Chapter Text
"Let's try again now, okay? One, two, three..."
Mari's hands splayed across the keys with purpose, playing out the introductory notes to their duet for what was probably the fifteenth time that day. Actually, it was precisely the fifteenth, she'd been keeping count. Not because that fact was actually meaningful – in fact, she'd already resolved not to tell Sunny exactly how many tries it took for them to get everything right, that would probably just come out sounding mean. No, she was keeping the tally for her own sake. It was a matter of practicality, if she kept ahold of the fact that it had only been fifteen, then she wouldn't lose track and start feeling like it had been a million. That repetitive sensation drilling into her bones and tugging down at her mind had been the doom of more practice sessions than she really wanted to admit. When treacherous thoughts took root, whispering that their rehearsal was dragging on too long, that maybe both of them secretly wanted to stop for now, that was when...
One of her fingers slipped, a tiny motion, almost imperceptible to an outside observer, yet she felt it. Mari bit back a noise of frustration as she barely managed to correct course.
("...when you start to screw it up. Great going.")
Thankfully, this time she'd caught herself in a split second before actually hitting a wrong note, but even so, something in her chest twinged at that near-mistake. This was way too early in the piece for something like that to even come close to happening. Not that there was ever really a good time, that's why they called them mistakes, but here and now would have been extra embarrassing. She remembered when she'd first selected this piece – with Sunny's input, of course, it had seemed important for them to do one he liked listening to as well. Back then her fingers had practically glided through the intro in a way that made a smile bubble to her face. It had been so natural, she'd really felt that it was the perfect piece for them. Now her hands felt heavy, too slow even when she knew she was keeping time with the song. But that was complete nonsense and she knew it. Objectively speaking, almost every note still came out right every time, so she was sure she must have just been imagining it. Sunny hadn't even reacted to the near-misstep, simply joining in with his part without missing a beat. And he was probably the second-most familiar person with this song on the planet at this point. Right after her. If he didn't notice, neither would anyone else, it practically didn't happen. So it was silly and pointless for her to complain about problems that weren't even really problems. Everything was going fine.
As if the universe had sensed its cue, a distinct screech rang through the air. It had been but a single note, a mere moment, but the way it cut the gentle flow of the music to shreds... This time Mari couldn't halt the sharp breath that tore from her lungs. It had all been sounding so close to perfect, even with that near-disaster earlier. Even as her hands continued across the keys, she shot a glance at Sunny. Not that she really needed it to know what had gone wrong, the telltale scratchiness of the sound was all too familiar by now. He'd gone at the strings with too much speed, applied too much weight behind the bow. Mari weighed her options – should they just stop and start over yet again, or should she signal to keep going to the finish and then go over what went wrong afterwards? They had tried both approaches at various times, each one had its own pros and cons after all. So how should she play this... Oh. Sunny had already gone ahead and lowered his bow, his grip slack. He must have wanted to take it from the top, then? Mari let her own hands go still in turn. Ah well, number sixteen it was then. Perhaps that was a lucky charm – she was only a few months from sixteen after all.
("...Yeah right. Luck has nothing to do with it. Try harder. And tell him to as well.")
She looked down at the piano for a moment, crossing her wrists idly in a resting position before turning back to Sunny. He looked like he was frowning slightly. Mari tried to form a patient smile on her face. Sunny's expression didn't shift, or at least not that she noticed, so she had no idea if she'd actually succeeded or not.
"Sunny, remember what the tutors always told you? Don't try to force a sound, just let it flow." In truth Mari didn't much care for any of Sunny's violin tutors over the years. They never seemed like they knew what they were doing. Not that she'd interacted with them much, she had her own lessons to worry about first. And it was rude to disrespect adults like that, mom and dad wouldn't be happy if she said it out loud. But she also knew what she saw, and what she saw was Sunny improving more in a couple practice sessions with her than he did with a month's worth of tutoring. And Mari had never played violin in her life! She really didn't understand what was going on there. Yet even so, they were right about this particular piece of advice. Trying to brute force any instrument was a bad idea, so one as sensitive as a violin especially. A fact Sunny should definitely know too, but the reminder couldn't hurt.
