Disclaimer:: Since when did I own La Corda D'Oro? Never. I'm never going to own anything related to La Corda D'Oro. (-: Although if I wish, I'd want to have Kiriya, LAWLz. Also, some other contents in here like . . . . stuff you should just read for yourselves . . . . I don't own them, or anything for that matter! OK!? . . . . Good. {With the exemption of this Three-Shot. (-:}
This is only a Three-Shot {since I don't want another In-Progress story. Oh . . . . This IS going to be an In-Progress story, huh? Damn it.}, probably an 'experiment' on something that's been nagging me.
Anyhow, I'm not sure what kind of genre to put it. So . . . . it's Friendship/Humour for now {if you say it's Parody, then I'll put it in Parody}.
Please read on! (-;
23.04.10.- Oh! And tons of 'thank you's to -sera-chan011- for Beta-Reading! Sorry for all the troubles so far, girl. :-P
It was like any other day in Seiso Academy. Students were flocking their way to their classrooms in rush as they were late for school. The so-called fan-girls of Azuma and Aoi were still worshipping the aforementioned musicians, getting into an argument on which of the two guys was hotter and whatnot. And the former concours participants were . . .
. . . hiding? Why?
"Hey, Shimizu, would you stop stepping on my foot?" complained the green-haired pianist, Ryotaro Tsuchiura. He exhaled in exasperation as the junior, yet again, stepped on his already aching foot.
"I'm sorry . . . Tsuchiura-senpai," mumbled the cellist, Keiichi Shimizu, sleepily. As usual, the blonde-haired boy looked as if he would pass out. His fringes covered half of his face as he looked down and doze off once again. He didn't realise that his body was falling like a withering flower.
"Ah! Got'cha!" the trumpeter, Kazuki Hihara, exclaimed as his arms circled around the dozing cellist's frame in order to prevent him from painfully hitting the ground.
The cerulean-haired violinist, Len Tsukimori, sighed in irritation. He didn't like the idea of being locked in; neither did he like the idea of being inside the same room as Ryotaro.
. . . . So, they weren't hiding, after all.
Which reminded him—why were they in here in the first place? And where was 'here'?
As if voicing his thoughts aloud, Kahoko Hino asked everybody in confusion, "What are we doing here? Why are we locked in all of a sudden? Shouldn't . . . shouldn't we be in class by now?" She couldn't remember anything that had happened this morning except the memory of her being inside her room, sleeping soundly with her favourite pink pyjamas on. In bed, if she might add in. Yet here she was now, surrounded by six guys and one girl, wearing their respective uniforms, confused and wondering.
The general question that crossed her mind was: Who could have changed her clothes?
Kahoko blushed in embarrassment as she tried figuring out who did it. Her older sister? She doubted it, Hanako's living with her new family somewhere in Britain, as her husband got promoted. Her mother, then? Still no, since she was out working. And Kahoko certainly didn't want to think that her father and brother did it.
The female violinist blushed an even darker red as she thought about it, her face making her vermilion hair paler in comparison.
"I don't know," Aoi Kaji grimly answered. "I'm sorry, Hino-san, but I haven't got a clue. I can only remember walking to school and suddenly, everything went black. It was as if someone knocked me out from behind!"
"It would have been better if you stayed unconscious for the rest of your life," Azuma Yunoki muttered to himself. The idea of Aoi sleeping for eternity was quite . . . . tempting for him. He'd do anything to keep that annoying blonde-haired violist shut. He annoyed him like hell. If hell was like this, that was, he wanted to escape from it. Just away from him.
"Hm? D—Did you s—say something, s—s—senpai?" asked Shoko Fuyuumi timidly. She swallowed her discomfort and the butterflies dancing in her stomach around the lavender-haired flautist. She had heard him say those words, — some of it — because she was standing next to him. But she thought that she was just hearing things. Shoko wouldn't believe that her gentle senior would want Aoi dead . . . . or would she?
"Oh?" Azuma was mildly surprised at the teal-haired girl's question. She . . . . heard him? Although he brushed the emotion away and answered in a composed tone, "No, I didn't, Fuyuumi-san." He flashed her a charming smile, making the clarinettist shy away to her favourite upperclassman: Kahoko.
"What's wrong?" the redhead asked in worry, being brought out of her (embarrassing) reverie, when Shoko went to her side and gripped the sleeve of her uniform.
"N—Nothing's wrong, Kaho-senpai," Shoko smiled a small smile, her face painted with discomfort.
"Are you sure?" For some reason, the redhead didn't trust her words. Something happened, she knew it. The only problem was she didn't know the cause.
