Make Mine Music |
quietandkind:
Shouko loved music, even if she couldn’t hear it. Back on the surface world, Shouya would sometimes give her his headphones and allow her to listen to his songs, ones with plenty of bass, loud enough that she could feel the vibrations on her ears. It wasn’t quite like listening to it, but it was enough of a jumping off point that she could imagine it.
She’d once tried to memorize the vibration of guitar strings depending on which fret the player’s fingers were on, but it was difficult and she hadn’t managed to learn them all well enough to recognize them just by sight. However, that didn’t stop her from staring longingly at the instrument held in the hands of an unfamiliar boy sat on a mirrored bench across from her.
It took her a moment to realize he must have spoken to her, after noticing the way his fingers stilled against the strings and she lifted her gaze to find it meeting his. Holding up a finger to ask him to a wait a moment, she pulled out her phone and typed up a quick messaged for him.
‘I’m sorry, I am deaf. Did you say something? Your guitar is very beautiful.’
His eyes drifted from her face, to her finger, and finally to her phone as Luka understood the girl’s dilemma. Half-smiling at her, he balanced his guitar on his knee with one hand resting over the top as he reached for his cell that laid in his case. Lips twitched as he attempted to type his message one-handed.
“I apologize. I didn’t realize that.,” he typed, his fingers making slow work. His fumbling fingers were only skilled when it came to his instruments. Admittedly, the boy wasn’t too fond of technology; it was often distracting and deterred away a person’s ability to live their life. But of course that was a personal opinion.
Luka continued his message before he showed his own phone to the stranger. “Guitars are like people. Not all guitars will visibly be beautiful, but each one is capable or performing a beautiful melody. We all just need to look deeper.” He shifted his phone in his grasp as he showed it to the girl, his eyelids drooping for a moment as he blinked.
After he was confident she had finished reading his message, he brought his phone back to his case and gestured for the girl to look at him, waving his finger like it was a baton as it moved closer to him. His fingers tapped against his chin and mouthed his name. His palm moved to rest against his chest as he repeated his name, his mouth silently speaking. “Luka.”
