A/N: This isn't an actual prompt, it's an idea I got after hearing Piano Man on the radio. Thanks to Jade546 for PMing me about this story, you kicked my butt into overdrive. I hope you like it lol.

Disclaimer: I don't own 5D's or the song Piano Man by Billy Joel. Or Chopsticks. Or Chopin.

Warning: ?Yusei plays piano and sings. I headcanon that he sounds like Brendon Yuri when his head isn't up his own ass and he lets himself actually have "fun". But that's not exactly a warning. So. Songfic-ish?

[ Sing Us A Song, You're The Piano Man.

Sing Us A Song Tonight. ]

There has been a 37,000.00 American dollar Suzuki grand piano in the home of the Senator since the earliest Aki can remember. It's a sleek black color, with a glossy finish and polished, ivory keys. The instrument itself weighs around 800 pounds, sitting on three, squeaky wheels, though it has never moved from where it was set up in the main living room a couple of decades ago. The once pristine leather bench is a little lumpy and stretched from years of Izayoi Setsuko sitting on it to play her songs.

The memories are fuzzy and grow steadily dimmer every year, but Aki can recall a time before her psychic abilities had awoken when she would hop up next to her mama while she played. Setsuko had tried to teach her many times, but Aki's short, stubby fingers hadn't been coordinated enough to make the beautiful music that she could, much to her frustration.

Sometimes, in the late evenings when the sun was low and the phones in the Senator's study stopped ringing, Hideo's wife would play the piano he had bought her after moving into their home. And sometimes, while Aki bounced excitedly beside her, Hideo would join them to sing in a raspy baritone that would make his family smile and sway.

Aki can still hear it if she tries hard enough.

Now, over ten years later, Aki is looking at that old, carefully preserved piano, sad nostalgia heavy and filmy in her gaze. "Have you kept playing?" she asks Setsuko, already fearing the answer. There is something about it that seems abandoned - forgotten.

Her mama smiles, the faint crow's feet around her eyes that come with age crinkling. It's a fake, forced smile; the happiness it portrays is not felt. "Oh, it's been a while."

Perhaps it is the way she says it, but hearing such a thing from her mama tears at Aki's already feeble heartstrings. She looks away, unable to meet Setsuko's indecipherable stare, focusing on the details of the beautiful, lonely, grand piano. It's like a monument - one no soul may touch or stand too close to.

She bravely asks her papa about it and Hideo tells her truthfully, "She stopped playing after we lost you. I've kept it tuned over the years, but it hasn't been touched other than that."

Grief pits in Aki's chest and she excuses herself before she can cry.

It's a rainy Friday night, months later, when she thinks about the piano again.

The forecast had called for a light drizzle in the late evening and clear skies after eight PM. What they get, however, is Mother Nature indulging in a wrathful torrent of record weather, dumping unbelievable amounts of water on Neo Domino City. The streets start to flood with the downpour, the night sky is starless in a quilt of thunderheads, and after seven, the wind picks up with a vengeance. The air is filled with the sounds of falling water, shoes splashing in puddles, screeching tires, and rumbling thunder.

Aki holds Yusei's sweater over her head - he'd taken it off and thrown it over her as soon as the rain had begun its mission to wash out the whole town. The two of them are making a mad dash for the Senator's mansion because it's the closest place they can run inside without the risk of getting kicked out.

"Hurry!" Aki says, sprinting up the driveway with Yusei on her heels.

"Right behind you," he says a little breathlessly.

Skidding to stop, she jams a key into the front door and wrestles with it a moment, then slams it open and pulls Yusei inside by the short sleeve of his t-shirt. She shuts it quickly and they stand there a moment, gasping and dripping all over the beige rug carefully placed at the entrance.

"Do you want this?" Aki asks, holding out his soaked, gray NASA sweater. He had bought it only today while they had been out running errands for the Poppo Time. It still smells clean and like factory chemicals despite the rain water soiling it.

Yusei kind of laughs and shakes his head. "Not really."

"I'll hang it up, then," she says and does exactly that, along with the cardigan she was wearing. She touches the wetness of the sweater and peers over her shoulder to look at him. The shirt Yusei's wearing isn't any dryer. All because he had lent her the sweater to stay dry (which, despite his best efforts, hadn't been very effective). She feels a little guilty and immediately leads him into the kitchen.

The two of them warm up by means of the always helpful hot chocolate. Yusei takes his with a small handful of marshmallows plopped into it, while Aki just eats them out of the bag. She takes him to the main den and together, they figure out how to start a fire in the fireplace. It takes a moment to figure out where Izayoi Hideo stores extra wood and his lighter. Once the fire ignites, grows, and is crackling healthily, they sit on the carpet in front of it, soaking in the heat it offers.

Before settling down, Aki fetches two blankets: one from the back of the sofa, the other from a hall closet. She huddles up in one after draping the other over Yusei's head. He pulls it off and smirks slightly, thanking her.

