prelude of the night

"Aoyagi Touya! What was that!?"

He stares up at his father fearfully. "I-I'm sorry! It won't-It won't happen again!"

"It better not. Read the sheet music more carefully next time. No deviations whatsoever!" His father's voice carries a subtle threatening tone as he continues, "If you play like that at the competition, you can forget about being allowed outside the house until you completely master it. No mistakes, whatsoever. You're already nine years old, Touya. I expect the best from you. Remember that."

"Y-yes, father!"

And then few hours later, after Touya's moves on from the first piece, it happens.

He plays a single misplaced note and it pierces through the air. His fingers involuntarily freeze on the keyboard, and he waits with a baited breath as his father's face tightens and he draws nearer.

There is no use continuing to play the piece. There is no chance that his father hadn't heard.

Before Touya can react, his father, in one swift motion, slams the piano lid shut, crushing his fingers.

Touya cries out at the sudden pain surging through his hand, and clutches his fingers close to his chest.

He bites his lip and tries to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill over, but his vision is starting to become blurry, and his cheeks feel wet.

His father leaves the practice room without a single comment.

Is it bad that Touya is happier when he isn't around, breathing down his neck?

OR

Touya tries to play the piano again. It doesn't go as smoothly as he imagines.