I've met a Yamamoto who did not feel that way... Didn't return my feelings at all.
[He glares. Gokudera has been with so many people that it's easy to feel like he's never been good enough, and he was happy on that radioactive planet! It was peaceful! There was no mafia, no caste system, no authorities. Just... a quiet place for him and Takeshi to share.]
And I don't know if we're destined to be together. This one and me, anyways. He's a perfect stranger by comparison. [Even if he is the same person, this Yamamoto has no idea what he's been through.]
I mean— for now, right? Maybe you will grow closer here, too...
[ He's trying to be positive about this, optimistic, in the face of everything else Gokudera has told him. This is maybe the hardest and easiest point of all of it, it sounds like. ]
[Better the uncertainty of it all rather than rejection. Gokudera's mood has turned awful. He hadn't been dwelling on this earlier, had been more overwhelmed about how he's supposed to fit in amongst everyone in Camelot without a single person that's gone through the worlds he has.
There isn't a soul he thinks he can relate to. Gokudera pulls out a fresh cigarette and spends a moment fumbling with his lighter. His left hand has gone stiff, has seen too much damage, and he's too frustrated to deal with it. If Zuko doesn't help him by offering him a light via one of his fidget-lighters, Gokudera is going to hurl his nice looking zippo right into the street.]
[ Zuko's wearing a contemplative, empathetic frown, eyes glancing up to Gokudera's face after a moment. And indeed, when he sees he's struggling with his lighter, Zuko grabs one of his own from his pocket, reaching across the table with his hand cupped round the flame to protect it from the wind for the bomber to light up, all gentlemanly-like. ]
I dunno, Gokudera. I mean, don't tell him now — there's too much on your mind, man... But someday you should be honest about it. Hiding it will hurt, too.
[Gokudera inhales to ignite his cigarette, and sets the lighter he’d been struggling with down. His hand is mildly disfigured compared to his right, the digits resting bowed slightly. He stares down at it, forcing the digits to lay flat as he gives a soft exhale and smoke curls out of his nose and between his teeth. His eyes shut and he tries to force himself to calm down.
Zuko is right. There is too much on his mind. Without his Rain flames, he doesn’t know how to calm himself, can’t stop that restless guilt knotting itself in his stomach.]
You’re right. [He’s not too proud to admit that.]
Maybe I’ll find my own place... see about getting myself settled so I don’t disrupt him or the Tenth.
[ He raises his eyebrows, not meaning to scold, but... meaning to speak plainly. He cares about his friend's wellbeing, and knows he's not the only one. ]
Today's probably not the best day to make big decisions.
[Gokudera doesn’t take Zuko’s words as a scolding but advice. He pouts but nods, then focuses on his cigarette and takes a sip from his cappuccino. Colder than he likes, but it was ordered for him and he won’t be rude.]
Sorry to get you mixed up in all my drama...
[Even if they are friends, he doesn’t want to inconvenience him.]
[He feels guilty, and not that Zuko is his friend, but that he wants to help him. Gokudera shouldn’t need help. He should be able to handle this on his own.]
I’m not arguing whether you’re my friend, Zuko. Do you have any ideas for something I could do to take my mind off it?
Nah, I know — I'm telling you, being friends means being mixed up in each other's drama. Part of the deal.
[ He gives a warm smirk and shrugs, leaning back in his seat, taking Gokudera's question seriously but also as an avenue to lighten the mood slightly. Just slightly. ]
When I was under stress in that other world, I started making miniature model warships. That helped me keep my mind off shit back then. Kept my hands busy, something I could do alone, clearcut goal, easy sense of satisfaction but still challenging enough to be frustrating... I'd never done anything like that before back home, but I think it helped. Pick up a new hobby.
[He’s still going to feel guilty for dumping all of his emotional baggage right there in front of Zuko. Gokudera pouts, unhappy about sharing and regretting that he’s done so.
