Chapter One: A dream? Or a memory?
Will you play for me?
My eyes flutter open as a new day dawns at me. I dreamt of Madame Grantaine for the third time this week. She was still there in her meadow. The wind dancing with her soft blonde hair and her silk dress, the flowers bowing down to her as she smiles, her eyes twinkling with joy, her nose wrinkling with happiness. But then again, was it a dream? Or perhaps a memory from a long time ago?
I was in an inn in France, waiting for my brother's arrival from Japan. The strawberry cake was luscious, the green tea hot against the cool temperature the cake had. Over at the back porch, stood a grand piano. It was dusty, and it seemed to be waiting. Waiting to be played.
She's as old as me. But she can still play.
The old innkeeper said with a wink. When she left, I sat and began to play Mozart's Sonata. I then realize that it has been a while since I played the piano. The sound it produced was still decent. Mellifluous even. Then a lady in a faded pink dress approaches as I finish the piece.
That was beautiful, my dear. Do you mind?
I gave a little room as she sat beside me. She seemed delicate, like the lights in her soft blue eyes are about to leave her. Her golden hair is as pale as her dress; she had a necklace that had a heart for a locket, her hands tightly clutching her peach colored shawl.
My son used to play me the piano all day long. His playing made me happy.
She looked at me in the eyes. She seemed grateful that I am here, that I remind him of his lost son. She makes me wonder. I am intrigued. What could have happened? Her eyes gave out the feeling of loneliness, but she struggles to keep a smile on her face.
I hope you don't mind me saying, but you remind me of him.
Her smile faded and I looked at my knees, fidgeting. I feel as if I offended her in some way, or hurt her. She noticed this and held my hands. She looked at me with those soft eyes; she tucked my hair in my ear and gently pressed her hand against my cheeks.
Will you play for me?
…
"Masanori-sama!"
Kajiura's voice bellows from the floor beneath me. She must think I am still asleep in my bed. As a ballerina, I am expected to loosen up my tensed muscles every morning. The gaping mirror in front reflects a young lady who is white in her skin, her short hair fair as spring in May day. She seems troubled. Her brows create a certain furrow on her forehead that is rather unpleasant. She closes her eyes and when opened, she realizes that she is I, Masanori Chiaki.
"Masanori-sama, your breakfast is getting cold! And your ballet class won't be waiting for you! I've prepared your bath, if you don't get up in five minutes; I can and will drag you to the bathroom! Make that two minutes!"
I can hear the strain in her voice. Her footsteps are rapping against the wooden floor. She knocks on my door, partially banging it.
"I'm up Kajiura-san!" I exclaim with a smile on my face. She makes me laugh. Her exaggeration makes my day.
"Are you on with your exercises then?" Her tone depicts that she is toying with something.
I walk toward the door and open this. She is there, standing a few inches away from the door, wiping a teacup with a ragged cloth. "Of course I am." I raise a brow at her as she scoffs lightly under her breath.
"Don't take too long." She turns her back to me and with a quick pace, goes down the stairs.
[A/N]: Hey guys! So this'll be my third fanfic here in !
If you're a fan of Junjou Romantica and Shounen Ai, please drop by my profile and check it out!
I disclaim everything! I do not own OHSHC!
R&R please! I'd love to hear from you!