"...Okay." Sunny spoke in reply. Mari sighed. Sunny used to talk to her sometimes when she practiced, asking questions about this or that aspect between songs. At first she had thought that might continue when he joined her with his violin, but... these days it was all just short, flat responses. There wasn't anything wrong with being focused and diligent, of course, she could definitely understand his willingness to not get distracted. They were here to practice until it was just right, so she couldn't blame him for actually taking it seriously. (But she kind of missed it nonetheless.) That wasn't what was important right now, though, she quickly reminded herself. She looked at him silently for another moment. There was nothing to be done now but to start counting down so he could get ready for the next attempt...
Wait a second.
"Hold on, what's that on your hand?" the question blurted out of Mari's mouth as soon as she'd registered the thought. Sunny jolted in surprise, and that signaled her to lean forwards – about as much as she could while facing him at an angle from the piano bench anyway - trying to get a better look. Though the lighting in the piano room was dimmer than it had been when they started, she'd still swear that she had seen a flash of something... A color that should not have been anywhere on his skin or violin bow.
"Um, it's... Nothing..." Sunny mumbled, making an odd aborted motion, like pulling his arms back only to look down and stop. It took Mari a moment to parse that, but... had he been about to shove his hands out of sight only to realize they were still occupied by his instrument? Well, that seemed to confirm something then. She felt the corners of her mouth begin to fall as she went to stand up. Pins and needles lanced across her knee and she wobbled slightly, stifling a groan – surely it shouldn't be so stiff already, that only happened when she was sitting at the piano for really long. Not important right now, she'd just have to power through. She looked away from the rebellious limb and back to Sunny, who had lowered his violin and now stared at her with an expression she couldn't decipher right now. For that matter, she had only a vague idea what her own face must've looked like at the moment, just that it was some sort of frown. She took a few steps towards him to get a closer look.
"Seriously, sis, you don't need-"
"Sunny... you're bleeding." Mari wasn't trying to cut him off, but the realization wouldn't let itself be contained. It was perhaps a slight exaggeration, it wasn't like his hands were actually dripping blood or anything so blatant, but... those lines on his fingers were shining dark red. It wasn't mistakable as anything else either. Sunny fidgeted under her gaze, shuffling his feet and shifting his stare off to her side. In any other situation, Mari might have found it amusing: twelve now and he still acted just like his little four-year-old self when she caught him stealing her bag of cookies. Excellent fodder for teasing. But right now she wasn't laughing. If anything, it just made her more concerned. And confused. Why in the world would he be reacting that way, here and now? This situation wasn't anything like that one, he wasn't doing anything wrong by... being hurt. Right, he was hurt! She shook herself. Sunny paused at the motion.
"It's not that bad." he replied slowly, still not meeting her eyes. But that was fine since she wasn't trying to meet his either, still looking pointedly at the cuts (for that was definitely what they were). Her next course of action was becoming clear, then. Without even needing to say anything, she gently extended her hands, motioning towards the instrument still in her brother's grasp. Sunny looked down at it, seeming to once again remember it was still there. Unexpectedly, his grip tightened around both the bow and the violin, knuckles starting to turn white. Mari had no idea what he could've been thinking in that instant – but it was just an instant, as before she could even begin to think of asking, the tension seeped away and he passed both items into her waiting palms. Mari took them and swept away, turning to set the violin carefully on the piano bench, the bow alongside it. Not necessarily the ideal spot, but she didn't want to take the time to put it away properly, and it was better than leaving it on the floor or against the wall. Nobody would be kicking the top of the bench by accident.
She clapped her hands slightly. "Alright, now come with me!" she instructed, striding past Sunny to exit the room. Swinging the door open – and, oops, that was maybe a little too much force, she had to catch it to stop it from striking the wall – she went to make a beeline over to her current goal.
"Mari, wait. Where are we going?" Sunny protested behind her. He sounded confused for some reason. She was confused why he was confused. At least he was still following her anyway. Having to get him moving by pulling his hand, like she used to do when leading him around town, would not have been a good option in this situation. For obvious reasons.
