Chapter Text
A young man stands alone in his- no. No, okay, you’re not doing this.
Your name is SUNNIE KOMORI and you are currently rather occupied by doing nothing. You’re laying on the floor of your very empty respiteblock, staring up at the equally empty ceiling. You don’t even have a recuperacoon in here. Just your husktop and… well, your lusus is here, too. MEWO is curled up in the corner, not all that far from you. Your friends still seem convinced that Mewo isn’t a lusus at all, but she raised you like one. So that’s what you call her, despite her odd colour.
Mostly, you’re waiting for something to happen. Maybe MARRIE could message you, or any other member of your vibrant cast of friends. Give you something to do, other than sit here in what is basically empty space. You don’t actually care all that much about interaction, but you and Marrie have been planning something for a long time, now, and you’d really like to know if the so-called game was about to be afoot.
Oh, would you look at that. You have a message.
transientArpeggio [TA] began trolling tenebrousDreamer [TD]
TA: H3y th3r3, str4ng3r!
TD: …Oh. hellO MaRRIe…
TD: …Is theRe news…
TA: =:D
TA: Th4t th3r3 1s, Sunn13!
TD: …can I have It…
TA: Hold on!!!
transientArpeggio [TA] ceased trolling tenebrousDreamer [TD]
Ah.
That was, of course, Marrie. Oh, right, yes, she’s the Heiress. Or, um, an Heiress. There’s… a few, right now? Not that you really pay attention to any of that. All you really care about is the fact that Marrie is the only reason your sorry self is… not currently horribly culled. She’s about two sweeps your senior, and basically plucked you from the brooding caverns herself. She used to say it was because she thought you looked “neat”, but you’ve come to realize that she mostly does things guided by her pusher.
You don’t really know what to call your relationship with Marrie. She was like a little lusus, sometimes. Not quite the same, but it was something like that. If there was no one else in the world who was, you knew she’d be in your corner.
Which was why it was so frustrating that she had seemingly vanished.
Seriously! Who does that? If you were a more talkative troll, you’d be screaming at your screen, shaking your fist in the air! Woe, woe is Sunnie! But… that would probably wake up Mewo, so you wouldn’t do that even if you were the type to.
You sigh, long suffering, and place your husktop on your lap. The familiar wiggling warmth has grown to be something of a comfort to you. It’s an old husktop, for sure, but it’s not exactly like you can afford a new one. Marrie would probably buy you one if you asked. You didn’t want to do that, though.
And like that, you’re wondering where Marrie went off too. Again.
> Sunnie: Be Marrie
Yeah, no, sorry. As much as you’d love to get into her head, right now, you’re busy being stuck waiting. You could, of course, go on and message one of your other friends. They don’t know what you and Marrie are up to, other than small hints and whispers from time to time, but they’d certainly get your mind off of Marrie’s cryptic ways. Other than maybe AUBREY. Aubrey could be cryptic sometimes. But that was usually in a “so-pissed-off-she’s-calm-again” kind of way. Usually at you. Or KEL. With Kel, it was justified, at least. What with their… nevermind.
tenebrousDreamer [TD] began trolling agronomicalGeranium [AG]
TD: …baszIl…
AG: [(°ohh)]
AG: [(°hello sunniee)]
AG: [(°how are youu)]
TD: …fIne. bORed…
AG: [(°arent you alwayss)]
AG: [(°/;^^\)]
TD: …MOstly…
TD: …I was talkIng tO MaRRie…
TD: …but shes vanIshed tO dO…
TD: …”sOMethIng” I guess…
AG: [(°that does sound like herr)]
AG: [(°shes busy a lot huhh)]
TD: …yeah…
AG: [(°im happy to keep you company in the meantimee)]
TD: …heheh…
TD: …thanks…
AG: [(°of coursee!!)]
It’s hard to keep secrets from Baszil, especially for this long. Since Marrie is being difficult, you kind of just want to tell him now. You won’t, because that’d make Marrie sad, but you think about it for a moment. It doesn’t feel right keeping such important information from your moirail, though. Even if it’s for a good reason.
