Shin's Song

part three

by Krystal Rose

        It was Friday. The day of the fine arts contest had arrived and I was up on a natural high all day. I hummed my song to myself over and over, not wanting to somehow forget it when the time came to perform. When the final bell rang at the end of the school day; I ran from the class room like a bolt of lightning. It was my intention to spend as much time as I could in the auditorium practicing on the grand piano.
        When I climbed the stairs leading up to the auditorium stage; I felt something. It felt as if I were not alone in the large auditorium. Surveying the room, I found that there was no one in sight. I dismissed the feeling and sat down in front of the piano. I began to play. I slowed the tempo a bit, giving the song a more sensuous feel.
        “I think I like it this way much better,” I told myself as I finished my run-through. “Though I really need to accent those final three measures,” I said, making the last-minute revisions on the sheet music in front of me. As I finished, the strange feeling was back. “You can come out now,” I called out, sensing that someone was definitely watching me.
        “How did you know I was watching you?” responded a startled female voice.
        “I just did, anyway, what brings you here, Jenina?” I asked her, turning around on the piano bench.
        “Nothing,” she replied calmly, “I was just wondering when you were going to leave so that I could have some practice time.” She climbed the steps up to the stage. She walked with her nose high in the air and her hands on her hips.
        “I don’t see any reason why I have to leave in order for you to practice.” I answered her. As she sauntered her way over to where I was sitting, I could not help but pick up on her emotions. I felt a huge conflict of some sort brewing inside of her. If I chose my next words carefully, I might be able to get her to admit what was the matter.
        “I don’t care to have people nosing around when I practice.” She said flatly.
        “But I was here first,” I pointed out calmly.
        “You, you, can’t do that,” she spit out in a flurry of syllables.
        “Why not?” I continued, picking up on her frustration.
        “Well,” Jenina muttered, “because, because…”
        “If you have your music, I can accompany you,” I offered after she finished rambling.
        “You?” she questioned skeptically. To offer her a demonstration, I started playing Chopin’s Polonaise in A flat major. I held back a giggle when I saw her jaw drop.
        “You like Chopin?” she asked, astonished. I cheered inwardly. I had just broken the ice.
        “My favorite,” I admitted, “along with Debussy, Handel and Schubert.”
        “Really?” she walked over and sat down next to me on the piano bench. “I love Handel’s Water Music, but I adore Chopin’s Prelude in E minor.”
        “Why that piece?” I asked as I placed my fingers on the ivory keys, “It’s such a sad work.” I paused a moment and began to play the mournful piece. Jenina watched intently as I played. I could feel the multitude of emotions churning inside of her.
        “It matches my heart,” she said finally, as I drew the prelude to its conclusion.
        I frowned, something was really bothering her.
        “Do you trust me?” I asked her, hoping that she would not close herself off to me. Even though it would be a simple matter for me to just read her mind, I didn’t think it would have been very gentlemanly of me to invade her privacy.
        “I barely know you,” she admitted, “but, yes. For some reason, I do trust you.”
        “Well then,” I said as I placed my hand of her shoulder. I was nearly knocked of the bench by the psychic shockwave I received. Jenina, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to what just happened. If I could just keep her talking, maybe I would have enough time to work my power on her without her knowledge. “So, what’s on your mind?” I asked her through the swirling emotions that rippled though my mind.
        “I don’t know if I should tell you,” she began cautiously.
        “Tell me only what want,” I told her, feeling almost like a shrink with his patient.
        “It’s my father,” she whispered, “He hates me.” I felt another emotional ripple from her.
        “Go on,” I encouraged her. I was still quite unsure how much longer I would need to soothe her gaping emotional wound.
        “All my life, my father pushed me. He insisted I take voice lessons. He made me spend hours every day practicing, but I was never good enough for him.” A tear escaped her eye and trickled down her cheek. “He scolds me terribly if my singing is not good enough for his approval.”
        “Do you enjoy singing?” I asked.
        “Yes, but not enough to make a career out of it. My father has his heart set on me becoming this prima donna, he won’t accept it if I lose tonight’s contest.” She looked at me sadly, her eyes filled with tears.
        “Jenina,” I began slowly, “do you trust in yourself?”
        “What?” she whispered.
        “Do you trust yourself?” I repeated.
        “I don’t know,” she admitted.
        “You have to trust in yourself before you can do anything of any importance,” I told her. “Only then will you have the courage to do what you know in your heart is what you truly want. If singing is not your desire, then trust your feelings. Try to let your father know your desires. Your happiness is far more important that his expectations.”
        She then began to cry in earnest. She preceded to lean towards me, when she caught herself and looked up. I nodded to let her know it was all right. She then laid her head on my shoulder and wept.
        She just needs a shoulder to cry on, I thought, she’s not the person I thought she was. I held her as she cried, all the while focusing my gentle power on her mind. I don’t remember how long it took me to heal her. It must have taken a good hour to comfort her years of enduring emotional abuse from her father. During that time, I listened to her intently while she cried.
        “Thank you for listening to me Shin,” she whispered lightly, “No one else would have cared enough to listen to me.”
        “I just want you to know that you can always talk to me,” I replied, “I’d also be glad if I could call you my friend.”
        “You mean, you want me for a friend? Why?” she asked, her voice shaking.
        “Because you have a beautiful spirit and a kind heart, but you just didn’t know you had them,” I assured her.
        “Thank you,” she said again, “I feel so different. It’s like my heart has forgotten about years of loneliness.”
        I smiled, “That’s good to hear.” I was so glad the I was able to use my power to help someone. Healing her left me with a feeling of satisfaction and pride. Thank you Suiko, I reflected, Thank you for giving me the power to heal and not just the power to destroy.

