Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda D'Oro, as much as I'd love to. If I did I'd huggle one adorable green-haired cutie until he faints from lack of oxygen ;)
AN: Okay, this isn't really in chronological order, since I know Hihara only discovered the shop after Hino repaired the violin. And also, I'm going to refer to people mostly by surname, because that's how they were referred to in the anime. I think there's a super duper shortage of Hihara fics, and way too many LenxKaho, so fellow Hihara fans, keep writing! Anyways, enjoy! :D
I was in a plain rotten mood. Despite the fat and no doubt mouth-watering meat bun stuffed firmly between my teeth and the trusty trumpet I carried in one hand, I found myself wandering along the street (what street was it again?) in a daze, bumping into people with my shoulders and not even bothering to apologize.
Okay. Let's make this clear. I, Hihara Kazuki, do not generally make little kids cry by smearing their precious ice-cream all over the path. Nor do I make shriveled old ladies mutter about my generation's terrible manners by sending their groceries flying. And least of all, I do not drift on like a ghost after committing the said atrocities without a glance back. Come on! I'm a nice guy. I'd flail my arms in horror and apologize profusely with many 90 degree (or more) bows. I'd probably even whip out my trumpet and play something lively to cheer the kids up. The key word being, of course, 'generally'.
I couldn't help being so depressed. The third selection was a total failure. Epic. Yeah. I laughed mirthlessly out loud as I walked, causing several well-intentioned mothers to steer their kids well away from me. Not only was my performance pathetically substandard, but Kaho-chan was obviously in pain after that incident, and I couldn't help her. I ran my free hand through my hair, my eyebrows uncharacteristically pulled together in a deep frown. I was completely at a loss. She didn't even trust me, wouldn't even let me share her suffering. Sigh.
I did try asking Aniki for advice…
"Aniki? What makes a girl happy?"
He glanced up from his laptop. My older brother, Haruki. The subject of every girl's fantasies, except maybe the Yunoki guard. Girls in Seiso tended to be more musically inclined even in their choice of guys… most girls swooned over my brother's type though. Tall, handsome, athletic, fairly brainy, friendly, and with a smile to die for (however there are people coughgirlscough who would argue that his eyes/body are worth more than his smile).
"Abs," he replied flatly. He turned back to his laptop.
"Aniki!" I exclaimed, frustrated. "Kaho-chan's really sad now, and it's worse than last time. I really want to cheer her up."
"The girl from the park?"
I nodded.
"You still haven't made a move yet? Honestly, I can't believe you're my brother," he shook his head in disbelief.
"Well… stuff happened. And besides.. I'm not sure Kaho-chan likes me, or wants me to like her. Right now she needs a friend more than anything else."
He turned to face me – I squirmed under his scrutiny. Finally he said:
You know I'm a flirt, Kazuki. I can tell you exactly what to say and how many roses to buy to win a girl's heart. But if you want to make her happy, you need to know her. Know what makes her tick. What she wants, fears, hates, and most importantly, loves.
…fat lot of help that was.
Strains of music, barely audible through the crowd, made their way to my ears. Against my will, my feet lifted and began to carry me towards the source of the sound. Music was the last thing I wanted to hear right now, but my instincts just took over. Before I knew it I was standing in front of the instruments shop Tsuchiura frequented. Minami Instruments. The bell tinkled faintly as I entered.
The person playing was not Tsuchiura. I knew that the moment I stepped in.
Uwaah… it was a Gen Ed Seiso girl. Darn! What was it with all these musically talented Gen Ed students? She had long hair dyed dirty blonde with streaks of brown, long fringe tucked behind her ears, and wore spectacles. She had serious dark-brown eyes, and somehow I had the idea I'd seen her somewhere before…
She was playing Flight of the Bumblebee by Rimsky-Korsakov, and though it was a rather difficult and technical piece, it was easily past Tsuchiura's standards. Her fingers were not as nimble nor as strong as the soccer player's, but nevertheless it was an amazing piece to listen to. Her fingers flew rapidly across the keyboard in imitation of a buzzing bee, so fast I could barely make out the individual notes. The pitch suddenly dropped, the melodious buzzing becoming barely audible. Her fingers flew upwards in a rapid chromatic scale, becoming louder and louder before finally crashing down in the final chord. And then, after a long pause, one last quiet note, the tonic, to wrap it up.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. What happened to not feeling like listening to music? I mused. My thoughts were distracted as I heard a familiar, masculine voice.
"Thanks, Suzu," the piano prodigy said. "It really helps with the advertising."
She laughed – her voice was mid-range, not too high. Sensible, just like the person she was talking to. "Come on, Tsuchiura. You play so much better than me."
