"Seijuro-sama, Good morning!" Hotaru greeted happily while standing beside his bed.
The moment he opened his eyes, it already wanted to glare.
What was so good in the morning if he was awakened like this?
She was too loud and he didn't like that. Why did his father appointed such person to be his attendant?
"First off, you need to have your breakfast." As quick as she could, she prepared a pair of slippers, placing it exactly to where his feet would land on the floor.
The boy was still in the middle of rubbing his sleepy eyes and there she was, already being noisy.
"There are your clothes. Please wear them." she beamed, pointing at the other side of the bed.
He hadn't uttered anything yet. He just looked passed at her as he went off from his bed, directly heading to the washroom, even ignoring the clothes she prepared.
"Ah, perhaps you prefer a different color of clothes?"
Too loud... Seijuro thought annoyingly.
Hotaru wasn't yet aware of anything at the moment. It was her first day, and she only had one thing in mind.
She wanted everything to be perfect.
In the dining hall, while eating his food, she stood beside while carefully observing and jotting down the food he had taken and ignored. She scribbled everything in the memo pad, oblivious of her loud blabbering.
"Broccoli, check! Pepper, check! Oh, he likes to drink water first of all."
The red head would glimpse from time to time, irked at the noise she caused.
During his lessons, she was again around. As he read the book provided by his private tutor for the day, she would constantly peek from behind.
Other times, she would pick a book from his shelves. Only by then that he would be at peace because finally she wasn't causing any disturbance.
Violin lesson came.
At first she was quiet but then she began asking if he could play some songs that she would mention. It was probably those songs on the current hit chart that wasn't for his liking.
Ignorance is a bliss, indeed.
She was very different to her late father who was very well mannered and composed.
This girl, on the other hand was quite unruly. Her communication skills may be formal but she kept jumbling few informal and inappropriate terms towards him—her supposed superior.
Until his piano lesson came, only then that he found her not bothersome.
Unexpectedly, she was just listening in the corner of the room, watching in silence.
When the lesson finished, she approached him and all of a sudden told him something he couldn't fathom as to where it even came from.
"It must have been hard."
He didn't understand.
With no clue at all, the young boy was left with nothing but displeased on his eyes.
He should inform his father to replace the girl once he got back from the business trip.
.
.
.
.
.
Days had passed and he found out that the girl would only stay-still during his piano lesson.
It didn't take long for him to understand why.
One time, she came at him and asked, "Could you...teach me how to play the piano?"
He would commend her audacity for asking. She should have known how busy he was, with his study and other lessons. He could even say that he was already studying more than he was breathing. Teaching her would only add up to his wasted time so no, Seijuro refused her flatly.
"Then, can I play the piano when you're not using it?"
"Why?" he asked. Or more like, why would she even request that. Did she not know her place in the mansion? Asking him to use his belongings, as an attendant, wouldn't that be inappropriate?
Really, he didn't like her attitude. She lacked respect and decency, if he must say.
"I want to be like you." she blurted out, hands clasped together while leaning forward towards him.
The redhead blinked before knitting his brows.
He wasn't sure what she meant by that.
In what aspect she wanted herself to be like him? Somehow, it seemed provoking.
"Could you elaborate your words?" He said, turning his body back to face the giant instrument. Learning the piano so she could be like him? Was it? Or, did she think that learning an instrument would elevate her status?
She repeated his question inside her mind. At this moment, with him on her front while trying to remember how the melody sounded like and what she felt that time.
Why was it again? All she knew was how she wanted to hear it again and perhaps... perhaps...Wait... why did she say that again?
'I want to be like you'?
Hotaru frowned to herself. "Sorry, I also don't understand."
Looking her from the corner of his eyes, he sighed.
This is pointless.
.
.
.
.
.
When he thought she would rest the case, he was wrong.
"Please, just the basics are fine." she appealed once again after a week of being quiet.
At this point, Seijuro wasn't taking her words seriously anymore, paying her with silence from his end.
Either way, how was he supposed to teach someone? He wasn't a teacher. He wasn't even aware of what to teach her. How could he start if she, herself, didn't even understand why she wanted to learn the instrument?
As to him, he didn't learn the piano just because he wanted to. There was one person he adored so much, someone who would always play for him and that person was the sole reason why he was continuing it.
"Anything is fine, please Seijuro-sama." Hotaru pleaded with two palms attached, creeping beside the redhead who was currently reading a book inside his study room.