        Backstage, I was wringing my hands in expectation. The show had just begun and I was more then ready. I looked around the room at all of the other performers who were getting ready to go on. I didn’t see Jenina among them. I really hope she makes it, I thought.         The show was filled with a wide variety of acts. There was everything from instrumental recitals to improvisational skits. I was impressed with the talent of the students that performed and I hoped that I would do as well.
        When it was almost time for Jenina to go on, I still didn’t see her. I was beginning to worry that she wouldn’t make it on time. As the performer before her was taking his final bow, Jenina came rushing into the backstage area.
        “It’s almost time for you to go on,” I whispered.
        “Yes, I know,” she managed to reply as her name was called. She took a deep breath to calm herself before walking confidently onstage. She took her place center stage, refusing the microphone that was offered to her. As the accompanist began to play, Jenina began to sing in a way that I could only describe as angelic. Her rich soprano carried throughout the entire auditorium without a microphone. She sang in a full-throated opera style. My ears drank in every last pitch as they were launched from her perfect vocal chords. Though her singing was technically perfect, there was something that it was missing. Her singing has no feeling , I concluded. She does not feel passionate about her music. The diva then drew her song to a closing crescendo, ending with a note so high that it must have been several ledger lines above the treble staff. The audience was on its feet as she walked off the stage.
        “Good luck,” she whispered to me as my name was called. I swallowed hard and walked out from behind the curtain. The audience politely applauded as I took my seat behind the piano. I adjusted the bench so that my feet could reach the pedals. I lifted my hands and began to play my song:

As I walk alone in desperate night,
I think I hear your voice.
Ever since you’ve gone away,
I have waited for you.

I long for your tenderness,
With your arms around me.
Even when my hope is gone,
I stand waiting for you.

When my sadness brings streams of tears,
Your face comes to mind.
Then I smile in spite of myself,
And my spirit is renewed.

I long for your tenderness,
With your arms around me.
Even when my hope is gone,
I stand waiting for you.

Though I know you’re far away,
Far away from my embrace,
But I trust within my heart,
You’ll be back again someday.

        As I sang the final note, I felt my heart leap in tremendous relief. It came out just as I had hoped. I stood to my feet and accepted the standing ovation from the audience. I bowed deeply and walked off stage. I was so pleased with myself.
        “You did wonderful!” exclaimed Jenina. She smiled warmly as she gave me a light kiss on my cheek. I felt myself blush in surprise.
        “You were perfect,” I told her, “I’m sure you’ll win.”
        “No,” she shook her head, “You sang your song with such passion. Mine was so dull and lifeless.”
        “Don’t go too hard on yourself,” I reassured her, “let the judges make the decisions.”

