The Tears of a Song (OPEN)

[Rouge Ako]

The summer air was as calm as the garden surrounding the academy but with the subtle wind gave a slight breeze to the warm air, very welcoming to most people. Walking through the gardens, the trees offering shade from the beating orange sun, most would follow the gravel trails that would lead them to either the tracing fields or the building, but many didn’t follow the trail that lead deeper into the garden. Following the gravel trail one’s ears will no longer be filled with the silent fall air and chilling breeze that came with it but instead of a soothing sound, one that changes its tune in a instant as it’s snakes it’s way through the garden. Most would recognize the sound of a violin from the pitches and notes it was producing.

Coming closer to the noise, and farther into the gardens, a since of calm in the tones erupted into the air, the birds have gone silent and whatever was left of the wind seemed to have stopped still to allow this music to come through. Within only a few moments of the Calm came the storm, the calamity, of noises that most wouldn’t think could come from a violin. Jagged notes and sharp cuts made the melody stronger and impactful to the ears, as if the song was crying out in so much untamed emotion. Then from the center of this storm came a build up of sharp yet long strokes of the bow, until there was no longer any jagged movements but long, deep cuts of the bow across the strings of the violin. The dust now setting.

There are the center of the perfect storm of sounds was Rouge Ako, holding his red violin, black roses decorating it’s edges, sweating, and breathing deeply. He lowered his weapons, the bow and violin, at his sides and looked into the tree line above him. The outfit he wore was his uniform clothing but he discarded the jacket onto the ground next to him and the scarlet hair was dropping down and covering his eyes like dripping blood. Sweat was covering his exposed tan skin that came from the passing summer’s sun. He didn’t say a word nor think of a word, he only listened to the silence the garden provided that came after the noise of his music.

He was here to let it all out. He was letting go of the anger and fear he held onto for the last few months, and it felt amazing. A smile, a genuine one, came to his face as he felt this since of relief. He spent many months hiding away and brooding for his loss but he came to realize that it was for naught. He’s watched the other students, those of the same year or younger than him, live their days with smiles. He was going to follow suit and not let the past year have anymore effect on his future here at Beacon than he already has. So he just smiled.