TheCritic= Regarding what you said, the poetic words was intentional. That's Rino's vocabulary. Thanks for the heads-up though, I will try not to exaggerate.

Sandshrew master 317= He will. But I would appreciate your review the most if you typed correctly.

Titanmaster 117= Regarding the first chapter, he had a bad time with the boys, you should say it's influenced him. Regarding what you are expecting (Wink, Wink). Thanks for the review.

DaRumpyBurr= THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH FOR YOUR LONG REVIEW! You have no idea how much this makes my midnight! Your compliments got me bragging all over the place, i feel so honored to be blessed with your tips and tricks. Thanks for the scenario and I hope I could impress you with the content. Look forward to your reviews more.

Just Nervous

As the sound of the door closing resounded, her insecurity and fear, not to mention a mini-paranoia, came rushing towards her own being. Now that he's no longer here to protect her, she felt exposed, and undefended, and it's even worse just being besides this woman. This...adult that Kuya left her to. She had mixed feelings; should she trust her? The fact that he left her alone with her is evidence that the adult was trusted and worthy of respect by him, but she can't bring herself to feel the same.

She just couldn't.

She wasn't tough like her brother; where he could stand up for himself, even to the grown-ups without being scared, while she just cowers in front of them. She couldn't talk to anyone, not even to her relatives, she cannot even reach out to them. Her brother barely talks yet he always manages to get people to talk to him. She couldn't even fight back, she is such a weak kid. Kuya was the only who could do anything, even fighting. She cannot stand up against anyone, she can't stand up against this woman.

Just what would this woman do to her? Would she greet her with open arms like the nice lady she was or was she just acting and she was a bad person inside?

Kuya had taught her to understand people's mood and intentions just from expression, air and emotional energy alone without any asking, just so she could defend herself whenever. It has always been like that between her brother and herself, a simple glance or a short stare and they could already tell what's wrong or what's going on the other person; all thanks to the monster that had taken her voice away. No voice, no guts, she had to settle with her own eyes and, inevitably, her own two hands.

She tried to read the woman's body language, trying find out about any hidden intentions in any signs. There were none. Her air isn't bad or scary at all, she feels like an auntie. Maybe that's why Kuya trusted her.

She was also taught not to fall for the outer air, that was what exactly what the outside appearance intended to make others believe. She must look deeper so the inner thought can be exposed and not let herself be deceived by it.

Even so, this woman's air does not change. She tried to dig deeper; nothing. She can't see it. She sees nothing but sunshine and warmth in the woman.

Is it supposed to go like that? Do people show the same intention as their shells? Kuya can see deeper than her and is always quick at seeing past the flesh and into the soul. If her brother did not trust her then he would not have left her with this person. So it should be okay.

….

But still, it was scary being alone.

….

No.

No!

Dili pwede! She clenched her fist.

He told her to be tough. She wasn't a coward, she wasn't a child…..not anymore. She was a dalaga now. She was a tough girl, Kuya always tells her that. She'd better act like one, or else she'll be meeting his disapproval.

She couldn't meet her stare, but Kuya had warned her to be polite and mind her manners when it comes to teachers. They know what they are doing, they know what to do, and they know what's best, he always told her that. If he doesn't think so, he will warn her ahead of time. He trusted her sensory abilities enough, maybe that was part of the reason why he left her alone so early. If he thinks that she can do it then she must follow his thoughts and think that this woman was not a bad person.

"I have to say," She snapped her head to look at the woman as she began to speak, yet she can't bring herself to meet her stare. "You and your brother arrived quite early, even for the first day of school. Were you both excited?" The teacher asked politely.

She tried to meet her contact eye to eye but she just can't, she felt small under the woman's staring.

Di' pwede, she scolded herself again. She was told to be polite, she didn't want to be scolded by Kuya. She didn't want that. Never.

She gave a small nod. Kuya told her a lot of times that he was very excited to go back to school, always saying about a summon war or something before, so the answer should be a yes.

"If I may ask, are you both twins?" The teacher asked.

She looked at the teacher questionably, temporarily forgetting about her nervousness. Why did she think she and her brother were twins? She barely had any resemblance to him. She was the smallest of the family and the youngest. Kuya was so tall, she could never beat him. She barely grew an inch since she was 10.

"I mean you both are second years, wouldn't that be the case?" The teacher guessed.

Oh.

So she thinks they were twins because they went on the same year level. It makes sense, twins would do that too. But still, no. She and him can't be twins at all, she will be turning 16 this year and Kuya was already 17. Is it alright to tell her that she skipped her first year? Is it even alright to even do that?

She answered no, she shook her head.

The teacher was surprised to have her answer, she widened her eyes. "Oh, so you probably skipped grades, didn't you?" She asked. She didn't look mad, she looked interested.

Afraid that it was a bad thing, she gave a very small nod.

