Reviews make for a happy author.
- - - - - -
A stirring from the window brought Maka back to her senses, and she lifted her head tiredly from where she was lying under the warm covers of her bed, checking the time on the large, red plastic clock above the door. 2:37 a.m.
Groaning, the blonde turned to look at the window. It was wide open, blowing in a cold draft that had already made serious damage with the papers on the desk near the small, oval shaped coffee table. They were now lying motionless on the ground, waiting to be picked up by the drained teen.
Lifting her head, she walked tiredly to the open window, reaching out with a pale hand to tug it shut.
It wouldn't budge.
Grabbing it with both hands, she shoved down hard onto the window, and it still wouldn't move. Maka allowed her hands drop to her knees as she inspected the white windowsill, glaring at it. She hated to wake the manager so late at night, but it would be unbearably cold in the morning if she didn't do anything. Besides that, she could catch a cold, and when she woke up this early, Maka was never able to go back to sleep, so she would be able to do nothing but sit down and freeze.
Sighing, and with great effort suppressing a scream of frustration, she slipped through the front door of her home without locking it behind her, and it shut with a barely audible click.
Maka lived in an apartment, the clean brick building stretching stories upon stories high, and housing at least a hundred of the luckiest Shibusen students, since it was mostly paid for by the school. The spaces were beautifully decorated, and the only reason Maka had been able to take one was because her father was Shinigami's current Death Scythe. She didn't know a lot of people in the building, but she never really hung around there much anyway.
Her quiet footsteps were unheard by any of the other people, and loneliness bit at her toes, making her chew on her bottom lip anxiously. She hadn't been here too long, it was her first two weeks at the school, so she hadn't made any friends yet. Mostly, the blonde had no choice wander over to a book store and grab a hot chocolate, curling up for a few hours in a café by herself.
It had been silent for most of the walk towards the maintenance worker's place, but something was off. The air was disturbed, somehow, somewhere… a change was occurring…
And then she heard it. The nearly undetectable sound had immediately caught her. Soft, dulcet notes drifted into her mind, temporarily blinding her, and she would have tripped and fell on her face if the music hadn't stopped her in her tracks. Biting her tongue, she spun around, frowning, and the music cut off abruptly.
The song had made her heart ache. It had been solely piano, but she was sure that each sound spoken to her soul. It hadn't had any lyrics, but she could relate to it. Was that possible?
One thing was for sure, she hadn't wanted it to stop.
It had been deep, flowing and soothing but at the same time making you want to tremble and look over your shoulder. The dark tune was a twisted version of a classical piece, jazzed up by the change of tone in some places. She had never heard it before, or even anything remotely similar in any way. Crescendos had built up in all the right places, keeping her on her toes, but silence was reigning and she found that she didn't like it. Why had it stopped? Who could have possibly been responsible for such a piece?
It deserved its own genre at that point.
Reaching out with one hand, she murmured softly,
"Don't stop. Play for me."
And as soon as the last words were out of her mouth, the music started up again as if it had never halted, intensifying and pulling her heart three inches closer to her ribcage. She stood perfectly still, just listening to it, and eventually sat down in the cold air, her breath perfectly visible as she closed her eyes to better envision it.
It was louder than the soft soprano lullaby she had heard when she first entered the long hallway, much more consistent and faster than the other part, but without pausing, it felt like it was just verse number two. Pain, loneliness, fear, anger all drifted into the music as it got faster and louder before slowing and becoming quieter, the keys high and stunning. It hurt her, and then immediately healed her, before tearing her open again. And she didn't ever want it to stop.
Soon, her eyes drifted closed, and she drowsily glanced down at large clock hanging at the end of the hallway. It was 3:51 a.m., assuming the thing was even correct. The song had been going for almost an hour and a half now, but the time had seemed to float by. Nodding off, she slowly let herself fall asleep, and even in her dreams, which were of grandeur and ballroom dancing, it didn't stop. The song was her blanket. She wasn't even cold.
A few hours passed, and when she woke up, the beautiful melody was no longer playing. She was sure she felt the warmth of a tear fall halfway down her cheek, but not for any reason except that she couldn't listen further. And then her eyes widened as she realized it.
She had fallen asleep.
Ever since she could remember, she would occasionally wake up early in the morning, but had never once been able to fall back asleep, even with sleeping medication. Not once. Yet she had drifted effortlessly into that abyss by mere song; what a drug-induced sleep couldn't do, that song could.
Finally opening her light green eyes completely, she realized that she wasn't only in her pajamas; a large black coat was lying over her, making sure to even cover her toes, which were bare since she had only bothered to slip into flip-flops before running over to the manager's place. She hadn't expected to have a nap. A clairvoyant couldn't have predicted that song.
Taking a closer look, she noticed the initials stitched in elegant cursive silver thread directly over the heart.
Clenching her teeth, her hands clutched the expensive black fabric hard. It didn't matter if it killed her; she would find out who had played that song.
- - - - - -
A/N: Review? As any veterans of this story might have realized, I've revamped this chapter, correcting mistakes, and all that jazz. Piano was started because I was sick of one-shots, so please enjoy :3
Disclaimer: I tried to buy it on eBay, but I was outbid at the very last second. Damn that Shaw high speed internet! And he was right beside me, too!