Fatigue

FATIGUE.

I heard before singing was a form of exercise, but it caught me off guard how hard it me to hit the both of us.

After our little mini duet of You Are My Sunshine, we sang three lullabies. Followed by the national anthem again. Then two classics and one chart-topping pop song from my previous life. We sat down on the couch with a glass of water, sweating and heaving our lives out.

Yes, sweat.

I was uncertain if it was because of my poor technique or Lumi's frail physique (or as a matter of fact both). But our pores and glands dripped with sweat like a leaky pipe.

The whole singing session was strange. Whenever I (or Lumi) concentrated, we would feel one another.

I would close my eyes and tried to hit the falsetto note before my voice cracked. Then, I would receive the sensations of all the muscles and emotions engaged in Lumi, as she followed suit. It was as if a hologram of her body formed in my mind.

I saw, not through her facial features, but through intuition, how her jaw was too tight. How her vocal folds were not engaged enough at times.

I was unclear on how else to describe it. But these thoughts were more than uncontrollable the longer we sang for, so, of course Lumi knew it too.

That muscle right there did not feel right, a little tighter.

When similar thoughts emerged mid-song, I copied the sensation I felt in Lumi and then changed it. She would then immediately follow suit, copying me and attempting to correct it at the same time.

I frequented karaoke bars in my previous life, so, I learned the ins and outs of how to belt.

The muscles of the abdomen helped control the exhalation of air. A strong and firm regulated airflow, which prevented breathiness. It also channeled more energy into one's voice and helped it carry and project better.

Shy singing was one of Lumi's major weaknesses I identified.

The special honey done wonders on the tone of her voice. But it could not work its magic when her voice was imperceptible. Her voice was sweet and delicate, but it was much too soft. Her whisper-mumble did not help with her sense of pitch either, so she often fell flat.

Of course, I was no Breddie Percury or a vocal coach myself, so I was not one to talk. But that remained another story.

I wanted to work on a clear and strong singing voice for Lumi first. Thus, I pushed her to use her core and back muscles the most—which meant I pushed myself, too. Lumi's fatigue (or my fatigue) and combined with all the adrenaline; it was too much for ourselves.

We chugged down four to five glasses of water and caught our breaths for a good dozen minutes before I felt better.

"How was that, dumpling? Feeling tired?" I asked her first, filling another glass in her hands.

She took a sip and showed me her first giggle. It was one of those rare moments where one wished their eyeballs were cameras, but alas, they were not. I made do and burned this sight of her to the back of my mind. 

"It was fun, Dad," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It was like whack-a-mole trying to find which muscle to use."

"Feeling more confident in your singing, mhm?"

Lumi lowered her head. "Mhm."

I stroked the back of her hair before I put a hand under her chin and raised it. "You sound beautiful already, dumpling. You only need to let the world hear your voice. It could make the moon shine, the flowers bloom, and the fishes dance, you know."

"D-dad..."

I grinned, seeing the unmissable pink flush on her cheeks. She shrank a little more, trying to shuffle away from me. Her eyes darted back and forth like a fish out of water herself.

"Have I ever told you that you're the super adorable, cutest, dumpling?"

Lumi hated my provocation. She gave a wronged pout. Her peach-like cheeks ballooned with well-founded anger at the teasing.

"Y-you can think about other things too, Dad!"

"Doesn't my dumpling know that my mind only works for her?"

I gave a wry smile as she pulled away and harrumphed. But the sense of loss without her being by my side was unbearable. I wrapped her into a tight embrace again and hurried to coax her.

"Okay, okay, Dad will stop teasing you. He should respect his cute dumpling more."

Lumi nodded in agreement before she froze. Such a sight was super adorable and cute. I tightened my arms around her, wishing there was a little more of her to hug.

"Okay, for real this time. No more tricks. Dad won't say or think another word about your cuteness," I said, giving her a deep kiss on her left cheek. "Instead, he thinks we should go out and grab something to eat instead."

The sweetness. The happiness. The relief I felt within her disappeared the second I finished my last sentence.

Lumi stiffened like a rock, harder than she had ever before with me, even in the fiascoes of the bath earlier.

I hid the disappointment in my heart the very best to my abilities. It was considerable progress getting her to speak with me. That was not to mention practicing singing already.

I was pressing my buttons trying to get her out of the house knowing her fear of people and the world.

"You can treat everyone like moles you can whack," I offered.

Lumi smiled, but I could see the fear and pain hidden behind it. She then lowered her head again and shrunk, as if sensing my own stir of negative emotions.

Loosening the hug, I sat her down on the sofa, kneeled so she could see me, and patted her head.

"Don't be glum with yourself, dumpling. It's like with your singing. We'll take it one step at a time, okay?"