(D5 LE) Nightingales (Closed)

[Asahina Sanaharu]

Returning from his walk to the ship, the traces of both sake and the sea accompanied him still. His casual kimono was still marked by paint, so he took the one he was to use tomorrow. Even then, the smell lingered on the bedroom still.

Setting his things organized aside as he didn't have the time to when Masao visited, he cleared his side table and got another seat for it.

Then he waited. At first he simply waited, then... He was one quick to change his face, but not his feelings. It was at first shame, then spleen, then rage. To end pacifically at anguish.

Seeking to calm himself, he took a sheet of paper and made an origami. It did not work, so he resorted to the usual... And the soft notes of a Biwa could be heard in the corridors.

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

Soon, there is a scratch at the door.

[Asahina Sanaharu]

He lets the biwa rest aside, shakes his head slightly to try to make the bad feelings go out and opens the shoji.

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

Yuuwaku looks up at him when he does.

"May I come in?" she asks, sweetly.

More quietly, almost whispering, she adds "What troubles you?"

[Asahina Sanaharu]

"You may." He steps aside with a deep bow, in formality, closing the shoji after her. "Today we were the most insulted again, although this one came from misunderstanding."

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

Yuuwaku returns the bow and enters, and, after the door is closed, she turns to him and says "Tell me, Sana-kun. Was it that...person again?"

Her tone makes clear that another word entirely was intended.

[Asahina Sanaharu]

"I wish it was, so I would have confronted her on it. Alas, it was not. And was someone I believe that my lord would anger himself if I drew her ire, so I apologized and moved on."
He moves to the table finally. "Please take a seat."

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

"Probably for the best, then, Sana-kun," Yuuwaku replies as she takes the indicated seat.

"I heard you playing; I've always liked it, but the melody was mournful. Was it about that?"

[Asahina Sanaharu]

He nods. "May Asahina-shiryo pardon me for my ire. The melody... Please call it not art, for indeed it was. Art deserves no association with the products of such states of mind."

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

"Catharsis is a valid purpose, you know, getting it out of you to get it behind you."

[Asahina Sanaharu]

He nods slightly. "Music always helped me. But let's not allow the bitterness of this ruin the joy of this evening."

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

"The bitter makes us appreciate the sweet," she says, opening her hands, palms up, atop the table.

"And you are certainly sweet."

[Asahina Sanaharu]

He smiles slightly, putting his hands under hers, palms up as well. "A fruit can not be compared in sweetness to honey."

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

"How much better the pairing than either alone," Yuuwaku replies, clasping Sanaharu's hands as best as the size difference allows. Then, with a wry grin, she adds "Which fruit do you think me, then, that you would pluck?"

[Asahina Sanaharu]

"Plum, of course. The tree may beautiful, it may indicate the start of joy, the fragrance may be both strong and sweet, but the reason for my choice is that they are, simply, my favourite."

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

"I'll have to keep that in mind, honey," Yuuwaku responds. "A bit better, now?"

[Asahina Sanaharu]

His face opens a smile in light surprise. "I am, thanks to your company."

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

Yuuwaku nods.

"Then I am glad to have come."

Her thumbs stroke his palms.

"You do have such nice hands, you know."

[Asahina Sanaharu]

They contract a little at her comment. He never thought they would be.
"Only if they were as nice as yours."

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

"Nonsense," she says. "I never had the knack for music. But you," and here she lets go with one hand, still holding the other, her fingers finding his and tracing out the fingertips, "show clearly your diligence and the effect of that. And that will last longer.

"Besides," she continues, "we had spoken earlier about your regard for yourself. Did you think I merely flattered to say that you merit appreciation?" She shakes her head, adding, "No. And I am not asking you to be arrogant, nor yet to be modest. Look frankly upon yourself and see what is good about you--and if you have trouble seeing such, why, my eyes work well, and I am happy to say it to you here."

[Asahina Sanaharu]

He lets her go and weave her path through her gestures. She chose right the hand that went up on the biwa instead of holding the plectrum, didn't she? The one with harsh, flat fingertips — although both had them, being one who played a biwa with a thicker caliber by his own request. Even silk could not save a hand from this. He lowers his head on her kind words.

"I would... I would never guess you did not speak your heart, Yuu-chan. What you asked of me... this is a good subject for meditation tomorrow."

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

"Why is it," Yuuwaku asks, "that you are so reluctant to see yourself, Sana-kun?"

A simple question, asked as she continues to stroke his hand.

[Asahina Sanaharu]

"I believe it started with the being too tall thing. I believe then it just... spread over to everything else. I would not call this perception entirely ill, as it keeps me humble."

[Kakita Yuuwaku]

"Humility is good," Yuuwaku notes, "but self-disparagement is not. And, again, what you have shown me of you is not unpleasantly made. Height and all.

"And I know that looks are not an orator's most important feature, or many artists'," she continues, "but doubt in one area becomes doubt in others all too easily. And that will hinder you."

She shakes her head. "This should not be."

[Asahina Sanaharu]

Well, so, she didn't find that weird and she was telling the truth about that. Maybe he was the only one who thought so... No, he was not. Being tall should not be so bad unless... That's too much to think about right now.
It calls out everyone's attention, though. It's impossible not to notice.
Did it matter if it was not weird?
But it was weird.
Unless it was not?
He definitively needed that meditation.

He took the time to discuss it with himself before replying. Well, she was not wrong. Doubt had already spread everywhere.

"Doubt is an ill indeed."