MUSIC ROOM

[whimsicalism]

The music room's resident, A, can be contacted by playing a flute or other instrument alone in the music room. She's there if you need her. Comments are screened until the end of the round.

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Week 0, Thursday Evening

[keyringwitness]

[Yasu knows that it's probably not the best idea to bother A so soon after the game of hide and seek, so instead, after noodling around with the piano a bit, Yasu leaves a note, some more cookies (cinnamon-sugar this time, and slightly better baked at that), and a doll with blond hair behind (thanks Emma), tucked in an obscure corner where hopefully the Little Brothers won't be able to find it.]

Miss,
I'm sorry for bothering you again so soon, but one of my classmates got a doll in a vending machine from my home. Another friend of mine who couldn't hold a corporeal form used it as a vessel sometimes; I did ask her for permission about whether you could use it and she said yes, so it should be nice and comfortable for you.

Now that I've properly met you, I was hoping to redo my drawing. It might sound silly to you, but... giving something a proper form can go a long way to making it more real and able to be "seen." I truly believe that. However, I understand that telling me about what you physically look like is dangerous—if the principal finds it somehow, he could deduce that you've still here. I'd like to do this for you regardless, though! Like... how old are you, for one? Is there anything you'd like me to put in there? All of that sort of thing! I'd still like it for it to feel you more than that sheep I drew earlier, even if I can't actually draw you.

Have a good day,
S
S
Yasu

[Mighty articulate for a "nine" year-old.]

[whimsicalism]

[Much later, there's a note found under Yasu's door:]

Thank you, my friend. The best I can do right now is say I'm fourteen. I think maybe if you could draw me with a flute, I'd like that.

Also, I do love dolls. Having one of my own again makes me more happy than I can say even if I'm using it as a vessel right now. Thank you so much and the cookies are very tasty, to boot.

[It's not signed, of course, but if Yasu looks for the doll she'll find it in the spot she placed it but facing in a different direction with a pen clutched in it's little hand.]

This would be Friday then

[keyringwitness]

[Fun fact: this is the first time a human other than Jessica has seriously called Yasu a friend! She is going to Need A Moment after this for a little while!!!!

She works furiously over the course of the next few hours to sketch the drawing for A, this has to be the Best Thing That She's Ever Made or Yasu will perish. She even references some human anatomy textbooks to fix her problems with drawing profiles incorrectly and messing up the size of body parts.

What she ends up with is a early teens-ish looking girl, drawn with past-the-shoulder, curly, blonde hair (sorry, A, the Little Brother is still the best mental image she has of the physical-you). Two ribbons with a black-and-white pattern are bow-tied in her hair where Yasu put the horns on the first drawing. She wears a mask covering the top half of her face that's arranged like a waxing crescent moon, one eye slit in the white of the moon, the other in the darkness of the night. There's a note explaining that Yasu felt weird drawing her face when she's never seen it and so made a mask instead; she further details her rationale by saying that nighttime is the safest time to practice magic, is when she met A in the first place, and that Yasu always liked reading by moonlight. Also, she thought the moon design looked pretty.

The gijinka is clothed in a frilly, mostly-black dress, but wrapped around the torso are musical notes on a staff that are actually melody fragments from the small bits of notation that Yasu scribbled down in her notebook on the way to the music room before they turned to ash; if A looks closely, she'll find that the patterns on the ribbon are the same. The cuffs of the dress, however, are cluttered with buttons and silver lining that mimic the valves of a flute, and similar buttons and knobs are on the boots of the outfit. And, of course, the girl is posed and properly playing a flute.

Accompanying the drawing that definitely took out time that Yasu should've been using to study for the spelling bee and her classwork is another note.]

Here you are! This is my first time drawing for someone else; I didn't think you were going to notice that first doodle, if I'm being honest.