        After a wait of about fifteen minutes, Ms Tori, our music teacher, walked to the microphone at the center of the stage. She held a sheet of paper in her hand.
        “And now for the results of this year’s fine arts competition. Before I announce the winners, why don’t we have a round of applause for all of our participants.” The audience politely clapped for a moment before Ms Tori continued, “As for the winners, it looks like we have a tie. Two participants both earned perfect scores. Will Yosora Jenina and Mouri Shin come out to the stage?” I stood dumbfounded for a moment before I felt Jenina tug on my arm.
        “What are you waiting for, silly, let’s go,” we both walked from behind the curtain into the bright stage lights. Ms Tori shook each of our hands before turning back to the microphone.
        “Although we have two winners, we only have one first place scholarship. We are going to have to come up with a tie breaker,” the teacher informed us.
        “Wait a minute,” interrupted Jenina, “Please give the scholarship to Shin. He deserves it more then I do.”
        “Well, I suppose,” began the astonished teacher. No one had ever seen Jenina act so humble. “I guess the first place scholarship goes to…” Ms Tori was suddenly cut off before she could finish.
        “You’ll do no such thing!” A tall, imposing man from the audience rose to his feet. Powerful emotional waves of dread emanated from Jenina.
        “Father please!” Jenina pleaded. She was almost to the point of tears.
        “You deserve the scholarship, you will participate in the tiebreaker,” he demanded. He spoke as if he expected his daughter to obey without question.
        “No,” she answered softly.
        “What did you say?” her father questioned, surprised by his daughter’s disobedience.
        “I said no,” she responded, this time with resolve. “I don’t want a music career.” As she said that, a variety of gasps could be heard around the auditorium. Everyone was shocked that Jenina would stand and defy her father in front of everyone. “I want to become an artist,” she said firmly, “I want to teach children to draw and express themselves through art. That is my passion.” She then turned and looked at me, “Shin’s passion is music, give him the scholarship. I have enough trust in myself to know that I’m making the right choice.” She didn't wait for her father or anyone else to respond. She took off running and disappeared backstage.
        I knew that it would be very rude to run after her and leave Ms Tori alone, so I stayed to accept the award. I smiled and said a few words about how winning was such an honor. As soon as I could get myself away, I went looking for Jenina.
        Hey Shin, spoke Shu telepathically, aren’t you coming with us? We’ve got this great celebration party planned.
        Give me a moment, ok? I replied.
        Oh, you’re looking for that girl.
        She did give up the scholarship for me. The least I can do is thank her.
        Just meet us outside.
        Sure thing, I focused my power on finding Jenina. I sensed that she was hiding somewhere backstage.
        “Jenina,” I called out, hoping that she would answer me.
        “I’m over here,” she replied softly. She was nestled in between two large boxes in the storage area backstage. With the black dress she was wearing, I found it difficult to see her. I didn’t think I would have found her if she hadn’t answered me.
        “What are you doing back here?” I asked gently.
        “I don’t want to face my father,” she said darkly, “He’ll scream and yell at me for sure. I don’t know if I’ll be able stand up to him when I get home.”
        Using my mental skills I psychically scanned the auditorium for Jenina’s father. When I was able to sense him I got the impression that his anger would be short-lived and would cool down after a while.
        “Jenina,” I began, “Why don’t you came with me and my friends? We’re going to this great restaurant that I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”
        “What about my father? I don’t want to make him even more angry with me.”
        “Just give him time to cool off, I’m sure he’ll understand after he has a while to think things over, trust me on this one.” I helped her to her feet and we both walked outside to meet the guys.

        Jenina called me two weeks later to inform me that things were looking better for her. She had a long talk with her father and they both reached an understanding that it was up to her to choose her own career.
        “I’m so glad that you’ve worked things out with your father,” I told her on the phone.
        “Yes, I’m even going to be going to art school in Paris,” she said excitedly.
        “Paris? You’re kidding!” I exclaimed. It was so glad that she would get the opportunity to follow her dreams.
        “Yes,” she replied happily, “It’s like everything is finally coming together for me.” She paused for a moment before saying, “thanks Shin.”
        “What for?” I asked, wondering what she was trying to get at.
        “For helping me find the courage to trust in myself, silly,” I could tell by her tone of voice that she was grinning.
        “Yes,” I replied, “always trust in yourself.”


        “It still needs something,” I grumbled, ready to snap my pencil in half. I had been working on the same song for nearly a month and it still sounded wrong. “Maybe if I change the dynamics here or change the time signature in measures 38 through 47…”
        “I know what it needs,” interrupted Shu from behind my shoulder. He and Seiji had been observing me the whole time.
        “What’s that?” I asked.
        "Friends,” both Shu and Seiji answered in unison.
        “You guys may be on to something,” I smiled as I began playing the introduction to my latest work. The three of us sang the song together, with me on the melody and my friends singing harmony. Seiji had a surprisingly delicate tenor with an almost mystical quality that didn’t fade when he hit the treble range. Shu sang a lower tenor with a rich, velvety timbre. The song worked perfectly.
        “Three Tenors eat your heart out!” Shu joked.
        I knew at that moment that I had the greatest friends in the world.


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