Jin was loathe to admit it, but every time he played the bridge of this little melody, he was accosted by the same warm, swelling, fluttering feeling he got when Ahn-Bo-ah smiled at him. It wasn’t exactly the same, because nothing could make him radiate as much warmth and happiness as his friend actually did live and in person, but it was pretty close. Every note was imbued with the weight of his sentiments though and it was a slightly shy sound, morose at times, but giddily upbeat at others. Jin didn’t know it yet but one day he’d come to recognize it and think of it as a mirror into what his days at Maho were like: sunny, bright, sometimes a little stormy, and much too short.
Like most artists or musicians, he lost track of whatever else was going on around him when he played. There were not lyrics to this particular melody yet but his voice hummed along as Jin made up a few nonsense words to accompany it. He had just gotten to the finicky part when he heard a small noise that caught his attention by the door. Peeking in was Ahn-Bo-ah, and Jin paused immediately, face warm. “Mianhe,” he said softly. “I didn’t realize you were there.” He shifted slightly in his seat.
It was still a warm feeling of welcome that tugged him towards his friend however, even if he was a little self-conscious, and so Jin moved over on the bench to make room for Ahn-Bo and gestured for him to come in and sit. “Sensei Ootori will have my skin if you let the frost in,” he cautioned, but he wasn’t particularly worried. The floors here were heated by a series of charms that almost mimicked the ondol systems from back home. “That song doesn’t really have a name,” he responded, tuning back to the keys and playing a little scale. Jin wasn’t sure if ‘different’ was meant to be a good thing or not, so he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask. Instead, he let his fingers trill over the keys for a second and then played the beginning notes to a version of Arirang he remembered his mother singing to Myeong once. He smiled as Ahn-Bo settled in beside him. “Have you ever heard this song?” he asked quietly, replaying the same few notes.
Like most artists or musicians, he lost track of whatever else was going on around him when he played. There were not lyrics to this particular melody yet but his voice hummed along as Jin made up a few nonsense words to accompany it. He had just gotten to the finicky part when he heard a small noise that caught his attention by the door. Peeking in was Ahn-Bo-ah, and Jin paused immediately, face warm. “Mianhe,” he said softly. “I didn’t realize you were there.” He shifted slightly in his seat.
It was still a warm feeling of welcome that tugged him towards his friend however, even if he was a little self-conscious, and so Jin moved over on the bench to make room for Ahn-Bo and gestured for him to come in and sit. “Sensei Ootori will have my skin if you let the frost in,” he cautioned, but he wasn’t particularly worried. The floors here were heated by a series of charms that almost mimicked the ondol systems from back home. “That song doesn’t really have a name,” he responded, tuning back to the keys and playing a little scale. Jin wasn’t sure if ‘different’ was meant to be a good thing or not, so he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask. Instead, he let his fingers trill over the keys for a second and then played the beginning notes to a version of Arirang he remembered his mother singing to Myeong once. He smiled as Ahn-Bo settled in beside him. “Have you ever heard this song?” he asked quietly, replaying the same few notes.
![[Image: HjIYkam.png]](https://i.imgur.com/HjIYkam.png)
* Jin takes potions and enchantments at times to give his voice a persuasive quality.
His performances, or even a simple conversation, can sometimes suggest thoughts
and ideas to his audiences.