Disclaimer: I bear no relation to the true owner of these characters and setting, which I believe is Yuki Kure.
The girl's finger slipped.
The clarinet dropped from her hands. Se flinched as she heard it hit the ground with a heart-drowning crack, as the thing had broken into sections. Its angry echo through the practice room made her lower lip tremble. Her face warmed. She hadn't ever dropped a note with this result. Or her instrument, for that matter.
The warm sound of his cello died away. She knew he was staring at her, angrily at the very least; why wouldn't he be? She had just dropped a priceless instrument in the midst of a piece. The girl was sure of this: he'd probably never had a practice partner that was as clumsy as she.
"I-I'm so sorry... Keiichi," she muttered quietly, shivering as she fumbled to regain her instrument. Her hands clasped around the mouthpiece, which had apparently been disheveled from the rest of the clarinet. The instrument could surely be repared, right?; the sections were all in tact.
She could hear a soft rumble; he must've put his instrument down. Her heart rate increased rapidly as she fought back pools of tears, and took a quick glance up at him.
Keiichi had lifted himself gracefully from his chair, and was walking towards the frostbitten window. His deep blue eyes stared blankly at the sheets of ice that coated the glass.
"Maybe we should take a break from practicing," he muttered quietly to her, his thick locks of light blonde hair moving beautifully with his head as his eyes met with her, "for a little while."
She nodded sheepishly, averting her gaze to the ground once more. A tear rolled down her cheek as she regained the rest of her shattered clarinet. It was rather obvious to her that he had stopped the practice because of her stupid actions. How mediocre she must appear to him... Her back straightened as she stood up, and lay the pieces of metal on a small table laden with music that had yet to be practiced. She couldn't help but reliquinsh a quiet sob.
"Hm?"
Her body jerked, startled by the sound of the boy's voice. Her eye's flew up to him, and could see the glazed look on his face, even through the tears that wouldn't stop trickling down her own.
"Hn... Shoko... why are you crying?" he asked her softly, seeming slightly inquistive.
Shoko dearly wanted to answer him, but her mouth couldn't form the words. Instead, her lips moved clumsily, releasing a series of pained sobs. Her hands flew to her mouth, embarrassment washing over her face in a blanket of red. She stood there, watching him stare at her, looking rather remorseful, or possibly blank.
"I'm... s-sorry," she said to him, letting a few tears fall into her mouth," I... I know you p-probably would have rather practiced... w-with Kahoko, but I-I... I thought we could... practice... together..." Shoko broke off into silence, she was barely able to look at the cellist, her eyes streaming. She felt shameful of herself, to think that she could have practiced with someone such as he... and maybe escape with a friendship, or maybe even tighter bonds if she could help it.
She heard footsteps inching towards her, though her gaze remained firm to the ground. She could hardly move herself, or even bear to make an audible word or two. He... must be leaving, she thought, bringing more wetness upon her face, I'm so... unbecoming... when I cry... Another sob.
Her mind went numb, as she felt cloth press against her skin. Something had wrapped itself around her arms, and was pressed warmly against her back, softly pulling her forward. Her head lay rested against a firm shoulder, she resting her chin upon it. A warm sensation swelled inside her as she wrapped her arms around the boy, quietly praying that she had not dreamed this entire situation.
"It's all right to cry... Shoko. It eases the pain... " he said quietly into her ear," I cry too, sometimes... when I am truely sad... "
She nodded, more tears pouring than before as she let them fall onto his shirt, just to ease the pain a bit more. Hardly any more shame was inside her as she pressed her face into his shoulder, taking in the full experience of their embrace. His hand gently stroked her trimmed hair in an attempt to comfort her.
Keiichi sighed, letting her break apart from him. He stared blankly at his wet shoulder. A slightly embarrassed Shoko couldn't help but supress a small sound that resemble a chuckle.
"We should probably... start practicing again," he said," You may... want to put your clarinet together before we do, though..."
She smiled shyly," Yes... I-I probably should."