Jingle. Jingle.
When they pushed open the old door and stepped into the antique shop, the bell hanging at the entrance swung with a cheerful sound. That clear ringing was the signal that told the owner a customer had arrived.
Dason gazed for a long while at the golden bell with its clear tone, and soon lifted his eyes and looked around the inside of the shop.
A heavy scent of wood wafted thickly from every part of the space.
"Hmm......."
On the display shelves lined up to the left and right, antique objects sat carefully in their places.
An ornate jewelry box, silver goblets of intricate workmanship, even silk cloth embroidered with gold thread. It felt less like a collection of antiques than like a royal treasure vault.
Off to one side, old books and parchment scrolls were piled high as well. Their covers, thick with dust, seemed to speak of the depth of the years.
'It's fancier than I expected?'
Since it was called an antique shop, he had assumed it would deal only in worn-out things. But there were expensive items inside the shop, too.
"For your reference, the furniture in your room was made here as well, Young Master. The shop sells antiques, but it also serves to supply noble houses with a variety of goods."
Kemen came up beside Dason and quietly filled him in. His voice carried pride in this shop.
"And in the past, Young Master, you cursed this shop as a 'rotten dump'. I hear you even browbeat the owner to pay you tribute since you were the Count's son, but when he refused, you went on a rampage on the spot, cursing as you went."
"......Right. Thanks to you, I remember it clearly."
Dason felt a scene from the past replay vividly in his head.
The sight of himself coming to the antique shop, smashing expensive things at random and making a violent scene flashed before his eyes.
At that memory, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead without his realizing it.
Tap-tap...... tap.
Right then, an old man appeared from deep in the back of the shop. His beard gone white, he approached at an unhurried pace and greeted his customers.
"Ah, Kemen. It has been a while since you last came."
With an affectionate smile, the old man gave Kemen a glad greeting.
Judging by the warm look that passed between them, they seemed to see each other fairly often.
But the moment he noticed Dason standing beside him, every trace of the smile vanished from the old man's face as if washed away.
"......Is that not Young Master Dason?"
The old man tried to keep up a very polite manner of speech, but wariness showed openly in the eyes he turned on Dason.
"Welcome to the shop."
He was observing the courtesies, of course, but behind them lurked an instinctive aversion.
"Mr. Alphen. I know very well what worries you. But I am with him, so you may rest easy today."
Just then, Kemen called the owner by name and reassured him.
"And if the Young Master should damage any goods, I will purchase them at full price, on the Count's name."
"......Is that true?"
"Yes. We purchased the broken goods last time as well. You will be compensated just as you were then."
Alphen gave a small nod at Kemen's words. Since he was being promised money, that was at least some relief.
"Alphen."
Just then, Dason spoke.
"Is there an old piano here? I'd like to have a look at a piano."
"A piano?"
"Yeah. An old one, if possible."
"Why that, all of a sudden......?"
"If you have one, just show me to it."
Alphen frowned at Dason's words. What on earth did he mean to do with an old piano? That was what he wanted to ask.
"Understood."
But in the end, Alphen did not ask. Even if the old piano got smashed to pieces, the Count would compensate him, after all.
"Please follow me."
Tap!
His answer given, Alphen went into the back of the shop. Dason fell in behind him.
"Young Master. I will go with you."
And Kemen, keeping close at Dason's right, headed for the space where the old piano was.
***
The back of the antique shop, which they entered following Alphen's lead, held a separate space. It seemed to be a place for storing the relatively large items apart.
"The one sitting there in the middle is the oldest piano in our shop."
'There really is a piano?'
His eyes went round. Astonishingly, the instrument before him had almost exactly the same structure as the ones he had seen in 21st-century South Korea.
A wooden body painted black, ivory-colored keys, even pedals. It was so similar that he could have mistaken it for a modern piano.
'It's old, all right.'
Looking at the piano that had endured so many long years, Dason could not shake his doubts. Its exterior looked plausible enough, but whether its insides were in good enough condition to be played was an open question.
Tap...... tap...... tap.
Dason made his way toward the old piano with careful steps. That was because, until he pressed the keys himself, he could not be sure of the instrument's condition.
Swish.
When he sat on the piano bench, thick with dust, the old wood creaked. Dason took a deep breath and placed his hands on the keys.
"Hoo......."