"To clean your hands, of course." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Because it was, wasn't it? She'd just pointed out that his hands were bleeding, what else would they do immediately after that? With that established, Mari turned her attention back to their destination, the next obstacle (if one could call it that) presenting itself. The stairs. She could feel her brow furrow with almost instinctive distaste. She'd never liked this staircase one bit. She knew not to make a big deal of it, mom had looked at her strangely and told her to stop being silly the one time she'd mentioned it. It probably wasn't a normal thought to have, but she'd never really been able to shake it either. It was frankly a little annoying with how often she had to go up and down each day. Like right now. Not for the first time did she wish it was just a one-story house instead. Ah well, there was nothing for it now, or any other time for that matter.
She started tromping up the staircase, but less than halfway through, that all-too-familiar feeling of needles jammed into her knee again. Right. That was probably part of the reason for her disdain. Normally something as simple as a short walk up a staircase wouldn't set her knee off, but these ones... They were the slightest bit off. Whoever built them had made each individual step just a couple inches too tall, required just that tiny bit of extra movement to step up them. Even in her head that sounded ridiculous, exactly the sort of nitpicky nonsense she'd probably be scolded for, but the way her leg protested wasn't lying. And it happened every time she went up – albeit usually not this badly – and only with these stairs (and the identical set in the house next door). So she knew she was onto something... At least Sunny had believed her, when she'd confided her theory to him.
Speaking of Sunny, as she paused at the top to rub a few circles across her knee to try and soothe it (to minimal effect, as usual), he took the opportunity to protest again.
"What about practice?" he tried quietly. Mari paused and looked back at him, genuinely surprised by the question. Their practice session was really not what was foremost in her mind. It wasn't... No, no, she couldn't even finish that thought, it was absolutely important. Not for the practice hours themselves, per se, but as a necessary step in order to make sure the recital went perfectly. That was important, really important. So very, very important.
("Does Sunny even realize just how important?")
Mari shook her head to clear that train of thought. Not the point. "We can get back to it." she declared in response. There, that was more in line with what she was feeling, practicing was obviously incredibly important but it wasn't her number one priority at this very second. Of course it wasn't, why in the world would Sunny even think it would be when he was hurt? Mari led him over to the bathroom and swung the door open (taking care to do it a little more gently this time). She saw Sunny hesitating once again, but she gestured towards the doorway in a manner she hoped was encouraging. He let out a small huff and shook his head slightly, but she had seen him do so often enough – particularly with Kel – to recognize it as a concession, and indeed he stepped past her into the bathroom. He took a seat on the edge of the tub while Mari flicked the light on. Pulling open the medicine cabinet, she gave a little "aha" as she spotted her prize: a black bottle of hydrogen peroxide disinfectant. Sunny gave a put-upon sigh behind her.
"Sis, do we have to do this part?" he complained, but his tone was more resigned than anything, like he already knew what the answer was. Mari answered anyway.
"Of course! You know you don't want to get infected, it's bad news." Her reply was familiar, almost chipper. They'd done this song and dance, had almost this exact same exchange, many times over. Sunny hadn't been the most coordinated when he was younger. Not quite as prone to tripping over himself as Kel, perhaps, but then that was just Kel's boundless energy. Either way, her little brother was no stranger to scrapes and cuts and every other variety of tiny injury you could think of. And he'd always preferred to come to Mari when those happened. She wouldn't scold him about it – or at least, not beyond a concerned chiding to be a little more careful. And in turn, she always just wanted to make sure he was okay. ….Now that she thought about it, they hadn't done this in a long time. Years. But then, Sunny was growing up, so maybe she shouldn't be surprised by that either. Kneeling down next to Sunny, she uncapped the bottle, and Sunny wrinkled his nose at the acrid smell. Mari might have found the expression amusing, but honestly, she didn't blame him one bit.
"Alright, let's see what we're working with." she said, more to herself than anything. Sunny offered his hands and Mari carefully looked them over. Under the buzzing bright light of the bathroom, they looked... both better and worse. Better because, outside of the shadows of the piano room (why had it been so dim in there anyway?), the cuts appeared lighter and shallower than she'd thought they were. Worse because the stark lighting revealed multiple more tiny cuts and blisters, partially healed so they were too faded to see before. They were scattered across his fingers, on both hands, but especially the one he held his bow in. "Oh, Sunshine..." Mari whispered, and Sunny turned his head away, his shoulders sagging. He clearly wasn't comfortable. And neither was she. Now, everything Mari had researched about learning string instruments suggested that every up-and-coming player was going to cut themselves on the strings a few times, it was pretty much inevitable. Not so different from how she'd gotten blisters and sore wrists from her piano. But this... this seemed like a lot.
