Sixteenth PSI

[a_gentle_boy]

[For most of the summer, torturous sounds have been coming from the music room of the school during the late afternoons.  After deciding the recorder was a bust, Lucas had moved on to the violin, the trumpet, and the flute, passing through each one and deciding in short order that he had better stop for the good of humanity.  It was only about about three weeks ago that he had decided to try his hand at the piano sitting dusty and forgotten in the corner.

He had seen something like it before, with the DCMC.  Duster had taught him a little about instruments while they'd been traveling -- He'd even been allowed to pluck a little at Duster's bass.  And, of course, there'd been that whole business with feeling the beat of the enemy's life force.  This didn't mean that he knew anything about playing instruments.  The futility of the summer had proved that.  Yet . . . when he'd begun to plonk away at the keys . . . something just clicked.  Sure, the torturous sounds continued.  But after a little while . . . they at least began to resolve themselves into something vaguely resembling a song.

It was a song he wouldn't forget soon.  The song that had played in that room . . . The song that meant . . .   And with his last meeting with Vince still fresh in his mind, Lucas somehow thought he knew what the song was trying to say.]

Do you hear me call to you?  Can you even hear my heart's cry?
Still I call out to the wind . . . Even as it flows on by, for
I believe our dreams can still come true.  I'll always keep my faith and trust in you

Even if I'm a fool, I'll always feel the same about you.  I believe in friends and laughter and the wonders love can do; I believe in second chances and that's why I still believe in you.

 . . . . . . i . . . believe in second chances . . . . . . .

[Later that night, he returns to the park and sings his song quietly with a good sense of pitch.  He is wearing his school clothes from last year.  They are too small for him.
Time moves on.]

((Feel free to comment while Lucas is practicing on the piano as well. He will sound pretty awful unless he's playing this song.))

Comments

[kimitoaruiteku.livejournal.com]

Of course it wouldn't be a bother! It's no trouble at all.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

Then thank you . . . I'd really appreciate it.

[kimitoaruiteku.livejournal.com]

So what's your world like? [Is curious as to why he didn't go to school. Did they not have school?]

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[Lucas realizes the reason he's asking quickly enough.]

Oh. Well . . . There weren't many people. It was only really just the one town. And there were only a few kids there, so it wasn't worth having school.

[kimitoaruiteku.livejournal.com]

Sounds kind of like my home. I lived in the country and we had a small school though. A lot of the kids in the area would come. The town was very small too.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

. . . When I say small, I mean really small. There was just me and my brother, Fuel, Nichol, and Richie.

[kimitoaruiteku.livejournal.com]

... That's all? Were you able to go visit other people elsewhere...?

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

As far as we knew, no other kids lived on our island at all.

[kimitoaruiteku.livejournal.com]

Wow. I once had to live on an island with just my brother and nothing else but that was just for one month... I couldn't imagine not being around so few people for a long time... I bet you were all really close though.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

We . . . were.

[At one point in the past. Lucas looks uncomfortable for a few seconds before changing topic.]

You have a brother, too? What's his name?

[kimitoaruiteku.livejournal.com]

Ed. Edward Elric. He's here in Mayfield.

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

Ah . . . That must be a little easier for you. Or. Well, it's good and it's bad, too, I mean.