Voice

Chapter Second: A Persona

     Matsuda surveyed the empty, moonlit scape around him, then sighed.

     "I need to go now,"

     "Why?" she asked. "Master, please give me words!"

     Again, Matsuda saw something, but he shook it off. Her voice was very monotone, despite the urgency he imagined. He hung the strap of his duffel bag over his shoulder. After taking a few steps, he turned his head and imagined making eye-contact with someone in the empty space between him and the tree.

     "I will bring you words tomorrow."

     "'Tomorrow?'"

     "Yeah." he confirmed, trying to sound relaxed.

     Honestly, Matsuda didn't know how he was keeping it together now. Somehow he just felt this was supposed to happen. Sure, at first he was a little surprised but- this honestly terrified him. How could something so bizarre be this easy to accept? Matsuda had to force himself into continuing his walk home. He glanced behind upon reaching the bottom of the hill. He honestly felt guilty leaving The Voice, now called "Yuzuki," far behind.

     He went around the house to the front door, casually opening it. It was dark outside, but hardly late. He didn't bother saying anything as he took off his shoes. Matsuda then went to the kitchen and popped two slices of bread in the toaster. In a matter of minutes there was a "pop!" Toast now poked from the toaster. He didn't bother with buttering them, but instead just set them on a plate. Then there was a voice behind him.

     "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, MATSUDAPPOIYO?!"

     He fought a grimace as he turned, feigning indifference. His grandma stood at the kitchen entry red faced. She thrust her cellphone onto the palm of her opposite hand.

     "Why didn't you answer your phone?! I called you sooo many times!"

     "I...." He forced a shrug. "I fell asleep."

     She did a double take. "'Fell asleep?' Matsuda..." Her eyes softened. "Are you feeling okay?"

     "Yeah,"

     "Was it that voice, again?"

     He diverted his eyes. "Um, yeah..."

     "I think we should let your father know about this, Sweetie... You may need a doct-"

     "Grandma, I'm fine." Matsuda cut flatly. "That man doesn't need to know," he then grabbed his plate of toast and went upstairs to his bedroom.

     Matsuda plopped his duffel bag on the floor then sat on the foot of his bed as he munched his toast. He reached down and retrieved his notebook and a black pen. Time to think. Lyrics, lyrics, lyrics... He thought. After a few more bites of toast, Matsuda frowned. Yuzuki... He easily imagined the blank faced girl. He flipped a page to find his concept art of her. He studied it for a bit, then found a clean page and readied the pen. A piece of toast now stuck out of his mouth. He wrote down her name's kanji. Yuzuki... He thought as as he wrote.

     Some lyrics came to mind but- Will they work?  Words always came easy for him, but not a melody. Would "Yuzuki" need one from him, with his lyrics?
He tapped his pen on the paper. Purple... He thought. A voice that connects people... He began sketching with his pen. The moon... His mind continued to dwell on The Voice, or rather his image of her.

     Her voice creates a connection, so that we all may relate... He then grinned, thinking of his design for her hair. I guess my mother's version of the Moon Rabbit folktale inspired it a little. Matsuda added colors matching that in his concept art. He chuckled. She's centuries old. I don't understand why she'd wear pink, He laughed at the fact he was denying his own involvement with her color scheme. His eyes then narrowed as he resumed concentration. He drew the strokes making her hair, with a purple pen.