The First Step

Audi was a decent student. She always put 110% of effort into her work, and if her grades weren't always the best, it was because her meager life experience caused some things to go over her head, rather than from lack of trying. Speaking up about the fact that she didn't understand something - or rather, speaking up at all - was difficult, and so, in class she usually just kept quiet and followed teachers' orders to the best of her ability and without question. It didn't always work out in her favor, as she could come off as passive and frankly, not the sharpest tack in the drawer.

This was her shot at fixing that.

She found herself liking music a whole lot, and the music teacher was... relatively non-threatening, so she chose him as the first one to approach. Still not sure what exactly was she going to do, yet convinced this was the right decision, Audi turned the doorknob to the music room and pushed the door ajar. Unfortunately, the moment she tentatively poked her head in, her determination began to wither away. It lasted long enough for her to step over the threshold, and then the floor seemed to become incredibly fascinating and she froze in place right next to the door, staring down, hands folded in her lap uneasily. Well... what next?

Denskith spun a wooden pencil in his hand, glaring down at the paperwork below. Grading time. He knew it was necessary, and yet . . . Was it really 'fair' to grade his students based upon their singing ability? All who participated in the assignment clearly tried their best. No two songs were alike, either-- there were dirges, nursery rhymes, and even just two words. How could he judge 'fairly'? He wished he could give them all A's. . . .

The teacher sighed grimly, setting down the pencil at last while writing nothing in the meantime. Putting off the grading for yet another time, Denskith got up from his seat and headed towards the door. Perhaps a walk would clear his mind-- yeah, right--

A monster-- rat-person-- student was standing in front of the doorway. How long had she been there? He hadn't heard her. Hopefully for not too long . . .
She was the jazz improve singer. A smile crept onto his face as he walked over towards the odd creature. Yes. So long as he remembered her singing, he would be okay.

"Audi, correct?" Denskith prompted, smiling lopsidedly. "Did you want to talk to me?" He hadn't the faintest idea why; she was doing just fine in the class.

The seconds seemed to drag out forever as she stood, staring down, wriggling her toes to kill time. She had not looked up once, but she knew he was in there, she could hear him sigh and move some papers around. Was he making her wait? She didn't mind, actually, that was good. It gave her time to think about what would she say after he actually found a moment to speak with her. Plus, it was reassuring in a way to be put in her place; being talked to as an equal was a frightening prospect.

She flinched visibly when he said her name, a cold realization that she still did hadn't figured out what to do creeping down her spine all the way down to the tip of her tail. As she briefly glanced up at the man her expression showed nothing but the will to be anywhere but there... but she managed to force herself to nod in response.

And that was all response she could give at the moment, standing still like a statue, her gaze dropping to the floor again.

She wanted to talk but only nodded in response . . . This was going to be an interesting conversation. Did he somehow frighten her to be this way? Audi seemed to fear him. Why would anyone fear him?-- besides the obvious, of course: horrible scarring along his neck, face, and arm; his towering height that forced him to bend down slightly, even now; the possibility that he might accidentally kill her at any moment. . . ! She had every reason to be frightened of him, every reason. It scared him; no question that it scared the students, as well.

"Would you like to sit down?" the music teacher eventually asked, his lopsided grin amazingly still on, although faltering slightly. After a polite pause for an answer that would probably not come, Denskith walked over towards the piano, pulling out its bench and carrying it gingerly towards the rat girl-- don't think about it, don't think about it, don't make it awkward-- too late.

"Here we are." He attempted to reform the smile once in front of her once more, the bench placed behind his student for convenient, erm, sit-age. Yes. Denskith merely stood in front of her, stepping back a little ways in case intimidation was the problem-- which it probably was, I mean, look at him. "Now: what is it you wanted to talk about, Audi?"

Audi observed the man's movements carefully, but no answer came from her. Truth be told, she felt tiny enough standing next to him, let alone sitting down... but if he wanted her to, well... he was just being kind. And so, when the bench was placed behind her, she bounced back to land her bottom on it lightly. Her tail curled around her and fell to the front to coil around her ankles in a nervous manner.