AG: [(°do you know what marrie is up tooo)]
TD: …yeah, kInda…
TD: …what she *was* dOIng at least…
TD: …befORe she vanIshed…
AG: [(°ahh)]
AG: [(°i hope she gets back to you soonn /^u^\)]
TD: …thanks baszIl…
AG: [(°mhmm!!)]
AG: [(°ohh)]
AG: [(°sorry hold onn)]
AG: [(°aubrey is trolling mee)]
agronomicalGeranium [AG] is an idle troll.
TD: ……
agronomicalGeranium [AG] is no longer an idle troll.
AG: [(°ugh.)]
AG: [(°its about kel againn)]
TD: …yOuRe nOt theIR auspIstIce…
TD: …why Is it yOuR pRObleM?…
AG: [(°sunniee!!!)]
TD: …Its true. yOuRe nOt…
AG: [(°hmphh)]
TD: …baszIl…
AG: [(°….)]
AG: [(°i know im not but i dont want to just do nothingg)]
AG: [(°she asked for my helpp)]
TD: …aubRey Is nOt yOuR keepeR…
TD: …dO yOu *want* tO help aubRey wIth heR bOy tROubles?…
AG: [(°…not reallyy)]
TD: …dOnt then…
AG: [(°but ii)]
AG: [(°youre rightt)]
AG: [(°thank you sunniee)]
TD: …Of cOuRse…
TD: …always…
You’re about to come up with something else to talk to Baszil about when the side of your screen changes. Just out of the corner of your eye, you see a familiar fuschia dot take over his bronze one. Finally a part of you shouts. Of course, not out loud. Again: Mewo is napping.
TD: …nn…
AG: [(°??)]
TD: …MaRRIe fInally tROlled Me back…
AG: [(°oh goodd)]
AG: [(°you can go back to scheming with herr (hehe))]
AG: [(°i dont mindd)]
TD: …see yOu lateR…
tenebrousDreamer [TD] ceased trolling agronomicalGeranium [AG]
You planned to get back to Marrie right away, but… ough… you suddenly realize that you’re kind of hungry. You sigh and stand up, balancing your husktop in one frond and exiting your respiteblock for the first time that night. Was it the middle of the night? Naturally. Always, for you. With one free frond, you open your door in search of your mealblock. You’re at least… seventy percent sure that there’s some steak in your thermal hull? Mostly sure. And Hero schoolfed your sorry self on how to actually irradiate your food without getting sick. You wanted to be mad at him but you… couldn’t.
You put down your husktop, up on the hunger plane, and go digging. Your previous goal has been momentarily forgotten! Great job, bulgeface! Food is more important right now, is all. Eventually, you sit back down with some steak that probably would look inedible to just about anyone else, and are reminded of Marrie finally getting back to you. And now you’ve kept her waiting! Ugh.
transientArpeggio [TA] began trolling tenebrousDreamer [TD]
TA: Sunn13!!!
tenebrousDreamer [TD] is an idle troll.
TA: Sunn13?
tenebrousDreamer [TD] is an idle troll.
TA: Um… yoo-hoo? 1s 4nybody hom3?
tenebrousDreamer [TD] is an idle troll.
TA: SUNN13---- KOMOR1!!!!
tenebrousDreamer [TD] is no longer an idle troll.
TD: …hI MaRRIe…
TA: Took you long 3nough!
TA: Hmph!!!
TD: …nn… I was gettIng sOMethIng tO eat…
TA: 1’m gl4d you w3r3 t4k1ng c4r3 of yours3lf! Buuut 1 w4s worr13d!!!!
TD: …sORRy MaRRIe…
TD: …can I have the news now?…
TA: Hmmmm…
TA: Wh4t do you s4y?
TD: …MaRRIe…
TD: …-_-…
TA: Ok4y, ok4yyyy, 1 g3t 1t! You w1n m1st3r!!!
TD: …-v-…
TA: 4lr1ght! Gu3ss wh4t? Gu3ss, gu3ss, gu3ss!!!!
TD: …what?…
TA: 1t’s f1n4lly r34dy!
TA: Oh!!! 1’m soooo 3---XC1T3-D!!!!