("...He was really playing like that and you didn't even look? Some teacher.")
But now wasn't the time. Clean it first and then... Mari shook herself. "Get ready for the sting, okay?" she instructed, voice a little softer than it had been before. She didn't want to upset Sunny further. After a moment he nodded to signal that he was ready, and she began to apply the disinfectant to his hands. Predictably, he hissed when it washed over the most recent cuts, the ones that were still red, the peroxide foaming up slightly as it did its work. Mari had done this enough, with both Sunny's scrapes and her own occasional ones, that she worked as quickly and efficiently as possible, so even with the quantity of cuts, it didn't take long. Striding back over to the medicine cabinet, she fished around in it a bit before finding a small box tucked away in the back. She glanced down at it and raised an eyebrow in surprise. When had they gotten these? And it was the only box in there, at least of the right size.
"Sorry Sunny, looks like there's only pink Sweetheart band-aids. You'll survive, right?" she joked to try and bring a little levity back. Sunny looked up at her and squinted at the box in her hand.
"...It's fine." he said, but Mari noticed the slightest hint of his face twisting with the usual disgust he showed towards anything Sweetheart-related. Mission successful. Sometimes, she'd found, watching his reactions could be more fun than the actual cartoon. Pulling a couple of the band-aids from the box, Mari couldn't help but feel that "pink" had been something of an understatement. They were aggressively pink, so much so that it made the bottle of hair dye Aubrey had been desperately wishing for look downright dull by comparison. Sunny stared at the neon cotton candy nightmare in her hands with a look of... she couldn't tell if it was fascination or horror. Possibly both. She didn't blame him, she was feeling similarly. There was no way that color naturally existed. Were these radioactive?
Well, there was nothing for it, they really were the only option available. Taking Sunny's hands once again, Mari carefully stuck a few of the bandages over his fingers. Not many, she didn't want to go overboard and impede his fingers any, and she figured only the deepest cuts, the ones he'd either gotten or reopened today, really required it. The very same couple of red lines she'd spotted that started all of this, in fact. With the last offensively on-brand Sweetheart band-aid in place, Mari found herself almost instinctively patting Sunny on the top of his head to signal they were done, the same way she used to when he was smaller. And just like back then, Sunny apparently didn't appreciate it, as he immediately reached up to shove her hand away. She allowed herself a small laugh as she turned to begin putting everything away – sparing one last glance at the box of inscrutable pink menaces before sealing their evil away in the cabinet once again. Sunny stood and shuffled out of the room, Mari right behind him, making sure to hit the light switch again on her way out.
As they went, however, Mari found that it didn't take long for her lightened mood to drain out of her. Sunny's injuries had been taken care of to her satisfaction, yet... that instinct that had been bubbling in her chest ever since she'd first seen them hadn't faded. The one that was always there when she felt that she needed to help him.
"Sunny..." she began slowly. Sunny halted a few steps away from the top of the stairs. "Do you... think you can play in the recital tonight? If your hands hurt too much, I... I can see about canceling."
("What in the world are you saying?")
Sunny whipped his head around so fast it was amazing he didn't give himself whiplash, his eyes wide as he stared at Mari. But she was only vaguely aware of that, her mind suddenly overflowing with thoughts. The offer had surprised even her – it wasn't a lie, but... what would actually happen when he accepted? She'd have to call mom and dad, so that they could contact the venue to reschedule. But just the thought of that phone call made her feel like a cold iron weight was sitting in her stomach. Everything was already planned, sorted out months in advance, nobody would be happy with such a last-minute upset. Not the venue, not mom and dad, not their friends who were probably getting all dressed up... She'd need to give a reason. What would she possibly tell them? That she was feeling sick and not up to playing? It sounded weak even in her head. There were no good excuses she could think of, but she'd need one, and... Everyone would be so-
"No!" The sudden shout startled Mari out of her train of thought. Sunny was still standing ahead of her, and was he... vibrating? Wait, no, that was her vision. Was she shaking? Why would she be shaking? She forced herself to stop. Sunny didn't seem to notice. "No..." he repeated, quieter. His head tilted down. "You don't have to do that. I can play."
