tampered | Log; Ongoing

Log; Ongoing

When; Tonight, March 1
Rating; G
Characters; Sakura Mizrahi [

freakyfanboy]
Summary; Autor comes to visit an upset Sakura after Rubedo's departure.
Log;

It had been so long since he had been gone that she had forgotten how quiet things could get. There were days that he had been absorbed in his work, but she could tiptoe past and listen to his murmurings, make small little cakes and leave them outside his door, and if he left the Durandal, she knew he would return.

But he was gone, and there was something in the interminable finality of it that made the girl want to curl up into a small little ball and cry- even when she had been at home in the Yuriev Institute she had known he would return the next day. It was like going back to the days before- back so far back...

Sakura shook her head. She couldn't let it overwhelm her- she had friends here still, they cared, they were coming, and she didn't want to cry just yet. She resituated herself- she was sitting on the piano bench, network connection sitting forgotten once more on her bed. Autor was coming to visit her, and she ducked her head downwards, letting her hair fall in front of her face as she put her hand to her cheek, blinking hard. She was going to try her best.

It took so much energy.

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Autor looked uneasily around the large ship as he entered it. He'd always felt a bit out of place when he was in the Durandal--the ship was so massive and completely unlike anything that existed in his world. It was funny to think that this place was a home for someone...

It would be rather large to live in by yourself, Autor thought as he made his way to Sakura's room. It almost seemed as though his footsteps echoed throughout the ship (although perhaps that was his imagination getting away from him). Let's see...another left and then...there. Autor knocked on Sakura's door. "Sakura?"

Sakura jumped as the knock on her door sounded- she'd been waiting for it, but still. She uncurled herself from the piano bench and stood, walking to the door, footsteps hurried and slow at the same time, resulting in a slightly stumbling path to the door.

The brunette pushed the button to open the door-- her hand was shaking, so she dropped it and clenched the white fabric of the dress she wore as the door slid open with a hiss, revealing the boy's shoes in front of her eyes. She didn't dare try to meet his eyes just yet.

"Autor..."

The boy's mouth immediately bent down in the shape of a frown when the door opened. He knew she must be upset--she'd told him of her feelings for Rubedo after all. But it still bothered him to see her looking so sad. The way her head was bowed...it made her seem strangely small. Their height difference had always been apparent, but when he was staring down at the top of her head and watching her hand clutch the fabric of her dress...it almost felt as though he was towering over her. (It wasn't a very comfortable feeling, and strangely enough it didn't make him feel that powerful, either.)

"Hey," he responded softly when she spoke his name. He stepped forward into her room, then gently put a hand on her shoulder, bending down slightly. "How...how are you?"

It was a stupid question to ask, with an obvious answer. But what else could he say?

Sakura took a few steps back, and turned as he came into the room, gaze making it up to the knees of his trousers before he spoke.

And the hand on her shoulder made something in her spring loose- she had been so coiled into herself, feeling so isolated and alone, and desperately solitary-

Sakura flung herself across the space between them, arms wrapping tightly around the taller boy's waist, and burying her face in his shirt. She didn't stop to think- couldn't stop to think, the touch had snapped something and she needed this, needed a hug more than anything in the world and couldn't have stopped herself from clinging to him if her life depended on it.

It vaguely came to her that he had asked a question- but the only thing she could think to say, muffled by his shirt, was a tremulous "I'm sorry..."

Autor stumbled backwards when the girl flew at him, quickly throwing out his arms to keep his balance. He wasn't used to being touched by people--he always felt...trapped, somehow, when it happened. His father had never really been affectionate at all, certainly not physically. His mother might have been, but that was a long time ago. Really, it was an unusual occurance to be touched by someone at all, outside of when Doumeki would ruffle his hair.
But still...he didn't really mind it. If that's what she really needed...he gently (and perhaps awkwardly) put his arms around the girl--one looping around her shoulders, his other hand resting on the back of her head.

"Sorry?" he questioned, his voice soft. "Why are you sorry?"

She'd thrown him off balance anyways, she must have taken him by surprise. Not that she could blame him, she had surprised herself with the hug, she hadn't meant to touch anyone, cling to anyone, but here she was.

She was so very weak.

And she was sorry for so many things. For being so selfish as to be sad when he left, for having hoped it wouldn't happen, for being needy now that he was gone, for imposing herself on Autor, for needing to cling.

"I'm just...I shouldn't need...I shouldn't." It came out as a conglomeration of everything, less than illuminating, but she was stealing the warmth from the other boy, and taking solace from it.

