Disclaimer:

I own nothing. Ninomiya-sensei owns the original story. I just pick it up, play with it for a while and I promise I won't harm them.

Warnings:

AU – It doesn't happen YET, manga-verse. It's just my imaginations running wild.

A/N:

A big shout-out to my soul sister and beta, annalisemarie99 for putting up with this bubbly chatter box since we first knew each other, plus correcting the mistakes I sometimes overlook while proof-reading. Thanks!

To my fellow Nodame Cantabile followers, please don't shoot me. =D

To my readers, enjoy this one-shot. I know it's sappy but sue me. I wanted a good ending for so long. By the way, did you guys read the latest chapter? Nina Lutz has my vote!

Their Promise

Sometimes he wondered how blessed he is; that through it all, he found her in his heart. Even though they were once at the brink, where everything seemed uncertain and bleak at best, when she avoided him and everything that had to do with him, they eventually waded through the storm...

As his hand absently ran through the mussed hair of the figure on his lap while he studied his score, Chiaki's mind wandered.

There was a time when he would be exasperated with all her clutter, her obliviousness, her smelly I-didn't-have-a-bath-in-a-week hair, her piano and that particular pout…

But then it was the haphazard notes that attracted him in the first place, it was the clutter that drove him to her, it was that obliviousness that endeared him although he didn't realise it at the time, her smelly I-didn't-have-a-bath-in-a-week hair that initially drove him to care (and let's not mention the times he had cooked for her) and that pout…

At first, he couldn't stand the pout. It drove him up the wall! In the back of his mind, there was always the voice saying, 'don't make that face!' whenever she did it.

Yet, after all those years filled with conducting for various orchestras, he found that he had grown to love and miss that expression on her face. He missed the woman who always attended his performances and above all, he missed her.

After many denials, he finally found that he could wait no more.

After knowing how it felt to almost lose her, thinking she might slip away from his grasp, he finally chose to acknowledge his feelings for her.

It was only last year that they had exchanged vows. Beneath the cherry tree at the gardens of his home back in Japan, he had slipped on her finger the ring he bought in Paris years ago. As he looked at her bright eyes, he knew then that it was right; that she was the one for him.

When her lips met his, he berated himself for having waited too long to recognise her feelings for him. Though her feelings were overshadowed by her childish whims, he should have known. Now, he was content to be able to have her in his embrace.

Looking down at the woman he loved dearly, Chiaki remembered their promise. For now, in their room at their apartment, Chiaki abandoned his scores in place of the sleeping figure of his wife. Her head, using him as a pillow snuggled closer to him, unconsciously breathing in his scent.

A few moments later, he too fell asleep.

**********************

The rays from the sun penetrated the windows. It effectively woke him from his slumber. His sleepy eyes roamed the room before he realised the right side of the bed was empty.

For a moment, he panicked. He thought it was all a dream…

But then the sound of water running from the bathroom assured him. It wasn't just a dream.

A smile found its way onto his face.

He turned just as the bathroom door opened. Her head stuck out from the bathroom with that excited face he had come to love.

'Shinichi, will this dress do?' She asked.

'Where's the blue one that I bought for you yesterday?'

'Well, it's too formal and …'

'I bought it for you. It looks good on you.'

'Shinichi…'

Exasperated, Chiaki pulled the blue dress from the closet. He walked to her, dress in hand, and not too roughly handed it to her.

'Tonight is our night. We've rehearsed dozens of times and you'll look stunning in that dress, sitting at the piano,' Chiaki reasoned.

'All right, I'll wear it,' she said as she disappeared back into the bathroom.

As she readied herself, Chiaki made the bed and gathered his scores. One of them he held for a long time, basking in the good memories it brought up. Then the bathroom door reopened. She stepped out in all her beauty and he found himself breathless. Even without make-up, her beauty shone through her eyes.

'You look breathtaking,' said Chiaki as he regained his composure.

'Aww… Shinichi. You're so full of compliments tonight.'

'And I do love the way you say my name, alright,' he added.

She pouted. 'Maybe I'll call you senpai instead.'

'No, don't. Besides, you won't get your present after our performance tonight if you stop calling me by my name.'

'And what is that?'

'Your favourite special edition Puri Gorota episodes and they're all limited editions. They're no longer on the shelves, you know.'

'Gyabo! Shinichi… ,' she whispered before hugging him with all her might.

Amused, Chiaki patted her back, then jokingly tried to pull away before telling her to let go lest he die a premature death from suffocation.

'Will your family be there?' she asked.

'Of course. Yours too. Besides, they wouldn't miss this for the world,' he said.

'It's a dream come true. Remember the promise? I always thought it wouldn't be fulfilled,' she mused.

'I do remember. Always. Now, we've got to get ready. We've got a last-minute rehearsal before tonight.'

'Do we have to?'

'Yes Nodame, now go!'

Her eyes widened as she realised the time.

'Mugya!' exclaimed Nodame as she hurried to get ready for their night.

*******************************

It was a full house.

Notable musicians, conductors lined the seats. Seated amongst the crowd were their family members and friends.

Backstage, he held his Megumi's hand, giving her reassurance. It was their night. Nothing was about to ruin it.

'Ready?' he asked.

'Senpai… As long as I'm with you, I'll always be ready.'

'Good. It's our concerto after all.'

With her in the lead, they entered the stage to thunderous applause. Already, their reputation preceded them. They took their place, him at the podium and her, at the piano.

As the pianissimo of Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No.2 in C minor Op.18 played, followed by the orchestra tsunami, their hearts and souls joined as one.

It was her dream to play a concerto with an orchestra with her as the pianist and him, on the podium ready to complement her melodies.

… And somehow along the way, it became his, too.