Listening to him, his brow furrows but then he thinks about what helped him when he arrived on Anchor, before he met Takeshi. He blinks realization. Weapon maintenance is a hobby, but there’s one he doesn’t cater to enough.]
I remember talking to Crowley when I was here last time. There’s a place here with a piano... another cafe? Maybe a bar. Want to go looking for it?
[Then he can have a drink and play. It’ll probably be pretty bad, since his hand makes things a bit difficult, but at least the alcohol will help soothe his sorrows and make him move with a bit more fluidity.]
Well yeah. I'm feeling like shit and it'll help me distract myself... I had one back in Anchor... so I could play all the time.
[Takeshi got it for him. Oh god, why is everything reminding him of his fiancée? Gokudera mutters softly under his breath that 'Takeshi got it for me,' and heaves another one of surely countless sighs.
He sits and stares at Zuko, waiting for him to get up first before he does so an follows. Even though they're both exploring and neither is sure where the piano is, the bomber will stay a foot or so behind his friend out of pure habit alone. ]
Any song requests in mind? [He sounds curious and legitimately amused.]
[ Zuko waits for Gokudera to get up first for half a moment, considering he's the one who suggested going, and gives him a funny look when he stands first. He'd paid already for their drinks, so he has no qualms leaving them unfinished. He does notice, though, how Gokudera keeps trying to trail behind him and let Zuko lead the way even though he has no idea where they're going. Even if they have a slow go of it, neither wanting to be in front, they'll manage. ]
I don't really know any songs from your world. But my world's songs are all fairly simple and short — maybe I can show you a couple when we find your piano.
[It’s a little awkward, and the funny look makes Gokudera frown. He doesn’t understand what may be so odd... and is just operating off habit.]
You can just hum a tune, and I’ll find the keys for it on the piano and improvise.
[Gokudera is sticking to cafes and finally walks into a tavern, the lighting warm and slightly dim, but there is a piano standing off to the side. No one is at it, and the place doesn’t seem terribly crowded. There are a few patrons who seem to be regulars, casually drinking and chatting amongst themselves at the bar.
The bomber looks over the barkeeper, a large statured man with next to no hair on his head, but a thick dark beard. Gokudera feels oddly small, but is bold in his approach.]
Do you have anyone for that piano?
[The barkeep blinks and looks over at the instrument.]
They’re off today. Usually they don’t play ‘til the evening, anyway.
Thanks. [Gokudera turns and walks over to it, running a hand over dust and giving a gentle scoff as he realizes that there probably is no one who’s been keeping up with it. He grumbles under his breath and pulls out the piano bench.]
Hang on... I’m gonna make sure it’s in good condition.
[And he’s lifting the hood, propping it up and leaning in to press at the wires, checking the hammers. He moves over to the bench and starts with the highest key, working low and testing out each note.]
[ Zuko's eyes widen at the sight. He knew it was a big instrument, but he's never actually seen one in person, even an upright piano like this one. It makes his tsungi horn seem small. He follows closely by Gokudera's side, eyes wide, hands shoved in both his pockets, careful not to touch the piano frame while the other sits down to test out its tune. ]
Wow...
[ He hasn't even done anything yet, Zuko, what "wow?" ]
[Gokudera looks over at the other curiously and then finishes testing the keys. He’s happy it’s tuned, and then he’s practicing his scales fluidly, sitting straight, posture held at ease. Then, he’s stopping and staring at the keys, wondering what to play.]
Want to hum something and I’ll play it back, then improvise?