"Oh, okay….." The teacher stood still, thinking to herself before suddenly having a change of attitude. "Well, how about we put introductions aside and instead explore the classroom, shall we?" The teacher proposed cheerfully.

Meiko saw through that mask: the cheerful tone was intended to make her welcome and accept it easily. Seems her sensory abilities are still in good condition. But it was a good thing too, she was trying to make her ease up. The teacher was being nice to her, Kuya was right. Plus the feeling of cheerfulness did light up in her because of how infectious it was. She had no choice but to fall for the teacher's proposal.

But she had to remain careful.

Confident enough to look at the teacher in the face, she nodded.

"Come on, let me you show one of the tables." The teacher beckoned, motioning her to come over.

She obeyed, walking over to her with slow steps, carefully minding her movements and kept her back straight. She must stay polite and courteous, what if this place forbade any bad display of behavior?

As she followed her would-be teacher to one of the box-like offices, the classroom didn't look like a classroom anymore when she got a look of them closer. They look like they were for office workers. Were some business men coming over? Do they use this classroom to do work with the teachers as well?

"Now, these are the places where students shall sit down and study." The teacher began, waving a hand towards the general direction of the box offices. "Everything you need is provided there. Laptop, air conditioner, printer and a coffee maker was provided there so you can prevent yourself from falling asleep."

She peered in to look inside the nearest box-like office, everything the teacher said was there. But she did not mention the chair, it was too much for a normal classroom. It was like a recliner chair, similar to the one she personally uses at home but it was brown instead of green and it looked fluffier. She scowled at the familiar sight of a coffee maker. Yuck.

She hates coffee.

But putting aside her dislike for the certain beverage, it sure surprised her, these offices are for students? She would be using all this? She could be provided with anything she ever needed to pass any seatwork any teacher would demand her. If there was work including typing, she can do that. If there was work including a bond paper and pencil she can do that as well, she was confident with her art skills or essay writing skills. Even if she was house-confined for almost 5 years, she understood so well that her education is far too important. So she took up the task to maintain a studious attitude and the particular mindset be put to mind as long as it's not summer. Her method was to study off the old textbooks her brother no longer uses, do the quizzes that were left unanswered and, hopefully, catch up to his level.

It seemed that paid off. She was put in the best class, all because she never lost her sense as a student. That's what he told her, and that's what makes her day better.

"Shall we continue the tour?"

She passively looked back at the teacher and nodded. She was starting to feel comfortable around her, just for a bit. The way she kept that peaceful and sunshiny aura around her for so long was nice, it helped her to feel a little confident.

The teacher led her to the stage. She could not stop looking at the giant plasma screen as she is walking closer and closer towards it, her attention to the teacher gone. It didn't look projected, it was an actual big screen. She could definitely see the pixels on the screen. The screen was so big that she could compare it to a theater projection, she never seen a screen of this size before. She has seen 50x50 inches, but never this size that seemed to be 500x500 inches, or maybe 1000. How could the school afford this?

"This way, Marikawa-san!" The teacher called out to her gently.

Not wanting to leave the instructor impatient she hurried over to where the teacher was. The adult was standing behind a big table, probably where she discusses once classes start, and Meiko's eyes remain planted on a giant rectangular picture on the sloped surface, it took no time for her to figure out what it was.

It was a giant touch screen. There was no keyboard, no mouse. It was not hard to figure out that it was, and it was not hard to figure out its purpose. This touchscreen was for teaching lessons.

She couldn't keep her impressed eyes from widening in fascination at the advanced teaching technology. Even her hometown doesn't have these, anywhere.

The teacher began to make use of the touchscreen: she placed a hand on the screen and swiped the screen sideways, the beach screensaver being swept away in her motion. There was a sort of desktop at the screen in its place now, a purple wallpaper with the logo in the shape of an A, she sees a few folders in a single corner. The teacher tapped on the 'Students' folder and a file folder opened, showing 3 folders.

Seat plan.

Records.

Class Assesment.

What had Meiko perplexed was that everything was in English. She thought it would be Japanese given the country they were in. Maybe this was part of the education policy.

The teacher tapped the Seat plan folder and she was given the sight of a table chart. There were….6 rows and 5 columns. Each box had a name in one. Probably the students' names, she couldn't differentiate a few names if they were male or female. There was also a number on the bottom right corner on each box, probably a rank number, signifying who has the best grade among them. Everything was jumbled, the numbers are disarranged and are placed randomly. She searched for her own name, trying to see where she was placed and what rank was she.

Her name in Kanji: Marikawa Meiko 10.

3x6….The front center of the class.

She instantly grew nervous. She doesn't want that spot, she would be in front of everyone where everyone can see her. She doesn't want that. She's too nervous to be in the center.

"Would you like a different seat, Marikawa-san?" The teacher asked.

She snapped her head up to look at the teacher, too nervous about her seat plan to remember that she was there.

