Glass, in his tired, stoic frustration, left his computer open to his report over Ichabod's recent activity in Shikago; it ran a little below four paragraphs, his last sentence stopping halfway through and most likely written several times over.

   To Rukei, who sat quietly reading a textbook on Eishic's history and just covered Chapter 6, Section 3: Eishic's war with Viminh and its economical effect on trade in the Ochiman continent as a whole, the past three-quarters of an hour sounded something like this.

   A muted, aggravated sigh, then a pause. "Rukei, what's that word that... that you use when something's late because of someone... formally?"

   The child would look up from the title. "Delay? Detain-"

   "Detain," Glass repeated firmly, with an approving nod. Wether it was to himself or to her, Rukei would return to the text happy, satisfied, and proud.

   An unsteady series of clicks in varying measures of agitato and adagio while Rukei moved on to Section 2 covering the Treaty of Houn. She would get about halfway through it, and then-

   Ruffling of hair in annoyance. "Rukei, do you think they'll get onto me for punctuation?"

  "... It's a professional document," the brunette stated dully.

   Glass hissed a curse. He never got this kind of education when he was a kid- Hunter wasn't even his first language- and pushing it all on him now was just unbearable; he didn't understand why commas could and should go into so many places, and semicolons seemed so unnecessary, and-!

   "I can edit it for you."

   The blonde met her steady gaze after a moment, searching for any signs of irritation- these kind of things were usually pushed onto the child. The child didn't seem to mind and was very earnest in her offer. He gave her another small, grateful nod. "Thanks, Rukei."

   "Of course."

   And both Glass and Rukei would pick up where they left off, and it continued like so, until Glass in his frustration pulled off the black headphones from his head and declared that he'd be going outside with some excuse about "helping Crimson fix the car" thus putting off his report again.

   Rukei stood up quietly, walking behind the man's open computer and reading over the information. Glass had a hard time with these sort of things. Rukei understood that, but the more she looked over the document, she found herself a bit annoyed. She told Glass about these mistakes last time, and he was still doing them!

   With a huff, she sat down in the chair and began moving around where he paused, ended, and started his sentences; once she glanced towards his headphones left plugged in and abandoned next to the laptop. In subconscious curiosity, she slipped them on.

   Oh.

   Slowly, the brunette let her hands drop to her sides, leaning back in the chair: relaxed yet very attentive to all the intricacies that Rukei was unable describe in the song. It had a mellow, very sweet sound to it. All together happy, that was how Rukei liked to believe it, though perhaps... maybe a little, as she listened on to the drawn, lifting glide of notes, maybe a little sad. Nostalgic, somehow, though Rukei had no recollection of the song.

   The music sang on, telling the intangible stories of Glass' day; coloring a tale with no line nor form of what he felt as he worked, as he grew frustrated, as he sighed and gave up.

   Rukei smiled, letting her shoulders relax and her head droop. This was the sound of Glass' day.

-

Try someone else's soundtrack for a change of pace!