The teacher seemed... uneasy? It was probably because he didn't want to talk to her. She swallowed hard and tried to think of a response. Of course, she wanted to run, but now that she'd wasted so much of Mr. Denskith's time already, it would be extremely disrespectful to leave without saying what she came here to say. Reaching deep within for some reserves of determination, Audi cleared her throat. Okay. She could do it.

"Me." she choked out.

Aaand... that's it. The way she now peered at the teacher was pleading, almost begging in a way; surely he was great enough to understand every bit of worry and anxiety that she'd poured into that word, see through the reasons for them, and provide a solution. Surely. She had faith in that.

He waited for a proper explanation, anything else from the rat-- monster-- student. But, there was nothing. Audi seemed content with her single word. As desperate as she made it sound, Denskith couldn't understand why-- she was doing well in the class, usually showed up, sang some lovely jazz . . . She seemed so disheartened by it all. Why?

"Audi." He repeated the name sincerely, firmly; he had learned from his own schooling experience just how much it meant for a teacher to remember one's name, especially one as unique as his. He also knew how much it hurt to be insecure, to not know if you had someone's approval, waiting for that opportunity to ask but cringing for the answer--! In a way, Audi was a lot like him. Before the serum, anyways.

"Audi, you're doing well in my class," he reassured, bending his knees so his face barely hovered over her furry one. "There's no need to worry." He knew he should say more than that, how he knew where she was coming from . . . but, in truth, he didn't; insecurity came from many places, and his only came from one, two of those. Audi's reason to doubt herself could easily come from somewhere else, and it would only hurt her to assume.

"Labeling yourself as the problem is a bit too broad. I need to know how it is 'you'." He didn't believe for a second it was her, regardless. She seemed nice, whenever he saw her in the hallways. Perhaps too nice.

She placed her hands in her lap, one on top of the other. A warm feeling crept into her chest at his encouraging opinion and her ears perked up slightly. So he thought she was doing well... but before she could give in to the comfort, his next words made her tense up noticeably. She did not think she was the problem. But... was she? If not her, then what...? She... didn't know. Honestly, she came to him in hopes he would tell her.

So, that was that.

An overwhelming desire to jump off the bench and run, run away to somewhere - anywhere else - flooded her. Just... somewhere dark, where she would again be just a shadow, living off scraps, anonymous and thoughtless... an animal. Trying to be human wasn't working out, clearly...

Audi slumped in her seat, fur rising on its ends slightly, and she glanced around nervously, much like a trapped animal who wanted to escape but had no energy left to struggle. Finally, seeing no way out, her agitated gaze settled on Denskith again and she sniffed, whiskers twitching.

"I don't fit in." she said quietly, almost whispering, half not wanting him to hear.

. . . What?
Denskith did, in fact, hear what Audi said-- it sounded impossible, though. For her to not fit in with the other monsters-- freaks-- students sounded impossible. She should automatically fit in, shouldn't she? She was a true monster-- 'wonder,' wonder was a nice and safe word to use, wonder . . . The various 'wonder's of AALC should have made her feel at home. The teacher had seen lizard people before in the hallways, not to mention a furry cat walking on two legs . . . Wonders never ceased here. Why should they now?

He didn't fit in here, not her. She had it backwards-- but, he was being selfish again. He really needed to stop that; thinking about himself in relation to the student was all right-- not in a romantic way, heaven forbid-- but to be able to relate to the student in some way was good. To show them that he understood what they were going through in some miniscule way . . . That was part of the job, wasn't it? Then again, Richard seemed to have a pretty good handle on the student drama; maybe Denskith should just send her his way-- she had asked him, though, not the vampire. This was his problem-- her problem, really-- point is: the music teacher had to do this. No one else.