"Considering that your brother did tell me that you are not comfortable in the space of males and being overcrowded, I should transfer your seat so…." The teacher tapped her finger on the screen, her own name under the adult's finger and holding until the box with her name turned red, four arrows found in each side of the square, maybe showing that it is okay to move her name to another box. "Would you like to sit by the corner of the class?" She suggested, pulling back her hand and tapping the top left box of the arrangement and she found her name replacing a masculine student's name at the 1x1 spot, right next to box 2x1 with a feminine name: Kirishima Shouko 1.

The top one of the class, maybe?

The 1x2 spot that was right below her name also had a student with a feminine name: Kinoshita Yuuko 4. The 1x3 spot had a masculine name but it was far from her so it shouldn't be a problem. The 2x2 spot also had a feminine name. So she is surrounded by girls, which indeed helps. No boy would seem to be near her so it would be okay.

"Is this plausible for you, Marikawa-san?" The teacher asked. "Or should you choose for yourself?"

She would be okay with this arrangement. She hoped that these girls are nice people.

Meiko shook her head.

"Okay, then. Shall we go and make arrangements ahead of the others?" The teacher sounded playful when she said this.

That was another act. She saw it through, yet still she was affected by it.

Once she was in her designated area, she was nonetheless accommodated with her own desk.

"Now, Marikawa-san. All these shall be under your disposal. Whatever else you needed, please inform me. The school will fund the costs so you can save yourself from feeling guilty."

She couldn't heed the last sentence, she is still under the process of acknowledging what is in front of her that is officially hers.

"Why don't you be seated and set you up with the introductions ahead of time?" The teacher requested.

Nodding in response, she wasted no time to sit in the recliner chair, and she was right. It was comfortable than her own sofa in the home. The puffiness of the furniture was so engulfing, as if it was stuffed with feathers. Staring up at her, he awaited for what she shall do next.

"Try and start up your laptop." She ordered.

Meiko did as she's told, pulling up the screen, she noticed a sticky note pasted at the top right of the monitor.

Password: 93750

Hm.

Finding the power button, she pressed it and the entire keyboard glow white. As the screen began to do its startup transition, Meiko slowly figured out that the operating system was Windows 10. She didn't have the same thing in the laptop at home but she knows her way around it.

Then an account with '1x1' as its name presented itself on the screen, and a blank Input-Password blank below it.

Looking at the sticky note again, she typed the password given and it eventually entered to Desktop. A wallpaper of the 2x2 block of Windows in a blue background showing, this one was probably newly bought. Plus the process was fast, everything looked set for work, prompting any user to make do with the work given.

Going directly for the Microsoft Word, she clicked the Blank Document to serve as her 'mouth', typing the words, What else shall I do? She hoped her skill in encoding kanji was still good.

Youko leaned down to look at the screen before straightening and saying, "I guess that was pretty much all I needed to see." She nodded, "So, what do you think of your new classroom?"

She sighed in relief, glad that it wasn't a problem to deal with. Facing the screen, she typed her response in a speed that told the homeroom teacher that the student was well-versed with using a keyboard. Just half a second and the response was there, Meiko tilted the screen back so the teacher can see well.

It was splendid.

"Very good. Is there anything else you need?"

She stared at the teacher, giving a quizzical look at the given offer.

Kahit ano?

But everything she needed for a school day was here. Being in her own cubicle, she couldn't imagine a day where she would need something else besides all this. Printer, short/long bond papers, laptop, pens/pencils, she didn't notice it at first but there was a small shelf at the left side below the table containing educational textbooks.

Philosophy.

General mathematics.

Personal development.

English Grammar and General Language.

World History.

More and more….

She's pretty much covered with everything needed for a seat work. What else does she need?

"May I suggest a text-to-speech device? It might help you with your disability in communicating with other people." The teacher suggested.

She looked at the teacher with surprise for such a thing to exist before lowering her head, thinking about the possibilities allowed if she were ever to have such a device.

A 'Text-to-Speech device'….

Would that help? Or rather, can she even talk to her own classmates so boldly? Would her classmates even like her?

….….….

Facing the screen, she made her response, this time in a slower speed.

Ctrl+] Ctrl+B

In large letters, she typed it in with all of her courage without breaking down to embarrassment.

If she ever wanted anything, it will have to be this. It will not cost anybody anything, nor will it require anybody anything. Even if no one would talk to her, that's okay. She only wants this.

Do be kind to me.

Drawing back her hands from the keyboard, she pressed them down on her lap, expecting the teacher's ridicule for such a thing to ask for.

Biting her lower lip, curling her tiny fingers to a tight fist, she waited and waited. After a few seconds, there was no ridicule, no laughing, no reprimands, just an odd feeling that was slightly pressuring on her right shoulder.

She looked at her right shoulder and she was surprised to see a hand resting there. She trailed her eyes from the hand to the shoulder then to the face, it was her teacher's hand. She only saw the kindest face she ever saw on her advisor.

