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Those first notes grabbed Itachi's attention in a very unpleasant way at first-it was too early for lessons. His hands tightened on his cup as he turned his head, irritated, to listen.

Of course some idiot would wander into the piano room and play with it. Why not? It was just sitting there.

And his quiet, his calm, would be smashed to pieces while he listened to some kid-yes, kid-crash though the 'sounds' a piano could make.

Itachi braced himself, ready for the barrage of unpleasantness he was sure would come.

But it didn't. And as the scales ended and the sound shifted into song-and not just 'a song,' but a melody that was being played by fingers which had, Itachi assumed from the sound, played it before-Itachi let out a long, slow breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

He lingered a moment, head tilted, staring into nothing, cup in hand, just listening. What a wonderful, wonderful change from the lessons he had had to sit through the day before.

Gods, he loved the piano.

The sound was muffled, though, and he felt that it paid little tribute to the clear, tinkling sounds a piano could produce. While the music room had lovely acoustics, his office was still lacking and the sound didn't carry through the walls very well-which was something he liked during the lessons but not so much at this moment.

He stood and walked from his office, holding his cup to his chest, slip down the hall to the door outside the piano room. Here the sound was better but Itachi's need for clear sound cried out at how close he was.

A players privacy...

Be damned. He slipped the door open and slid inside, just inside the door frame, and breathed deeply at the sounds-clear and melodic and lovely.