"I don't really fit in, either," he eventually admitted after the long pause of thought, awkwardly smiling in an attempt to lighten the harsh truth. "Not many do." That was a lie; most, in fact, did. Audi didn't need to know that. "But, its the little things that matter." The teacher didn't even know what he was saying anymore-- maybe he should take her to Richard after all. He wished he had this sort of conversation when he was in high school.

"Do you understand?" Denskith hoped so-- if not, then she was as lost as he was. What else could he say, though?

As the silence dragged on, Audi found herself wringing out her fingers, the urge to hide growing within her. This was a mistake, wasn't it? Just... a huge mistake. Her problems were so petty and stupid, even he didn't know what to tell her. She parted her lips slightly and drew in a breath to spit out a 'sorry' and scram, like she never was there at all, when suddenly he spoke and she crammed her mouth shut again.

The teacher... not fitting in himself? Well, he was odd and definitely didn't look like other humans. Her gaze flickered over his scarred side... and she smiled. She remembered one of her brothers having similar marks on his forearms, devoid of fur, burned in one reaction or another. Maybe that was why she chose Denskith to be her confidant... She gave him a slightly more hopeful look. Maybe he was an alchemist too? No, definitely not, that was a silly thought. But...

The ratgirl sighed, then her brow creased as she thought his words over again. It took her a moment, and try as she might, the meaning of 'little things' that were apparently what mattered eluded her. Finally, she inclined her head and looked up at him reluctantly, shaking her head, ashamed that again something was outside of her realm of understanding. She swallowed.

"Sorry." she whispered in a trembling voice.

"Y-you don't have to apologize!" Denskith quickly stammered out, flustered by the seemingly good progress! and then, a decent back to Audi's meekness. At least she wasn't looking at the floor anymore. "I . . . erm." Who was he kidding, though? The teacher was just as awkward as the student-- he had nothing he could give her. It was a miracle he could teach in the first place.

He couldn't just leave her like this, though; the more and more he 'talked' to Audi, the more he related to her. She was like him in high school. High school was hell. The generation gap between the experimented students and left-alone teachers was simply too much: if a student wanted to beat-up a kid, then they were allowed to beat up the kid in the middle of the hallway. If a student had any problem, be it social or, well, otherwise, the teachers could offer no advice; they were too scared to be stuck with the monsters longer than they had to. It was a miracle they could teach in the first place. They would have had to be paid a lot.

The result was simple, regardless: the teachers never offered advice. Students were forced to console their parents (also frightened), their appropriate gangs (most would simply offer drugs), or the white coats. And the white coats, although the best option, would do it too willingly, if only to have one more monster fully in their grasp.

Denskith was in the Resistance; he was lucky. Anyone else would have told him to shut up with a gun in his face.

The teacher realized he had not talked for a while (again!) and rushed into his next sentence. "It's difficult to be different . . . but, we all are. I think." He really wasn't sure anymore. "I mean . . . here at AALC, we all are unique. Wonders." Don't say 'monsters,' don't say 'monsters' . . .

". . . Better?" the music teacher asked helplessly, not sure if he was making matters better or worse.

She almost said 'sorry' again, to apologize for unwanted apologizing, but that would be going against his wishes, wouldn't it? Or would it be okay in that case? Audi sniffed unsurely, but since the teacher seemed to lapse into thought again, she figured she would keep silent as not to disturb him.

One eye white, one black, were glued to Denskith's face, searching it for something that would bring light to what he had said. She wanted to understand. That was it, basically. She wanted to understand...

When the teacher finally spoke again, Audi perked up to listen attentively. Different... Her gaze sunk to the floor again, not in sadness, but in thought, and she chewed her lower lip as she mulled over his words. 'We all are unique'... Maybe, but... none of them stood out in the way she did. Even the blasted yellow kitten seemed to be fitting in better than her, pulling off the whole human act with aplomb. Heck, even the large spotted cat, completely animal-looking, seemed to feel more like the right person in the right place than her...