"Don't worry, Marikawa-san. As long as I'm here, no one will do harm to you." She gently said.

The way she said that, the way her voice projected her words. It was all so….familiar. The familiarity of the tone, only one person in her own life so far could only say words in such a way. The memory of who it was nearly made her to cry.

Thankfully, it was such a long, long time ago since it happened. She got over it. She doesn't feel her vision beginning to blur, or her knees coming down as if they had gone rotten. But still, she felt hollow every time.

So empty.….

She placed her porcelain-white hand over the teacher's, testing her own sensory if she could feel the feelings of her teacher, maybe even her intentions.

It was so warm, so comforting, so…loving. Meiko wanted to stay like this, she didn't want her teacher to lift her hand away.

It was a sign: it told her that her teacher was a very kind teacher.

It also tells one truth: she was not doing this out of the obligation as a teacher, she was doing this out of her own heart.

She gave the teacher a small smile, the latter mirrored it with a warmer one. She was starting to like this teacher.

Something else caught the student's eye, just past Youko's shoulder. And it was quick for the homeroom teacher of A-Class to know what it was. Following her stare, she stared at one of the most valued possessions of the 2nd year's A-Class. The Grand Piano.

The outer parts of the instrument was carved with leaf and vine patterns, from the best artists the school could hire, not to mention the giant emblem of Fumitzuki Academy carved on the open lid of the piano. It was no surprise for anyone who didn't recognize the instrument to be fascinated by it.

The teacher pulled her hand away, Meiko's hand slipping from it as well, the warmth abruptly gone from her grasp. The adult walked over to the object of the early-arriving student's interest and it took no time for the latter to join the stride.

Wasting no time, the young student began examining the Piano like a mechanic examining the fine workings and innards of a car engine. Takahashi Youko was amused, given that the girl's body physique was so close to appearing child-like, anyone who didn't know better could mistake her for a child curiously exploring the parts of a toy she newly had.

"Quite grand, isn't it?" She asked the student.

Meiko nodded, placing her hands against the wood and caressing the carvings of the instrument, as if doing so would give her good luck.

"This was one of the prized possessions of A-Class and the entire school, told to be older than before the school was fully created." She began, looking at one of the carvings that were found at the bottom of the keys. The effort it took to keep the instrument to top condition and clean in every passing week, month, or even years was not measurable. "Some years ago, 2 years after the school's grand opening, when the School's first batch became second-years like you, a single A-Class student made her own composition with this very instrument and it became ingrained in the school's anthem, or so the Headmaster told me."

Whether or not the girl was listening, no one could tell. But judging from how Meiko looked like she was possessed with the instrument, her eyes firmly planted to the wooden contraption as if it was the only thing she could look at, the possibilities are not close to possible.

The teacher sighed. At least the socially anxious student was starting to feel confident around her new environment quickly. She sat on the bench and began playing a simple short melody; which effectively drew Meiko's attention, much to her chagrin. It looks like the student was not one for stories.

Hearing the familiar sounds that belonged only to one instrument, she diverted her eyes from the artistic carvings to the area where the player would be when such sounds would resonate. At first she was a little surprised, now she was fascinated. She found someone who can play, and someone who was welcoming enough to show it to her. It was like seeing a longtime friend who was away for a long time, the friend demanded her attention and she will give the kind of attention the friend demanded. Meiko never touched a real piano or even heard the sounds of it, actually hearing the sound from the real thing incited the musical spirit that lay dormant in her soul to fully awaken; which brought her enthusiasm to a full attention, walking over to the side of the bench.

Meiko watched her teacher's educated and trained hands fly across the keys by the side. The specific fingers Youko used, it was easy for Meiko to tell that she was a talented one that had the years take its toll on her capability. If the teacher used to play with delicate grace, she lost that ability over her adulthood. The pinkie finger was noticeably left aside.

But the roll of her fingers, just to reach certain keys, it was a sign that she was still a pianist at heart. The melody she played, she can't recognize it from any piano song she ever played, or even heard of. Was this song composed independently, or maybe taught to her by her skilled mother or instructor?

Without even helping it she was already sitting beside her homeroom teacher at the same bench, paying attentively to the song she played. It took no time for her to figure out the Theme.

It sounded like 'Childhood': in a high-note chord followed by low-note filler in courtesy of her right hand.

Meiko knew music.

No, more like she knew how to feel the soul that resides in a song just as her brother knows how to talk to her wordlessly. In every song, the official ones created by emotion and passion, the songwriter would always place his soul in the song alongside his skill. When skill makes the song appealing to the ears, the soul of the writer makes it possible to reach the heart of the listener. Lose either one and it wouldn't make sense. That's what she thinks.

But if Meiko brought her full honesty to the question: which quality of the song would make it so beautiful? She would say that the Soul would deliver the full effect of the song.

She knew music. She knew how to feel the music. She could feel the soul of the writer in the song. She could feel the passion of the song. She could even feel the meaning behind the meaning.