That instinct twinged in the back of Mari's chest. "Are you sure?" she found herself asking him equally quietly, looking at the top of his head.
("Why are you second-guessing him? This is the right choice!")
Sunny tensed, not so different from how she'd seen when he handed over his violin. Fists clenched. "...Yeah. I'll play." he said. Slowly, he looked up at her, trying to meet her eyes. Mari forced herself to hold eye contact in turn – he was clearly serious, so she had to. "I'll play." he repeated, louder. Was he trying to convince her? ….Of course, Sunny was determined to play, everything had been leading up to the recital, that shouldn't have remotely surprised her. He wanted to play with her, just like he'd said before, she shouldn't be questioning that now. Her little brother wasn't going to be taken out by a few obnoxiously bright band-aids, she knew that. Was that why he looked so tense? Was she annoying him by fussing too much? She didn't know for sure, but it was the only theory she could think of, so she had to believe it was at least on the right track.
"Alright, Sunny, then let's do it." she conceded, trying to give him an encouraging smile. For some reason, however, that persistent feeling wasn't going away. When she thought of going downstairs and immediately picking up practice again, right back to attempt number sixteen like the last ten minutes hadn't even happened, it only prickled further. It felt... off, like something was wrong. Which made no sense, but she couldn't deny it. Unbidden, a new thought popped into her head. "But, we could take a break from practicing for now, what do you think?" The suggestion came out without thinking, a sudden impulse the seemed to mollify that feeling in her chest. At least a little. Sunny blinked at her, and his surprise was easy to read.
"But, the recital's tonight...?" he pointed out uncertainly. It was a valid point, Mari was only just going over the logistical problems of her suggestion in her mind. Just blurting it out like that hadn't been a good idea, but she wasn't going to retract it either. It was her job to make it work.
"Right." she agreed with a nod. "But I know we'll have some time backstage at the venue, and they have a spare piano set up for rehearsing." she was speaking the plan as it formed in her head. "Last-minute practice won't be easy, but I think a couple hours to refresh ourselves before we iron it out might actually help. Sound good?" There. That was a fair compromise, wasn't it? It would come down to the wire, but they could manage it. They'd have to. As long as everything came out perfectly when they were on stage, the exact road they took to get there didn't matter as much. Sunny frowned, clearly considering her suggestion, but Mari was sure that he must have been tempted. He liked to take breaks, she knew that, it was why the thought of doing so had occurred to her in the first place. Slowly, almost sheepishly, he nodded his head, and Mari clapped her hands. "Okay, and that works out too, Basil said he might come by this afternoon too, so-"
"Umm, Mari?" Sunny interrupted her, looking at her with his head tilting slightly. "It is afternoon." he pointed out. Mari blinked. Oh. Right. The dim lighting in the piano room. It was like that because it was later than she'd thought. That made sense. But had they really been practicing for that long? Sunny had a good sense of time – well, when he wasn't sleeping in – so she believed him without needing to double-check, it just felt strange. She'd been keeping count of the number of attempts specifically to avoid that, how had she still ended up doing it? She needed to be even more careful, clearly.
"Well, alright, then he could be here any time." she began, trying to get herself back on track. "How about you head downstairs to meet him, while I..." she paused and looked down at herself. "I need to get changed." She was still wearing her white nightgown, had been wearing it all day apparently. It wasn't the first time. Mari liked that nightgown, she'd even say it was her favorite. None of the others she had quite matched up to this one. There was just something about this specific gown that felt better to wear. Maybe it was the type of fabric or something, but all her other gowns... they weren't uncomfortable, but she was always vaguely aware that they were there, against her skin. But this one was just... lighter. But not in a physical way, because they all weighed about the same. She couldn't think of a way to explain it, it was just her favorite. But she needed to get dressed, and probably brush her hair too. She was expected to look nice and formal at the recital, after all.
Sunny nodded in agreement to her suggestion after a moment, snapping her out of her train of thought, and turned back to the stairs. Mari watched him go for a moment before she made her way to their room. The break was a good idea, Sunny would have told her if it wasn't. They were going to relax for a bit, hang out with Basil, and then put their noses back to the grindstone and play a perfect recital. It sounded like a sensible enough plan.
So why did she still feel like she was missing something?