She gave a half-hearted shrug, looking more dejected again. "I'm different-different." How? It was another thing that she did not understand.

'Different-different'? Well, at least she didn't seem as sad anymore, but . . . really, did she have to keep sounding like him in high school? No one else had useless, dangly legs; no one else was so weak physically, comparatively; no one . . . No one else--! But, he had to shove that out of his mind, he couldn't think of those things, not here, he didn't want to break down in front of a student, he would never live to . . . regret it? make it up? The phrase escaped him. Regardless, the teacher was left understanding Audi's situation all too well. All too well.

What could he say to a furry-- don't think about it-- version of himself? That things were going to get better? Because, that would be lying. And, he didn't want to lie to a fu-- alternate version of himself.

"You remind me of . . . well, ME," Denskith eventually admitted with a forced chuckled and crescent grin, the scars seeming to deepen as he spoke. "When I was your age, at least. I was 'different-different,' too. Still am." The man peeked over at the polished piano over to the side of the room. "It took a while, but . . ." His voice trailed. 'But,' what? He couldn't think of an optimistic truth to tell. His eyes focused more and more onto the grand piano. . . .

". . . Hey." His smile suddenly became genuine. "You want to sing?" Because singing . . . Singing solved everything. He may not know the answers to Audi's questions, but maybe the music did. No-- he knew it did.

Fiddling with her fingers, Audi sat there uneasily, waiting for him to answer. It took him a moment to ponder over each word, and she was incredibly thankful he would put in all that effort just for her... Even if she failed to comprehend his wisdom well enough for it to actually help her, it was a good decision to choose the music teacher over the other options.

The next thing he said though made Audi's heart sink. Her eyes opened wide enough to appear almost perfectly round and her ears stood up as she gave him an expression of perfect disbelieving shock. Remind him of--? But... how? Her situation was so different from everybody else's, how could somebody as superior as him compare himself to somebody like her...? She blinked owlishly, but before she could voice her concerns, he asked about singing.

Singing. It was such a human thing to do. Ratfolk had their human voices, of course, but that's what those were - human voices, something that was of use only when communicating with humans. Her people didn't sing, or even talk between themselves. It was simply something they never even considered doing. And now, she was being asked to sing...

Like a human. She was being asked to act like a human. That was it.

The dazzling revelation made her head spin and she felt dizzy, but she managed to shakily slide off the bench and nod, trembling slightly. She wasn't yet sure what to make of it, but it felt like she was that little bit closer to understanding.

Denskith received Audi's nod with enthusiasm, bounding off towards the piano and rolling it closer to Audi-- and, her seat was already the piano stool, so it worked out perfectly. He cracked his knuckles and sat down next to the rat person, attempting not to stare at the monster-- his student. She was a good student, and he needed to prove that to her.

"Let's see . . . You sung jazz improv last time. Do you like jazz?" he asked politely, although he assumed to already know the answer. Who wouldn't love jazz?-- the manipulation of various sounds and syllables was simply genius. Shee be do boop a dee a dee . . . No lyrics meant no commands-- meant no danger. Genius! He wished he thought of it sooner.

The music teacher struck a cord on the black and white keys-- a minor seventh, if his ears didn't mistake him. Which, they never did.

"Ready?" he asked with a wide lop-sided grin.

She was shaking so much, her bony knees bumped against each other painfully. Relieved when she saw the teacher rolling the piano towards her, she scrambled back onto the stool. She had a feeling that if she had to walk, her legs would give in under her.

Her ears fell back slightly as she glanced up at the man. Did she like jazz? She wasn't sure. Scat was definitely better than the alternative - singing with actual lyrics - and that was the biggest reason why she chose it for the assignment. All music sounded strange to her ears.

The noise of the piano made her flinch slightly, but she tried to ignore it, instead choosing to focus on her determination to... to... to what? To not fail to meet his expectations? To not fail to meet any expectations... Audi sighed tensely, then gave a tentative nod to his question. At least now she knew what was expected of her... and she could work with that.