"Y—Yes," nodding her head carefully, the clarinettist replied.
"O — K."
"Does anyone here know how to unlock this door?" Len asked, pointing to the crowbar stuck on the metal door. He had already attempted to take it off but proved to be futile. The crowbar was heavy and it prevented any means of escape.
"You simply take that metal off," Ryotaro said, raising an eyebrow. "What? You didn't know how to open it when it's obvious?" He smirked, relishing Len's reaction. Well, not really, since he was still stoic and expressionless as ever. He enjoyed provoking him.
"Tried," Len monotonously answered. He wouldn't let the pianist's words get him. Oh no; he wasn't that low. Only dumb people like Tsuchiura would do that, he thought, a small smile gracing his lips.
"Why don't you do it since you know so much?" the cerulean-haired male coldly said. At least his muscles would be of some use, he shrugged at the thought, walking out of the athlete's way.
"Fine," Ryotaro said, breathing in and out, readying himself. With a strong heave, the crowbar landed on the ground, unlocking the red metal door. Ryotaro couldn't keep his grip on the metal, explaining why it landed on the ground with a 'thud', instead.
"The door's open, Your Highness," the green-haired boy sarcastically said, bowing in mockery as Len passed by him.
"Thank you, servant," said Len with equal sarcasm. He opened the door and walked out, only to come back inside the room and shut the door securely behind him. They couldn't see his expression as his fringes covered his face as his head was bowed down.
"What's this? His Highness has returned? That was such a short journey, don't you think?" The male violinist only harrumphed at his poor remark.
"Cut it out, you two!" with a childish pout, Kahoko said. "Fighting wouldn't do any good to us."
"Kaho-chan's right," agreed Kazuki, when he had laid Keiichi down on the soft couch. The lime-haired senior kept quiet until now, since he was too absorbed with thoughts of his own.
"I suggest sitting silently like the ladies over here," Aoi said, motioning to Kahoko and Shoko's direction.
"Hmph." Rather unfortunately for the violist, Len and Ryotaro ignored him. They went to their separate ways, or rather, to the opposite side of the room.
The dimly lit room consisted of little furniture: two long wooden tables, four chairs, a couch, a coffee table, a lamp, a wardrobe and a water dispenser. The television might be considered as one, only it was broken.
The room's walls were painted of dull white, which was starting to wear off. And the ceiling wasn't painted at all. On top of that, the ceiling was also leaking; droplets of water hitting the ground with a steady beat.
It was boring, they all thought.
Ryotaro's bullion orbs wandered around the room, observing everyone's movements — excluding a certain male — and lastly landed on their lavender-haired senior, who seemed to be busy meddling with the wardrobe.
I guess he's looking for some change of clothes, the pianist thought humorously.
He decided to approach the lonesome flautist, wanting to confirm whether or not his thoughts were true, and stopped a good few steps away from him. Ryotaro crossed his arms on his chest, shifting his weight on his legs and asked, "What are you doing, Yunoki-senpai?"
"I'm trying to look for something useful," Azuma said, arising from his sitting position with an item at hand. He turned his back on the wardrobe so that he could face the pianist fully, and smiled innocently.
Ryotaro stared at their senior's hand; changing his gaze from the item to the irritating smiling face of Azuma. What the hell, he thought, blinking. Ryotaro guessed that by blinking a couple of times, his hallucination might eventually go away.
"Yunoki-senpai?" Ryotaro uneasily said.
"Yes?" Azuma gently questioned back.
"Um . . . . What the hell are you holding?" The pianist bit his lower lip as he stared at the item in Azuma's hand in horror.
"A . . . gun," answered the senior.
There was a brief silence before the green-haired boy exploded, "WHAT?! WHAT THE HELL WOULD YOU DO WITH A GUN?! A GUN!!!"
"That's for me to find out," Azuma calmly said, making Ryotaro face-palm. One more crack like that and the pianist would surely bang his head on the wall in frustration.
He's really unexpected, Ryotaro confirmed, nodding his head in agreement with his thoughts.
Meanwhile, Azuma seemed more amused than usual; probably because of his junior's sudden outburst. He wanted to laugh at the green-haired boy's reaction; it was so hilarious with the way his eyes widened like dinner plates and his mouth hung open — reaching the ground below — like a curtain; but decided not to in the end, since it would ruin his good student reputation.
"I found them inside the wardrobe," Azuma explained, smiling at his juniors and at Kazuki who're all staring at him in disbelief. "I wonder what we need them for . . . ." He purposely trailed off, turned his side slightly and glanced inside the said furniture, "There are also first aid kits, ammunition, more guns, explosives, defibrillators, a chainsaw, a cricket bat, a katana, pain pills and adrenaline shots."