When they've finally dried off after a very long time of talking, pausing, talking some more, and sitting in semi-awkward silences, Aki decides to show him around the home.

"This is the biggest house I've ever been in," Yusei tells her nonchalantly. It isn't meant to be anything other than factual observation, but it makes Aki feel...spoiled. She'd had this entire mansion while he'd had nothing.

Aki shakes her head mentally. That's a very warped perspective, she thinks. She had only lived in the house of the Senator for her childhood and every moment, it had felt like a large prison cell. She had run away very early in life and had ended p in a place even worse. Yusei may have grown up on a toxic, murderous island and spent time in an honest-to-God real prison, but the little cottage he'd grown up in had been full of love and acceptance.

They're even, she decides.

All of this goes unsaid and the tour continues. They actually begin with the upstairs, her barren bedroom that they don't linger in very long, and all the boring secrets of the attic. She carefully avoids he parents' room, where she knows they are - she can hear their television despite the dull thrum of thunder. There's a chance they don't even know she's home, let alone that she brought Yusei. Either way, she avoids their hallway altogether.

The lowest floor is easily the most interesting, so Aki saves it for last, dragging along a very patient Yusei. He only strays away from her once to admire the few family portraits her family owns, hung up on one of the hall walls. Aki turns to look at him; his face is pensive as he scans the photos of her great-grandparents, her grandparents, her parents, and eventually, a baby Aki.

His face breaks out in a smile and he points to the toothless, grinning baby with a swirl of thin, burgundy hair. "Is this you?"

"Yes," Aki admits, blushing from embarrassment. "I was one."

"You were cute," he tells her. She rolls her eyes and he laughs.

They eventually end up in the main living room and Yusei appears exactly like he has for the rest of the tour until he spots the piano. In that moment, Aki swears his entire posture changes, matching the way his face completely lights up - and not from the lightning.

He walks over to the grand piano, keeping a respectful distance, though she can see his fingers twitch like he wants to touch the black wood. She joins him and he puts a hand to his chin, as if he's evaluating it. "Do you know what it's made of?"

"Spruce," she says, not entirely sure why she remembers that particular detail. "At least, the main body of it is spruce." She glances up at him, once again forgetting how much taller he is than her. "Do you play?"

"I did a lot when I was younger," he tells her, still staring at the instrument in awe. "Martha has that ancient piano in her family room." Aki recalls seeing it, now that she looks back on the entire two times she has visited Martha's place. "She taught me the basics, and I taught myself the rest with lesson books I found."

"Are you serious?" she asks, genuinely surprised. He nods, and she says, "I never learned. My mother is the musician." She deliberately leaves out the part where the piano hasn't been played in years. She gets the distinct impression that such a thing would break Yusei's heart as much is it does hers.

"It's a beautiful piano," he comments, tearing his gaze away from it and smiling at her. "Is there anything else you wanted to show me?"

Aki blinks up at him, the gears turning in her head. There is chance she'll get in trouble for what she says next, but it dawns on Aki that she really doesn't care. "Would you like to play it first?"

Yusei seems taken off guard by the offer. "I..." He looks at the piano, then back at her. "Would you mind?"

"No."

"Would your family?"

Aki shrugs. "If they do, then I'll take full responsibility." Yusei's face falls and fills with unease, and he opens his mouth probably to protest and Aki hurriedly cuts him off. "I'm kidding, please, go ahead." She motions to the bench.

Hesitantly, Yusei goes to sit down, peering over at her a few times in case she changes her mind. He sits there for a bit, looking the piano over and gingerly, slow as a geriatric, places his fingers on the ivory keys. Aki finds herself noticing details about his hands - they're strong, calloused, with little scars littering them from lord only knew what. And they're impressively steady, hovering for a few seconds before actually touching down.

He plays a scale. It's a double-octave, two-handed scale, like her mother used to do to warm up. But the sound is nearly deafening, despite the simplicity of it.

"It's in tune," Yusei muses. "You parents must take really good care of it."

"They do," Aki says sincerely, leaning over his shoulder to watch.

Yusei grins softly. "I hope I remember how to play. I haven't had a chance to in a long time."

Opting out of replying, Aki sets her hand on his shoulder, squeezes, and drops it. Then she takes a step back and waits. Yusei seems to think to himself, like he's deciding what to play. Then the tension in his body she hadn't even realized was there dissipates and he begins.

It's a tune she doesn't recognize, but it's beautiful. It's a slow tempo, but the notes are quick and complicated and she can't keep up with Yusei's fingers. He glances at her and he must notice the puzzled interest in her expression, because he says, "Chopin. Concerto number 1 in E minor. I found sheet music in one of the factories and kept it."

"You memorized it," Aki says in disbelief, still watching as he moves up and down the length of the piano.

"It was one of my favorites," he says. "So yeah."

Only a minute or two in, he stops, and disappointment swells within Aki. She peeks down at him and finds that he's shifting to one side of the bench. He pats it and she takes the cue to sit beside him. They're close now and Aki chews the inside of her cheek nervously.