Huh. You were suddenly feeling pretty excited, yourself! One might even call you ECSTATIC! In fact, one does! You, yourself, are saying that!
TD: …cOOl…
You say instead of actually expressing this. She’ll know. She always does.
TA: 1 c4n’t w41t to t3ll 3v3ryon3!!!!
TD: …hOw lOng have we been wORkIng On thIs agaIn?…
You know the answer to that question, of course. But you want to let her talk. Her excitement is infectious, and as exhausting as that can be, right now you’re all for it.
TA: Oh, you know! Only F1V3 P3-RIG3---3----S!!!!!!!
TD: …heh…
TD: …bet yOu wIsh It Only tOOk fOuR…
TA: Hush, you!!!
TD: …Ok…
Is it time to stop being cryptic about what the two of you’ve been working on yet? Sure, why not.
One of Marrie’s seadwelling buddies is a paleonterrorist. That’s what she told you, anyways. They apparently came across something interesting while exploring some lusus bones. Since you’re (kind of) a seadweller, she enlisted you to help check it out. Because it spooked her buddy, but that didn’t scare Marrie off.
Or, well. That was the plan. Marrie forgot the very important detail of: you can’t swim. You may have some mutant seadweller bits, but you have no interest in swimming. Or in learning. The sea freaks you out. More than the land does, that is. Also, you’re not sure if your gills are functional and you’re not willing to test it out.
So mostly, you sat on the shore as she “charmed” some bronzebloods into actually charming some sea lusii to help her bring it to the surface. You, uh. Yeah. She was a highblood.
Eventually, the bones were on the surface and she dragged you into checking them out. There was a bunch of old East-Alternian text carved into the bones. Describing some sort of song. That’s the gist of what you could read. Marrie’s East-Alternian was better than yours. She said it was a duet. You… both played instruments. You hadn’t played yours in a long time, but she had to practice basically constantly. Somehow, they were the right ones.
What the bones didn’t have was the actual music. Alternian musicians were notoriously bad at writing down their music, though. And East-Alternia had a completely different style of music theory than you knew. So even if you found the music, there was no telling if you could ever properly decipher it.
Marrie took this as a challenge, of course. And since you were there, you were dragged into it, too. You didn’t have much to go off of. Other than the fact that the composer was probably a fishtroll and East-Alternian. Highbloods were the only trolls who had the time and influence to become major musicians and East-Alternians are generally regarded as artisans. It did not help much to know just that. You had effectively zero leads.
Of course, Marrie didn’t care at all. Instead, she just bumped your side and gave you a conspiratorial wink. Since it was Marrie, you decided not to question it. She’d figure it out. She always did.
It still took nearly a perigee before you had any leads. You wanted to ask HERO for help. He’s smart. He was gonna be a docterrorist when he Ascended. Marrie told you not to, though, because if she found the song: she wanted it to be a surprise. You complained that he and Marrie were both rapidly approaching ascension and there might not be time. She laughed you off.
But, right, the lead. It came from one of Aubrey’s friends. A goldblood with a small frame but a wicked grin. You had to bribe her with more junk food than you could reasonably afford. Her name was like… Berley or something. But she was also a pretty decent psionic and even better with tech. A picture-perfect Helmswoman. That’s what Marrie said.
“So whaddya want from me?” She had asked, lacing her prongs in front of her before lazily folding them behind her nug, “‘cause I can probably do it, but you’ve gotta pay me extra to keep this from Aubrey, y’know?”
To this, you sighed. You were the one who had to talk to her. Having Marrie just… go around doing stuff like that was a bad idea. She was also slow.
”Nnn…” you remember almost growling, “Another box of Cruel Aid and some seadweller tafflee.”
”I like your style!” She’d cackled, her ganderbulbs a blue-and-green glow of excitement behind her glasses, ”Aubrey knows how to pick ‘em. My silence is as good as bought!”
It must have been, because she never so much as grumbled a word of it to Aubrey. It had, apparently, taken a few nights for her to get a ping on anything, though. Because she only ended up reporting back when you were fast asleep in the middle of the day.
