Memories? Only Theatre

If you were to ask Tomoki how much he can recall in his childhood, he’d probably retort why you were even interested in it in the first place. It’s not to say he doesn’t remember anything, rather, he’s still fond of his caretaker even if she never quite told him about what’s going on up above. Maybe he’s always been a bit nosy. 

But really, the most recurring memory that he can recall with a degree of fondness is his attempts to wrangle information from his caretaker, Ying, about the supposed thing known as ‘theater’. 

Ah. The good old days. He’s not even that old but Tomoki feels his age on occasion. Ying would claim that he’s been dramatic and perhaps he always is. Just a bit. 

In a way, he’s just like Tian, or rather they’re cut from the same cloth. The imp sure doesn’t feel that way, however. To Tian, Tomoki’s just someone who keeps bothering them whenever they try to preen. 

And here he thought having a pet would help with his issues. 

–

“But what do others even do–” he remembers asking. “What do you mean there’s things on stage and things on screens and they’re both considered theater?--” 

“Creatures are strange,” Ying replies. “Language even more so.” 

“But why are they both called theater–” 

“That’s a history lesson, Goldilocks.” 

He pauses for a moment. “I’m not blond–” 

She sighs. This is just a normal day with his caretaker, Tomoki with too many questions about the world and a need for more knowledge. That’s not even bringing up the time that he ended up asleep on the floor because everything else was ‘too warm’ or ‘too hot’. 

Apparently he’s spoiled. He most likely is with how much Ying indulges his questions and what he wants. Even if she refuses to take him to see one of those shows at the theater because ‘he won’t remember anything after a few years’. Tomoki thinks it’s an excuse actually. 

Ying has many excuses instead of admitting that she refuses to take him there. 

Except, well, he knows that she’s taken other buns to the theater. Some who would later join the shows but she won’t take him. 

Curiosity will surely kill him beforehand. 

“Woe are you,” she comments. “Wait a bit so you’ll actually enjoy the experience.” 

“I’ll do it once I grow up!” he decides far too young. The funny thing will be about just how right he will be. Tomoki almost wants to laugh about it later in the future. “And I’ll be the most famous playwright ever!” 

“You seem quite certain.” 

“It can’t be that hard.” Really, it’s funny how he’ll eat those words later down the line. 

Even still, Ying puts on something. Music in the background that Tomoki will learn later is actually opera. Maybe something from a musical that will alter his little brain chemistry later. A fixation that gets awakened, not that he’d know about it yet. 

For now, he simply basks in how it makes him feel. Even if he doesn’t know a single word that’s being sung. 

It’s good. The best actually. All he knows is that it’s a vibe more than anything else. He wants to peel a hole into the music to crawl inside of it.

All of this is comforting in a way that nothing else will quite be. Perhaps this is where the fixation starts. The need to make a name for himself. He’s always been too greedy for his own good, regardless if it was for knowledge or otherwise. 

Eventually it’s grow into something that he can’t control because it’s easy to get drunk on the idea of fame. 

-

The thing is, while Ying refuses to bring him to a theater, she has nothing but praises for those she has also raised and later joined the troupe of performers. 

Tomoki doesn’t get any of their names, rather, he doesn’t remember them as much as he’s more amazed at what they can do. What it takes for dance to fit together, to have the music fit with it all. Then the lyrics to tell a story– 

It might as well be magic to him. 

“Mask changing is a thing?!” he practically yells. “How do you do it?” 

“Magic,” his caretaker replies as if it explains anything at all. It explains nothing at all. 

Then again, looking back, he’s not sure how Ying would go about telling him about the intricacies considering he’s never been one for patience. As a baby bun, even less so. If he wants something done, he would like it done now. 

Nevermind the amount of practice he needs to get something done. Practice makes everything perfect as Ying attempts to tell him but Tomoki really only learns about it later.  

Now, it’d be nice if he could get a skill when he shows interest in it. Preferably before he even asks for it. Wouldn’t that be swell? It’d certainly save a headache later down the line. 

–

And now he lives alone in an apartment with a cygnette who glares at him if he looks at it wrong. Really, Tomoki thinks that Ying would say that his pet is more akin to a ‘cat’, whatever that is. He’s never gotten that many answers out of her and he doubts that will change. 

After all, he’s certain that most demons see them as a pet project so whatever they are interested in comes second. The first is seeing what entertainment they can give first. 

It’s not something Tomoki likes to dwell on. But still, it’d be nice to ring up Ying again to tell her about this new play that he’s writing. One with musical numbers even if he never learned how to read any of it. 

Tomoki thinks she’d be proud of him. 

At least, he’s happy that it's become something even after she started to tell him about the world above. Specifically, theater. Who knows, maybe Tomoki will be someone with his name in the history books.