Faint sunlight poured in through the window and melted over the piano's surface. The antique instrument, stained with the grime of long years, looked as if it were waiting for a player's touch.
"Young Master?"
"Surely not......?"
Watching him, Kemen and Alphen felt their eyes widen in surprise. The Young Master who had never laid a finger on an instrument was about to play one himself. And on a worn-out old piano, at that.
Duuum.......
It was then.
Dason's fingers began to move over the keys as if swimming. Carefully, and as naturally as if meeting an old friend, his fingers roamed the keyboard.
Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-sharp minor, Op. 27 No. 2, 'Moonlight'. Of all its parts, it was the introduction of the 1st movement, where the performer's emotion was a crucial factor, that flowed out.
"......."
"......."
Kemen and Alphen were watching the sight with bated breath. Dason, who had lived with a wall between himself and music, was striking the keys of a piano with his own hands; they could not help but be shocked.
But it was not only the sight of Dason that had seized their attention.
'What is this music?'
'I have never heard this piece before. What on earth is this......?'
The unfamiliar melody shook both men's hearts. The weighty low and middle notes, the slow tempo, and the plaintive emotion held within them enfolded the listeners like a still lake.
"......."
On the face of Dason, absorbed in his playing, was an earnestness he would not have traded for anything in the world. He looked as if he were pouring his entire soul into the instrument.
Tiing.......
There was no sheet music, but that did not matter. The sheet music for Moonlight was already stored in Dason's head.
The titles of youngest maestro and musical genius had by no means been given lightly.
Ting...... ti-ting.......
The 1st movement of Moonlight, which had drifted from the radio while he lay in his hospital room. This piece had felt like an expression of himself, turning because of lung cancer from a butterfly into a stuffed and mounted moth.
Drip...... drip.......
Clear tears ran down from the corners of his eyes. The despairing memories of lying helpless on a sickbed, waiting for death. Each and every note spoke for the pain of days gone by.
Dong!
But there was life in the movement of Dason's hands as they struck the keys. The joy of being able to play an instrument again, the elation of being able to communicate with the world through music. The piano took in his passion whole and rang out.
Dum...... duuum.
The performance grew steadily deeper and richer. Dason, too, was steadily becoming one with the piano. The beautiful melody coming from the old piano filled the ears of all three.
There was no dazzling technique and no expensive piano. But there was emotion in Dason's playing. The sorrow he had felt in days gone by found unreserved expression through Moonlight.
"Aah......."
At that moment, a small sigh escaped Kemen's lips. Though he was hearing the piece called Moonlight for the first time, he could tell from Dason's expression and the flow of the music.
'Young Master.......'
That inside Dason there had been a knot of pent-up sorrow so large that Kemen could not presume to fathom it.
Dum...... dum...... dum...... dum.......
The end of the performance was approaching.
As the tempo grew slower and slower, the strength in the fingers resting on the keys weakened, as if his soul were slipping away.
Dun...... duun...... dun.
And the moment he pressed the last note, the strings of the old piano stopped trembling.
"Haa......."
It was the moment the performance of the 1st movement of Moonlight came to its end.
Swish.
After the last note of the performance had died away, Dason rose from the bench and turned his eyes to the two men.
"......."
"......."
"......."
Nothing filled the space but wordless silence. An awkward hush seemed to press down on the antique shop.
It was then.
Clap. Clap...... clap.
Alphen was the first to begin clapping.
Slowly, as if keeping time.
Clap-clap...... clap-clap-clap!
At that, Kemen too brought his palms together without hesitation.
That was because, though countless questions surged up inside him, he had judged that paying respect to Dason's performance came first for now.
And so the two men expressed with their applause the emotion pouring through them.
As if they could not contain their admiration for the sorrow, hope, and beauty held in the melody that had just rung out.
Dason gave an awkward smile at the praise directed at him.
Grin.
It felt like having his talent acknowledged for the first time in an unfamiliar world.
Nodding slowly, he conveyed his thanks to his audience of two. Like a performer on a stage.
Ding-a-ling!
[A resonance has reached Kemen's heart.]
[Alphen admires the performance.]
[Reward: The old piano's change is triggered.]
Flaaaash!
At that moment, golden light flowed from the piano.
[Additional Reward: A contract with the Spirit of Music becomes possible.]
But then one more thing was added to that.