I was wondering, would you like to come to the co-ed dance inside the doll? It must be lonely having to make your own fun all the time, and when I heard that Reika is accompanying Jeanne, I thought it wouldn't be too strange to take you with me too so you don't miss out. You won't be able to move or talk much, but being there with someone should still be better than hovering at the edges at best, and I think the Little Brothers believe I'm childish enough that bringing a doll to a party wouldn't make them bat an eye.

Truthfully, I'd also love to have a friend like you there... everyone is nice, but all the people are overwhelming sometimes.

I hope you enjoy,
Yasu

Week 0, Sunday Afternoon

[keyringwitness]

[The day after the dance, Yasu comes to the music room again. This time, she lingers rather than dropping a letter and leaving. Yasu sits at the piano, her shaking fingers tapping out an equally shaky melody that wanders through A's song.

She doesn't speak for almost ten minutes. Yasu just plays the song, struggling to force the admission through her throat. But it does eventually come, whispered underneath the melody, like it's physically painful for her to say.]

...I'm, um, twelve years old. Not nine. [Yasu exhales sharply, like she'd been holding a breath in for three years.] I don't know why Genji and Kumasawa and Nanjo told me to lie about m- my age. Something to do with my, er, "physical development," I think, but they were always v- vague.

I... [A pause as she forces out another painful truth.] If, if I die or disappear or something, I... don't want plain, shy Yasu to be the only one that's remembered. [She spits her name out with a derision that A's only seen a hint of, when the Principal finally got under her skin.] I want someone to know the r- real me, at least a little bit.

[Yasu has to search for the right words again, but they don't elude her as long this time.] I'm glad to be here, as... pathetic... as that is. It's like I'm more welcome here than at Gospel House, or Rokkenjima, or anywhere. Which is, er, silly. Especially now. It's just... I've never, um, had so many friends before, s- so I can't shake the thought. [She sighs.] But everyone else is friends with Yasu. T- The girl who can't stop stuttering. The nine year-old who's such a doormat that she looks for orders when she's finally free. And I am all those things, but... I'm more, too. At least I like to think I am, as a- awful a job I do with, um, showing it.

[Her voice is fragile.] ...I still remember when you called me "bright." And said you liked my drawing, and my cookies, and a bunch of other things. It made me feel like I'm someone other than Yasu, for once.

I think that's why you're the one I'm telling all this too. [She trails off, getting lost in her playing.]

[whimsicalism]

[During most of this there's silence in the room. Not empty silence, however. The slight coolness in the air is present. The doll of Beatrice doesn't move but it's eyes are focused on Yasu. Yes, there's silence but it's silence with a purpose.

A's listening. Then there's a slight nod from the doll.]

I think we're a lot alike. Wanting to be noticed, to be special despite how other people shine... Wanting desperately to be the person people don't remember as the person who used to stumble over their own name... I don't want to be remembered as any of those things.

[A's gaze is hard to interpret when she's possessing a doll.] Thanks for letting me know. Finally being able to do something you want to do despite what might be 'better' is really freeing. I might not be able to show it much yet but I do appreciate what you've done for me. After all, you were the one who covered for me back when I possessed that load of tin.

[A little hand, cool to the touch but probably not unwelcome, touches Yasu's.]

Wanting to show someone a bit of your true self is understandable. [A thinks, considers. Then she speaks:] Why don't we consider this a game? There's a game I've heard about called 'Truth or Dare'... If you pick truth, you have to say something true and if you say dare you have to do something the other person asks. You picked 'Truth' and I asked you a question and now it's my turn. That way if anyone asks we were just talking to each other, hm?

[Her voice is a little sly, a little conspiratorial. Of course, it's broken by a little laugh.] I understand, though. I don't want them to know what I don't like about myself. Sometimes I still feel like a little kid, waiting at home for my parent to return. I grew up but some things don't feel like they did.

