#nonstarter

Done was spring cleaning, but perhaps it was a little too late - Lunar New Year had long come and passed. For the likes of him off days were a rarity, and more often than not they rarely ever spend those days well. For Zero it was just warm drinks in the harsh climate of New Alaska, and little more.

Due to the fact that New Alaska seemed to need him more than Abel City did, it meant that Zero had to spend a great majority of his days far away from home. And because of that there was little that needed to be done for spring cleaning, aside from a few cobwebs here and there in a corner or two, and the dust which had gathered up in some spots. Still, being a soldier means keeping your quarters, your arms, your everything organized, and Zero made sure of that.

The fact that most of his time was never at home had put a damp on his memory somewhat - his private quarters were also where he kept his gifts and belongings, and he couldn’t help the feeling that something was amiss, that something was deliberately misplaced, moved from their original positions, and this was evident in the way he kept darting his eyes around, looking at everything with an unfounded suspicion.

His paranoia came to an abrupt stop as his eyes fell on the Dreadnought-shaped guitar leaning against the bed. It was a gift from a seven-foot tall alternate of him, on what occasion he could not remember. Zeon had set it aside to properly clean the room but not before meticulously dusting the instrument off, and now that he was done cleaning his eyes suddenly lit up.

“Nope,” he rummaged through the top drawer of his desk, apparently not finding what he was looking for. “Not this one,” he tried the middle drawer. “Not this one either,” he searched the bottom one to no avail.

“Where the hell did I keep it then...?”

Then it clicked and Zeon pounced for his wardrobe. He didn’t wear much except a red Hunter jacket, a white T-shirt and some pair of jeans, all of which seemed universal for all kinds of settings, and a waistcoat for formal occasions. This still left a lot of space, so he figured he could throw the guitar bag in there.

And there he found it, a wide grin appearing on his face as if he was a kid who found his favorite toy beneath a pile of other toys. Out of the bag he fished a handful of fingerpicks. Before long Zeon was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against the wardrobe and the guitar in his lap, one hand moving up and down the fretboard and the other picking the strings in patterns he had learned.

C chord - first the bass string, then the third string, second, first, second, third. Then A minor - bass, third, second, first, second, third. Then a barre F chord, picked in the same pattern at a slightly faster pace.

The smile on Zero’s face grew wider. He loved to play guitar but unfortunately didn’t have much time to practice while away, and now that he was back and playing it in the comforts of home Zeon was happy he didn’t forget much despite lacking practice. 

Next he tried a strumming pattern. Starting with the C chord - a down strum, then another, followed with an upward strum, a down, then up, then down. He repeated the C chord with that pattern - now the whole room was filled with the sounds of guitar strings played with a degree of excitement. Then the swordsman progressed from C to A minor, then to G major, D minor, then a number of different chords, before he placed his palm over the strings, stopping all vibrations and ceasing all sounds from his guitar.

Satisfied, he moved onto the next thing. With his fingers still fretting the C chord he played the fifth, third, second and first strings simultaneously, then a pluck on the first just as his index finger moved to the second fret of the first string, his ring finger hammering onto the fourth fret as the string was still vibrating, followed by a quick pull-off, and the index finger followed suit.

Zero’s attention to the instrument was briefly interrupted by a ray of sunlight which had streamed into his room through the windows, shining at his eyes. He brought a hand up to cover his face, glancing sideways at the digital clock on the wall.