This was written as an original piece about three years ago. It was just something I wrote, inspired by one day sitting in the hallway and hearing someone in a classroom play a sweet melody on the piano. One of the most relaxing and vivid memories in my life. Anyway, this is one of my favorite pieces, and I actually never intended it to be a CL story. But reading it over today, I realized that it fit various CL characters.

In my mind, I think of the characters as Yumi and William. (Aelita and Odd really fit in my mind, too. But I've written a lot about them lately.) But really, they could be any characters at all. Use your imagination and enjoy.

"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."
-Joel Billy, Piano Man

There was something very comforting in the way she would sit in the hallway, listening to him play on the piano.

Maybe it was because it was the song that she once danced to in ballet class when she was only five. Maybe it was because he kept messing up and the piano was slightly out of tune. Maybe it was because he wasn't asking her to do anything but listen.

After class one day, the music teacher had to leave early and left her to wait for the after school bus. She did her homework in the hallway when she heard the teacher's piano playing. Entering the room with her head peeking over the side, she saw him playing the piano, cursing quietly each time he messed up.

She neither wanted to disturb him nor leave the music, so she proceeded to complete her homework outside in the hallway.

When he finished playing, he exited the room to find her packing up her books to catch the bus. He never asked why she was there. She never gave him a chance. She merely smiled, told him she liked his song, and left.

This custom repeated itself nearly every day. He never asked her why she was there, never asked her for help, never asked her to leave, never asked her opinion about anything. She would sit out in the hallway, doing some homework while enjoying the music.

Before this half hour, her life was consumed with class and homework and translations for Italian and improbable theories in history and incredibly logical calculus and heartbreak from classmates. After this half hour, her life was consumed with home and preparing dinner and cleaning and babysitting and trying her hardest not to fall apart.

It would be silly to assume that life would stop for them. It refused to slow down. It did not become the only life in existence. Janitors walked by to finish cleaning. Classmates were seen at their extracurricular activities. Teachers could be heard saying all the curse words they had been banned from saying in class.

No, life never stopped for them. Instead, it moved in the most curious of ways. This break between his life and hers was branched. They rarely spoke to one another. They only shared this half hour together.

He never asked her to do a thing but listen to his music.

And she was perfectly content to do just so.