[ Zuko is visibly amazed. He'd figured Gokudera was talented, but seeing it for himself is different entirely. He's never seen this instrument in person, didn't know anything about that world's music beyond what he'd seen in movies, and it was so very different than the folk songs on lutes and zithers in his own world. Gokudera as one person at a piano could pack as much drama into one song as a Fire Nation orchestra, Zuko felt. Indeed, he's glad to be mixed up in this drama. To hear him roll off such a rendition of "Four Seasons," having never even heard it, is remarkable. But hearing him playing Beethoven is astounding. Whether he wrote it himself or memorized it, either is still impressive, for such a complex composition. It leaves him mildly agape, watching Gokudera's hands dance across the keys. But when he winces in pain, and has to shake it off to continue, Zuko's eyes find Gokudera's face and stay there.
There's so much that's changed, it's true, and he does look different... but he's still Gokudera. Something in his look, that familiar frown. Zuko's heart is swelling with all kinds of emotions, bleeding for his beloved friend's otherworldly plights. He'd never felt so much empathy for someone in his life. It wasn't pity. Gokudera was too strong a person to pity, too fierce a fighter even when he's just playing music to clear his mind. Zuko's content to just listen and watch and think, and leans against the wall beside the piano, eyes fixed to the master at work with a peculiar expression as his own heavy thoughts set in. ]
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There's so much that's changed, it's true, and he does look different... but he's still Gokudera. Something in his look, that familiar frown. Zuko's heart is swelling with all kinds of emotions, bleeding for his beloved friend's otherworldly plights. He'd never felt so much empathy for someone in his life. It wasn't pity. Gokudera was too strong a person to pity, too fierce a fighter even when he's just playing music to clear his mind. Zuko's content to just listen and watch and think, and leans against the wall beside the piano, eyes fixed to the master at work with a peculiar expression as his own heavy thoughts set in. ]