Musical Cues [Yui]

The table had been racked for eight-ball, though only Sigga was participating in the game. It was one of her few hidden talents. Back in America she had developed an aptitude in fleecing college students. Nobody expected to lose to a young teenage girl, especially if she didn’t appear to be particularly good at the game. You’d think that her insistence to put money on a match would have made people suspicious, but nope. Hubris always won out. Sometimes the girl would intentionally flub a break. This would inspire a bit of trash-talk from whomever she was up against. Of course she’d act like she had been goaded into it, but people almost always accepted her subsequent offer to double any bet. Then she’d clean them out.

It had been a couple weeks since she last played. Her previous game had been against her grandfather. She couldn’t help but exercise her hustle on the old man. It took a bit of effort, but eventually money was on the table. There was even some friendly trash-talking that had taken place and the amount of the bet had been doubled just like planned. Obviously Sigga absolutely wouldn’t have accepted the money once she won. It had just been for practice. Practice and showing off. Only… it hadn’t quite gone in the manner she had expected it to. Apparently the teenager too had a bit of excessive pride. Before she knew it the game had ended and she had lost to one of the best players she had ever come up against. Her grandfather had no intention of holding her to the bet though, the ordeal ending up being a bit of a lesson for the young fish. It was a lesson she wouldn’t forget. So, instead of practicing her bluff, the girl was simply trying to increase her competency with the game.

The billiard balls shot off in different directions. Sigga performed a clean break, sinking one each of strips and solids then surveying the table. Before she could decide on her next shot, the sound of the rec room door opening grabbed her attention. The teen spun her head, surprised to see someone else this early in the morning. She had specifically chosen to practice while everyone else was still asleep so she could keep her talent hidden and refine her technique without interruptions. The secrecy was more a habit rather than some sort of long-term stratagem. It wasn’t like she was going to start hustling her classmates. That might get her in trouble and she doubted they had any money anyway.

“Mornin’~” The fish girl chirped in reply. Though company was contrary to her plans, she didn’t seem particularly bothered by the other girl’s sudden appearance. “Heh. Me neither. Couldn’t sleep?” Sigga asked, turning back briefly to study her table again.

Sigga too was one to wake up early. Early fish catches the worm after all! Lately sleep was something that rarely eluded the girl. Ever since moving to Japan she had developed a habit of going to bed early and waking up at the crack of dawn. Jet lag got the credit for setting up her circadian rhythm to that effect, but not having any friends in this strange country meant there weren’t any late-night gatherings to disrupt her new sleeping pattern. It had been a refreshing change to her previous lifestyle that the teen aimed to keep for the time being.

The sound of a guitar case being set aside was met with a curious look, Sigga not having noticed the girl carrying it at first. The idea of students at UA taking part in extracurricular activities that didn’t have a propinquity to hero studies was something the teen hadn’t expected to witness. Thinking about it, it shouldn’t have been that surprising. There were different class types with different course loads. The pinkish-red haired girl might have been in hero management or whatever class happened to be less demanding. She might also simply be an overachiever, though having hobbies didn’t necessarily mean one couldn’t keep up with homework. Case in point: Sigga was in the midst of indulging in some pocket billiards while being part of the hero course.

There was little need for her to ask the other girl if she played the instrument. What other reason would there be for her to carry it around? Sigga herself never learned to play an instrument. Any such interest would have died off quickly enough with no parental figures to encourage such a pursuit.

“No. No club.” The teen replied. “Figured I’d take advantage of the early morning and practice a bit.” That made her wonder what reason the other girl had for coming to the rec room this early. Had she planned to play some pool as well? That didn’t seem likely considering she had brought a musical instrument with her. A follow up question helped dismiss that theory. Sigga replied with a curt confirmation of “Yup.” She didn’t bother expanding on her answer, thinking the girl might only have been asking to be polite.

Eyes still looking at the table, the fish-girl reviewed her options. There were a few potential shots for Sigga to take in her solo game, but suddenly having an audience made her hesitate. She could play just fine under a bit of pressure, but she didn’t want to give off the appearance of showing off. Ugh. She was thinking about it too hard. The teenager made an open bridge with her hand and took an easy shot, sinking a solid straight into a side pocket.

The white cue ball ricocheted, its spin slowing until it came to a stop in perfect alignment for another accessible shot. While there were so many balls on the table it was relatively easy to find a follow-up to set. It wasn’t until after one side sunk enough of them for the game to become interesting; each billiard player trying to score while concurrently trying to set up their opponent for failure.

Sigga shrugged her shoulders as she walked to the other side of the table. “Not really.” She remarked. Like many sports the rules were relatively straightforward. Things like dominating the control of the white ball, winning continuous matches, and competing under pressure, however, were decidedly more difficult. So, as far as the nuances of the game were concerned, the cerise-haired girl was right on the money.

The finned teen squinted at the table, evidently ignoring the obvious shot she had just set up in favor of one no one in the right mind would take when playing competitively. But this was just practice and, like the other student said, practice makes perfect. Sigga didn’t seem to hear the compliment and wordlessly continued on with her game. It was not uncommon for her to drown out the outside world when focusing on a task, rude as it may have been in this case. It wasn’t until after the teen attempted to jump the cue ball and failed to sink her target by a paltry three degrees that she noticed her audience had left.

