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On the third floor of Furin, there sat an abandoned music room. No one had entered the room in years, most didn't even know it ever was a music room to begin with, let alone that it still housed instruments. Of said instruments, a piano stood right in the center of the room. It was much too grand for a low-budget delinquent school, and its top was covered in a thick sheet of gray, sticky dust, but it was there with working ivory keys nonetheless.
The piano sat undisturbed, but not lonely. There was an almost decaying, simply designed acoustic guitar leaned up against one of the piano’s legs, and there were three violins with broken strings displayed on the wall right across from it, as well as about seven music stands scattered anywhere in the room, some laying, some broken. Sheet music littered the ground, but the dust had accumulated so thickly across the entire room that the papers had become practically unreadable now.
This room became lost to time where it sat at the end of the hall. Unfortunately, a delinquent school was never going to be the best place for such a room. It was truly a miracle that there was no damage to any of the instruments – at least, nothing that wasn’t fixable.
The room hadn’t seen a Furin face (or a face in general) in years, until one curious mind wandered the third floor halls, dead set on finding a quiet place to sit during lunch. This mind, of course, belonged to none other than Sakura Haruka. Though his intention was not to play music, he looked through the small window panel on the door to check the room’s inoccupancy. There was no sign above the door, nothing that alluded to the melodic nature of the room, Sakura had only seen its vacancy, pushed the stubborn door open, and went inside.
Frankly, simply saying Sakura was taken aback would be a massive understatement. He was completely floored by the grand black piano resting untouched in the middle of the room. To anyone else, this would have been a mundane discovery. They would have simply thought, ‘Oh cool, a piano,’ and went on with their life. Sakura, though, had a history with these things, and before he could think twice, he slowly approached the set of black and white keys.
He held his breath as he gently pressed a finger to one of the keys. Its sound reverberated around the room, hitting the walls like a ball in a pinball machine. It was pitchy, off-tune, it loudly displayed its age and the fact it hadn’t been touched in years. Sakura exhaled before tapping another key, and then another, and another, and before he realized it, he was perfectly reciting a song from the deepest corner of his memory, one back from when he was a small child whose feet couldn’t even graze the floor from where he sat on the piano bench. The song didn’t sound as he remembered it, not with the out-of-tune instrument he was currently playing it on, but it still struck all the same emotions it used to. What those emotions were exactly, Sakura had no clue.
His song was over before he knew it, and it left him with a dull ache in his chest. He lifted his hands off the keys and was about to bring them to his face, before he noticed the pitch black tint on his fingertips. He chuckled dryly and dusted his hands off on his jacket before turning on his heels and leaving the room.
Sakura returned to the room every chance he could, on lunches where he didn’t have patrols, oftentimes right after afternoon patrols, sometimes very early in the morning, before most other students had arrived. He’d long since wiped down the piano and picked up the stands and music sheets off the floor. For the first time in a long while, he’d wanted a room to be totally tidy and neat. At a quick glance, it reminded Sakura of the room he’d used to play piano in as a child, before he’d become a shell due to the bullying.
Naturally, his frequent disappearances sparked questions amongst his friends, who wanted to know where he’d run off to during lunch and after patrols. Each time it was brought up, Sakura would rack his brain for ways to change the subject. He intended to play for himself, because since he wasn’t actively learning, the thought of anyone listening to his music gave him a heightened sense of anxiety.
One afternoon, long after most students had gone home, he’d perched himself atop the bench, as per usual. He played a tune often deemed far too advanced for an amateur of teenage youth. It was one he’d heard back when he was a child, but had stuck to his subconscious for years. He didn’t completely remember the song, but he could fill in the gaps without issue.
As he played, his mind took him to a world where he was an esteemed pianist, seen not for his appearance, but for what he could craft with his own two hands. In this world, he wasn’t a hot-headed young man with violent tendencies, but rather a kindhearted, gentle person who had no trouble connecting with people. He played for large audiences, on giant, fancy stages. His music reached millions, and people loved him and his art.
When his hands played the final notes of the song, he was brought back to reality. Although his mind had transported him to an ideal world, he still smiled softly at the room around him. He stood up from where he sat on the bench, and turned to leave, only to find a familiar eyepatched figure stood against the shut door.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” Sakura shouted, face red as he pointed at the male in question.
“Admiring a performer,” Suo Hayato said with a face contorted into a sly grin.
With Suo, Sakura often struggled to tell what was going through his head. His shitty personality made it hard for Sakura to find the true emotion hidden within his various grins and smiles. Whether Suo was poking fun at him or not, Sakura was never quite sure.
“If you’re here to laugh, just do it already,” Sakura said tensely. He felt incredible shame as he shoved both hands in his pockets and stared at his own feet.
It was quiet for a moment before Suo left his position at the door to stand a foot away from Sakura.
“Laugh?” he asked, his voice softer than normal. Sakura glanced up. “Why would I laugh at you?” Suo asked. His lone eye shared no trace nor hint of mocking, no matter how hard Sakura tried to analyze it.