The message she’d left was simple enough. Mostly just the information you asked for, so you could report back to Marrie with what you found out.
y○, grubbie! g○t ur tr○ll methinks. yneed a ○ld as bulge fishtr○ll wh○ c○uld speak eastalternian? n wr○te music? meet the literal actual C○mp○ser. hatchname pedr○h siylva. pretty sweet, eh? if yneed a tr○ll wh○d write the kinda s○ng ur after theyre ur guy, m pretty sure. *grumble*
Despite her kind of… crass way of saying it, that was exactly the kind of thing you needed. You thanked her in a corresponding message, she told you to lose her trolltag, you told her absolutely not, and then you filled Marrie in. She was overjoyed at the breakthrough, and immediately ordered access of everything the Composer had ever written.
It was a start, but not an end. Duets between piano and violin weren’t uncommon and the Composer had written several. Despite this, Marrie said that none of them had felt quite right. You had to agree. From what you could read of the bones, the tone of these duets was never what you were after. You’d kind of gotten bored, but Marrie was so determined that she absolutely wouldn’t let you back out now.
You understood why she was so insistent. You didn’t at first, but you got it now. She was rapidly approaching Ascension. She’d be the first tyrian to make it to her Ascension Day in sweeps, and probably the last for the foreseeable future. It wasn’t a well-kept secret that she would die that day. Her Imperious Condescension had what amounted to an eternity on her, an eternity of culling Heiresses far more powerful than her. Marrie was a lot of things. She was not a fighter.
... The duet was a goodbye gift.
A goodbye to everyone, but especially them. To Baszil and Kel, bright lights in the dark, too warm and bright to go uncrushed by the weight of their culture. To Aubrey, who she treated like royalty in her own right, promising to dye her hair to match Aubrey's own after her Ascension. To Hero and their red, a flush so natural and perfect that it seemed right out of a movie. And… to you, too. For all the jokes she made “When I’m Empress”. For the fact that she’d never get to name you the Sunshine.
Maybe it was a goodbye to herself, too. She gave everything her all, but she never seemed as fully part of something as she did when she was playing. A sendoff on a good note, rather than an inevitable one.
So you helped her find it. You learned that, sure, the Composer wrote music and knew East-Alternian, but they weren’t an East-Alternian Musician. You found out that they worked with trolls who also weren’t East-Alternian, but spoke it, too. You couldn’t find his proper name, but you found his castename: Bowwen.
It didn’t answer the question of why the duet was talked about in bones, but it was the strongest lead you had. So you followed it. These musicians were old. Like… Sufferer times old. Eventually: you hit violet.
The duet had never been played together. You had all the pieces. Just… not in the right order. It was split in two. Half by one, half by the other. It was a duet in name only, because it had never been played together. You told Marrie this and she went to work, going through each and every violin and piano piece either of them had ever written. Until she found it. “Du” (“Of”, you’d originally called it) for the piano, and “Et” (“And”) for the violin. Of piano and Violin. Duet.
After that, it was a matter of translation. Putting the music into a language you understood. You wanted to send it somewhere, so maybe it’d be done faster. Marrie still wanted it to be a secret. You didn’t want to argue. As she went, Marrie would tell you excitedly how much the pieces made sense together. They filled the space between the other just right. They’d been written for each other, but never joined as one. There became a certain weight to what you were doing. It became more than just the two of you. It was unfinished business, reuniting two halves of the same whole.
And now it was done.
You wanted to practice first, to prepare, but it felt far too weighty. Like anything you could do would take away from the finality of it. The two of you would play it, apart from each other, just to get a feel for it. The first time it’d be one would be for them. For the people Marrie will leave behind.
TA: 1 h4v3 your copy!
Something clawed at you, nerves you hadn’t felt before.
TD: …nn…
TA: 4r3 you r34dy four 1t? 1 c4n hold off!!!
TD: …nO. send It tO Me…
TA: You’v3 got 1t!
transientArpeggio [TA] has sent the following attachment: 3t_4_V1ol1n_F1n4l_Du3t_Copy.doc
TA: H3r3 1t 1s!!!!
