Fruits Basket Fan Fiction ❯ Ebony and Ivory ❯ Lost in the Music ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket. Natsuki Takaya does.

 

AN: I use the Japanese style of writing names with the last name first. Also, you've probably already noticed I use Japanese titles, such as tencho (shop owner) and sensei (teacher). I also use -san, -kun, and -chan, but I doubt I need to explain those.

 

AN 2: Until further notice, the story is going to be from Saito-san's perspective. I thought it would be interesting to see Yuki and the Sohmas from an external perspective.

 

 

CHAPTER 2: Lost in the Music

 

Saito Kanto sat in his music shop. It was a slow day, and he was simultaneously disappointed and relieved. His store was losing business. Something in the back of his mind said it was his own fault, but he ignored it. He was relieved today because he did not like people. He was not a friendly man. He hadn't always been like this. Five years ago his friends would have said he was a very sociable person. But then his wife had died in childbirth, taking the child with her. She had been musical, as he was, and they had written songs and played together. Now he kept the shop because he knew she would have wanted him to, but he had not touched the piano since her death. He hadn't even played at her funeral.

 

Every now and then, the demonstration piano that sat in the corner of his shop would call to him, but he had learned to ignore it. Instead, he became irritated when customers would play it, constantly flitting from piece to piece, never quite certain what they wanted. Always asking for one composer or the other. He wished they would have some idea of what they were looking for before they came in.

 

Saito dusted the top of a shelf before replacing the music on it. He heard the door of the shop open behind him, but didn't turn around. No one said anything. At last, he looked. There stood a young boy with dark, purplish-grey hair. He wasn't looking at Saito. He was looking at the piano. After a moment, Saito pretended to ignore him, although he watched out of the corner of his eye. The boy looked around the shop warily, then relaxed a little and sat down on the piano bench, with no music. He gently touched the keys, as though they would break if he used them too hard. Or perhaps it was a caress. Saito couldn't tell. Then the boy began to play. Just scales at first, haltingly, but then a few different types of chords. He began to smile almost at once, a smile that was quiet, yet sincere. He played for a while on his own, very simple things, and then began looking through some of the piano books that others had left for Saito to pick up. He opened them, and played those too.

 

By now, Saito was interested, but he pretended not to be. He wondered if the boy knew these songs already, but had to decide against it when the boy moved on to his fifth piece without hesitation. It was certainly simple music, but to play even simple music at first try took talent.

 

Then customers began to come in, because they heard music. They looked at the child with interest, perhaps admiring his looks, for he was very comely. Then they would look around the shop. Saito sighed. At least the boy was good for business. He normally would have objected to so much playing and so little buying, especially since the child was taking up the piano when customers might want to use it, but he forbore to interrupt, as did the other customers. It may have been because the child seemed so lost inside himself and the music that no one thought he would hear them. It may have been that they wanted to listen. But it was probably fascination more than anything that kept people from interrupting. The boy was utterly silent except for his music, and he smiled as though at a dream. Piece by piece, he stumbled through but played, completely oblivious to all that was around him. He might have been a dream himself

 

He played for hours, never stopping to eat or even get a drink. It was as though all he needed at this moment was the music—that alone could sustain him. At last, however, the sun began to set, and Saito felt an unfamiliar sense of worry for the tranquil boy.

 

“Young man?” The child didn't respond. The man approached, and tapped him on the shoulder. The boy started violently, like one wakened from a dream. He stared at Saito for several seconds. It was as though he had completely forgotten where he was. At last, comprehension came to his face.

 

“T… Tencho-san?” So he did speak.

 

“You've been here quite a while.”

 

The boy's eyes widened. “I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude… that is… I haven't played the piano in so long, and… I didn't think. I'm sorry!”

 

Saito smiled gently, his first smile in nearly five years. “It's quite all right. I only think your parents might be worried.”

 

“I… I live with my cousin. He won't worry as long as I come back before dinner.”

 

“I believe you're too late for that. It's nearly eight o'clock.”

 

“What?” The boy stood, shaking. “Do you… have a phone?”

 

Saito frowned. The phone was normally not for customer use, but he supposed he could make an exception. “You can use the store phone.” He handed it to the boy. He dialed what Saito assumed was his home number. Saito listened to his one-sided conversation.

 

“Hello, Shigure? … Yes, I'm fine… I'm sorry… I got caught up, um, reading.” The boy turned pale. Saito watched him curiously. “It's okay. I'll come home now… No, you don't have to come and get me. I'm fine… Shigure, it's not that far.” The boy was trembling now. Saito realized he was very afraid of someone finding out about his playing, though he couldn't imagine why. He felt a sudden impulse.

 

“I'll walk you home,” he said, surprising himself. Why was he so taken with this boy?

 

The child looked at him and hesitated. “Shigure, the sh-, um, librarian said he'll walk me home. Okay? … Okay, I'll see you in a few minutes.” He hung up the phone, sighing shakily. “Thank you, Tencho-san.”

 

“What's your name?”

 

“Yuki.”

 

“Just Yuki?”

 

The boy set his lips defiantly. “Yes.”

 

Saito started to smile again, then caught himself and frowned. At this rate he would become a philanthropist. “Well, let's go.”

 

It was closing time anyway, so he locked up his shop and walked out with his mysterious, young, non-customer. After all this, the boy hadn't even bought anything. “You have a lot of secrets, don't you?” he ventured.

 

Yuki frowned. “I'm not supposed to play the piano. I don't think Shigure would tell. But he might. I can't take chances.”

 

“Why wouldn't you be allowed to play the piano?”

 

Yuki remained silent until they reached the edge of a forest. “I'm okay from here,” he said. “Thank you.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You live in a forest?”

 

Yuki didn't answer. “Thank you, Tencho-san.”

 

Saito scratched his head and watched Yuki walk into the forest. He felt nothing akin to affection for this child. However, he was intrigued.

 

“You can come back if you want,” he called softly. Yuki stopped, but didn't turn. “I won't tell anyone. And I can let you know what time to go home if you want me to.”

 

Yuki paused for another moment, and then walked on.