002 ♫ Music
[There is a heavy sigh before Zoisite lifts his hands to the piano (he's seated at one, in a nondescript room with billowing curtains at its windows). He closes his eyes.
Just as he's done every day, almost every moment, since arriving in this configuration of worlds, he reaches out through his music. He reaches through each communicator that the song passes through, feeling his way for Endymion's presence.
The piece is constant, steady, flying through its higher notes with amazing runs and arpeggios; to the listeners, it's likely to bring nostalgia and thoughts of times long past - childhood moments half forgotten, old friends and lovers. Zoisite opens his eyes.
Again, there is nothing. He cannot sense Endymion. The music shifts its mood, seamlessly. He speaks without interrupting the deft, sure movement of his hands, almost to himself.]
My music should also be able to repel these Heartless.
Just as he's done every day, almost every moment, since arriving in this configuration of worlds, he reaches out through his music. He reaches through each communicator that the song passes through, feeling his way for Endymion's presence.
The piece is constant, steady, flying through its higher notes with amazing runs and arpeggios; to the listeners, it's likely to bring nostalgia and thoughts of times long past - childhood moments half forgotten, old friends and lovers. Zoisite opens his eyes.
Again, there is nothing. He cannot sense Endymion. The music shifts its mood, seamlessly. He speaks without interrupting the deft, sure movement of his hands, almost to himself.]
My music should also be able to repel these Heartless.