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Towards the end of the second song and all throughout the third, she felt the tell-tale prickle at the back of her neck. The one that most got when they got that sense of someone else watching them. Often times, it would be true. But Tenten chose to set that information aside. There was no telling how long they could have been there before she realized it. If they had meant any harm, they would have attempted something by now. And she was not going to punish some innocent bystander who had been drawn in by the music -- because there could have been no other reason for them to even be here so early in the morning.

Instead, she continued playing the sad and soulful melody -- her mother's favorite song -- pouring a little bit of her own emotions into it. Because that was music was: and expression of emotions and experiences through sound. Beautiful sound through something as simple as hitting a series of strings placed side by side in a wooden case on legs. A simple structure, and yet it made all the difference. She had heard all kinds of instruments play in her lifetime. But nothing was quite as entrancing and enticing as the piano. If this stranger shared that passion, Tenten was certainly not going to keep them from enjoying it.

A fourth song followed. Then she began on the fifth. And the young woman would have continued for at least another two songs, but a quick glance at her watch told Tenten that time was ticking and that she could not spend the entire day playing -- there was still a bit of reading to do before -- despite wanting to. And there was a matter of addressing her unexpected visitor as well.

"So... did you enjoy the show?" A slight turn of her head was all that Tenten gave. Not far enough to actually see behind her, but enough to show that she was addressing them and not talking to herself.