Denskith nearly skipped out of his seat at Audi's agreement, not noticing her pensive sigh-- and, why would she be pensive? This was singing-- singing would set him free, her free! Singing released all worries and cares from their grasps!

"Let us begin, then," he grinned brightly, the teacher's entire demeanor shifting to that of a child in a candy store-- a music store. He peddled a few random keys on the piano; he was no pianist, but he knew how to play. Not everyone wanted to sing a cappella, after all-- it became so tiring to sing without an accompaniment. Why, they needed more instrumentalists here! A saxophonist first-off, then a trombone player, a bass trombone, a line of trumpets, a drum set . . . Where was he? Ah, yes: a cord. Playing with B was always fun.

"You can join in whenever you wish~" Denskith hummed, then jumping straight into the beat. He couldn't help himself!

"Shee be do boop a DEE a DEE-- dee-dee did-dilly-bop a wheeeEEEeee~" He sang up the register and back down, hitting the low bass range towards the end of the 'e'.

Despite all her doubt and heavy-heartedness, Denskith's enthusiasm rubbed off on her a little - his energy was contagious. She smiled faintly as she watched the teacher's fingers press the piano keys, wondering how exactly did it work. Was it magic? Human magic, definitely.

Audi's fur rose on its ends a little when he said it'd be up to her to decide when to start. Right. Yes, okay, she was supposed to act human, humans made decisions for themselves. Okay...

But his voice was just so beautiful, so superior in every way, that when she actually tried to join in all she managed to squeeze out was a weak squeak. Immediately her hands clamped over her mouth and if she could blush, she would. What a joke. Whatever made her think that she actually could pull it off? But... she had to. Clearing her throat, Audi shot another unsure glance at the man and tried again, starting with a gentle hum, attempting to accompany him with well-timed "dum" and "la"s rather than singing in a duet.

All worries simply faded away with the jazz. Denskith was elated at Audi's well-timed harmonizing; she had a good ear. It was to be expected, of course, what with her ears being-- but, then again, he really shouldn't talk about ears being equivalent to hearing, what with his own right ear being sealed but still able to perfectly hear well . . . and, the worries, the thought processes were rushing back, the music fighting it back--!

"Diddily-diddily bop-BEE-bop~"

And, the music won. As always. All thoughts, all cares in the world evaporated away, leaving nothing in its path. There was just the music. There had only been just the music-- no Audi, no mutations, no questions or comparisons . . .

Ten minutes of solid singing. And, he was just beginning.

Audi was focused on fitting her voice in with the music, a crease forming in her brow from the tension, but the fact that Denskith seemed to get lost in the music did not escape her completely. He seemed so happy every time he sung... so elated, like all else did not matter anymore. It made her jealous. She could only wish that the music worked the same for her; from her point of view, it was just another kind of work. Something to put all possible effort into, but not necessarily to be enjoyed.

Soon enough she found herself a little short of breath, panting slightly as she still attempted to keep up, but her notes began to slip until she just had to stop entirely. She folded her hands in her lap, nervously wringing out her fingers and stealing an unsure glance at the teacher. Right, so was that a failure or did she do well? Her tail flicked a bit. Well, since he hadn't scolded her yet, it probably wasn't a complete fiasco, but...

To be honest, the music teacher didn't notice his student dropping out of the music; she was merely one of many, many chords. His fingers now dashed about the grand piano's delicate keys, each one responding well to his touch.

"Zabba, dooby, diddly-diddly . . ."

Denskith forgot that Audi existed; all that was in his mind was music. That was all that mattered, after all. Twenty minutes of singing-- seven minutes after the rat girl's dropping-out-- and the teacher was still at it, still ever at bliss. It seemed too good to be true, though; such sheer joy couldn't be genuine for almost a half-hour, could it? He thought it could, at least. And right then, that was the only opinion that mattered.