"Well, not when I have to unpack these," he retorted, gesturing at the boxes lying on the floor, which I assumed was new stock. He picked up one of them and disappeared to the back of the store.
Suzu-chan, as I discovered her name was, began to absent-mindedly plonk on the keyboard. At first I thought she was playing randomly until I recognized the tune she was trying to work out. It was a tune I knew better than any other. She hummed out the tune unsurely, then tried to play it out. Somehow I found myself holding my breath, mentally begging for her to get it right. E… yes, then F#... no, no! F#! I tugged at my grass-green hair in anguish. Aghh! What the heck is wrong with me?
I closed my eyes in agony, my heart pleading for her to stop butchering one of my favourite tunes. But when I peeked out at her, her happy face as she hummed and played erased those thoughts. She was actually quite pretty, I realized, when she didn't have her previous serious, no-nonsense expression. I recognized her – she was in the student council. Or something. I knew she knew Yunoki.
Finally, she managed to get the whole thing right as well as figure out the left-hand accompaniment. I sighed with relief, even though that nasty little part of my brain told me I had nothing to do with it.
"What are you doing?" The other grass-hair had come back into the room and was peering at Suzu-chan curiously.
"Ah, Tsuchiura! I was just wondering, do you know this song? I can't get it out of my head." She played out the tune slowly, thankfully with minimal errors.
Tsuchiura's face lit up in recognition. "That's Hihara-sempai's performance piece for the second selection,-"
"-On Wings of Song by Mendelssohn," I finished, spitting the meat bun out onto my hand and stepping out from behind the shelf.
/watch?v=Ax3CqHSNojE
Her jaw dropped and she gaped at me in disbelief, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.
"Yo." I smiled innocently, waving my meat bun at her.
"H-Hihara? How long were you-" she glared accusingly at Tsuchiura, who only looked slightly surprised. "You knew he was there?"
"Tch, me? Not a chance," the other boy replied mildly, looking amused. "I just got used to it after being spied on by Hino a few times."
"Yo, Tsuchiura!" I grinned widely at him. Strange to think only a couple minutes ago I was depressed and in a daze.
He nodded. "Hihara-sempai." He glanced at Suzu-chan, who had now regained her composure. "This is Suzuki Kana, my classmate. She's also the Fukukaichou." [vice-president of the student council]
"A! No wonder I thought I've seen you somewhere before. You play really well, Suzu-chan!"
A sweatdrop appeared over her head. "Thanks, Hihara-sempai," she replied politely. Obviously she felt inferior compared to Tsuchiura.
"You don't believe me?" I pouted, directing huge puppy dog eyes at her. This time even Tsuchiura sweatdropped.
She only smiled, eyes dancing. "Sure I do, sempai. Sure I do," and stepped forward and ruffled my hair affectionately. My eyes reverted back to normal and I blinked a few times in surprise. Not that I minded… in fact my cheeks were probably a bit pink already.
"I really like your choice of song, Hihara-sempai. Somehow, the tune feels very… deep. And it suits you and the trumpet really well." The words sounded awkward coming out of her mouth, but her eyes were begging me to believe her. The kind of embarrassed eyes that said, It's hard to say it so please believe me.
"Ahaha… really?" I found myself rubbing the back of my head in embarrassment.
"Actually, it's usually played on violin, not trumpet," Tsuchiura said, shaking his head as he knocked Suzu-chan on the top of her head. As with most girls, he towered over the petite second-year whom I now thought of as my admirer. My admirer? Surely fukukaichous were too sensible to admire someone as goofy as me. But then again, the kaichou [president] was Yunoki, my best friend.
"Ehh? Does that really make a difference? Hihara sempai played it amazingly," she pouted at Tsuchiura. "And sempai's latest performance was incredibly touching too."
My face fell at the mention of my disastrous performance. "Nah, it was awful," I said quietly, glaring at the tiled floor. "I made some huge mistakes."
She cocked her head, looking puzzled. "But that doesn't really matter. As long as you smile and act normal and confident and keep playing, most people can't tell if you make mistakes. Besides, it fitted the theme perfectly! You seemed so sad, as though you really were thinking about your irreplaceable parts," she said matter-of-factly.
Irreplaceable parts? Oh yeah, that was the theme. I suppose I was thinking about Kaho-chan a lot…
"Anyway, I enjoyed your performance. That's the purpose of performing right? To make others enjoy it?" I realized she was standing right in front of me and peering up at my face worriedly.
I looked up and met her eyes.
"You know what?" Brimming with excitement.
"What?" Apprehensive.
"You're absolutely right!" Sweatdrops galore.
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