She could talk to the soul that resided inside the song, almost as if the soul was dancing in the background, singing meanings and stories with grace.

And a voiceless song, such as this piece that her homeroom teacher was playing, was no challenge to feel how Takahashi Youko portrayed her soul to the melody. But instead of seeing the soul of this song, she could imagine the background.

The song was actually deep.

Meiko could feel the playground, the creaking of a single, occupied swing on the swing set. A young Takahashi Youko laughing, her father behind her as he pushed her forward, her arms gripping the chain as tightly as she could, and she was swung forward again before swinging back and being pushed again.

Was the piece a contribution to her childhood memories? Or maybe it was something else.

Whatever the meaning was, the music was beautiful. Even Meiko herself was getting lost in the Fog of the song. Her eyes closed, her head swaying in rhythm to the tune as if she was a single blade of a meadow field swaying alongside the whistle of the wind.

Without even noticing, the song was about to end. Meiko mentally pouted, she didn't want the song to end. It was one of the most beautiful songs she heard in practical. With a last and final scale, Youko's fingers flew across from the low to the high and it concluded the song to an end.

As the teacher drew her hands to herself and interlocked them in her lap, Meiko looked up, feeling absolutely no terror as her teacher met her gaze. She looked up to her in admiration, the song was majestic.

Staring back into the keys, the black and white keys themselves was provoking her, as if it was a living being, beckoning her to come and play with it.

Meiko neither composed nor even learned an exclusive melody from a relative or an instructor. But she herself was a pianist too. She wouldn't 'say' that out loud but she has more spunk to even admit that she was good at it. She liked her teacher's song, she wanted to impress her as well, she wanted to show that she can play too.

This may be from a Pinoy artist and she arranged a personal cover herself, but her teacher doesn't know that. The advisor might think she composed it herself. She'll have to thank her brother for this. Their music escapades and jamming as siblings were always worth something, it seems this was one of those 'somethings'. This seemed to be different without her brother's guitar collaboration but thankfully, she was prepared for solo plays.

Uno, dos….

With a press of her fingers, the high note, delivering quite a cheerful tone of the intro to resonate, she made sure to match the original. In other words she must kill the original.

She worked her skills to the test, trying them on this acoustic instrument. The sounds the strings made, they were so grand.

Was that why they called it the Grand Piano?

The feel of the keys, the sounds of the base, the vibration of the wood, the practical flow of the song as she brought the sounds to existence with this grandiose mechanization. It was so different than the electric keyboard she owned.

But nonetheless, she continued her work. Adding her other hand to the mix, the intro was over. Then she followed up the verse, maintaining the proper mood quality as best as she could.

To maintain her proper pacing of the song, she played the lyrics in her head and moved her lips in lip-sync. She may have no voice but she will not be denied of the freedom to 'sing'.

|I have you both in my life

And now

I have to choose
Only one

You know I am always

Here for you

I love you so much

But your heart is for another|

She looked at the strings of the piano, specific strings vibrated in every single key she pressed and she could almost mistake them for guitar strings being strummed by a guitarist's calloused fingers. She was reminded of her brother's fingers strumming across the strings in a rhythmic pattern. So open, so majestic. It needed an improvisation melody.

This song was amateur to her, it was one of the first songs she tried to learn, practice and arrange…..then she killed it after one year.

It was such a long time for a single song, but that was to be expected in her amateur years, but her experience comes with age. She was a natural born pianist, and her skill grew with grace. She was 8 when she realized her skill with an instrument like this, and the skill aged, growing stronger and stronger in every passing year.

Compared to the more recent ones she had fully learned or just under practice, this piece was prone to being played by Meiko under a sleepwalk.

|And then there's him

Laying all his love for me

I'm so confused, confused, confused, confused|

All the way until the chorus, her eyes did not leave those strings. Her brother's guitar kept flashing to her mind each time she spares a glance. It got her a little envious that he doesn't have to make an effort with learning his favorite songs' tabs and chords. He just reads them on the internet and boom, he already knows how. Unlike her, she had to figure everything out by ear. She does the harder side of the work.

But he was too humble, he gave her the encouragement that she was a better musician than him, he can't figure out his own tabs by ear. He wasn't a master guitarist yet. He considers her a master musician. She covers her song with full practical ability instead of taking the advice from the internet. He was proud of her for that, she was a real musician.

|Who should I love:

You-my dream?

Or him who is knocking to my heart?

Which one should I allow to reign:

My heart or my mind?

I'm so confused, confused, confused, confused

Who should I choose:

The one I love or the one who loves me?|

This song was one of the things that she could play daintily, delicately, and casually without any effort.

Moving your hands as if you were flaunting your skills in a royal way, just like a princess. She thought it was stupid to do such a thing. Your skill mattered more than your movement. That was what she believed in before. Though when she began mastering her learned pieces, she was doing the same thing she didn't want to do. And when her relatives watched, they were impressed.