Sigga spun around to see the girl taking a seat on one of the sofas. There had been some contextual clues she had failed to pick up on as far as the other student was concerned, and now couldn’t help but have her attention diverted to the only other occupant of the rec room sitting quietly by herself. The billiards table momentarily forgotten, Sigga walked over with her cue, carelessly using it as a large walking stick to hang onto when she stopped just a few feet away from the other girl. “Did you come here to practice or something?”

Being musically literate was a quality Sigga did not possess. She never had the inclination to learn how to play an instrument and even if she did, a lack of parental guidance or encouragement and the requisite funds to buy or rent an instrument would have limited such an interest to mere fantasy. Listening to music was more her jam though technically the girl did, on occasion, elect to sing. All in the privacy of her bedroom, and only when she was certain nobody was eavesdropping, of course. There was no metric by which the fish had measure her intonations, but that was not a problem to overcome seeing as she’d sooner walk into a mosque wearing light-up nipple tassels than allow another human to witness her singing. Nobody had ever heard her croon and she intended to keep things that way.

That wasn’t to say Sigga was incapable of developing an interest in musical instruments, though any such inquisitive diversion could very well lean towards the applicable sciences relating to them, as much as the arts. Case in point Sigga didn’t know much about how an electrical guitar, like the one now wielded by the cerise-haired student, worked. She was pretty certain it had to be plugged into an amp in order to function. Things like semi-hollow electric guitars and vibration speakers were a foreign concept to the teen, as was the idea that an electric guitar could be played much like the stereotypical instrument one might picture when discussing fretted musical instruments, though with comparably muted acoustics. Hearing the offer made her wonder if some sort of set up was first required.

“I doubt you’d wake anyone up unless they’re, like, sleeping in the bathroom or something.” the bald girl remarked, purposely glancing in the direction of the bathrooms as she spoke. Though she truthfully doubted the sound of the instrument would carry all the way to the dorms, the teen also wouldn’t feel particularly bothered if it had. She was curious now as to this early-bird’s musical aptitude and she didn’t see any particular risk associated with persuading the other girl to dismiss her hesitation and play a tune.

Sigga listed forward, leaning on the cue she was still holding, her amber eyes looking at the other girl expectantly.

The piscine girl’s back straightened a little. Though Sigga had assumed some setup necessary for the electric guitar to function, she thought it odd that an offer to perform had been made without the necessary equipment already present. How much work was this girl willing to put in just for the opportunity to play something? Either the offer had been made without much thought, or the girl just really liked to perform for an audience. Or both.

Sigga blinked. “Oh. No, that’s okay.” The hand holding onto the cue stick flexed in a dismissive manner. “No need to go out of your way.” Sly yet considerate, the fish had presented an opportunity for her cerise-haired peer to withdraw the offer, and to do so without any social repercussions. Though Sigga had been mildly curious of this girl’s musical talents, it was more of an… opportunistic curiosity, so to speak. Her mind was quick to make a rather ardent connection between the other girl and her instrument. Rather than music simply being a passion or hobby the guitar could very well be a sonic arbalest in the musician’s hands, its melodies weaponized by some powerful quirk. Alas…

While she wasn’t about to pry too deep into the other girl’s ability, Sigga could hardly help herself but take this chance to find out about one of the students at UA; one that wasn’t in her own class. Each person at the academy she had spoken with so far was interesting in one way or another. “Have you known how to play for long?” the teen questioned.

With the offer to perform a musical score carefully withdraw, the other girl was able to freely answer Sigga’s casual query. The art of probing for information was a delicate dance of observation and extemporaneous questioning. Though there weren’t any significant stakes present in the girl’s verbal exchange, the bald teen could still hone her social skills on the unwitting participant. Her previous intentions to practice the artistry of pocket billiard were forgotten for the moment or, at least, mentally shelved until this opportunity had been exploited for as long as her own interest in it endured.

The answer to Sigga’s question was vague, yet still informative. She assumed the word little suggested at least a few years of study if not more. Time spent learning a topic didn’t necessarily equate to someone’s skill level, though generally those more skilled in a subject tended to have spent more time practicing it. “Hn.” An audible mumble to show she was listening and finding the expanded answer intriguing. The idea of a father, or even a parent, buying a gift for their daughter was all but foreign to Sigga. She would have been around the age of seven when she last had a real parent, but those memories had all but faded. Sure she had eaten some cake or a pastry on her own anniversary of birth, courtesy of a foster-sibling, but getting a gift as significant and expensive as a musical instrument was a concept of pure fantasy to the student. To her it wasn’t a sad thought, though. Birthday parties and the associated reception of gifts were foreign enough that any self-pity that might have been brought on by the thought had never occurred to Sigga. Jealousy on the other hand… perhaps.

Shifting in her stance, one hand letting go of the cue stick she was still holding, the teen probed further on the newly provided tangent. “Is he a pro hero?” It seemed a plausible hypothesis. If the girl had developed an interest of playing guitar due to her father’s help in nurturing that skill, then perhaps the cerise-haired girl’s choice of school had been influenced by the man to some degree as well.