Seijuro was irked at the poor image of the girl. "Don't you have some delicacy on you?"
Hotaru cocked her head.
He sighed, "Nevermind". He shouldn't waste his energy explaining to this girl. However, he could probably shut her off if he showed how hard it would be to learn the piano.
He looked for some of his old musical sheets and went back to her. "Here." He said, extending an arm that held the score.
"What is it?"
"A collection of Chopin's nocturne."
"Who is Chopin?"
"A composer and pianist."
Hotaru's mouth hung in awe, not sure if she was really having a conversation with a person that was on the same age as her.
She shook her head, "I don't... I only know you."
His face couldn't decide whether to laugh or scoff. "Hotaru, I am not like him."
"Okay, I don't really get it but please teach me one of this. " Hotaru said after taking a random piece among the collection.
He studied her reaction and expression. It didn't seem like she understood, just yet. This kind of thing wasn't something that can be taught and learned just because they wanted.
Still… just to shut her off, he might as well show her that piano was not a joke.
Akashi Seijuro sat in front of the giant instrument and began.
As the melody entered her ears, Hotaru flinched due to the sudden excitement of hearing the instrument.
Seijuro halted his fingers wondering if she even understood what was going on. He sighed and said, "I'd assume you don't know how to read notes."
She nodded.
"You can try playing randomly just so you can be familiar with the sound." His fingers naturally went down to the keys again, traveling instinctively, creating a distinct sound, something unknown. It went on for some time until he reached the end.
Hotaru didn't make any sound. Her eyes was interchangeably on and off his face, the fingers on the keys and the complicated drawings on that white paper.
He was hoping he'd hear her give up in the first minute but she seemed so absorbed in listening. He thought he'd add a little bit to the sound. It was quite enjoyable, playing piano to someone that truly wanted to listen. The Akashi heir continued playing a piece not from any composer known, but held a certain spot to his heart. He used to play it a lot before.
Hotaru clenched the surface of her skirt as more notes turned into a melody. Suddenly, it was all coming back to her, the emotion and the sensation of that time.
She huffed, it was this one. Her heart began beating fast as if it waited so long.
She wasn't only glad to hear it once again, but happy, an overwhelming happiness like that Autumn—she remembered once again. The first time she came at the mansion, the first time she heard the melody, the first time her eyes caught sight of him. How could it all happen on that season when everything was withering and dying? This melody, the sound of his piano filled the room so that it was as if spring itself had come to visit, bringing everything back to life.
"Ah…" It was really that one. This was it.
A faint smile crossed her face which gradually turned weak, ending with the gritting of her teeth in the inside as if she was fighting the urge of tears that wanted to form in the surface of her eyes.
That was it. What she meant back then. 'I want to be like you!' She wanted to be like him in a sense that he was like the spring that saved her from that autumn. The one that gave life to her withering life. It was his music that connected her to him.
Hotaru gazed earnestly at the boy who was still playing the instrument that seemed to had been created just to be touched by him.
She finally understood. Just like him, on that day, she wanted to be able to create a song that could save a wandering and lonely soul because that was what he did to her.
I really... really... want to be like you.
As the boy hit the last note, he gazed up at the girl who was still standing beside him.
He was expecting to see her being overwhelmed, after all, she was being quiet the whole time he was playing.
Seijuro suspected that the girl would realize it by now, that the piano wasn't an easy and simple instrument. And yet... as he looked at her, he didn't know how to define that expression on her face.
He had always been so accurate when it came to observing and reading people yet somehow, he couldn't understand her.
That wasn't the face of someone giving up. He wouldn't call it as being amazed either.
Why did she have those in her eyes?
What did she come up with?
What was going on her mind when she heard him play?
His ability to ignore the unnecessary things suddenly left him. Yes, this should be considered unnecessary. And yes, it must be ignored but for some reason, he was left wondering. He knew he should not be curious about her actions. After all, she was just a new acquaintance, a replacement, a new attendant that his father hired for him.
He couldn't understand. Maybe his own emotion had been suppressed all this time that he became unable to connect with people, that even though he was good at reading them, he couldn't empathize at all.
On second thought, was he even supposed to know that? As far as he knew, he didn't need that kind of connection. What he needed was to do his best and everything would be fine.
So why...
As their eyes locked to each other, there was one question that remained unspoken. With his own voice hindered from coming out, his question would forever live in this moment for all he knew.
'Why is she crying?'