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Kris was bored.
Noelle had joined the church choir, and that meant she couldn't hang out after school anymore. And with Asriel also in the choir and Dess off working at the diner it meant that their mother had dragged them to sit in the pews until choir practice was over.
All they’ve been doing is playing the same levels over and over on Asriel's GCi, poking the stylus until the screen cracks. They also took pictures of Noelle and squishing and stretching them in the photo studio to show her later, but that got old fast.
Joining the choir themself just felt…
Wrong.
They couldn't get their voice to do anything substantial, despite what their mom says.
"…Would you like a pillow? I understand school can be tiring, having to wait here more so."
Kris looks up behind them to see the new priest standing next to the pew. He's the son of that old man that comes by their house sometimes if they remember correctly. After Snowy's mom fell down, he took over the job of leading service.
However they weren't tired enough to take a nap now.
"I see. Hold on, Kris, let me talk to your mother for a second."
The interaction takes less than a minute, leaving their mom smiling at whatever Father Alvin spoke of. She follows him down the pews while they stand and pocket the GCi ready to hear what this is all about. They catch the confused look Asriel has on his face and they shrug.
Their mother places a hand on their shoulder,
"Kris, how do you feel about learning piano? Father Alvin here used to play with the choir a long time ago before Miss Undyne. With her busy with your father, it's been much quieter without an accompaniment…"
Father Alvin's chuckle peters off quietly, "I'm not an expert by any means, but I've taught the basics before."
Their fingers curl around the ends of their sleeves, only for their mother to place a more firmer hand on the priest's shoulder,
"I know you've only heard Miss Undyne play, but how about we let Father Alvin here play with the choir so you can hear what it's like?"
"Ms. Dreemurr—"
With one sharp look from her Father Alvin takes a slow breath and nods, outstretching a hand to guide them to the pews closer to where the choir has gathered. Father Alvin takes a hesitant seat at the organ in the back, taking out a handkerchief to wipe off the dust that's been gathered on the wood. His feet testing the pedals almost instinctively while his fingers ghost over keys.
Father Alvin looks over to their mother, "May we take it a little slower? I can lead us in."
The rest of the choir agrees, Noelle giving them a quick wave before Asriel whispers in her ear and she quickly turns the pages to some other song they must have been working on. Their mother raises an arm as everyone quiets, a low note of the organ filling the church's empty halls.
It begins slow, almost meek. Not as aggressive as Miss Undyne performs, or anything like how Dess plays things. The rhythm is shaky at first but settles in something comfortable as the choir fills the rest of the space and it can disappear into the background. There's more going on that doesn't follow the rest of the choir at all, they almost strain to hear the way it moves along concurrently with the melody. But it's there, trying to do it's own thing. The rhythm slips sometimes but quickly jumps back in, just in time for the accompaniment to be heard in the outro as the choir ends their last note.
Father Alvin's hands quickly retract from the keys, landing in his lap. His foot on the pedal remains however, letting the last notes ring out into the church and dissipate into nothing.
There's a small applause from the rest of the choir, and their mother goes and speaks to Father Alvin before they come back to their spot in the pews.
"So, would you like to learn from the Father, Kris?"
With their chest feeling rather light, they can only nod in silence.
They follow Father Alvin into the storage room, a lone piano sitting against the wall just as dusty as the organ that he quickly cleans off. The empty sheet music he places on the piano's rack is yellowed with age, yet he writes several things on it anyway.
"It's been quite a long time since I taught— I suppose my last "student" was my friend, and that's when we were both children…" Alvin begins, "I'm told you're already familiar with sheet music?"
They nod, Dess had taught them a little as she was copying stuff off tutorial videos from her laptop. Dess' guitar was too big to reasonably play though, despite how much they wanted to. But there was a piano at the Holiday's house too. Maybe they could play that in the meantime.
The lesson is focused more on getting their hand posture right and simple melodies Father Alvin somehow is able to write down on the spot on the yellowed paper. But they get the hang of it quick, only having to look constantly up and down to match the notes to the keys. It's a little frustrating, trying to get their hands to do what they want to do. Trying to separate their hands to play different things at the same time.
But this is something they can do. Something without their voice, without their face. Something where their feelings can shine somewhere else.
"Your performance… earlier…" they mumble out, catching Father Alvin's attention,
"Yes, Kris?"
"…It was pretty sick."
Father Alvin only blinks at the statement before he lets out a quiet chuckle,
"Thank you, Kris. It means quite at lot to hear that."
Kris did not join the choir. Even after a few lessons with Father Alvin, it didn't feel right.
