-October 2013-

My finger twirled in the air as I kept time with Sana, who was singing "Le Tourbillon de la Vie" playfully. The fan was on in our practice space, obscuring his voice a little, but it still rang clear and lovely. I rejoined him on guitar, dancing a little. I couldn't help but smile, bouncing along with him. He often made us practice French music. I think it kept us on our toes. We never really knew what kind of sheet music he'd bring us. Today, it was an old favorite as we waited for everyone else to arrive.

Annie sat in front of us on the couch, dancing, too. She was mouthing the words, having heard them about a thousand times. It was honestly a good warm up, a good exercise for my fingers and Sana's pronunciation due to the slowness and then gathering fast pacing of the song. We sometimes ran through it together a few times, stretching, so to speak.

I jumped as drums started up behind me. I whipped my head back, grinning. Shion had sat down on the drum throne, beginning to keep time for us. We all danced to the beat, feeling the song. Sana's voice lent it a special sweetness. I made a face, and Sana's voice faltered a little. I peered up at him, and he was smiling so much, trying not to laugh. I made another face, trying to trip him up. His hand went up over his mouth, but he maintained his composure. Always the professional. He wouldn't crack.

The song ended, and Shion's drum stick went straight up into the air. "Now 'J'ai la Memoire Qui Flanche'!" She called out. She went into the beat before we could react. This was another old favorite. We all knew it by heart.

"Quick, Annie! Bass!" I called to her in a loud whisper, like it was a secret. She jumped up off the couch and dashed to her bass. She loved this song, especially the end where it got slow and romantic. She picked it up and threw the strap around herself, and pulled up a chair. She plopped down and her leg went over her knee, her bass going over that. She joined in, popping her mouth a bit in the timing to get it right.

As we played, I couldn't help but think about something I'd wanted for years. How perfect it would be. Should I bring it up again?

As Sana sang these familiar words, his French perfect and flying. As Shion improvised the same drums she always did. As Annie played the bass with such a sureness, the perfect bass player for Sana, understanding his hearing needs better than anyone... I thought the most forbidden thing in the universe.

Let's forget Lyra and start our own band. The four of us. What do you think?

It could be perfect. Sana and I would write the songs. We could forget Yami, who was always a problem. Annie and Sana could be in the same band again, happy together. Shion would be with us, finally free to play the variety that she wanted, that she was always complaining to me about. In fact, both Annie and Shion could. No more being forced to play something we didn't want. Our band leaders wanted us to play what was popular, but we wanted to play these weird things. Be happy. Be free. We could be free.

So much was changing lately. Things were picking up for Hexen, so Annie had to stop playing bass for us. She'd gotten into a huge argument with her sister about it, but in the end she was doing it for the good of Hexen. She wasn't doing it for her sister, but for Shion and Erika. But, from what Erika had been saying, she wasn't sure she even wanted to be in Hexen anymore. Her music tastes were changing. And Shion? Well, I knew some things about Shion that nobody knew.

The new guy we'd gotten to play bass, Masaki? He just didn't vibe with us. Where did they find him? He wanted to play metal, that's what he was good at. It didn't fit with us. But, Yami was at it again. Trying to drive us into a direction that didn't go well with Sana's voice. Why didn't he literally quit it and join a legitimate rock band? Leave us alone to do our jazz fusions and old world stuff, and forget about us? It's what Sana and I liked best. Sometimes, it felt like we were strung up like marionettes, doing Yami's will. I wanted him to finally cut the strings and say "enough".

I wanted to introduce them to my friends. There were a few clubs that were friendly to me. I'd played in those places years ago, and the owners had been impressed. Said I could play there whenever I wanted. What if I brought them this new band? How successful would we be? They'd be enchanted by Sana's voice. It'd be a draw. Annie was better on bass than guitar anyway, in my controversial opinion. And with Shion's willingness to learn anything and everything, it'd be perfect.

Before I knew it, the song was over and my fingers in their physical memories had finished with it. I'd been in space, shocked dumb when I realized they stopped playing on their own. Shion was staring at me expectantly.

"So, Nobu, what do you think?" She asked. Obviously, she'd spoken to me and I hadn't heard.

"Huh?"

"Where are you?" She made to throw her drum stick at me, and I ducked, laughing. She started laughing, too. "What do you want to play?"

I observed the room, seeing Sana staring at me with his little smile. Annie was next to him on his right, trying to sneakily scoot closer, focused on this task.

"Let's play 'J'attendrai'," I announced, and as half the French word left my mouth Annie and Shion made loud groanings. Annie made to fall out of her chair in a big show, acting like she didn't want to. But, Sana's face lit up. I knew it was one of his absolute favorites.

"Oh, we've only played this about a billion times. What's one more?" Shion said in fake sarcasm.

I decided to take it a bit further. "These old songs are good to practice. They example the types of timings that Sana and I are trying to incorporate into our new songs. Keeping time with other instruments rather than drums, an excellent example of-"

"We know," Shion sighed. "You don't have to explain it again. All that song writing mumbo jumbo. I can't keep up. Let's just play."

