for the timely and gallant appearance of a young blond.

Even when she'd never seen him before, she'd known of him. Satoshi Hojo. His sister was a child actress, a prodigy, but when the pressures of the industry had grown too great and their aunt and uncle had cared more about the money than her mental health, Satoshi had lobbied for –and won– custody over her, before promptly removing the legendary Satoko Hojo from the business.

Shion had been impressed by his courage and fortitude when she'd read about it in the papers, and she was impressed all over again when they met face to face, and he fearlessly put himself between the thugs and her. As things had turned out, the two of them were neighbors, and her knew her by sight: they had spent nearly an hour afterwards, talking while sitting on swings in the park, learning about each other.

Falling in love with someone at first sight was supposed to be impossible, and it had been –until she'd seen him.

"I never thought a hero, would ever come my way. But more than that, I never thought you'd be taken away…"

They had spent hours, days, spending time talking about everything and nothing in the spare moments of their lives. Shion's grey apartment brightened up as she began putting the tokens she and Satoshi won at arcade games or during outings on her shelves or in her bed. Even her calendar on the wall, marked slow and somber with the dates she was supposed to meet with the family, began to glow with color as stickers and twirling notes reminded her of the times she and Satoshi were supposed to meet and hang out.

Shion even met his sister, a suspicious but endearing child who clung tight to her brother's hand. Shion had won her over during a day at the arcade, cursing loudly but cleanly at the games as she sought to win the biggest one for Satoshi and his sister. By the combination of both of their strengths, they had managed to shoot down a giant stuffed teddy for Satoko to enjoy, and according to her brother, she had cuddled with it every night after.

And then-

And then-

"Now it's cold without you here…"

Shion had learned the piano as a child, but it was playing for Satoshi and his sister that had made her talent blossom, made her voice shine and her fingers fly over the keys like enchanted fairies. They had both loved to hear it, to dance around their own small apartment as Shion laughed and clattered away on Satoko's toy piano, pounding out a spritely song for them both to dance to. The room had been filled with joy and light, and it was that memory that had carried her through every audition and every performance.

"It's like winter lasts all year…"

It was an accident, they said.

A car accident.

Shion had not seen it; she had been busy with another interview, excited to finally be able to play the song that she had composed in secret for Satoshi. She hoped it would give one of them the courage to finally publicize their relationship, to make official the engagement that her family and his already knew about.

She had arrived in her apartment to see Satoko sobbing, the news reel bloody, and her world had shattered.

"But your star's still in the sky, so I won't say goodbye…"

Deadened as the news made her, Shion had still managed to take the necessary actions. Courtesy of the ferocious Sonozaki lawyers, Satoko's good-for-nothing aunt and uncle were forced to yield custody to Shion, to not heartlessly drag Satoko back into the polished gleam of the movie lights when she was in the depths of broken-hearted despair. Courtesy of her own money, Satoshi had been laid to rest in comfort and with respect.

Shion never wore the ring he had given her. It lay close to her heart, strung on a chain that she refused to remove.

And she still played for him.

Only for him.

"I don't have to say goodbye…"

10.36 AM, USA Central Time