Day 1: Yasu
Title: Just Listen
Rating: G
Summary: Yasuda Shota finds it very easy to write a piece of melody. All he had to do was just listen.
Author's Notes: I'm starting with Yasu's drabble :)! I blame Dancer in the Dark for this. Wrote it as soon as I finished watching the film. It's a bit short though :(
Yasuda Shota hears music everywhere. Sometimes he would sit on his bed, his guitar on his lap, pen and paper in front of him. The sliding window next to the bed would be open and the morning sunlight would spill in, casting a warm glow throughout the room.
Shota would close his eyes as he sits cross-legged on his bed. He would close his eyes and listen; listen as the birds sing their song, as the leaves danced in the breeze. He would listen to the steady beat of the traffic, the hum of engines, the chattering of people.
He would take it all in, pause for a few moments and then he’ll begin to write. The natural, unprocessed sound that he’d heard, he would convert them into musical notes; writing them down one by one on the score sheet. The notes would all flow smoothly, as if this was the most natural thing in the world to Shota. And when he finished, he would step back and take a look at it; strum the notes out on his guitar; tweak it here and there and a new melody would be formed.
Because to Shota, making music is the most simplest thing on Earth. All anyone had to do was just listen.
Rating: G
Summary: Yasuda Shota finds it very easy to write a piece of melody. All he had to do was just listen.
Author's Notes: I'm starting with Yasu's drabble :)! I blame Dancer in the Dark for this. Wrote it as soon as I finished watching the film. It's a bit short though :(
Yasuda Shota hears music everywhere. Sometimes he would sit on his bed, his guitar on his lap, pen and paper in front of him. The sliding window next to the bed would be open and the morning sunlight would spill in, casting a warm glow throughout the room.
Shota would close his eyes as he sits cross-legged on his bed. He would close his eyes and listen; listen as the birds sing their song, as the leaves danced in the breeze. He would listen to the steady beat of the traffic, the hum of engines, the chattering of people.
He would take it all in, pause for a few moments and then he’ll begin to write. The natural, unprocessed sound that he’d heard, he would convert them into musical notes; writing them down one by one on the score sheet. The notes would all flow smoothly, as if this was the most natural thing in the world to Shota. And when he finished, he would step back and take a look at it; strum the notes out on his guitar; tweak it here and there and a new melody would be formed.
Because to Shota, making music is the most simplest thing on Earth. All anyone had to do was just listen.