Kuya was impressed.

The thought of it brought a smile to her lips.

|Even if I am not the one you love

If I wait for you

Perhaps you'd learn

To love me too

And if he is truly faithful

Perhaps the day would come

When I would learn to love him too|

She played this song with his arms around her, she wanted him to do it again. And when it happens, when she plays in her room, and Kuya manages to hear her in her room playing as he was going about, passing through the corridor. He would enter her room and hold her lovingly while she plays, she would do so with eyes closed and, at the same time, bask in his loving warmth.

|Who should I love:

You-my dream?

Or him who is knocking to my heart?

Which one should I allow to reign:

My heart or my mind?

I'm so confused, confused, confused, confused

Who should I choose:

The one I love or the one who loves me?

I long to feel

How to love and be loved in return

Who should I love:

You-my dream?

Or him? (Or him?)|

As the song was about to come to a conclusion, she didn't want to end it with a somber quality. So she will follow it up with a scale, similar to what her teacher did. It will absolutely botch the song's originality but then again, she wasn't the songwriter nor was that songwriter here, she could botch this song in any way she wanted.

|Oh, which one should I allow to reign:

My heart or my mind?

I'm so confused, confused, confused, confused

Who should I choose:

The one I love or the one who loves me|

Playing the outro and finally the planned scale, she was slowly processing everything that had happened. Tapping the last high note keys, the song was over and the Fog cleared.

Her hands moving away from the keys, everything was slowly coming to existence. The brightness of the room came back, the instrument flashed to existence before her, the softness of the cushion she sat on began to feel perceptible in her sense of touch, the presence that was beside her that had been dead 4 minutes ago began to come alive.

She cannot believe what she just did. She had just played a Grand Piano, in a place she doesn't know, without even thinking about the damages, in front of another person who was not her brother or any other relative.

And it absolutely surprised Meiko that she literally FORGOT that her teacher was even there.

When one gets lost in the moment of the song, she metaphorically calls that 'moment' a Fog. The kind of Fog that was actually a stroke of luck if she ever ended up stranded upon. And just as how normal fogs go, no one can see further than a few feet away. But in Meiko's case, she gets blinded by it. She loses perception of the world, the surroundings around her goes black, not even living people could be heard. In rare cases, she couldn't even see the instrument she was holding or playing.

It was one of the key points of avoiding stage fright. When there was no audience she could see or even knew were there watching, she can let loose. But this time it was different:

It was almost impossible for her to get lost in the Fog when someone she doesn't know was spectating her. It ruins her focus, she can't keep track of the rhythm and timing, and she can't keep her mind on the song. Just how was she able to do that with a person whom she just met for several minutes?

*Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!*

"Bravo, Marikawa-san! That was so beautiful!" Takahashi Youko praised, clapping in a way that wasn't enthusiastic yet not looking so casual. It was a way that made Meiko feel like she did well.

She impressed her teacher.

She earned applause from someone else.

The feeling of being praised by someone other than her brother….

It was absolutely alien.

Yet it felt so pleasant.

It dawned to Meiko that she had actually forgotten how it feels like to be applauded by a crowd. The last time she had, she was holding a bow and a violin, at a tender age of 9, and she was completely different girl; she was a shy, quite approachable little darling. It was the same day where she knew how to get lost to the music, where her love for music began.

Everyone, strangers or friends, teachers or classmates, family or not, everyone was clapping their hands when her composition ended. Keeping that well-composed straight face until she walked away from the stage, from the audience's applaud, was no easy feat. Until she was finally in his brother's arms, who was about to congratulate her with hugs and kisses and a lot of praises, the pressure finally weighed its might on her and she passed out to unconsciousness instantaneously thanks to well-hidden anxiety.

She didn't know exactly how she felt that day, it was the first time she played on the stage in front of the public eye. The experience should be grand, but stage fright was still a common enemy that day, it didn't allow her to feel the whole thing. She never thought she could be given the chance to try again and relive what she had missed that day, she didn't think it only needed a different person, a different audience, a different setting, and a different year.

She felt full of life, full of pride, and she felt fulfilled.

It was so...exhilarating!

Meiko grinned, for the first time in the outside.

"I did expect you to be able to play but I had not expected it in the least for you to be so talented."

She blushed, taking a few of her dyed tresses in hand and bringing it to her nose, trying not to fall into embarrassment with her teacher's praises with the fragrance.

"Forgive me for asking, but who taught you how?"

Meiko looked back to her teacher, considering the question before she answered with a plausible answer.

She pointed a finger to herself and then she gestured to the ceiling, mouthing a certain someone's name with the term that would look easy to read with the movements of her lips.

"Oh, you are self-taught as well."

She might have missed the second gesture but Meiko refrained from correcting. Telling her this much was enough. She didn't want to feel that hollow feeling again, as if she had lost something that was part of her that cannot be replaced, or even be found. It was gone, that feeling is never going to come back.

