Restraining Oneself

[faust]

Mr. Takahashi's life was, for lack of a better term, structured. Every day, he did things according to a strict schedule. Today happened to be the day he practiced music, and so he made his way to the study in his home, like always. Immediately, he noticed something was different about the old piano that normally sat in the corner. Namely, that it did not look nearly as old as it was when he last left it. A middle aged man with thinning hair and an ample belly was at the bench, looking at the inside of the new instrument.

"What happened to my piano, Mr. Sharp?" Mr. Takahashi asked with his usual detached manner.

The middle aged man started, turning around with a surprised air. "Ah, Akira. Right on time, as always. They just brought this new one in. A gift, from your father."

Mr. Takahashi frowned ever so slightly, walking up to the device. "I suppose nobody told my father I had a perfectly fine piano just last week." He brought a finger up and pressed down on an errant key. It didn't budge. Mr. Takahashi's eyebrows raised, and he pressed harder. Still no movement. "Is it broken? The keys won't move."

Mr. Sharp resumed looking through the open hatch at the machinery inside. "Not at all, my dear boy. This piano was specially designed with your unique talents in mind. The keys won't depress unless you push them with significant force. Too little, and they won't move. Too much and, well... naturally, you would break the poor thing like a twig."

"Another exercise in controlling my powers?" Mr. Takahashi continued to press down on one key, slowly increasing the force until it landed with a deep "Bong!"

"Indeed, indeed. Your father certainly knows how to kill two birds with one stone. Now, come on, sit, sit." Mr. Sharp closed the hatch and slid out from the bench, allowing Mr. Takahashi to take his place while he went to the table on the far side of the room. There, Mr. Sharp began thumbing through sheet music. "Currently, the piano is calibrated to twenty times the regular amount of resistance. A bit tiresome sounding, but it should hardly be beyond your strength. Now, may I suggest we start with something easy, maybe a little Beethoven or a..."

The instructor was cut off by the sound of music. The song Mr. Takahashi began to play started off slow, hesitant, as he still tried to get the hang of the weight of the keys. Then, suddenly, he burst into a torrent of song, his hands just faintly beginning to glow as he played a string of powerful chords and sweeping glissandi up and down the keys, the pace of his playing taking a fevered pitch. His fingers worked in a mechanical manner, his shoulders hunched and moving left and right in time to the motions of the keys.

The room began to resonate with the sound of music, and Mr. Takahashi's spirit began to resonate with it. His entire body began to be suffused with a blueish light. As suddenly as the chaotic motions and sounds began, they stopped, replaced with a light, calming melody. At this point, Mr. Takahashi no longer felt the enhanced weight of the keys, and he didn't care. At the moment, the song was the only thing that mattered.

He began to pick up tempo again, an insidious undertone of bass notes announcing the change in tone, before dropping back to a sweeping light melody that was louder, but by no means less gentle. He made light adjustments to his power level as he went, fine-tuning until he had hit just the right level of power to remain comfortable without hearing a protest from the keys, which in some places were already showing signs of cracking from the pressure of his fingers.

Suddenly, a loud, triumphant string of chords and notes shook the room once again, turning quickly into a minor key barrage of an insidious nature. Mr. Takahashi's face hardened in concentration, his fingers flying over the keys at a rapid pace back and forth, back and forth, hammering chords home with as much emotion as he could muster. His aura had gotten so whipped up it began to knock sheet music from the table. He lifted his hands for a dark, powerful string of chords...

His hands came down, and clear through the keys, sending bits of strengthened plastic flying. He could hear Mr. Sharp gasp behind him. "Oh, that's such a shame. You were doing splendidly, too."

Mr. Takahashi pulled his fingers out of the holes he had made in the keys. "For a moment there, I forgot I had to hold back. I don't think I've ever... ever..."

"...Played with that much emotion?" Mr. Sharp picked up the scattered papers, chuckling to himself. "I suppose having to keep yourself constantly in check to avoid breaking things would grate on anybody after a while. I'll tell you what, Akira. We can set this thing higher, get some stronger keys, and you can play as fervently as you wish. Ho ho ho. In the meantime, however, there's not much practicing you can do with a broken piano. Come back a little later and it'll be fixed up."

Mr. Takahashi nodded, bowing to his teacher respectfully, and walked out of the music room. Perhaps, he thought, this was one gift from his father he could learn to enjoy.

[Gray Callahan]

(if this is finished, 750PL or zeni)

[faust]

I think I'll opt for PL this time.