"Why wouldn't you?" His arms around her tightened. "You...you really liked him, didn't you? Of course you're sad."

He felt so bad, seeing her this way. She always brought a smile to his face...always made him feel so at ease. He wanted her to be happy, too.

"Besides, I already told you I didn't mind."

She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't cry, she really, really, wouldn't cry. And when she closed her eyes she found they were so dry she had to open them again. "He...was the first person to hear me speak. And he came to visit me every day."

"It meant so much." Sakura loosened her grip on Autor's waist, fingers curling into fists against his back. She could take a half a step back, but left her head resting on him- she didn't have the strength to lift herself completely just yet.

"I'm...I'm glad I met you too, Autor."

When he felt her grip loosen, he responded in kind, keeping his arms around her to show his support but giving her a chance to let go if she wanted to. "I didn't know that," he murmured softly. "No wonder he meant so much to you..."

Her final comment made him blush, just a little. He liked being needed..."I'm glad, too. Very glad."

Sakura didn't know why she felt like talking about it now, of all times, now, that he was gone, now she felt alone again. "I told you I couldn't speak, back home..." She paused, and, snugging her arms around him once more before dropping them, stepped back, eyes looking faraway. "I can't describe how it felt when I said something and they heard me."

And now she could look up at him, her piano buddy, her friend, and now, her confidant. Her face was still downcast, but the warmth he'd given and talking had helped- she didn't feel like curling into a ball. The tears were still there, she could feel them lurking. But they would wait to be shed.

"Play with me?" There was still something desperate in her eyes, searching and seeking for one last comfort.

Autor smiled warmly at the girl, his expression lacking any sense of of his typical arrogance. "I'd love to."

He stepped over towards the piano, reaching out towards the keys and touching them with his thin fingers. The keys felt cool beneath his fingers. He took a seat on the bench--his back towards the keys so he could face her--and smiled again at her, doing his best to make his friend feel at ease, to make her feel happy if only for a moment. "What would you like to play?"

The brunette took a few steps forward and nodded at the music projected onto the piano- the piano itself was almost identical to the one that the Mizrahi family had owned in the Yuriev institute, and Sakura suspected Rubedo might have picked this one for that reason. It was a piece for 4 hands; Mozart sonata in F major (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cU_xhtxaCLg).

"I don't know if you've played it before or not...but it doesn't look all that tricky." Sakura moved to the piano, sitting on the very edge of the bench, fingers laid delicately on the keys- the coolness of them lost to the coolness of her fingers.

Autor turned around on the bench and glanced up at the music displayed. As Sakura spoke he nodded, reading over the notes. He lightly touched the keys corresponding to the notes as he read them. She was right, it seemed simple enough. "I'm familiar with it, although I've never played it. It looks like it'd be fun to try."

Sakura rubbed her eyes with the heel of one hand before stretching her fingers and soberly reaching for the first chord.

This would be good for her- she knew. Because she would have to focus on hitting the notes, focus on that instead of how desperately she wished she could be more selfless and let the redheaded boy leave her behind and go on with his life.

And so she plunged herself into the music, leaning forward slightly to give the cue to start, and playing out the first few chords.

They'd played together enough that he was able to easily recognize when she was beginning to play. He started when she did, silently counting out the tempo. After a measure or two he glanced over at her, trying to judge her expression. Was she okay? Should he say something, or keep playing?

Sakura was trying her best not to think of anything beyond the next keystroke, beyond the configuration of keys and fingers, and letting the notes resonate in her mind, purity of tone driving out other thoughts from her head.

She could feel the other boy sitting next to her- and it was all she needed for the moment. Just for him to sit there with her and help play something, create the song.

She'd always used music as an outlet, from the days when it was the only outlet she had.

Autor turned back to the keys, carefully playing the song. She seemed like she was doing okay...as well as he could expect.

...It was funny, how comfortable he was playing with her. She was the only one he ever really played with, now that Eve was gone. Even back home he didn't play duets much--there were a few times he had been assigned them in class, but his partners generally found him disagreeable. Perhaps he was too demanding of their skill. (Or, perhaps, they could tell he spent his time studying something other than the piece they were to perform.) Whatever it was, he'd grown to dislike playing with another person.

But Sakura was different, somehow. He never really felt nervous around her, or like he had to prove himself...it was fine to just play, and play the best he could. And he wanted to play the best he could.

It was odd, how much the City had changed him...

Sakura let the song unroll- it was a melodic, slow thing, and it began to mirror her thoughts after a time. It was easy to absorb the mood of pieces like this, and it was one of the reasons she seemed to prefer the calmer bits of classical music- the angry sounding pieces were just foreign to her.