"I was self-taught too." There was something weird about her face, she looked…..down. "But I was first taught from my father. He taught me how to play the piano since I was 9." Her hands caressed the keys steadily, her hand forming a C chord.

Meiko scooted closer to her teacher, inclined to listen.

Youko was slightly stupefied for a second. The student wasn't interested in the past time of the instrument yet she was acting like a kindergartener wanting to hear a story when it comes to her own personal life.

This time, her voice was slightly soft and almost monotonous. "That song I played earlier….It was a tribute to him." She pressed a G chord, low tone almost reflecting the mood of the teacher's feelings, yet her face doesn't match it. Thanks to Meiko's musical perception, she noticed. The sunshiny aura the teacher had become rainy. "He was gone when I was 12. Since his passing, my piano skills hadn't reached its full potential yet. I still had much to learn, yet he was gone before I knew it." She looked so sad, yet why doesn't she cry?

Meiko's eyes slowly softened, fully understanding just how her teacher felt. The feeling of losing the person you admire the most so suddenly before you were able to say good bye and able to accept it, she understands. That happened to her too, and it took so long for her to get over it.

One year of pain, tears, and begging. Nothing gave her hope that day.

She didn't want her teacher sad, but what can she do to make her smile?

Her answer came to her when her eyes landed on the white and black keys in front of her. She will try, it wasn't much but this was all she could think of. Giving a little distance to herself from the teacher and close to the end of the high notes, she placed her hands on the keys, daring to try.

Meiko played a lively chord, short and spontaneous, she kept it as cheery as she could in the high notes.

She finished the melody, she spared a look to her teacher: Takahashi Youko was giving her a questionable stare.

Meiko tried again, bringing her attention back to the keys and she played another short melody. This time she placed a little bit of soul quality to the song for emotional effect. Thank God for her solo practices, she wouldn't have done such a thing if she had left her skills in hibernation all those 4 years.

She looked at her teacher once again, the stare the teacher gave was both impressed but still questionable.

It was now Meiko's turn to shoot her advisor with a questionable look, wondering why she isn't getting the point. She spared a glance at the keys in front of the homeroom teacher then back at her before playing yet another spontaneous melody.

As Meiko began to place her effort to exaggerate the cheerful tone of the song, she will do her damnest best to give her own Homeroom Advisor that was Takahashi Youko, that she will now refer to in mind as 'Ma'am Takahashi', a daring and challenging look.

As the chord ended, her hands remain hovering over the black and white keys, she never stopped swiveling her stare from Ma'am Takahashi to the keys in front her.

For a few certain seconds of staring, the homeroom teacher responded by giving her song a reply with a short cheerful melody in the low notes, one handed.

Meiko smiled, finally pleased that her pianist of a teacher got the point. She began another melody, expert leveled and soulful, keeping the cheerful tone existent.

Her homeroom teacher responded to the chord, adding her other hand to the play. And at this moment, Meiko nearly felt the soul quality in that melody dominating hers.

As the teacher ended her response, Meiko began a Question. Only this time, she was being mechanical. She was disregarding the soul quality and just settled to skill, trying to throw off her own teacher in terms of mastery.

The teacher gave her Answer, and it was easy to tell that she was settling to being mechanical herself.

Her hands, her skill, her tone control, her movements, the natural flow of the song as a second pair of hands in the same piano; This level of skill was beyond intermediate, beyond novice, beyond advanced. Meiko was starting to doubt her thoughts about her adviser being rusty over the passing of her youthful days.

Marikawa Meiko and Takahashi Youko are of the same caliber.

And would Meiko accept there to be an equal? In normal circumstances she wouldn't care.

But this wasn't what she would consider 'normal'.

Under 4 years in a home, having no certain fellow pianist in the vicinity to play with, none must expect her to remain the same when she was given the opportunity to compete with another when every day was another day to practice instead of applying them to something such as THIS. She was daring to live up this moment to her fullest.

This time, Meiko began another melody. With more usage of her pinkie and other keys, she will create another riff and repeat. Barely a few notes in and her teacher joined her mid-chord, bringing her own notes to the play.

Playing along with the flow, she continued the riff. Youko ad-libbed her chords in synchrony to the black-haired girl's cheery chords. Matching the same skill, they do not have to slow down their rhythm or even work out their timing for the other. They wordlessly understood each other's thought pattern through the song. Once again in her life, she belittled every living person who could speak. She can connect through a person, even without any functioning vocal cord.

The song became a Conversation. Continuous and almost animated, Meiko gave her teacher 78% of her glances than the keys. She played without any looking, just a way for her to show off how good she was at it.

The teacher mirrored the look her student had, daring and almost conceited, even if it wasn't right for a teacher to show such a thing. But she played along, this method of developing the poor girl's mental state was a big opportunity for improvement. She thought to have many methods in mind, but instead this one came and it was the most effective among all of them. Connecting through music, the idea of it seemed sensible and perfect. It develops self-confidence, trust and hopefully, courage. Marikawa Meiko-san will be a new person reborn in no time.

