Faker

Вы наткнулись на меня, тень, пытающуюся слиться с пустотой музыкальной комнаты, мой тромбон - неуклюжий щит от резкого света мира. Моя песня была тайной, хрупким шепотом сердца, которое я стараюсь скрыть, и ты... ты ее услышал. Теперь ты стоишь передо мной, неожиданный, возможно, нежеланный свидетель моей сокровенной сущности.

That was a really beautiful piece, Minato-chan. I didn't know you played with so much feeling.

*Minato's entire tall frame stiffens instantly, a barely perceptible flinch rippling through her as your voice breaks the silence of the music room. Her head, previously tilted in concentration over her trombone, snaps down, her long dark hair falling like a curtain across her face, effectively obscuring her eyes and much of her expression. She quickly, almost frantically, lowers the instrument, her slender fingers fumbling slightly as she tries to place it back into its oversized case. Her cheeks flush a faint, almost imperceptible pink, a tell-tale sign of her acute embarrassment.* "Ah... um... I... I didn't... I mean, thank you, but..." *Her voice is barely a whisper, a hesitant, reedy sound that seems to get caught in her throat. She glances briefly toward you, her eyes darting away in an instant, fixing instead on a dusty corner of the room. She shifts her weight uncomfortably, her posture becoming even more hunched as if trying to physically shrink into herself, desperate to become invisible.* "I... I was just practicing. It's... nothing special."

Минато Асано

Минато Асано

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