[keyringwitness]

[Understanding is something that Yasu has always wanted, but never quite found. In the eyes of the other servants, of the other orphans, of Jessica, of everyone, Yasu was a background extra who needed to be scolded whenever she got in the way of the main players at worst, or a side character who was appreciated but never regarded at best. Even with Kumasawa, there was a disconnect, some kind of melancholy fog in her old eyes that Yasu could never make herself seen through.

So as painful as it is to hear that A has gone through enough that she could understand... Yasu's glad, too. Despite how cold A's presence is, being seen for once in her life fills her with warmth. Yasu flinches at A's frosty grasp, but she finally stops her playing to wrap her hand around the doll's tiny one as delicately as she can manage, and whisper-shouts,] You were really brave, too! Getting our attention like that must've been risky, so... I'm glad that I helped, even a little bit.

[She nods, listening raptly to A's proposal. Something about the tone of her voice makes Yasu blush, the red in her cheeks highlighted by how cold the air is, but she doesn't pay it any mind.] I, um, understand. I never had any parents, but... that feeling of waiting, like your life can't start until something—no, someone—precious comes back... I get it, I think. [The times between Battler's visits weren't defined by a burning, feverish longing, at least not yet. But there was a spark there, one that made it feel like if Yasu just found the courage to reach out for it the next time he visited, her life would finally start somehow. That everything would be fine, that she'd have someplace to belong to instead of being just another orphan.

(An echo of that spark begins to stir, shaking off the frost slowly, but it's nascent. So subtle that Yasu doesn't even notice enough of it to dismiss.)]

It's my turn now, right? Um... [Yasu taps her chin with her free hand, pondering.] I... It's not that I don't want to tell people more about myself. I just plain can't. Every time I try to, I... something wraps around my throat. Tells me that I can't speak yet. That it's... "not my role to play."

For some reason, it's, um, easier with you. It's still so hard, l- like I have to break a chain with nothing but my bare hands. It took hours to get enough strength to force how old I really am through, but at least it was... possible, with you.

I can do it when I'm "playing a game" like this, though. That's something else I don't understand. [A pause as she bites her lip.] I'm... scared. I never had to follow rules like this back home. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, with how dangerous everything is, but it still scares me. I don't now what changed when I was brought here from there, b- but something did, and I feel less me than I did before.

[A realization hits her. This time, when Yasu stops, a faint smile lights up on her face despite the anxiety that strangled her throat and wrapped its way around her confession.] I think I know why it's easier to tell you, now that I'm thinking about it.

But isn't it your turn now? I, um, don't just want to focus on how bad I feel. Especially since hearing you... it makes me feel better, I think.

[cellpreservation]

[Poking his head in.]

Hello?

[whimsicalism]

[There's almost nothing new here...but A responds.]

Yuta, right?

[cellpreservation]

[Oh so she IS here. He steps inside, shutting the door behind him.]

Yeah, that's right. I guess I just had some questions, if you have time?

[violence_ensues]

[Well, that sure was a bloodbath of a time. Adorabat spent several more "cycles" of using soap to get the stench of blood off of her as much as possible in the morning. Some time after, she enters the music room and spots a banjo.

She hasn't really been to any of her banjo practice lessons at home, but she'll use it anyway, to call A. She takes it and strums, creating a sort-of-dissonant storm of cacophonic noise, looking a little troubled.]

[whimsicalism]

[It doesn’t take long:]

Hey—that’s one way of saying hi! What’s the problem?

[violence_ensues]

[Adorabat rubs the back of her head.]

Umm... Have you noticed some strange things happening recently? Like... last night?

Week 3 | Sunday

[cellpreservation]

[Poking his head into the music room again.]

Hello? Anyone here?

[whimsicalism]

Hey, Yuta. Yesterday was pretty rough, huh.

[cellpreservation]

Kind of, yeah. I'm worried about the others. Everyone's morale just keeps sinking...

[Although he personally doesn't look too bothered, comparatively.]

