A Bunch of Blues

Seto's Sad Song

A/N: I don't own the song or the video... I put the song there because that's what Seto is playing in this one-shot. Sad Song by We the Kings.

This particular room in the mansion was long forgotten—at the very least, but it was kept clean nonetheless. There was absolutely nothing in it... Well, nothing except a lonesome grand piano.

He could barely remember the last time he had stepped into this room and had laid eyes on the musical instrument that had cost a fortune. It wasn't a measly grand piano. From the touch and sight of the woodwork, a trained eye could see that it had been carefully crafted, and if he was such an idealist, he would even go so far as to say that the instrument held a portion of its maker's soul. He knew from the way it sounded whenever the keys were pressed. The sounds were always melodious—and seemingly alive.

The man subconsciously approached it, his tall and imposing figure casting long shadows across the room due to the light of the moon filtering through the uncovered glass windows. There was no form of ventilation in this room, whatsoever, but there was a cool draft lingering in the air; almost as if the celestial being hanging upon the starlit sky urged the only occupant of the room to acknowledge the enthralling chill it held.

He wasn't even completely sure of what he was doing here in the middle of the night, or what had urged him to climb out of bed just to see a musty old musical instrument that did not have any use to him. The piano had long existed ever since he and his brother had moved in with their stepfather.

Without so much as a lingering thought, he found himself sliding onto the bench. His fingers pried the lid open, revealing the uniformed series of white and black keys that played a specific melody when pressed with skill. For a moment, he was unsure of what to do; hesitant to even touch the keys for the slight idea that the piano itself did not want to be ruptured so abruptly from its semblance of serenity. He watched the way the silvery light of the moon shone against the glossy top of the piano, and he realized he was being ridiculous.

This instrument was merely an object; a vessel for playing music, a way of expression for those who loved to tinker with it and communicate their emotions through the melodies that they played. He shouldn't even be here, in the first place. He had a multibillion dollar company to run, and sitting before a musical instrument and staring at it shouldn't be in his to-do list—at all. It was ridiculous, and impeccably silly, but he seemed drawn to it all of a sudden. He cautiously placed both of his hands on the keys; stared at his own fingers as they ghosted over the blacks and the whites.

Gingerly, he pressed down on the middle C, and listened to the way the tone seemed to reverberate throughout the room. He found it strange that the sound wasn't disturbing. In fact, the night seemed to have welcomed it; acknowledging the sound of a forlornly played key as it echoed in the empty room

A memory tucked away in the recesses of his mind drifted to the surface. Twas a memory of the very first time he had touched the white key and heard its resounding melody. He had been fascinated with it when he was but a child. His parents immediately encouraged him to learn and practice the basics. He always did whenever he had ample time. His mother had been the one who had urged him with a smile to love the music that the instrument produced; to internalize it and etch it into his memory so he would never forget. She had told him that it was her dream to learn how to play it, but that dream had never reached fruition. On her death bed, he had sworn to never forget how to play the instrument. He swore that he would forever remember the harmonies of each melody; ingrained it upon his mind until it was burned into his heart forever.

When his father had passed away, he had nearly forgotten that promise he had made to his mother. The orphanage wasn't exactly an ideal place to make merry music, and besides, he had lost interest and the drive to even play it. He resolved to forget it, deciding to focus his efforts into being a father-figure for his little brother who needed him then more than ever, but that never happened.