Shimuya-kun would be very impressed once he hears of this.

Some intention of the same idea was completely unnoticed.

This was Meiko's intention since hearing about her teacher's past. She wasn't trying to cheer up her teacher with a melody, she was trying to bring her teacher's learned skill to existence. Playing the piano makes her feel alive, if her teacher played along she could bring back the sunshine around her again. Though when it happened, it took a different turn than what Meiko had expected:

It had gotten competitive.

But she couldn't have it than any other way. She was having fun in this.

With competition in mind, the duo couldn't even bring their minds to notice the quality of the melody they played, or even know how long the song was going to last. They did not even come close to realizing that they had gratified a song purely out of skill and experience alone without any practicing, and did not even realize that it was so grand that it could've drowned lesser pianist's to discouragement. It could have been worth fortunes if it were ever to be eavesdropped by recording specialists.

But thanks to their competitive urges, they don't have any regard to the surroundings around them. Not because they got lost to the Fog, but because they didn't care. Which meant that anybody could've heard the noises they were making inside the classroom from the hallway, it wouldn't be a surprise to them once they realized that there was a single person that served to be their audience, instead of eavesdropper, standing right behind them.

The Audience watched and listened with indifference, neither pleased nor bored with their little playthrough, but the Audience's dark violet eyes showed unhidden interest. Specifically towards the girl with shining, silky black and blue hair that seemed to flow like a tainted waterfall down her back.

She could almost feel herself looking at her own back, except with a different hair color flowing down. Nonetheless, The Audience remained still. Standing and listening, awaiting for the two enthusiastic musicians to end their little escapade.

Among the two of them, the adult, who could presumably be her homeroom teacher, was the first to show signs of exhaustion, her hands going sluggish as if they had become heavy over the amount of effort she placed on her talent and the visible signs of sweat on her temple. The student however, almost appeared to be able to last for another 4 minutes after the last 3 of nonstop playing, the vigor of the girl's hands seemed to outmatch a crazed bull's stamina.

When the homeroom teacher couldn't hold out anymore, she pulled back her hands from the black and white keys with a loud sigh, as if it was a heavy block she had been carrying instead of the wooden instrument, her chord's gone off key as she released her hands before being silenced by her student's extemporaneous solo. Watching attentively, the girl seemed to be giving it her all as she was the only one playing, her hands pounding on the keys like a hammer to a nail, the suspenseful tone almost magnificently increasing in intensity.

The Audience was almost concerned for the piano that the girl might break the keys apart if she uses such strength.

Then as after several seconds of the solo had passed, the speed had begun to lessen in pace, it was beginning to show that the girl was either giving in to exhaustion or was finally ending the song. With a slam of the last and final chord and letting it ring for a few seconds, the girl finally released the strings and the room fell silent once again before turning her stare towards the only adult in the classroom.

That silence was broken by a mirthful laughter coming from the teacher, the girl shared the laugh, seeming to enjoy the experience along with her. However, the latter oddly wasn't…..vocal. It was clear that she was laughing, but not even a single sound resembling a laugh could be evident, even when she was covering her mouth with her small hand to stifle it down, not a single laughter seems to reach the Audience's ears.

It was at this moment that the homeroom teacher finally noticed her, her eyes widening over her sudden presence before composing herself and greeting her. "Good morning." The teacher stood up and bowed to her politely, She returned the bow with an incline of her head. "Are you a student of this class?"

"….Yes." She simply replied in a low, monotone voice.

It was the Audience's turn to notice that the student had stood up from the bench and was facing her fully. She was able to look at the latter's face in full detail. The girl had the whitest porcelain-white skin she ever had from any other person she had met or seen, with the cheeks tinged lightly red from her exertions at the piano. Her face framed serenely by her black and blue locks, her pointy bangs almost covering the entire forehead and her side locks almost reaching the waist as they hung over each of her shoulders. The Audience widened her eyes, only slightly as she beheld the young girl's eyes: they were the most innocent light brown eyes she had ever witnessed. Aside from the full uniform of the school, the girl had black and red striped stockings worn, accurately defining her slim legs, as if they were a part of her.

She couldn't stop herself from feeling surprised at how bizarre that face the girl had.

Staring straight into the girl's innocuous brown eyes, standing in the same posture the girl was; feet together and hands interlaced together in front of her abdomen, matching her appearance like a master imitator.

Two things dawned to the Audience as she had done this: how odd, or almost awkward this situation was between her and the young girl that continued to stare at her with surprise and slight nervousness, and…

….How She, the Audience, the Valedictorian, Kirishima Shouko was practically looking at 'herself'.

I'm SO Disappointed that you can't put music symbols in this website...!

For the song. NOT MINE. Remember that. (youtube - dot - com /watch?v=rE-Bb_0pp2M)