[ Zuko's already taken just by hearing the scales. Seeing a video on Gokudera's phone and seeing Gokudera sitting at the piano himself have two very different effects. And for as somber as this meeting initially is, he feels strangely giddy to be here now. He pauses, considering, then a little smile comes to his lips as a thought comes to his mind. ]
Oh— I know a song that's relevant right now. And it's easy. It goes like—
[ He hums a simple tune, slow and simple as promised, and nods along when Gokudera plays it back. He lets the pianist get his bearings for a second, but chimes in with lyrics after the beat comes round again. For one of the first times in ages and ages, Zuko's not shy at singing, makes a genuine effort, even rather relaxed. He can sing, a little known fact, although his speaking voice is usually a bit hoarse, and indeed has a natural gift for music that his uncle always tries tooth and nail to encourage despite Zuko's many protests. He'd stopped placing much value in music as a whole after his banishment, seeing no way how music nights aboard his ship and singing lighthearted sea shanties with his crew could better his chances of redemption. The Avatar couldn't care less if Zuko could carry a tune, after all. But the fact remains that the prince does have a good sense of musicality even without a tsungi horn in his hands; so even if it presented no usefulness to Zuko back then, Iroh'd still taught him some latent musical appreciation at some point, like with so many of Iroh's wisdoms, the man being a gardener of ideas, and sometimes values planted ages ago take time to blossom. It's a short bit, but one that comes from his heart now that there is some "usefulness" to the song, however unexpectedly. ]
"Winter, spring, summer and fall~ Winter, spring, summer and fall~ Four seasons — fo-o-our loves~ Four seasons fooo~or love."
[Gokudera listens, repeats, hums along, then starts to play. When Zuko sings along, he’s gets more comfortable and starts to add on to the song. He follows and starts to sing along, his voice softer, but not strong. The bomber is building confidence, taking it easier, and doesn’t seem to want to settle, keeps dancing the fingers of his right hand along the higher notes until it becomes something of a mashup and eventually focuses on another song entirely.
He’s focused, watching for a while as he mashes the two songs together, but once he’s playing Beethoven, his eyes shut and he loses all realization of everything around him. Five minutes in, his left hand strikes keys it shouldn’t, and he growls audibly while repeating, skipping like a human broken record until his fingers curl and do what he wants. That part out of the way, tension bleeds back out and he slows, nodding as if he’s hearing each note before his fingers stroke and tap the keys.]
[ 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. ]
[The pace varies more than it should, slowing slightly where he may be uncertain, and he knows it sounds good. This piano may have dust and some neglect, but it's performing well. He's satisfied with the music that jumps at his fingertips until his left hand decides to do its usual cramping. Regardless, he pushes through it. His rendition of "Four Seasons" repeats in Bass chords and ties it all off at the end.
This song is only easy for him because it has so much repetition, and he follows it easily, walking his fingers up and down the keys with practiced familiarity. But when he hits notes that are similar between the songs, he can throw that bass back in. He remembers his first owner pointing out to him that he didn't tend to gravitate to Italian songs, despite that being where he was from. Can't beat a classic like Beethoven. No matter the culture, the music speaks to everyone.
And for a moment, he's back in the luxurious floor in the Golden City, the older man who purchased him setting roses down right where the sheet music would be. Gokudera blinks pain and the song changes again to something reminiscent of Debussy's "Claire de lune". Him playing a piano in a bar... and then him sitting at an oceanside picnic with someone he couldn't love, and then he's back at the piano and remembering that everyone leaves him, that he's left a lot of them too. He sighs, accepting that he'll have to focus on enjoying every moment he has while he's here.
He's a free man, now, after all. Takeshi would want him to be happy. He'll wait for him. The song ends, the last note drifting off as he slides his finger off, then rubs his left hand.]
