[ The exhaustion from Ciraiwei took some time to leech out of Jake's bones, but that was nothing compared to the lingering tension from their final efforts there. It took some time for joking to start feeling normal again, dripping down through time until laughs could finish robustly rather than the awkward trailing off that came with remembering.
It's during one such laugh that Jake flips through his mental rolodex, settling on Yujin's name. ]
Hey, buddy. I was just thinking about you. Doing anything right now?
[It isn't new, sitting with his grief. By now the feeling is almost like an old friend, rather than the shroud it was in his youth. But Ciraiwei-- the losses they'd felt there, in spite of all they'd saved-- was very, very different.
Yujin, too, has been doing all he can to break the tension of the exhaustion and what-if's. Without much else to do on station, that's translated to a Lot of reading, which is right when Jake catches him.]
Hello, Jake. [There's a smile in his voice-- it is always nice to be thought of. Yujin dogears the page he's on and sets his book back down on his desk.] No, not much, really. Did you have something in mind?
[ It's hard to miss that shroud in the air, even when you were oh-so-determinedly trying to. It's hard for Jake to pinpoint why, some mix of for Finn and for me smashing together in his head.
It felt easier, talking to Yujin. Distracting, but also simply pleasant. There was a lot to be said for the mollifying calmness of pleasant. ]
Sure did. [ Jake announces, drawing his bow across the strings of his (well, the ship's) viola for flourish. ] You know your way to the music room? I got some stuff for you to check out, as promised.
I'm intrigued. [He is, genuinely. He's good at distracting himself; he can set the weight of Ciraiwei aside to spend a few moments with a friend.] I'll see you there shortly.
[And without much ado, he's there: in hakama and haori, rather than the suit he'd been in when they'd all been so unceremoniously deposited onto their last planet. He figures he deserves the comfort, so he's opted for Japanese dress for the majority of the last few days.
As if the automatic doors didn't audibly slide open, and as if he weren't dropping in on a dog who'd sniff him out half a mile away, Yujin knocks on the edge of the doorframe.]
[ The new look merits a quick once over from Jake, settled on the ground with a collection of albums fished out from the Ximusic room collection. It was hardly everything Jake wanted, but there were some gems within it. Most of them, ones that Jake had never heard, but were nevertheless a good representative sample for the man's education.
A record player sits at Jake's left. To his right, a viola. ]
There you are, pal. [ Jake says, eyes shifting right back to the records. ] I was thinking we start with something you're a little more familiar with and then ease into the new stuff. You said you liked jazz, right?
[The sight of Jake among the records-- as well as the thought that someone has actually put in the effort to curate these selections, just for him-- puts Yujin at ease.]
That I do. [he says, taking a cross-legged seat to Jake's right. He's seen the newfangled answer to a gramophone by now, so the record player doesn't phase him. Rather, what he's more interested in is the viola. A nostalgic look crosses his face as his fingers brush the strings; the touch is too gentle for the instrument to do more than hum the very suggestions of notes.]
[ It's hard to miss the way Yujin lingers over the instrument, capturing his attention even more than the music that slowly starts to drip out of the record player like warm honey. That was the beautiful thing about jazz; it could be loud and brash, or slow and easy. This selection was the latter, a muted trumpet sounding out a lonely melody, slowly joined by a rattling snare and thudding bassline. ]
Oh c'mon, it's nothing. [ He picks up the viola, tucking it under his chin with practiced ease before remembering that fleeting touch. ] Do you play?
No, not at all. [chuckles Yujin, just a little self-effacing:] I haven't the gift at all. But listening to a well-played violin, now... that is a treat.
[He sits back, enjoying the meandering sound of the record and watching Jake with a relaxed expression on his face.]
A dear friend would play for me all the time, many years ago.
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voice; un: jtd (a few days post-ciraiwei)
It's during one such laugh that Jake flips through his mental rolodex, settling on Yujin's name. ]
Hey, buddy. I was just thinking about you. Doing anything right now?
no subject
Yujin, too, has been doing all he can to break the tension of the exhaustion and what-if's. Without much else to do on station, that's translated to a Lot of reading, which is right when Jake catches him.]
Hello, Jake. [There's a smile in his voice-- it is always nice to be thought of. Yujin dogears the page he's on and sets his book back down on his desk.] No, not much, really. Did you have something in mind?
no subject
It felt easier, talking to Yujin. Distracting, but also simply pleasant. There was a lot to be said for the mollifying calmness of pleasant. ]
Sure did. [ Jake announces, drawing his bow across the strings of his (well, the ship's) viola for flourish. ] You know your way to the music room? I got some stuff for you to check out, as promised.
> action
[And without much ado, he's there: in hakama and haori, rather than the suit he'd been in when they'd all been so unceremoniously deposited onto their last planet. He figures he deserves the comfort, so he's opted for Japanese dress for the majority of the last few days.
As if the automatic doors didn't audibly slide open, and as if he weren't dropping in on a dog who'd sniff him out half a mile away, Yujin knocks on the edge of the doorframe.]
Now, what are we checking out, Jake?
no subject
A record player sits at Jake's left. To his right, a viola. ]
There you are, pal. [ Jake says, eyes shifting right back to the records. ] I was thinking we start with something you're a little more familiar with and then ease into the new stuff. You said you liked jazz, right?
no subject
That I do. [he says, taking a cross-legged seat to Jake's right. He's seen the newfangled answer to a gramophone by now, so the record player doesn't phase him. Rather, what he's more interested in is the viola. A nostalgic look crosses his face as his fingers brush the strings; the touch is too gentle for the instrument to do more than hum the very suggestions of notes.]
Thank you for taking the time to do this, Jake.
no subject
Oh c'mon, it's nothing. [ He picks up the viola, tucking it under his chin with practiced ease before remembering that fleeting touch. ] Do you play?
no subject
[He sits back, enjoying the meandering sound of the record and watching Jake with a relaxed expression on his face.]
A dear friend would play for me all the time, many years ago.