Disclaimer: I don't own Dogs: Bullets & Carnage, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Shirow Miwa. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.
Nothing Is Sound
A/N: Alternate events in which Nill was Above at Buon Viaggio during the dog soldiers' explosion; for a friend who gave the prompt "an instrument is utilized when no voice is capable."
It almost brought a tear to his eye, the thought of the beautiful symphony that played beneath his feet in that hall. A sound that would live in the years that followed, likely documented in mind and upon paper, a lasting tribute to his own unnamed genius.
The waitress who approached, whose name he believed was Kiri, smiled, a gesture which he returned, though not without a sincere attempt to hide his twisted glee. It would be horridly rude to laugh at the knowledge that, unknown to her, her beloved Mihai was in the Below, charred and buried beneath the rubble of that beautiful concert hall.
Such a triumph called for a bit of celebration.
A few moments he waited, and, as requested, she brought back a lone glass of red wine before ensuring he was comfortable before returning to her usual rounds.
Lifting the glass, he felt it. That strange sixth sense that came about by being watched. Turning to look over his shoulder, there was a girl, sitting alone at the polished bar.
With that same feigned smile, he approached her, towing the glass along in his hand. Could the blood of those fools look quite so beautiful as deep red wine? He hoped so.
"And what is your name?" The fox grinned.
She bowed her head and didn't answer. Just lifted a hand to touch his sleeve, as if recognizing his attire. Eyes widened as the sound of a piano filled the restaurant, the melody seeming to bring her to life a bit more.
"Do you like music?"
The girl nodded, mouth still pressed into a thin line on her face.
Richter sat down beside her, moving his wrist as though the glass were a baton, watching the wine move pleasurably back and forth. "Do you know what sound is, my dear?"
She just looked at him, head tilted in a manner that reflected curiosity.
"To simplify, sound is a sensation perceived by the ear caused by the vibration of air or another medium. Astounding that something so small as a vibration can allow us to hear the world with such clarity." A sigh as he lifted her chin, noting the fine feathers of the wings on her back. "If only I could hear your voice. I imagine it would be a beautiful sound. Like a choir of angels."
The girl smiled then, a soft blush coming about on her cheeks.
From the inside of his jacket, he then took hold of some folded papers, pressing them into her soft hands.
"It's Vivaldi," he told her as she unfolded it. "A part of The Four Seasons. L'autunno, or autumn." Another smile. "It's violin, but I imagine you'll enjoy it all the same."
Her wide eyes were fixated on him, a genuine smile coming to beam on her face. She nodded her thanks, holding the pages close to her heart. Even mute, she could appreciate the true beauty and potential of sound.
The untouched wine glass was placed on the bar with a few loose bills as he bid the girl a fond farewell before heading out into the dark.
What a pretty girl she was, Richter thought as he walked through the dark streets. It was just a shame an angel like her had had her voice taken from her. He grinned, a bit of a skip in his step as he thought on it. With her gentle features and absolute purity, she would have been perfect.
What beauty her screams would have given to his symphony Below.