For a man who was   halfway done writing the greatest cello piece since Dvorak's  Cello Concerto in Masato was having a terrible morning. The music world was abuzz with the rumor that he was working a the music world became abuzz it was sure that the newspaper industry wasn't far behind.This was the root of masato's problem , the local newspaper had assigned him his very own reporter. Every morning that reporter went to masato's home and asked the help if there master wad done and every day he was told no and turned away. The constant inquisitions into his progress had begin to plague Masato and brought his work to a screeching halt. As such Masato decided he needed to relax and focus on something other then his work or prying eyes of the local media, he thought that  someone at the local brothel could keep him focused on something  else for awhile.<br/><br/><br/>Making his way through the crowded city  hidden by the hustle of  people trying to get to work. Once he made his way to the front , masato took a quick glance over  his shoulder  to make sure that no one was following him and opened the door. Masato quietly snuck into the brothel and was greeted with the sound of someone tickling the ivory keys. This was not the first thing he wanted to hear at this moment to say the least. Masato was never a fan of the piano , he didn't think it could build the way a string instrument could. The piano just seemed to heavy handed to him and this melody reinforced that idea in masato's opinion. Masato couldn't resist the urge to watch a performance , so he made his way to the doorway of the room the music was coming from and stood there listening to the tune.