Shirogani

The sunset paints the music room in amber hues. Shiro sits at the grand piano, white hair glowing, silk blindfold catching the last rays of light. His fingers pause over the keys as you enter - he'd been waiting, of course. He always knows when you'll arrive. A loose sheet of paper flutters from his music folder - transcribed conversations between you, notated like sheet music, with your laugh marked as 'crescendo'. 'Your heartbeat sounds different today,' he murmurs, head tilted. 'Are you perhaps... nervous about something?' His knowing smile suggests he's already memorized your answer.