Music Flows Through Him

Chapter 3: Music from the Heart (And a Letter from my Mother)

I looked down at the envelope in my hands.

I felt numb.

A little note was written on the front in my mother's elegant cursive, her writing twisting neatly across the surface.

"Open this now, darling," it read. "Read this during the performance."

So I began to open the letter.

My movements were short and choppy as I reached to pull off the wax seal, my shaking hands unable to get a proper hold on it. The auditorium was silent, the performers waiting for me to get to the letter, the rest of the audience peering over curiously at the blond haired teenager in the front row.

Everyone was looking at me.

I continued to struggle with the envelope, my hands shaking further under the pressure of so many eyes. It just wouldn't open, and I was beginning to panic.

But then, suddenly, a gentle pair of hands reached over and took the letter from my grasp.

Bakugou?

The explosive blond held the envelope softly, handling it more carefully than anything I had ever seen. Gently he pulled off the wax seal, taking his time to not rip the paper. Once he was finished he wordlessly handed the envelope back to me.

I didn't have the time to thank him, as I had already pulled the letter from its case. My hands working on autopilot, I carefully unfolded the note.

With that, I began to read.

And as I began to read, the music began to play.

"Dear Denki,"  it started.

The soft hum of the music began to fill the theatre.

"My darling, I remember the day you were born so clearly. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was so scared in the hospital by myself, terrified by the idea of having the child of a man I no longer knew. But, when I first saw you after you were born, I knew immediately that you were mine, and you were the best thing I was ever going to create."

"You, my little masterpiece, were going to be more important than anything in my life, more important than anything money could buy or than any music I could create. I loved you the second I saw you, the second they placed your fragile form into my arms. We were both crying, both holding onto each other so tightly, and I knew at that moment that you were more than just my child. You are the reason it was all worth it, my dear, and when I peered into your honey-gold eyes I promised that I would try and give the world to you, even if the odds were against us."

"And I tried, that is, to give the world to you, to give more than the world to you, and while at some points it was a struggle, I wouldn't trade the time I spent with you for the world. I would do it all again, sacrifice the same things, suffer the same heartbreak, do anything it might take just to hold onto those precious memories I hold so dear. Those memories I keep reside deep within my heart, and I will treasure them more than any item I could ever hope to own. You are everything to me, my darling, my very reason for existence, and I will always love you."

My breath was caught in my much too tight throat.

"It is because of you, my angel, that I will have no regrets when I die."

These were the words of my mother, the person I loved more than the entire world, the words of the one person I would give anything to see again just one last time.

But she was gone.

She loved me so much.

The music she wrote flowed around me as I read, swirling softly, crashing overtop like the small, grey waves of dusk at the beach we visited in my childhood. She loved that beach, my mother did. Her father had taken her there when she was little, before he passed away. I never got the chance to meet him, but if I had to guess I'd say he was a man much like the gentle ocean breeze. She told me how they would collect seashells together, putting them in little glass jars and placing them on the windowsill of his little blue cottage that opened up to the sea.