Yusei sets his hand in front of them so that three of his fingers are over three separated keys. "This is a chord," he says, and plays all three at once. "Here, copy me."

Aki smiles and reaches out to do so.

But she stops.

Yusei is the first person to have touched this instrument - other than hired tuners - since she ran away from home. Her mama, whom the piano was purchased for, hardly ever looks at it, as if to pretend it doesn't exist. Her papa always looks so grim when he remembers it's here. And it's all because of Aki. Because Aki ran away, because Aki joined the Movement, because Aki was born a psychic.

She closes her eyes.

It wasn't her fault. How she was born, what she is - that isn't her fault. She didn't choose to have her gift. She didn't ask her parents to fear her, hide her, push her away. She didn't want any of what happened to her.

Whatever happened with this piano, it's just as much her parents' fault as it is hers.

So she does her best to copy the way Yusei is holding his hand out, and then another way, and another, and pretty soon, he's taught her half a song. She forgets her anxiety, she forgets that Hideo and Setsuko have probably heard them by now, and instead, focuses solely on Yusei and the instrument. He plays along with her, patient as always, smiling. He doesn't make fun of her when she messes up - simply corrects her politely.

It takes fifteen minutes to completely teach her a fancier version of Chopsticks. Aki thinks back to all those times her mama had tried to teach her when she was little and had failed. She wonders if the problem had been age, mentality, or teaching styles. Whatever it is, Yusei is a miracle worker, and they start from the beginning of the tune and play through it together, stifling the house with an upbeat, feel-good melody.

It is the most alive the Senator's mansion has felt in forever.

Both of them finish and sit back, grinning like idiots. "Good job," Yusei tells her, pride bright in his eyes.

"Thanks," Aki says, flushing.

He chuckles at her and thoughtfully bites his lower lip through the smile.

He launches into another song.

The piano part itself is easy to follow, though far too complicated for Aki to even attempt to copy. But it is a song that Aki recognizes - it's an old one, one her papa and mama used to dance to when it came on the radio.

Billy Joel: Piano Man.

Yusei sings. It surprises her because she has never heard him do such a thing before.

"It's nine o'clock on a Saturday
The regular crowd shuffles in
There's an old man sitting next to me
Makin' love to his tonic and gin"

Aki doesn't know what she expected out of Yusei's singing voice. It's low, tenor, with the barest hint of a rasp, and warm and clear. His eyes close and he smiles as he sings and Aki feels so happy in that moment because he has one of the most beautiful voices she has ever heard.

It's so unexpected, for a man as stoic and uptight as Yusei to let loose in song. But his fingers jump over the keys, precise and with such practiced skill that Aki is left in the pure, sweet amazement. He doesn't hold back when he sings, either, his voice loud and mirthful.

"He says, "Son, can you play me a memory
I'm not really sure how it goes
But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man's clothes."

La la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum"

Yusei nudges her shoulder, his own bouncing with the effort of playing. He grins widely at her and she laughs, belting out the next set of lyrics with him.

"Sing us a song, you're the piano man!
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us feelin' alright"

For a few minutes, with Yusei playing and both of them singing as loud and as free as they want, it feels like they are the only two people on Earth. Aki doesn't have a bad singing voice and somehow, by some grace of God, their little duet sounds really good. The realization makes her teem with joy.

For a moment, she thinks: I don't care if Mama and Papa hear.

"Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me my drinks for free
And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke
But there's someplace that he'd rather be
He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me."
As the smile ran away from his face
"Well I'm sure that I could be a movie star
If I could get out of this place"

Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum

Now Paul is a real estate novelist
Who never had time for a wife
And he's talkin' with Davy, who's still in the Navy
And probably will be for life

And the waitress is practicing politics
As the businessmen slowly get stoned
Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it's better than drinkin' alone"

Yusei breaks off into the famous piano solo here, hitting every notes perfectly. Aki can't stop smiling while watching him relish in the music - it has to be one of the most pure, adorable things she has ever seen. He's so happy. So free.

The solo wraps up and returns to the usual pattern and together, they sing again, raucous and unrestrained.

"Sing us a song you're the piano man!
Sing us a song tonight
Well we're all in the mood for a melody
And you got us feeling alright

It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday
And the manager gives me a smile
'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see
To forget about life for a while
And the piano, it sounds like a carnival!
And the microphone smells like a beer
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say, "Man, what are you doin' here?"

Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum"

Out of the corner of her eye, Aki sees Hideo and Setsuko standing side-by-side on the stairs. Hideo has an arm wrapped around his wife's waist, who seems to have tears in her eyes.

Aki doesn't give any indication that she noticed them. They're obviously here privately, wordless, trying not to disturb them. So Aki resolutely ignores them, smiling at Yusei, who smiles back, and they finish the song even louder.

They're elated.

And free.

"Sing us a song you're the piano man!
Sing us a song tonight!
Well we're all in the mood for a melody!
And you got us feeling alright!"