Wide eyes watched him as he became completely engrossed in the music, swaying and singing, his hands dancing across the keys. It was... amazing. There was a shadow of a hurt disappointment that he did not even notice her going silent, but... in a way it reminded her of working with her old master, helping him along as much as she could then stepping back to marvel as he worked his magic. Denskith really was similar in that way.

After a moment, though, she began to grow antsy. She shifted in her seat and lifted a hand, hovering it near the teacher in hesitation; would she dare disturb him?
Yes. Yes she would.
Gently, she reached to tug at his clothes, looking up to him pleadingly, but with some tiny spark of confidence flickering in her eyes. "Sir?"

She hoped he didn't mind the intrusion...

"How are you different?"

"Zibby dabby--"

Denskith flinched violently at the tug on his shirt-- no one had interrupted his singing like this before, not even the tutors. His fingers slammed down on an awkward chord, the beautiful music that should have never ended ending at long last. No! The teacher turned towards the rat girl, eyes wide in rage-- but, his anger ceased once processing that yes, this was a student and yes, he was a teacher. And, yes, he did just sing for God-knows how long. His face flushed at the idea, made only worse by Audi's meekness.

"No-- no, it's perfectly all right," the man stammered. Deep down, he really wished he could have just sung on forever, but . . . binge-singing was never good. The last time had lasted for well over a day, and the aftermath . . . Still, the bliss--!

The teacher was confused by her question-- wasn't it obvious? Maybe not for her.
"Well, I'm . . . My legs are abnormally long," he tried to reason, gesturing down to them. Sitting down the piano stool was awkward-- the knees bumped into the bottom of the piano, no matter how much he slunk down. "And, my scarring." Hopefully, he didn't need to point that out.

"I thought it was obvious," he admitted before thinking better of such a comment.

She winced painfully both at his flinch and at the ugly noise the piano made. As she saw his anger, her shoulders hunched and she peered up at him in fear, not knowing what to expect. The relief that washed over her when he calmed down was immense, but she still felt a bit guilty at that apparent crime. Okay, no disturbing Denskith when he's singing. She would remember that.

Her gaze trailed down to his legs. Well, they were pretty long, but... their shape was still innately human. Unlike hers. Not that it was a bad thing, but she just failed to see the problem that his legs apparently were. But, well, since he said they were... Her brow creased in thought and she looked up to his face. The scars... the did stick out, but... She'd seen things much stranger than that.

Audi tilted her head to the side. "You fit in here." she said, in a tone that was curious rather than accusatory. To her, he still seemed to be human - at least by the local standards...

How did she not understand? He was a monster-- more-so than everyone else here. At least they were born that way, while he . . . But, Denskith wasn't going to admit to that. Not yet. Not ever, if possible. How could he make her see without resorting to the truth, though?

"I suppose . . . it comes down to how much you think you fit in," the teacher surmised after several moments, his eyes cast down toward the keyboard. "If you feel comfortable with yourself, then so will others." He smiled sheepishly at Audi "So long as your comfortable in your own skin . . . and, I'm not."

She clearly was: no concealing the tail or fur for her. Then again, that might be too much to ask for.

The teacher went silent, smiling sadly down at the monochrome keys.

She listened, and drew in a rapid breath as his words finally seemed to make everything clear. That made so much sense... she didn't think she fit in all that much, so she didn't. She needed to step up her act, make more of an effort to fit in, and then she would be perceived as such, too. Now everything would be alright!

Ears perking up happily, Audi could not find the words to thank the teacher; and only then did she notice that his mood seemed to be the polar opposite of hers. Immediately her smile fell and she looked up at Denskith with concern. Her own happiness couldn't be contained for long, though, and in one quick movement she jumped up on top of the bench and threw her thin arms around the man's neck to hug him, both to thank him and in an attempt to comfort him. The embrace was soft and friendly, and in a way, Audi seemed to put all of her being into it.

"Maybe you should try." she said quietly.