[ Zuko's eyes are full of emotion he can't precisely name, brows knitted, face awash with amazement and affection... and something like grief. He can't sense what Gokudera's remembering, but he can definitely sense that he's remembering something, and that it can come out in the music is astounding to the firebender. The prince has a gift for music that's so far squandered on someone who doesn't understand its power, power for expression, power for healing, power for communication... The things Zuko, indeed, struggles with, not so unlike his good friend here, who's struggling far more in this bewildering moment in his life— lives? Zuko can't imagine himself in Gokudera's place, as much as he's trying. It's all so much. Having been spirited away, separated from his family, segregated from his family, enslaved, abused, owned, having been left, having been loved, having been left yet more, only to be spirited away again... having been engaged...? Only to be spirited away again, in fact?! It's hard enough to imagine these alone, without even throwing on the most troublesome bit: having died and been resurrected. That's still not sitting right with Zuko. Debussy sounds more haunting than it typically might with these thoughts in mind. The silence that follows it, though, is far more chilling. Gokudera rounded it all off so well, so neatly, that Zuko expected the silence, knew the song was ending, and yet still its absence felt like it knocked the air from his chest, jarring, surreal, sudden despite plenty of warning. Zuko waits a pronounced moment to say anything, speechless in truth, but instead of showering the pianist with the praise he deserves, instead the prince asks an invasive and pointed question he feels comes off as neutral and unimposing, straightforward, merely concerned, rather than schmaltzy and doting, knowing how humble the other is. But inwardly, he gets a roaring round of applause. That's just... not what comes out of his mouth, tone sharper than he hears himself. ]
[The silence feels odd, haunting, and Gokudera would cry, but he feels much too tired to do so. Lonely and not alone all at once. Not a person on this world who understands. They can sympathize, of course. He knows he’s not the only one who has been on other worlds. But no one has mentioned to him remembering any place called Anchor or Amoi. He feels so uniquely alien, and looks up at Zuko. His own expression turns slightly timid and apologetic. The bomber looks over the keys and motions for Zuko to come closer. Gokudera can talk and play at the same time, so long as the song isn’t too complex.]
I was kidnapped by the black market in Amoi, and when I tried to fight back, they crushed my hand. I recovered, and it took a while, but it’s not been the same since.
[He can still play piano, but it’s more struggle than it used to be.]
Could have gotten a prosthetic...
[But then, what use would he be?]
But then my weapon system wouldn’t work. Not that it matters in a place like this.
[And this hand has Takeshi’s engagement ring on it, his initials. Gokudera reflects on the magic he has in this world. He remembers he was good at making barriers, but that he had a secondary magic. He thinks it may have been elemental, but also doubts that, wonders if it’s just hopeful thinking since the Tenth also has elemental magic.
He keeps his attention focused on his scarred hand and then flutters his fingers, feeling wind come off them. Then, he holds out his index fingers and spins it. Air spins from there and wraps up his arm, stopping at his bicep and then cutting off when he stops the spinning of his finger.]
I don’t want to keep you, Zuko, but would you mind training with me?
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[He glares. Gokudera has been with so many people that it's easy to feel like he's never been good enough, and he was happy on that radioactive planet! It was peaceful! There was no mafia, no caste system, no authorities. Just... a quiet place for him and Takeshi to share.]
And I don't know if we're destined to be together. This one and me, anyways. He's a perfect stranger by comparison. [Even if he is the same person, this Yamamoto has no idea what he's been through.]
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[ He's trying to be positive about this, optimistic, in the face of everything else Gokudera has told him. This is maybe the hardest and easiest point of all of it, it sounds like. ]
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[Better the uncertainty of it all rather than rejection. Gokudera's mood has turned awful. He hadn't been dwelling on this earlier, had been more overwhelmed about how he's supposed to fit in amongst everyone in Camelot without a single person that's gone through the worlds he has.
There isn't a soul he thinks he can relate to. Gokudera pulls out a fresh cigarette and spends a moment fumbling with his lighter. His left hand has gone stiff, has seen too much damage, and he's too frustrated to deal with it. If Zuko doesn't help him by offering him a light via one of his fidget-lighters, Gokudera is going to hurl his nice looking zippo right into the street.]
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I dunno, Gokudera. I mean, don't tell him now — there's too much on your mind, man... But someday you should be honest about it. Hiding it will hurt, too.
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Zuko is right. There is too much on his mind. Without his Rain flames, he doesn’t know how to calm himself, can’t stop that restless guilt knotting itself in his stomach.]
You’re right. [He’s not too proud to admit that.]
Maybe I’ll find my own place... see about getting myself settled so I don’t disrupt him or the Tenth.