You click the attachment, feeling your claw clack against your husktop. It downloads as a file and you open that, too. The sheet music is perfectly formatted for you, incredibly clear and direct and the desire to play it makes you itch. Still: this brings you one step closer to the end.
You aren’t stupid. You’re basically a tyrian’s ward. Once Marrie is gone, there’s nothing to save you. You’re protected because she’s an Heiress. Even if no one knows the full extent of your mutations (not even Marrie, you don’t think), you’re not exactly subtle. Without her, you’re a sitting squawkbeast. You’d be lucky if you made it through the week.
TD: …It lOOks gOOd… veRy pROfessIOnAl…
TA: 4www!!!! Th4nk you!!!!!!!
TA: 1’m r34lly h4ppy w1th 1t!!!
TA: 4nd w1th m1n3, too! =:D
TD: …yOu shOuld be…
TD: …yOu dId a gOOd jOb…
TA: 1’M SO SOOO SOOOO 3-XC1T3---D!!!!
TA: 1 w4nt to st4rt pr4ct1c1ng r1ght 4w4y!
TD: …when aRe we gOIng tO tell theM?…
TA: Soon, 1 th1nk.
TA: L3ss th4n a w33k.
TA: So th3r3’s t1m3 to g3t 3v3ryon3 tog3th3r. 4nd t1m3 for us to pr4ct1c3, too.
TD: …Ok…
TA: Ok4y.
transientArpeggio [TA] ceased trolling tenebrousDreamer [TD]
She didn’t say that it was because her time was running out. She knew, of course she knew, but Marrie didn’t want anyone she cared about to suffer if she could help it. So of course she didn’t draw attention to it. Because she knew that you knew, so either of you saying it would just hurt more. It was better this way, to leave it unsaid.
You had a week for the song. And three for Marrie.
You don’t see your friends in real life very often. Mostly just Marrie. Sometimes Aubrey, since she’s on the cooler side. When you travel far from the coast, far from where Marrie can get to you, it’s usually for a reason. Like with Berley. You’ve wanted to leave, stray further in, but you know there’s a certain level of danger.
So you’ve only ever spoken face-to-face with your moirail a frondful of times. Kel and Hero less than that. They share a hive, them and their… “broodthers” thing. Kel used it like a clown, sometimes. “Bro.” It’d get him culled one day if he wasn’t careful. He wouldn’t be. He’d do it on purpose.
... You’re a little bit nervous. You haven’t played in front of anyone since you were, what, six? And that was just Marrie. You might sound bad. You might sound terrible. Marrie bumps you affectionately, her sharp pupils glinting an undeniable hue. She smiles, sharp and toothy but comforting all the same, and you remember to breathe. She’s nervous, too. She wears it a lot more gracefully than you do.
Playing it in the open wasn’t the plan, originally, but it was how things ended up working out. In the middle of nowhere. Far away for no one to hear and on flat enough land for no one to sneak up unnoticed. You got there before anyone else, you and Marrie did. So you could set up. Music stands and instruments and tuning. But not playing. Not yet. Just the a measure or so, to set the tempo. You’d be relying on each other to stay consistent.
Aubrey is the first to arrive. Her hive was the closest, so of course she is, but you still take a moment to breathe her in. Aubrey commands attention in a way no one else you know does. She’s a leader, and one that carries it differently than Marrie. Her weapon is almost always out, a bat, a club, like she’s daring a clown to question her. She used to be softer, hold authority playfully. She smirks when she sees you.
”Hey, Sunnie,” she says simply putting her oh-so-familiar weapon away, “long time no see.”
You nod in greeting. She takes this as the extent of your interaction for now (she’s right), and basically leaps at Marrie. She’s not quite as tall, especially if you count Marrie’s horns, but the force almost knocks both of them over. The two devolve into a fit of giggles.
”Welcome to the party, Aubrey!!” Marrie cheers, gesturing at the set up (and the lawnmeal blanket and basket).
She laughs, “So it’s a party, eh?”
“You bet!”
