The notes drifted from the cello in his professional hands, the music it's created sounding more beautiful then anything she'd ever heard. She stood a few feet away, gawking at the gorgeous man seated on the bench atop the hill. His eyes were closed, one of his hands bandaged and his silk black was hair falling over his shoulders, loose. She'd come here day after day, night after night, looking for him. And every time, he was there, playing; a different song each time. She had been observing him for quite some time, but never had the courage to go up to him and say anything. Hell, she didn't even know his name. Nor did he knows hers, for that matter. But today was different. She would march right up to him, look him dead in the eye and say "Hello," and hopefully get through the greeting with ease. Hopefully. So, she waits. Not long, for he's there a moment later. (She realized he comes at certain times, leaves at certain times, and comes back at certain times. She was embarrassed that she'd memorized his odd schedule.) He sits, pulling his cello out of the case. He stares at the sky for a moment – another thing she realized he frequently did – before silently staring down at the instrument. She takes in a deep breath, and her feet are moving before her mind processes anything. She stands behind him, her mouth open but no words coming out. His eyes opened and drifted up to her. Curiosity gleamed in his dark eyes.

"Hello." He said, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

"H-Hello." She stuttered, cheeks heating up. Oh, God, I can't do this. "I-I'm, uh...Mi-Michelle." A small smile cracked on his face. Oh, dear Lord.

"My name is Hagi. It's nice to meet you, Michelle." He murmured, dropping his gaze back to the cello. "Do you watch me play often?" She jumped, heart skipping a beat.

"Oh, uh," She laughed awkwardly. "Only-only sometimes. B-Because, you're really good, and uh.." The music starts, silencing her.

"I've seen you." He says softly. "Every day."

"Oh, uh, really?" She mentally smacked herself.

"Really." He pauses. "You're not that hard to miss." She's not sure how to reply. "Not many people here have blond hair, I mean."

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "Oh, uh, yeah. I noticed that." She cleared her throat, kicking some dirt on the ground. The music stops.

"Do you know how to play?" Her face grew a deep scarlet. Oh, she knew. She'd learned only because she thought it would impress him if they ever met.

"A-A little." She squeaked. His eyes sparkled up at her.

"You don't have to be nervous." Her heart fluttered, rising to her throat. "Here, sit." He rose, towering over her. She gaped for a second before shuffling into the spot. She grasped his cello carefully, marveling it.

"It's beautiful." She said softly.

"Yes." He replied, leaning down in front of her, now at eye level. She stuttered, blushing. "Relax." He whispered, taking her hand in his and moving it to the correct place on the instrument. I think my heart just stopped. Gee, that's a good impression, fainting when we first meet. She cursed herself. "This is A." He snapped her back to reality.

"I-I know." His eyebrow rose slightly.

"Ah." He nodded. "Play something for me." She nodded, face flushed and looked down, thoughtful. Oh, playing something he usually plays would be impressive, wouldn't it? Or, would he think it was weird? After a moment, she began to play Bach's 5th Suite Prelude, although it wasn't as perfectly executed as his playing had been. As she finished, she kept her eyes glued to the ground, the pebble now more interesting then anything else. "Michelle." He said gently.

"Hum?" She peeked up. He was staring. "I-I, uh.." His hand was on her cheek the next second, caressing it.

"Hm." He mumbled, thoughtfully.

"H-Hagi? Is something wrong?" She asked. The instrument disappeared in a flash, her now leaning in front of him on the ground and his arms around her. She froze, arms snapped at her sides.

"You're wonderful." He murmured in her ear. And then, he was gone.