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[ He leans back, pocketing the lighter again eyes drifting to Gokudera's injured hand with furrowed brows, but without comment. ]
Just don't assume they don't want you around anymore. They're still your friends.
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[He feels called out. He’s spent so long isolated from his friends and family, being a mongrel... being less.]
Right but I think I might be better off alone...
[Gokudera voices it like a question, just really uncertain of how much he’s valued when his self-worth has never been very high.]
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[ He raises his eyebrows, not meaning to scold, but... meaning to speak plainly. He cares about his friend's wellbeing, and knows he's not the only one. ]
Today's probably not the best day to make big decisions.
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Sorry to get you mixed up in all my drama...
[Even if they are friends, he doesn’t want to inconvenience him.]
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[ Matter-of-fact, no room for contention. ]
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I’m not arguing whether you’re my friend, Zuko. Do you have any ideas for something I could do to take my mind off it?
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[ He gives a warm smirk and shrugs, leaning back in his seat, taking Gokudera's question seriously but also as an avenue to lighten the mood slightly. Just slightly. ]
When I was under stress in that other world, I started making miniature model warships. That helped me keep my mind off shit back then. Kept my hands busy, something I could do alone, clearcut goal, easy sense of satisfaction but still challenging enough to be frustrating... I'd never done anything like that before back home, but I think it helped. Pick up a new hobby.
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Listening to him, his brow furrows but then he thinks about what helped him when he arrived on Anchor, before he met Takeshi. He blinks realization. Weapon maintenance is a hobby, but there’s one he doesn’t cater to enough.]
I remember talking to Crowley when I was here last time. There’s a place here with a piano... another cafe? Maybe a bar. Want to go looking for it?
[Then he can have a drink and play. It’ll probably be pretty bad, since his hand makes things a bit difficult, but at least the alcohol will help soothe his sorrows and make him move with a bit more fluidity.]
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Right now? You wanna play piano? Yeah, I'd help you find it!
[ He shouldn't feel excited, should he? But he does. Keeping it to himself, though. ]
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[Takeshi got it for him. Oh god, why is everything reminding him of his fiancée? Gokudera mutters softly under his breath that 'Takeshi got it for me,' and heaves another one of surely countless sighs.
He sits and stares at Zuko, waiting for him to get up first before he does so an follows. Even though they're both exploring and neither is sure where the piano is, the bomber will stay a foot or so behind his friend out of pure habit alone. ]
Any song requests in mind? [He sounds curious and legitimately amused.]
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I don't really know any songs from your world. But my world's songs are all fairly simple and short — maybe I can show you a couple when we find your piano.
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You can just hum a tune, and I’ll find the keys for it on the piano and improvise.
[Gokudera is sticking to cafes and finally walks into a tavern, the lighting warm and slightly dim, but there is a piano standing off to the side. No one is at it, and the place doesn’t seem terribly crowded. There are a few patrons who seem to be regulars, casually drinking and chatting amongst themselves at the bar.
The bomber looks over the barkeeper, a large statured man with next to no hair on his head, but a thick dark beard. Gokudera feels oddly small, but is bold in his approach.]
Do you have anyone for that piano?
[The barkeep blinks and looks over at the instrument.]
They’re off today. Usually they don’t play ‘til the evening, anyway.
Thanks. [Gokudera turns and walks over to it, running a hand over dust and giving a gentle scoff as he realizes that there probably is no one who’s been keeping up with it. He grumbles under his breath and pulls out the piano bench.]
Hang on... I’m gonna make sure it’s in good condition.
[And he’s lifting the hood, propping it up and leaning in to press at the wires, checking the hammers. He moves over to the bench and starts with the highest key, working low and testing out each note.]
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Wow...
[ He hasn't even done anything yet, Zuko, what "wow?" ]
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Want to hum something and I’ll play it back, then improvise?
[He meant it.]
