I went back into Manbun's dark apartment. A few rays of moonlight trickled through the window above the piano, collecting on the floor in a quiet pool of silver. The creaking of the wooden boards under my feet made the figure on the couch shift.

"You forgot something?"

"No I... I think I should stay."

No shouts, no protests, not even a mumble. I stood in the middle of the living room, looking down at Manbun. He was a complete mess. I don’t know how he thought he could cope on his own. It must have been some sort of misplaced pride or something. Not that I had a right to judge, I guess.

"You don't want to remove your coat?" I asked.

"I'm cold."

I thought all that sticky blood couldn't have helped, but I let it go for now. To make myself feel useful, I went to the kitchen to prepare some tea. I found the kettle on the counter, and some tea leaves in a cupboard. Five minutes later, I put a hot cup on the small table by the couch. I sat on the piano bench, my elbows on my knees. Manbun finally changed position on the cushions to return my stare more easily. His right eye would be swollen tomorrow.

"Won't you play something for me?" His tone was probably more sincere than he would have liked it. He was getting tired.

"It's late... Your neighbours won't appreciate."

"They'll love it."

It amazed me how quickly Manbun could go from zoning me out to casually coaxing me into playing the piano for him. What sort of confusion reigned in his mind?

"I don't know what to play."

"Play that song... 'All I ask of you'. You know, from the musical."

His request surprised me. I wouldn't have guessed he was the kind of guy who was into musicals.

"You like that song?" I wondered.

"No, but you do."

Well, that was true. "I don't know how to play it."

"Just give it a go."

If there was anything that could ease the strained awkwardness between us, then it was worth trying. I reoriented myself to face the piano, turned it on and lowered the volume so I wouldn't disturb anyone. I pressed a few keys and hummed a couple of measures, trying to find the melody. For a few minutes, this task kept me absorbed and Manbun remained silent. I thought he had drifted off to sleep when he said, “I know you’ve been avoiding me.”

I froze at his words. He waited for me to confirm or deny his statement, but I kept quiet, tentative notes struck on the piano punctuating our thoughts. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he resumed. “At first, I thought you were just pretending not to remember me. When I realised you weren’t… it frightened me.”

He chuckled to himself, which made me worry he was losing his mind.

"You probably forgot that too, but for a while we used to have the same piano teacher. I'm two years older than you, and I was a bit more advanced. One day, she decided that we should practice a duet together for a recital, and she prepared an arrangement of this song. I was mortified when she told me. I don't know where the idea came from..."

"I was the one who asked her," I said, cutting him mid-sentence. He stayed silent after that, so I apologized, "Sorry."

"No... keep going."

I took a deep breath. It was strange, when he told me that memory, things started coming back to me. Fleeting gleams of light illuminating a dark maze. Images appeared in my mind and disappeared again. I tried to grasp them, follow the thread and see where it would lead me.

"I don't think you noticed me back then, but your class was right after mine. When it was time for me to leave, and for you to come in, I would try to see what partitions you were carrying. They always looked like something really difficult. If I noticed you had started something new, without fail, the week after I would ask the teacher when I would be able to play the same thing. Maybe that's why she had the idea of having us do a duet. She told me to choose something I wanted to play, and I said this."

I was doing good progress on the music. I didn't look up when Manbun sat on the bench, at my left. He picked up the thread of our little tale for me, "Do you remember what happened at the recital? You were really, really nervous. At some point, you had to turn the page, but you were shaking so much you made all the sheets fall on the floor. Everybody started laughing. I really regretted agreeing to do this for a second. But we kept going; we knew the piece by heart anyway. That's when I realised how amazing you were. I don’t know exactly what it was, but it gave me goosebumps. Even though your technique was not perfect, you really gave it your all... I couldn't believe that little brat beside me was able to create something so powerful. By the time we were done, everybody was weeping. Our teacher, our moms, even your dad... He was really proud of you, you know?"

Now, I remembered. This had been the last time my father had seen me at a recital. We'd learned of his illness just a few months before. At that point, we realised we would never get another moment like this one. The year after, he was gone. "You know," Manbun continued, "everything you do, you just always give it your all. Not only the piano, but when you started writing songs too... The emotions, it's like they take possession of you. When you're happy, you're really happy. When you're sad, there's nothing else in the world but your sadness. At least, that's how you used to be."

Manbun was now playing to accompany my efforts, matching my halting tempo. It did feel familiar, like something we might have done before. When we finished, I rested my hands on my laps. One lost memory, recovered. Somehow, it puzzled me even more. I turned toward Manbun. His coat was disgusting; how could he keep it on? I gently grabbed his collar and pulled the zip fastener, letting that piece of rag fall down his arms. His t-shirt underneath was even bloodier. I carefully brushed the tip of my fingers on his left shoulder, on the spot from which it seemed most of the blood had been pouring. “You should get that checked,” I said.

He shook his head, avoiding my eyes. He didn’t look nearly as beefy when he wasn’t pretending. It didn’t make sense. That memory, it was a good one, wasn’t it? Manbun and I really had been friends. However, it didn’t match the current state of things. His bitterness, my distrust…

"Why am I afraid of you?" I whispered. He turned toward me, staring at the empty space between us. His cold hand slid over mine on the bench and he lifted his gaze to meet mine. "You're afraid of yourself." His attention was caught by my t-shirt. I was still wearing Daniel’s, which was a bit too big for me, but he couldn’t possibly have noticed?

He pulled his hand away and got up abruptly, "You should have taken that taxi." Anger seeped into his words. He stormed away in the corridor, "You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the couch."

"But you're..."

"If you don't, I swear I'll go sleep outside."

A door slammed; it must have been from the bathroom. So that was it.