[Xunsi]May Be a Dream

Mr. Ikari Shinji is almost helpless with piano playing.

"I can't play it well..." 35-year-old Mr. Ikari began to play with all his concentration, while muttering to himself.

Employers in the house are commonplace, but just because they are used to it, they have to pay attention to the employer's movements outside the door.

This torturous and slightly neurotic exercise increased in frequency as the concert approached, and the temperament of their big employer became more and more unpredictable.

Obviously, when he met the piano, his usually gentle temperament suddenly became terrifying like a huge wave. Afterwards, the husband himself was very embarrassed. Why did he accept the invitation to the piano concert again?

No matter how hard they inquire, they can't get any results, let alone hear any key information from the silent employer.

His white and slender hands danced on the black and white keys, and stepped on the pedals skillfully under his feet.

The timbre of each note and the strength of the key are carefully selected and accurate.

How pleasing to the eye, whether it's the song or the man playing it, what's not to like?

"What's the difference between this kind of thing and the one produced by a machine?!" The slender and gloomy employer seemed to be answering the doubts in people's minds with an angry shout. His ten fingers suddenly stiffened and he hammered the keys bitterly. There was an eerie loud noise in the silent practice room.

The hands that should be gentle with the instrument are abusing the valuable grand piano at this time. The cover was lifted and then smashed down with force. The gentleman's expression was distorted, and he stared angrily at the body of the piano that exudes soft light due to the long years Hysteria: "Waste! Waste!"

The rest of the servants couldn't help but also gathered outside the door.

He must have noticed their sight, Mr. sat down on the piano chair dejectedly, his pale cheeks were flushed, his thin back was trembling unceasingly, his thin lips parted and closed, hesitant to speak.

Mr. Ikari's "very pitiful" attitude made them unable to say anything about the employer's atrocities.

The pianos in the whole house were subjected to such atrocities, but the piano in the corner of the practice room covered with a white cloth and dusty was spared, and the husband always invited a tuner to do maintenance work, which meant that they I don't understand, I only know that this pitifully dilapidated piano was used by my husband in junior high school.

Served Mr. Ikari a glass of water to calm him down, but was stopped by other servants.

They stared at Mr. again, and time froze.

After an unknown period of time, the husband's wide-open, motionless eyes seemed to be red. He blinked, and slowly got up and walked towards the old piano in the corner.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He stroked the old piano through the white cloth, like comforting a wounded lover.

It seems that I don't completely hate the piano. Where did Mr. get the mixed feelings of loving and hating the piano?

At some point, the sky outside the window became dark, and the movement in the room could not be seen clearly.

"I'm sorry, Kaoru..." The voice was inaudible, like weeping.

Suddenly a strong wind pushed open the window, raised the white curtains, and dispersed the faint sound.

Whose name is that? Maybe it's someone who Mr. Ikari loves and hates like a piano.