“‘Cause, like,” Sakura started, but hesitated, trying to find the right words. “It’s lame,” he settled for.
This, Suo laughed at, loud and only slightly obnoxious. Sakura felt his cheeks warm again. He was about to ask just what the hell was so funny before Suo calmed himself and spoke again.
“I want you to play for me,” he said, pushing Sakura back down on the bench with a firm hand on his shoulder. Suo sat down in the small space next to Sakura.
“What?” Sakura asked, not in his usual loud, accusatory tone, but in an abnormally quiet voice. His mismatched eyes were wide as they stared into Suo’s.
“I liked that song, play it again,” Suo said, more adamantly this time.
Sakura looked down at the keys in front of him. “It’s not gonna be, like, perfect or anythin’,” he muttered, “I haven’t heard the song in years.”
“I dunno,” Suo started, a playful tone in his voice, “it sounded pretty good from where I was.”
Sakura’s face reddened for the nth time, and he whipped his head to glare violently at the male next to him. “You, shut up!” He shouted, before bringing his voice to a low mumble Suo wouldn’t have heard if he was sitting an inch further. “What all… did you hear?”
Suo tilted his head. “The whole thing.”
Sakura spoke through his teeth, annoyed. “You already heard it once, I ain’t playin’ it again. Pick another song.”
The eyepatched boy chuckled softly in response. “Alright then, just play what you want,” he said, before adding in a quieter, more teasing voice, “I don’t expect you to be well versed in the type of music I like, anyway.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Sakura shouted, but after noticing the gentle smile on Suo’s face, he calmed and looked at the piano once more. “Seriously, you are so annoying.”
Pale, calloused fingers lifted to the piano keys once more, and without hesitation, they began their dance. Suo had heard this specific piece before, back when he was younger via tape recordings from his master’s old music collection. He didn’t know much about music at the time, but he’d been able to acknowledge the piece’s intricacy, and how complex it sounded. Watching Sakura perform it in front of him–just for him–was truly an immaculate gift to the eye.
Every note came all too natural to Sakura, almost like he wasn’t even trying yet somehow perfectly replicating the tune. His eyes were shut lightly, and his face was contorted into a rather peaceful state, something Suo had yet to see until now. Sakura’s fingers bore all the weight, taking pressure from the rest of his body. All in all, he looked more alive than ever before, exceeding his typical high-energy nature when it came to fighting. While he merely enjoyed fighting, he was born to make music.
Suo found himself inhaling sharply when Sakura played the final notes. He exhaled once the music was finished entirely. It was quiet for a few beats before Sakura turned to look at him.
“Was that… any good?” he asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever played that one before.” His face bore its usual pink hue whenever he was put on the spot or embarrassed, and his lips wore that same pout as they always did under those same circumstances.
Meeting his eyes, Suo allowed himself to stare for a moment, before his brain finally caught up and he placed a soft smile on lips again. “Wow, Sakura,” he said, a teasing lilt already coating his voice, “I didn’t know you were such a romantic when it came to the arts.”
“Shut up!” Sakura shouted, looking away with that same embarrassed expression. Suo laughed as Sakura stood up from the bench and moved towards the exit.
“Will you be here again tomorrow?” Suo asked once Sakura had stood just before the door.
“What’s it to ya’?” Sakura turned only his head to look over his shoulder.
Suo stood up from the bench. “Play for me again sometime, yeah?”
Sakura turned bright red once more before turning his head towards the door again. “Sure,” he muttered tentatively. “But if you tell anyone about this, I’m gonna kick your ass, understood?” His tone would've probably intimidated any normal person, but Suo was far from that, and he instead laughed.
“Aye, aye, captain,” he teased. Sakura grumbled something quiet before opening the door and fully leaving Suo alone in the room.
Once by himself, Suo sat on the bench once more. This time, he raised his own hands to the keys. He played a tune in which could only be described as the essence of pure love and adoration. He hoped dearly that Sakura hadn’t gone far enough for the song to still reach his ears, and that he understood the meaning behind each note.
The following morning, Suo had been the first in the music room this time. He sat at the bench, waiting patiently for the arrival of the piano-tile haired male. The male in question burst into the room not five minutes after Suo’s arrival, his face yet again as red as cherry tomatoes.
Sakura pointed at Suo, avoiding eye contact. “What the hell was that song?” he shouted.
“What song?” Suo asked teasingly.
“You know what song! The one you played after I left.”
“You mean this one?” Suo turned to the piano and was geared to play the song once more, before Sakura stopped him.
“I… I got it,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.
Suo stared for a moment, in his own subdued shock. Then, he smiled, turning to face Sakura again with a genuine smile. His cheeks were dusted red as well.
“You got it,” he repeated, not a question, but a statement.
After a brief silence, Sakura moved to sit down next to him. “You could’ve told me you played too.”
“Yeah, but this was more fun,” Suo said simply.
Sakura stared at him for a moment, then gave a slight smile. “Idiot.”