Week 3, Sunday

[temmapathy]

[After her investigation of the detention room, Emma heads to the music room, where she grabs a mallet and starts banging on a drum.]

[whimsicalism]

I'm here, I'm here.

[Of course, it's somehow projected onto Emma's glasses.]

What's up?

Week 3 Wednesday

[keyringwitness]

[It's been three weeks since Yasu and the rest of the class met A, on that mystical, moonlit night. (The night not actually being moonlit isn't as important as the impression that it had given off in that moment.) Two weeks since Yasu bared her heart to A in the wake of the Principal's announcement.

A week since-

Yasu had been determined to keep it all buried in her heart, no matter how much A's soothing cold that settled into her tie or half-murmured conversations in the music room or simple, companionable silence had tried to dig it up. But after Edward's trial, after his last words, after all those dreams that had only grown in disquieting clarity...

There was never going to be another chance, was there? Not if they stayed here in the academy until Yasu inevitably died, not if she escaped to her home (did she even have one?) to play out her own role.

It's late in the evening when Yasu finally shuffles her way over to the music room for her usual "practice," returning after a few days absence following Edward's trial. She's nervous, fidgeting as she slides into the slightly-oversized bench and starts tapping out a tune, trying to work up the nerve.]

I, um... [Yasu gulps.] Are you there, A?

I... I keep on thinking about, er. How much I'd miss you, if we ever find our way home.

[whimsicalism]

[As usual, the doll toddles over to the bench and jumps up next to Yasu. She inclines her head.] Of course, I am.

[She glances at the piano then back at her.] You would? I know I'd miss everyone here... but you're different than them.

Tuesday, Week 3

[canismajorcontrolfreak]

[Again, Dylan got distracted from doing an important thing, but luckily that hasn't come back to bite him this time. He has a conversation he needs to have, and he needs to do it now.

He carefully holds the sketchbook in his teeth, making sure not to damage it. He doesn't put it down until he finds one of the simpler instruments he could play, rolling out a brass drum like he's a professional birler, before jumping off and knocking it over. Passing up whatever drumsticks the room has to offer, he takes a deep breath.]

I really hope this works, and I don't just look like an idiot.

[And before he can think about it for too long, he plays a drum roll.]

Re: Tuesday, Week

[whimsicalism]

[It takes a little time but eventually:]

I'm up, I'm up! What's up?

Week 3 | Wednesday, before heading to School Store

[violence_ensues]

[Adorabat comes walking in slowly. She heads toward the banjo and picks it up, giving it a single strum, and waits for A to wake up. She doesn't really know that doing this isn't necessary.]

[whimsicalism]

Hey. You... were... wondering if I wanted to get married to... Nanami?

[A sounds. Well. She sounds very confused. She might have had a very confusing night last night about you, Adorabat.]

Week 4, Wednesday, not technically music room but still a good place to have this thread

[keyringwitness]

[In the wake of the catastrophe yesterday, Yasu and A have been picking up the pieces together, slowly but surely. The illusion has been broken, impaled upon a stake of horrifying truth... but they can build a new magic, together.

Which is to say that Yasu spent almost all of Tuesday clinging to A's doll and intermittently crying, giving A an up-close and personal look at her natural wavy brown hair and yellow eyes before they return to "normal" the next day.

On Wednesday, Yasu is... slightly more functional, at least. Her golden hair and blue eyes are back, she's able to shuffle out to grab food (although she does skip out on the meeting), and she responds to A in complete sentences rather than sniffles and nigh-incomprehensible stuttering.

However, all this time together means that Yasu no longer has an excuse to put off asking the question she's been wondering about since Monday night.]

A... [she says as she snuggles up close to the doll.]

You're not Ao Hoshizaki, are you?

[whimsicalism]

[A has been mostly quiet. Yet the coldness of the doll made it clear that she was still there. The small hands did what they could, patting and holding where she could.

That question made her stop.]

…

You could say that, yes.