Regrets Played on Twilight Keys

Music and love: they are sung about in songs, and they are little interludes in everyday life. At dusk, the piano keys lament what might have been.

Sunlight sifted through the plane-tree leaves and danced across the keys. Shen Jun's index finger hovered above middle C, frozen in place. The violin drifting in and out from the classroom next door, its final note trembling with vibrato, reminded him of last night's rain pattering against the window.

The practice room door creaked open.

"I didn't know anyone else was here." A voice as clear as a spring flowed in, and Shen Jun's neck stiffened at once. Through the dusty lid of the upright piano, he saw a white hem sweep across the cracked parquet floor. Lin You stood backlit, her ponytail loosened by the draft until it spread like seaweed, willow catkins from outside caught in the ends of her hair.

This was their third encounter. The first had been at the welcome gala, where Lin You, the host, looked like a proud swan beneath the spotlight. The second was at the library, when the glimpse of her waist as she reached for a book had made Shen Jun knock over an ink bottle. Now her violin rested beneath her chin, rosin dust floating in the morning light.

"Shall we play together?" Lin You pointed her bow toward the piano. Shen Jun caught a faint scent of lily of the valley. His Adam's apple bobbed, and the chord his fingers pressed betrayed his racing heart. As the melody of Liebesleid flowed between the two instruments, he suddenly noticed the girl reflected in the piano's glossy surface. The tips of her ears were so red they looked ready to drip blood.