Ray Oneshot Book [The Promised Neverland]

Survivors

Ray x Kuudere!Reader

[Angst/Borderline Fluff]

Requested by: @Yuzakura_Miu

Your theme is Lycoris Radiata by Spikes

Perfect posture, perfect grades, and perfect pitch. A perfect child for this house, Gracefield had only the finest of orphans. It was like you were born perfect. You had such fair skin, silky hair, and a plump body that was ripe for the picking. Not to mention your intelligence, you were a quick learner and always scored high marks during the tests. You were musically inclined and you had a talent for playing by ear; you would hear someone humming a tune and then you would know the note off the top of your head.

Isabella was incredible for raising such bright children, she must have felt so proud of herself. Raising orphans for slaughter was easier said than done. As a Mama, she had to cut off all feelings of love towards the cattle, that way she wouldn't feel as guilty when seeing them die in front of her eyes. Isabella was cold as ice, never hot-headed, forever faking any and every emotion whatsoever. Before, nothing could make her crack...

But she only noticed this now. It was the fire that began to melt the woman's cold nature. Right before her, was a sight she never wanted to see.

Isabella shut her eyes and leaned against the wall of the hallway, the opposite side from where you were sitting. The woman just couldn't bring herself to look away. She feels something in her chest ache, the soft tune coming from the music room was almost a complete repeat of her past. It was something she wished she never remembered.

Isabella recalled those times which seemed like centuries ago. Fingers plucking strings, guitar picks, a lullaby tune. She remembered feeling the gentle summer breeze touching the back of her neck whenever her hair was up in a braid. She remembered leaning against a tree, listening to the musician play for her and only her. His name had already been forgotten long ago.

Instead of a mandolin, it was a piano. Still a string instrument, but it wasn't the same, it didn't feel right. It made the woman feel uneasy as if a disaster would come after when the song would be finished. Isabella was saddened every time she heard you play, it was like the same tragedy repeating itself but it wasn't with her.

It was with her son.

The mere thought was enough to bring tears to her eyes. The woman glanced past the door frame, her hand over her chest because her heart was breaking from the sight. She saw you playing softly yet gracefully, your emotions were being poured out from every note you played as if you were expressing your secret suffering. She understood that very well.

It was a fairly old piece; Lacrimosa written by Mozart, you could play it with your eyes closed. Just by gently running your fingers over the black keys was enough for you to know where you were. You were never lost when it came to playing music, it was just like breathing. Smooth like a stream of water on a summer day, nothing was more beautiful than the delicate sounds in the air.