"It is quite alright, Kris. You may still come here anytime to use the piano however. I do not mind." Father Alvin had said after their rejection, "I try to keep this place open to everyone here in Hometown, no matter what."
Father Alvin didn't play with the choir either, letting Undyne take the charge most Sundays. Somehow, Kris misses the gentler versions of the accompaniment only they got to hear. Only getting to imagine what they would sound like on the organ not too far away.
The storage room was filled with a lot of sheet music, hastily stored away in boxes that they dug through in their spare time looking for something fun to play while choir practice went on next door. Most of them were printed on old paper or bound into books with frayed edges. But occasionally there was something penciled in on empty sheet music. Simple melodies with even simpler bass lines. There were a few with bars completely scribbled on to cross them out, grooves tearing into the paper and hastily fixed with tape.
The papers with full written songs were as gentle and hesitant as their writer.
"Ah, I wrote these back when I was your age. Not good at all, are they?" Father Alvin had commented during one of their lessons. Something they could only shrug at.
"My friend liked to play them despite their quality. Suggesting things I should add. Perhaps I should have credited her as a co-composer back then."
"Huh? Why don't I write anymore?"
"Life… simply gets in the way, doesn't it? Things are ever moving, as my father says. You and your friends get busy lives as you grow older…"
"…You want me to help you write something? Kris, I couldn't possibly…"
"Alright then. Perhaps next time you could show me which song from your game you wanted to play?"
They haven't had a lesson with Father Alvin in forever. Not since they got interrupted once by the priest's father coming to visit, commenting on his teaching or whatever. Father Alvin still let them into the storage room though, and they left a crack in the door to make sure they were heard down the hall.
They wished they could just come here during service as well instead of listening to the occasional sermon before falling asleep.
Now that Asriel was doing other after school stuff, Kris found themselves playing more piano at Noelle's than going to the church. It was a different sound there in the dining room compared to the storage room, and Dess liked to come around and try something on the keys before they pushed her off so they could play their own stuff.
Sometimes they'd play at the hospital piano too, the untuned keys making things sound different in a way they liked.
Kris only felt like composing at the church however, with no one else around but someone who didn't expect it to sound good at first. Someone who understood.
And also let them smash their fingers into the organ keys for fun just to hear the room explode with sound.
But now…
They cannot play with this audience. This soul brimming in their chest.
It wouldn't understand anything, despite the way it commands and makes their body move. It would interrupt any kind of feeling they'd normally put into it.
It wouldn't feel right. It wouldn't feel like…them.
The switch had lit up a staff that floated in the air, a simple tune in not so perfect handwriting. Handwriting they recognized penciled in on old yellowed paper.
"Crap, I can't read this." Susie grumbles, "You?"
With a quick nod, their body moves on their own back towards the piano. Their hand is slow and stilted as they play the notes, and with frustration they also quickly replay the melody again on their own before the gate is opened.
"Sweet, let's go Kris!"
They didn't think these old tunes would manifest here. They wonder if the old man even recognized them, staring at the floating staffs with melancholy.
They wonder if the old man had ever heard them be played or simply seen these turn into short scraps, torn apart, that they now had to tape together.
With one glance at the sheet music Susie had copied down, they recognized this one immediately. One of the only songs that seemed to be mostly finished and kept in one piece. Adapted from somewhere else, just like their own compositions. It was only the melody, but they knew enough to improvise. To fill in the missing gaps.
And Susie wanted to hear them play. Really play.
They took a deep breath and raised their hands. Nothing tugged at them, stopped them at all.
It simply sat there, waiting as well.
Somehow, Kris could breathe.
Their fingers pressed into the keys, and they played.
It wasn't perfect, but it was something only he could have written. Something only they could understand how to build upon.
They didn't play well. He wouldn't have either, but would have his audience truly cared?
Their hands smash into the keys afterward, just to hear the piano explode with sound.
Somewhere else, an old man stops revising a letter, closing his eyes to listen to the gentle tune.
He had waited a long time to hear this one.
Perhaps he could pass another message to that kid, to make sure that tune can be played again for someone else.
Maybe then, these dark halls would be shining with music again.
It's been a long time since they stood in this storage room, staring at this piano. Listening to Susie's story made their chest feel light again, despite the weight that was forced to be there.
"If you play too." their mouth mumbles out.
"…Huh?"
It spoke their deepest thought out loud. But it was worth it, to see Susie's smile in the darkness.
"…Heh, yeah… yeah, sure. If you teach me or something… Let's do it. Someday."
"What? You liked my drum playing last night?"
"Pffft! Hahahah! 'Course it was "bangin'"! Can't really screw it up, it's just hitting stuff. Y'know?"
They nod.
It doesn't need to be perfect.