So, we started to. My guitar played the opening, and Annie's bass came in. Shion kept a simple pacing, letting Annie shine. All the while, Sana's innocent sounding tone took me back to a different time. Capturing the moment, and if I closed my eyes, we could be in the 1940's. We could be together, playing this old song without any cares except for the news all around us about the world. My daydreaming was threatening to make me lose time again, but my steady fingers would always keep me in pace.

It was past midnight, and I was watching Shion kick a piece of rock down the road as we walked home together. My hands were shoved into my pockets, trying to keep warm. My thoughts were with our practice, watching a memory of Sana playing jazz violin as Yami waited impatiently at the drums. He'd been trying to interrupt, trying to ask Sana to be serious, we should be practicing this and that, getting Masaki used to the sort of things we'd be playing at our next few lives. Sana had full on ignored him, lost in the music. I knew this was the kind of music he really loved. You don't get that into it unless you're in love, moving like a dance, a romancing of the notes like courting. He'd been playing Django Reinhardt's "Minor Blues." I'd jumped in, and we played together, loving our craft. It was a taste of rebellion. We'd launched into his "All the Things You Are" after that, not even pausing for breath, and Yami yelled over us, saying we were wasting time. But, I checked with everyone else, looking at them in turn. Masaki in particular seemed fascinated, his eyes wide and obviously taking it all in. He'd seemed impressed. Maybe he wasn't all bad.

We'd gotten a tongue lashing after that. Yami was the one wasting time, arguing as a one man conversation that we had to play the set list and show Masaki what we were doing. He wasted ten minutes. By the end, Sana's trademark stubbornness, something else I love about him, showed up like a door slam and he brought his violin up again and started to play Django Reinhardt's "When Day is Done" while rolling his eyes with his lips pressed together firm. I'd joined in again and Yami threw his sticks across the room in a rage.

"Can't we do something like that?" Masaki had asked, solidifying my thinking he was alright, after Yami had marched off to the bathroom in a vain attempt to cool down. "I mean, can't we really? You play it so beautifully." He was talking to Sana. "I know there's got to be bass in there. I play stand up bass, too." That had been a surprise. What else did he know? Maybe there was more to him than met the eye, and I'd been unfair. It was then that I chose to tell him that we'd been working on things inspired by songs such as these, and he'd gotten beyond enthusiastic.

As I thought about this, I didn't notice Shion stop walking. I'd missed what she'd said again. The rock she'd been kicking flew past my arm.

"You're not listening," she sighed. She wasn't unhappy, though. "Where are you, lately? You miss half the things I say."

"What did you ask?" Oops.

"I asked if you wanted to stop and smoke."

"Oh, yeah. Sure." I patted my pockets and found my cigarettes. I took out two and handed her one. At the same time, she got her matchbook out of her purse and lit one. Like clockwork, perfectly in time, she lit them just as mine went into my mouth and I handed her the other one.

Like this, we walked together slowly. The only lights were from windows, our cigarettes, and the stars. As we drifted along, I felt her take my hand casually. She didn't say anything, but it meant she was lonely. Maybe I really had been a dick and not been giving her enough of my time lately. Not thinking about her enough.

"Well, where are you lately? You didn't answer my question."

I stopped, realizing I was going into my thoughts again. I took my cigarette out of my mouth and stared at her in the semi-darkness. Her hand went through her short hair, something she only did when frustrated. So, I'd made her frustrated.

"Sorry. I've been thinking about Sana a lot. He's been sick."

"Tell me something I don't know." She wasn't being insensitive. She could be hard to read sometimes, and this was one of those times.

"Well." I squeezed her hand, and it was hard to tell in the low light, but her eyes turned soft. "We don't know what it is this time. We're waiting. It could be anything. He's getting worse, and we're trying to ignore it, but..."

She gave a really big sigh, and she flicked her cigarette to the ground. She stamped it out, and I did the same. Her arms outstretched, and she was hugging me. A tight embrace.

"Why didn't you just tell me that? So I didn't have to be mad at you?"

"I don't know."

She sighed again. "You can be so loud, so when you're quiet, it's deafening. Did you know that?"

"Oh. It's like an elephant in the forest, when it-" My voice went light, trying to smile.

"No jokes. Be serious. It's okay to be serious."

"Okay." I paused, and the smile on my lips was back. "...Mom..." I mumbled in her ear.

She gave a really big sucking of her teeth. She shoved me away, her frustrated look back. She wasn't really mad at me, though. "Give me another cigarette. I swear, you're hard to deal with."

"That's what my grandma tells me." I gave her a chuckle, and went into my pocket again.

"Your grandma must have nerves of steel."

I placed the cigarette into her waiting hand. She took it and lit it without another word. Before I could shove my hands back into my pockets for the warmth, she grabbed my hand aggressively and intertwined our fingers. She strode off, and all I could do was match her pace, the timing of the clicking of her shoes.