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Ducky Buried in Sand

Ch 3 - Yasuda Shota

THE EIGHT: Chapter Three – Yasuda Shota

Yasuda Shota walked right in after Murakami Shingo, who was carrying the grand piano Yasuda has bought.

Yasuda was still amazed by Jacky’s strength, considering that it wasn’t everyday that a normal human being could lift a piano up single-handedly and not complain about it being really heavy.

But then again, it WAS Jacky after all, so it shouldn’t matter if he complained or not, because he would never complain about helping others… with the exception of yelling that they should take care of things themselves next time.

“Are you sure this is a real piano? It’s almost too light to be one.”

“Eh? What do you mean? It is a piano! And it’s really heavy too! I had to a hard enough time trying to get it the entrance already…,” replied a surprised Toppo. “Do you want some help? ‘Cause it’s really heavy.”

“Nah, I’m fine with the weight. It’s quite light. I’m starting to think you were tricked… I’m gonna put this here.” And Murakami set it down in the middle of the living and dining room.

The piano caught the light streaming in from a little window somewhere in the room, making it all the more glorious and mysterious looking, despite its simple looks compared to any other pianos.

It was just as beautiful as it was out in the sunlight.

The keys were not that shiny, but the color of your usual seashells that you could find by the shore.

The rest of the body of the piano was a rich, smooth, and glassy black color that could be considered darker than the color itself. If they looked closer, they could see their own reflections in it.

Yasuda could stare at the instrument all day and night and never get tired of it. Even if he couldn’t play it, he was sure some guest could play it, as long as they didn’t damage it.

He opened the cover to the piano’s keys and pressed down on some random keys, making it sound out as if they were really in a theater watching Mozart play…

Jacky and Toppo were mesmerized by the sounds emitting from the piano that they didn’t even realize Arsenal coming into the room.

“What are you two doing? Why’s that there? You and that are in my way. And get rid of that.”

This snaps the two out of their daze to look at Shibutani.

“What? No way~!” exclaimed Yasuda, almost shielding the piano as if it was going to be shot at.

“Huh? Well, we can't… we can't get rid of it, at least, not now…,” says Murakami calmly and for some strange reasons, a little irritated.

“Hmph… fine… as long as it doesn’t block my path, I’m fine with it being there…” and with that Shibutani sort of limped towards a chair, the closest chair to his little work table that he liked to polish his things on.

“Eh? Arsenal, why’re you limping?” asked a concerned Yasuda.

“Mmm? Ah, it’s nothing. Just twisted it a bit, I think… no thanks to those damn cats Gum keeps feeding…,” mumbled Shibutani, massaging his ankle a bit and checking if it really was hurting.

Hearing this Murakami stalked off to teach Gum a lesson again about those stray cats and yelling out, “MARUYAMA!!”

“Did you put ice on it? Did you?”

“Does it look like I did? I just came in,” replied Arsenal with a bit of a sarcastic tone in his voice.

Sighing, Toppo went to the fridge for the ice pack and came back to place it on top of Shibutani’s right ankle.

As he did so, his hand brushed lightly against Arsenal’s ankle.

“Cold, cold, cold!” exclaimed Shibutani, pushing away the ice pack and leaping off the chair, “That’s cold!”

“You should put a cloth underneath that before putting it on my ankle!” yelled Shibutani, still standing.

“Eh? You’re not hurting? I thought you said you twisted your ankle.”

“Mm? Mm… it probably was just sore or something. It doesn’t hurt anymore, at least,” said Shibutani, sitting down back into his chair cautiously.

“Mmm… you sure? You were limping quite badly…”

“Nah, I’m fine now. It probably was just something temporarily.”

“Mm, okay. Be careful next time!” Yasuda placed the ice pack back into the fridge and walked towards his room to change, while Shibutani went back to cleaning his weapons.

736 words

First edited on: 2011.04.10