Perekoo One-shots

Heartbroken Melody of Love

A melody filled the air.

This has been going on for a few months now.

Alma always, even as a child, liked composing little melodies on the piano. Nothing intricate. The many times Isabel complimented Alma's creativity and skill, she'd always brush it off with words of modesty. 'I am no great artist,' she'd say with a shy smile. But as Isabel quickly learned, sometimes the simplest of her friend's melodies held the most emotion. The emotions in question were often joyous, mindful, and bursting with light.

The first time the peregrine brought up the idea of buying a new piano for the school, Isabel was surprised; neither of them had thought of it before. When Alma laid her eyes upon their new magnificent instrument, her eyes lit up with the kind of childhood nostalgia that one might hold for an old friend, and she eagerly ran her fingers over its keys. The smile Isabel witnessed rising on the ravenette's face became her new favourite memory.

For the next few months, the academy turned into a concert hall. There were times Isabel was sketching in the garden or sewing in her room when suddenly a breathtaking collection of tones filled the air. The cuckoo often stopped what she had been doing and let herself get lost in the tunes.

But at some point, the endless string of notes began bringing feelings of melancholy, only mirroring the ravenette’s moods. Alma smiled less—avoided Isabel more. Besides the moments when her public presence was necessary, she'd shut herself in the music room, sometimes for hours weaving downhearted melodies.

When did it all change?

And then Isabel began to notice that the standoffishness didn't apply to others as it did to her. Whenever the kids or the occasional ymbryne staff needed something, she'd always hear them out with a smile. But whenever Isabel wanted to spend time with her, go for a walk, or read in the library with her, Alma made up some excuse and disappeared again, building a wall around herself.

Was it her fault, then? The peregrine's downheartedness? Or was she angry? How could she have hurt the woman she loved and not even know how?

Isabel asked many times, but her friend only sheepishly smiled. 'You didn't do anything wrong. Just give me time, please?’

The cuckoo tried respecting her wishes, but birds, how it hurt. After all, being ignored by your best friend, your confidante, your partner-in-crime, the love of your life, isn't easy.

She spent numerous nights unsuccessfully searching for that one point where things could have taken the wrong turm.

One day, when Isabel walked down the corridor again, she passed the music room as she did every so often to check on her distant companion whenever the piano sang its lonely song.

Things had to change. The ymbryne stopped in her tracks and quietly returned a few steps to stand in front of the adamant door. She listened for a while. Time stood still for a moment.

The only thought filling her mind was, 'I need to know'. The weeks she's waited have only brought more despair. The pain she was used to—how could one not be after all they've been through—but the endless feeling of deep guilt she couldn't deal with anymore. She at least needed to know why.

The door, despite being regularly oiled, creaked as she opened it.

The tune gradually faded into silence.

“Is there anything you need, Isabel?” asked Alma, still facing the elegant instrument. Her voice was raspy, emotionless.

The sun that shone through one of the room’s tall windows irradiated her raven hair, creating a halo around her head. Together with the lacy white dress she wore, she looked like a sad angel.