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[ Zuko's already taken just by hearing the scales. Seeing a video on Gokudera's phone and seeing Gokudera sitting at the piano himself have two very different effects. And for as somber as this meeting initially is, he feels strangely giddy to be here now. He pauses, considering, then a little smile comes to his lips as a thought comes to his mind. ]
Oh— I know a song that's relevant right now. And it's easy. It goes like—
[ He hums a simple tune, slow and simple as promised, and nods along when Gokudera plays it back. He lets the pianist get his bearings for a second, but chimes in with lyrics after the beat comes round again. For one of the first times in ages and ages, Zuko's not shy at singing, makes a genuine effort, even rather relaxed. He can sing, a little known fact, although his speaking voice is usually a bit hoarse, and indeed has a natural gift for music that his uncle always tries tooth and nail to encourage despite Zuko's many protests. He'd stopped placing much value in music as a whole after his banishment, seeing no way how music nights aboard his ship and singing lighthearted sea shanties with his crew could better his chances of redemption. The Avatar couldn't care less if Zuko could carry a tune, after all. But the fact remains that the prince does have a good sense of musicality even without a tsungi horn in his hands; so even if it presented no usefulness to Zuko back then, Iroh'd still taught him some latent musical appreciation at some point, like with so many of Iroh's wisdoms, the man being a gardener of ideas, and sometimes values planted ages ago take time to blossom. It's a short bit, but one that comes from his heart now that there is some "usefulness" to the song, however unexpectedly. ]
"Winter, spring, summer and fall~
Winter, spring, summer and fall~
Four seasons — fo-o-our loves~
Four seasons fooo~or love."
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He’s focused, watching for a while as he mashes the two songs together, but once he’s playing Beethoven, his eyes shut and he loses all realization of everything around him. Five minutes in, his left hand strikes keys it shouldn’t, and he growls audibly while repeating, skipping like a human broken record until his fingers curl and do what he wants. That part out of the way, tension bleeds back out and he slows, nodding as if he’s hearing each note before his fingers stroke and tap the keys.]
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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. ]
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This song is only easy for him because it has so much repetition, and he follows it easily, walking his fingers up and down the keys with practiced familiarity. But when he hits notes that are similar between the songs, he can throw that bass back in. He remembers his first owner pointing out to him that he didn't tend to gravitate to Italian songs, despite that being where he was from. Can't beat a classic like Beethoven. No matter the culture, the music speaks to everyone.
And for a moment, he's back in the luxurious floor in the Golden City, the older man who purchased him setting roses down right where the sheet music would be. Gokudera blinks pain and the song changes again to something reminiscent of Debussy's "Claire de lune". Him playing a piano in a bar... and then him sitting at an oceanside picnic with someone he couldn't love, and then he's back at the piano and remembering that everyone leaves him, that he's left a lot of them too. He sighs, accepting that he'll have to focus on enjoying every moment he has while he's here.
He's a free man, now, after all. Takeshi would want him to be happy. He'll wait for him. The song ends, the last note drifting off as he slides his finger off, then rubs his left hand.]
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...What's wrong with your hand?
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I was kidnapped by the black market in Amoi, and when I tried to fight back, they crushed my hand. I recovered, and it took a while, but it’s not been the same since.
[He can still play piano, but it’s more struggle than it used to be.]
Could have gotten a prosthetic...
[But then, what use would he be?]
But then my weapon system wouldn’t work. Not that it matters in a place like this.
[And this hand has Takeshi’s engagement ring on it, his initials. Gokudera reflects on the magic he has in this world. He remembers he was good at making barriers, but that he had a secondary magic. He thinks it may have been elemental, but also doubts that, wonders if it’s just hopeful thinking since the Tenth also has elemental magic.
He keeps his attention focused on his scarred hand and then flutters his fingers, feeling wind come off them. Then, he holds out his index fingers and spins it. Air spins from there and wraps up his arm, stopping at his bicep and then cutting off when he stops the spinning of his finger.]
I don’t want to keep you, Zuko, but would you mind training with me?
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1/2; i'm CRYING with laughter
2/2
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wanna wrap up here?