Un Ange de Musique – by BandGeek99

While Haruhi is at work, her husband Tamaki watches their daughter, Eponine, and introduces her to the world of music. Drabble. Implied TamaxHaru, future!fic.

I don't own a thing, so YOU don't get to sue me!


The Suoh household was typically either very loud and filled with rambunxious people, or else it was dead silent and empty. There were very few times when it was filled with a peaceful sort of tranquility, very few family moments.

So it was a wonder when, on a bright, sunny Sunday morning, the mansion was not filled with dissonant chords of chaos. Only the chirping of birds and chords of piano were heard around the estate.

Tamaki Suoh, aged 27, was the only adult home. He sat at the grand piano in the parlor and played away the morning, smiling at the music he had dug from the depths of his study, pieces he hadn't played since high school. His wife was out at work, in court today, actually, and he had been left in charge of watching their four-year-old daughter. It was a simple enough task; she wasn't even awake yet.

His long fingers scampered quickly across the keys and his foot moved up and down, his head nodding to an invisible metronome. His eyes flew across the music and his lips silently counted out the beat—One, two, three, two-and-two-and-three-and, three, two, three, four-e-and-a-two-e-and-a-three—making his whole being dance in a strange sort of ballet. As the piece ended, he couldn't contain a grin. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was, indeed, a musical genius.

Tamaki selected another piece from his seemingly ever-growing pile of music, a waltz by the legend Joe Hisaishi, and reset his mental metronome. It was only 120 beats per minute; a simple, easy tempo to play at.

His blue eyes focused on the music and he began the piece slowly. One-and two-and three-and, one-and two-and three-and, one-and two-and three-a four-e-and… As the music slowly crescendoed, he lost track of the rest of the world. All that existed for him were the notes, the piano, and the child they bore: the music itself.

At the key change he felt his pulse quicken, excitement rising in his blood as he built up to the final chord.

There was an instant after he finished playing that he felt as though he were a soul, dropping back into his body after experiencing heaven, and disappointment filled his heart. And then the clapping started.

Tamaki spun around on the bench and saw his daughter, fully dressed, standing in the doorway with a huge smile on her face and applauding him. "Eponine!"

"Papa!" the little girl said, grinning wider.

"Come here, darling," Tamaki said, holding out his arms.

Eponine ran to him, burying her face in his shoulder. "Daddy plays beautifully," she said in French. "More beautifully than the people on the recordings!"

Tamaki laughed. "Ah, Eponine, you flatter Daddy!" he replied, also in French. "But I really don't play as well as that. I haven't played in a while."

"I thought you were wonderful."

"Thank you, darling," he said, smiling kindly and scooting over on the bench. "Come, sit."

"Can I hear some more?" Eponine asked, looking up at her blonde father with wide eyes.

"Of course." Sometimes she was so much like Haruhi it was uncanny. Not only were they alike in looks, but Haruhi also loved hearing Hisaishi music. She claimed that it was healing music (whatever that was supposed to mean) and that it reminded her of her deceased mother. "What song?"

"Laputa!" she cried, climbing up beside him.

"Laputa it is," he replied, pulling out another piece of music from the stack and setting it in front of him. What is it with Fujioka women and music from Miyazaki films? he wondered silently.

As he played, Eponine's eyes widened in wonder as she took in the sight of his fingers gliding across the ivory and ebony keys, the glazed look that crossed his eyes as they flickered over the music. She listened carefully to the beautiful sound that her father was able to coax out of the nothing but wooden keys and strings and marveled at it; her father must be an angel, to create such a beautiful sound.

"Papa," she said when he finished. "Could you play some more?"

"What would you like to hear?"

"Anything," she said. "I just want to hear your music. It's beautiful."

Tamaki wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Thank you. And I'll keep playing, as long as you'd like me to."

She grinned. "Thank you."

"But in exchange, don't tell Momma we've been speaking in French," Tamaki said. "She really hates it when we do that."

"How come?"

"She's just jealous that we can speak in such a beautiful language so well, and that she actually has to work at it."

Eponine giggled. "All right."

"So. How do you feel about Mozart?"

"Yay, Mozart!"

Tamaki laughed and continued on with his playing. He didn't stop until it was nearly one o' clock in the afternoon and Haruhi returned home.

"Hello, everyone," she said, smiling widely at her family. "We won the case!"

"Congratulations!" Eponine cried, sliding off the bench and running to hug her mother.

"That's wonderful, Haruhi," Tamaki said, standing and walking to his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and squished their daughter, who had insisted on being picked up, between them. "I'm proud of you."

Haruhi smiled widely and laughed. "Thank you. I see you didn't burn down the house while I was gone, Senpai," she said, using her old nickname for him.

"Haruhi!" Tamaki gasped. "I'm hurt that you would think so poorly of me! Of course I didn't burn down the house!"

"Daddy played piano all day," Eponine said. "He plays really well. I want to be able to play well, like daddy does!"

Haruhi looked at Tamaki with great curiosity. "You played for her?"

"Well… She woke up and heard me playing… and she asked me to…"

The 26-year-old woman laughed. "That's fantastic! I read someplace that music can expand a child's learning capacity and that it can expand creativity and things like that."

"R-really?" Tamaki was stunned by this. Maybe that was why he acted so childish with such a big imagination.

"Yeah. Now get to the kitchen and start some coffee! I'm in dire need of caffeine."

"Yes, ma'am!" Tamaki gave a mock salute and ran off across the foyer and down the hall to the kitchen.

"What kinds of music did Daddy play for you, Ponine-chan?" Haruhi asked, carrying her daughter to the couch where they both would sit and read stories (typically fairy tales) together.

"He played some musique d'un piano!" Eponine sang, wrapping her arms around her mother's neck. "He looked like an angel when he played."

She smiled fondly towards the piano, thinking of all the times when she'd requested that he play for her. "He does look like an angel, doesn't he?"

Eponine nodded vehemently.

"How would his okaa-san say it…? He looks like… Un ange de musique," Haruhi said in a soft voice.

Tamaki Suoh was many things. An idiot, a friend, a businessman, a husband, and a father. But he really was an angel of the music.

Fin.