The piece carried on in silence between the two pianists, the score following them dutifully on the board. Silence was habitual to her, and there were days when she had to remember that the people around her could hear more than the piano she played.

So when the piece ended after some minutes, the brunette merely sighed softly, letting her hands relax against the keys, as though loathe to let them leave the piano.

Autor paused for a moment when the song ended. It wasn't because he was hesitant to speak--it was more that he was simply enjoying the satisfaction of finishing the song with a good performance. He smiled softly, resting his hands down on the bench.

"That was good. Was that the first time you'd played it?"

Sakura drew her hands back along the keys, letting them drop to her lap, before turning, attempting a smile for the first time all evening, timid and barely there, but a smile nonetheless.

"Mm...I sort of looked it over, but that's it. It worked pretty well."

Autor's smile broadened when he saw the Sakura smile herself. That's a good sign, he thought to himself. Maybe she's feeling better?

"We should keep practicing it when we get together. I think we could end up being really good at it."

"Okay." Less desperate now, the brunette was content to be directed, be told what to do, and it was a pretty tune. She would enjoy learning it to perfection, getting the false notes and bad rhythm out of the playing.

She looked down, smile fading to something less forced and less visible, and turned slightly, placing her hand oh so lightly on the taller boy's shoulder. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said. Typically he would perhaps take the chance to point out how much the person he'd helped owed him, but with her he didn't feel a need. "I'm glad to be of help." For once.

He paused for a moment, thinking back to the empty feeling as he had entered the ship, and his echoing footsteps. "Are you...going to be alright here? With Rubedo gone, I mean." He hated to bring up the boy again as she was getting better, but he thought he should at least make sure she had a place to stay if needed.

Sakura drew her feet up away from the base of the piano, hands pulled back to her lap, eyes staring at her knees. "I...I don't know. It feels weird to just...know he's not here anymore..."

Leaving the Durandal would be another thing- another finality. She'd only ever lived with Rubedo. Before the Durandal showed up, with him in an apartment, and then later, here, he'd been just down the hall, so close. KOS-MOS had brought it up. Sakura wans't even sure she would have thought of it herself.

"If you needed a place to stay..." Autor began, pushing his glass up his nose out of habit. "You could come stay at the Opera. I'm sure no one would mind. But...I'd understand if you wanted to stay here, too."

Sakura turned to look at the other boy, slightly surprised by the offer. Live in the Opera? ...She was over there a lot anyhow, and a lot of her friends were there. ...It might not be so bad. But leaving the Durandal...

Sakura wasn't used to making decisions. That was something other people did for her, at least where big changes were concerned. Torn between just accepting and not knowing whether she should, the girl bit her bottom lip.

"That...That means a lot, Autor. I- Can I think about it for a little bit?"

Softer now, she added, "I'm not used to making big decisions."

He nodded. "Take all the time you need. And don't feel like you have to say yes, either--I won't take offense if you decide to stay here."

He leaned a bit closer when she said her last statement, narrowing his eyes just slightly in concentration. "Ah...really?" When he thought about it, it made sense...when he was her age, he didn't make many tough decisions, either. He certainly didn't do something like choosing where he would live. That waited until when he was fourteen...

"Mm."

Sakura clasped her hands together, keeping them still, quiet, silent- as silent as herself, letting a pause draw out.

Voice quiet and soft, almost reminiscent, she spoke again. "It never mattered before. Mom and Dad always chose things for me, because I couldn't..."

She paused, and brown hair fell in a curtain across her face as she bowed her head slightly.

"And Rubedo was here when I got here, and he did the same thing, so it still didn't matter. And now..." Now she had to make her own decisions, and it was overwhelming. She was thirteen now, wasn't she? Thirteen and a half? Shouldn't she be able to do these things?

Shouldn't she? But that didn't help- it was still overwhelming. It was absurd, the things she knew she couldn't do.

Autor listened to her carefully, a faint frown appearing on his face as she spoke. He fiddled with the a button on his jacket for a moment before speaking, his mood suddenly serious. He wasn't sure how to put this, or if he could even help but...

"I know how you feel...in a way. Although my situation was never quite like yours."

Sakura fell silent for a while- her case had been unusual enough in her own world. It had been strange to find people who could relate at all. She looked up at him curiously for a moment, before reassuming her contemplation of her knees.

"Mm..."

She wouldn't ask- Autor had never been terribly open about his past, and she had never wanted to push.

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Log; Ongoing

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