Hero and Kel, of course, arrive as a pair. Kel’s walking backwards, casual as anything, rambling on about something. Probably sports. Hero, to his credit, is doing his very best to look fully engaged, even as he urges Kel along. He looks decidedly away when he notices Aubrey sticking out her strut stick. He even side-steps as Kel, predictably, trips in a major way practically on top of her. You look away, face flushing. Gross.
”Get a block, you two!~” Marrie quips in a sing-song voice.
The “SHUT UP!” she receives is in perfect unison as they untangle from each other.
Hero sits down next to her on the lawnmeal blanket, taking her frond in such a sickly sweet red sort of way you barely choke back the desire to gag mockingly. Marrie plants a kiss on the corner of his mouth, leaving a soft fuschia mark. This time you do gag mockingly at them. She shoots you a look, but you just huff. Ugh… you’re quad-choked. Keeping your pride, you go shuffle through your music again.
You aren’t shocked when Baszil is the last to arrive. Not just because there was no one else after him to arrive. He didn’t live the furthest from the location, but… well. He walked here. You can tell. You don’t even need to hear the sound of his pumpbiscuit to know. He does a good job hiding it, it isn’t all that obvious when he breathes in short gasps of breath, the way his body heaves with the effort. But you know. Just like he barely had to look at you for a moment to know that you’re nervous. And little more than that for him to realize you know.
You place your sheet music down in an only slightly messy stack and quickly travel over to him. Typically, you aren’t the type to engage in contact. You also know you’ll be mocked for this. But he’s your moirail. So you wrap your arms around him and he stiffens in surprise for a moment, just a moment, before gratefully returning the contact. You can feel his pulse on your chin. Baszil's warm. It’s nice.
You sit there for a moment, even as Aubrey jeers at you and Marrie laughs. Still, you have to start eventually. So you begrudgingly pull away from the hug. It’s okay. Because Baszil’s breathing has evened out and your pushers both pulse slower than they had been. Almost together.
Everyone finds a place on the lawnmeal blanket and the six of you settle into a comforting routine. It’s easy to talk to all of them, as easy as anything. A good distraction from the fact that you’ll be performing soon. From the real weight of what this is. You all know. Obviously. You think the only one who shows it is Hero. The glances he steals are longer than normal, deeper. Like he’s trying to memorize every part of her.
The food is gone fast, but no one is willing to move on yet. Baszil takes some photos of all of you, smiling together. He talks about his garden and Hero talks about the caverns. Kel and Aubrey talk about sports and gangs. Marrie pitches in with comments about baking and music. You don’t say anything, but that’s how things always go. You’re content just listening.
It can’t last forever. The sun will rise eventually and you only have so much time. So long after the food’s gone, after the well of conversation starts to dry up, Marrie gets to her feet. She’s a little unstable at first, she always is on land, but she waves everyone off before anyone can even try to help her. Her smile is as sharp and warm as it ever is, but the rest of her face betrays her.
”For a few perigees, as we’ve told you all, Sunnie and I have been working on finding a song together,” she says it like it’s a script she’s memorized. It wouldn’t shock you much if that’s what it was.
Hero nods along with her, encouraging, “How long, exactly? I’m impressed by how well you kept it hidden!”
She laughs, and it lights her face up for a moment, “About five!”
Kel grins, it’s a little lopsided, “Bet you wish it was four, huh?”
You point at him, sputtering out a laugh. That’s what you said!!! You continue to cackle as Marrie turns to both of you, a soft pink covering her cheeks as she tries to regain her dignity. Hero clears his throat, looking to the side. Aubrey started laughing as soon as Kel opened his mouth and Baszil is, kind as can be, covering his trap to stifle his own giggle. Marrie huffs, but you can tell there’s no fire behind it.
She gives you another side-long glance and you take it as your cue to stand up as well.
”It wasn’t easy to find, I’ll tell you that!” She continues swiftly, “All we had to go off of was that it was a duet! For the piano and violin!”
“Of Piano And Violin. ‘Du Et’.” She pronounces each syllable carefully, “That’s what we’ve decided to call it.”
It’s your turn to talk. You shove your hands deep into the black fabric of your pants pockets, “... it was written by two different trolls. One for the piano and the other for violin. I don’t think anyone’s put the parts together before now.”
