BALLAD ; dr stone

01 - stone

As Y/n gulped air into his lungs, he couldn't help but feel as if it wasn't reaching its destination. He stared out into the inky blackness that the seating of the auditorium became, eyes dull and unfocused. The sweat inducing stage lights were a small, ragged raft in the obsidian black depths of the deep sea with no stars to guide him home. Home; he wanted to go home.

His viola burned in his hand, the weight on his collar bone like no other he's ever felt as he finally started the process of coming off auto pilot. He bowed, 1..2..3, stood, turned, and walked to the right of the stage that was finally illuminated enough for him to see what direction the exit was.

The teens brain was like static as he made his way off stage, but when he was halfway to that curtain his knees wobbled as the thoughts came rushing in like a tsunami.

The applause from the blackness and the white noise of an unsettled ocean sounded eerily similar to each other to Y/n in that moment. Should he not be happy they were applauding? He was good, They liked it. He played well; he played to their standards. But something about it was different, their applause was lukewarm, a light misting as opposed to the loud roar it used to be. Had he done something wrong? Messed up a note? Missed a cue from the pianist?

He left the building as soon as he could, finally in the cold night air of the European city he was in for this competition. His viola was heavy as bricks as it bumped against his leg.

He looked up at the light-polluted sky, wishing more than the four stars he could see would show themselves.

When had he started to hate music? He felt his nose begin to burn when he fought himself wondering. When did he start hating something that he used to love so much that he decided to make it his entire livelihood? When did it stop being about how the music made him feel and start being about what others thought of it?

He knows why the applause was mild, why it was purely for his technical skill and nothing else. He hadn't felt a thing on that stage, he played that piece emotionally vapidly today. The audience must have picked up on his apathy and he cursed himself for worrying about the judges having noticed too.

His music felt soulless; he felt soulless.

Tears pricked his eyes and he but his lip to keep any sobs down. He just wanted to go home.

So, he went home.

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"Senku~," Y/n spoke through a smile. "C'mon, talk to me or something."

"No, we're in the science lab." The green and white haired teen replied, pouring on beaker of liquid into another. "You're not even supposed to be in campus anyways, you don't go here. I'll report you if you don't let me work."

Y/n huffed lightly. "But I wanted to see you, we haven't hung out since I left on my trip..." He leaned back against the table as he sat on one of those science class stools.

"I saw you yesterday right after you landed. You slept over. Go home, do your schoolwork, homeschool doesn't mean you don't have school."

Y/n almost felt like leaving before he saw a twitch at the corners of the other teens mouth.

"You're just fucking with me." He smirked lightly. "You want me here."

"Yes, I'm fucking with you. But seriously, let me work."

Y/n was planning on it, not a good idea to mess with the guy who knew a little too much about dangerous chemicals and how they're made.

They were getting side eyes from the other people in Senkus science club anyways.