”Before now.” Marrie agrees easily, bobbing slightly with excitement, “I- we want to share something special with you.”
You all, together, help clean up. Dishes in the basket, blanket folded neatly and put on top. Slow and careful, taking longer than you need so as to drag this time together out just a bit more. So it’s as vast as you can possibly make it. Marrie sits down in front of her piano. Now it’s really your cue.
You’re out of practice. Your bow hold isn’t quite right and your violin squeaks embarrassingly a few times as you put it in place. Your friends smile behind you, but for now you face Marrie. She starts the song, she’s the one that sets the pace. Your only real job is to follow. She taps out the rhythm with her claws for a moment. It isn’t to help you, she starts in a different time than you do. It’s for her. Marrie lets out a slow and controlled breath, squeezing her eyes shut for a long moment.
And then she starts to play.
The instant the first note rings out, the air around you shifts. It feels colder, just slightly, like the gentle tin had poured over you. The first note is soon followed by a second, a third, and Marrie has begun the song. It’s beautiful and controlled. It seems effortless, though you know it’s not true. She’s moving slower than you were expecting, giving herself just a little more time to think between notes.
The first few phrases are all her. Piano always felt softer than violin to you. It could be loud, overwhelming, but with piano a wrong note was just sour. For you it was a squeak. So it seemed gentler. Here: it was nothing but. Soft and melodic. It sounded like sorrow but also like safety. Something twists in you, deep in you. You don’t want this to end. You don’t want her to go, not when she’s all this.
None of your friends speak, but you know they’re listening. You still have time to wait, to listen to her and hold onto them. It’ll be over soon. This song, and then all of this. You know, she knows, they all do. For now: you wait for your turn.
The melody grows sweeter and quicker as it approaches your entrance. The waltzing melody an invitation. “Come join me” it begs and you will, soon. Just… not yet. You want more time, but time doesn’t listen to you. Not you. Because Marrie is a measure away. You don’t have time, you have nothing. You ready your bow.
The melody you play back at her isn’t as soft. It’s not as sweet or as kind, not as even. Your notes vibrate in the air, unsure and melancholic. They make the story you’re telling change. You didn’t realize how happy Marrie’s part would sound until you joined in. It isn’t fair. Maybe this duet should have stayed in half. To save the first from the second. A happy lie instead of this reality.
The air was different. It didn’t feel different, it just… was. No one has said anything, but the way they don’t is different. All you can see is your instrument and Marrie. Something is different. You want to stop. You don’t. Now you have to see this through, because when it’s done, it’s done forever. This is the only moment this will ever exist, it’ll be over as soon as it ends.
You’ve reached the climax of the piece. With it, you and Marrie trade. She plays underneath you, accenting your melody, elevating it. The tone is the same, it’s one. These pieces were written for each other. Du, et.
Your violin rings in the air for just a moment longer than her piano does, held for an eternity. And then she’s back in. A breath of a beat before you. The same melody as before, but so much more than that. You follow her back into it this time, there’s no waiting. There’s nothing. Just this. You play in tandem and you think you hear someone gasp behind you. But it doesn’t matter because you’re busy. With this. The song.
She plays a few arpeggios, graceful and flawless, and the piano is holding. You’re holding too, but you think you played that last note wrong. You play the next chord together. And the next. There are long stretches between each, where the air between you echoes. You’ve closed your eyes. You don’t know how long they’ve been closed for.
Your last note is played together, but she cuts off far before you too.
You taste metal. The air vibrates. You’re expecting cheering, laughter from Marrie. What meets you is silence, deafening. That twisting in your core grabs you, writhes and shakes and it feels like you’re being choked from the inside. You blink the darkness out of your eyes, holding your violin like a vice.
It’s impossibly bright when you do. The world is bathed in colour, like you’ve never seen before. LIke if you touch it it could wither away. It’s bathed in light and you panic for a moment. But you don’t burn. There is a sign above you, candy-coloured, pink and purple and flowers twist around it impossibly.
”THE LAND OF DREAMS AND SHADOWS” it reads in bold text.
”Welcome to Dream Space” says the line below it.
You are alone.