"What the hell?! Yunoki! How did you identify those things???" Kazuki asked, rushing toward his best friend and gripping his shoulder tightly. Azuma winced a little, though he did his best to hide the pain he was undergoing.
"Besides, what do we need those for?" Kazuki asked again.
For shooting Kaji down, Azuma wanted to say this but kept silent instead. He merely smiled and touched the lime-haired boy's hands on his shoulders before taking them off.
"Who knows?" It wasn't a question, rather, it was a statement. And about the part where Kazuki asked him where he got the knowledge about those, he ignored it and thought that by saying those two words, also, it would answer both.
"So . . . what do we do now?" asked Kahoko, who arose from her seat and approached the seniors. Shoko trailed behind her.
"I say grab a gun and other things Yunoki-senpai mentioned for safety," Ryotaro somehow recovered from his outburst, walking to the wardrobe and taking out an AK-47, first aid kit, pain pills and a bottle of thick green liquid he didn't know what it was.
"But it's not safe for Hino-san and Fuyuumi-san to carry such things," Aoi commented, standing beside the girls. "Don't you think it's improper to make them hold guns?"
"You are right about that, Kaji-kun." Azuma didn't want to admit it, but blondie's got a point. He could clearly picture poor Shoko carrying a Gatling gun and Kahoko running around the place with a chainsaw.
But . . . thinking about it . . . that would be quite a sight, Azuma inwardly smirked, enjoying his little fantasy. Great; now I'm going crazy, he thought, heaving out a sigh.
The flautist's gaze wandered around the room, taking in the details, until they landed at a certain cerulean-haired boy's figure. He smirked and walked over to Len's place, putting his princely façade on.
"Hi, Tsukimori-kun," he greeted as the violinist nodded in acknowledgement.
"What is it, Yunoki-senpai?" Len politely asked, offering the senior a seat.
"Thank you," Azuma said, sitting on the wooden chair. He locked gazes with Len and asked, "You . . . don't look so good, after you went outside, Tsukimori-kun. I'm concerned. Is there anything unpleasant you saw outside? Maybe if you tell me, it might lighten you up."
"It's . . . ." Len couldn't lie; he knew that the guy he was talking to was very sharp. Persistent, he added.
Len sighed, massaging his temples, and answered:
"There are a lot of people outside, only thing is, they didn't look like humans. Like us." And the scenery's difficult, Len mentally added.
"Oh? Really?" Azuma was genuinely interested now. He thought of the different possibilities regarding Len's statement.
That was really a sight to behold, he mused.
"If you want to see it for yourself, be my guest." With that said, Len quickly yet carefully joined the others, looking at the objects laid down in a disapproving way.
Well, since Len insisted, Azuma went to the door, opened it and walked out. The scenery was different, he thought. It was like being in another planet — which he definitely hadn't experienced yet — with all the greenery and silence engulfing him. There were tons of different types of trees—from pines to oak trees to conifers and the like. The sky looked bright, but the sun was nowhere to be seen. And the smell . . . Azuma sniffed the air and regretted it deeply afterwards. The whole place stunk of rotten dead bodies — in his opinion. God, it was horrible.
When he couldn't take it any more, he went back inside, disappointed of not being able to see what Len had said — about a lot of not-so-human people wandering. It was when he was half-way inside the room that someone touched his shoulder, cold breath tickling his neck, and the sound of a person gurgling rang inside his ears. He immediately spun around in surprise, and without thinking — giving in to his reactions —, pulled the trigger of his gun. The sound of a loud 'bang!' lingered in the air, as Azuma stared at the corpse-like being, lying dead on the ground. The thing which seemed like a zombie had a hole pierced through his head — the place where Azuma had shot it.
After he decided that he'd seen enough, he went inside the room and closed the door behind him.
Everybody stared at him blankly.
"Yunoki . . . you . . . ." Kazuki started, only to be cut off.
"Shot someone by the door; yes."
There was silence before Kazuki exclaimed:
"EEH?! You KILLED someone?!? Oh, God! No way! It's hard to believe!" Kazuki continued shouting, until Ryotaro shut him up.
"Calm down, Hihara-senpai. I'm sure Yunoki-senpai have a reason behind his action," the pianist said, staring at Azuma with a 'you-have-one-don't-you?' kind look.
"Take . . . deep breaths . . . senpai," Keiichi said, rubbing his drooping eyes with his hands, as he sat up. He gave out a cute yawn and blinked. The shot Azuma'd done woke the blonde-haired cellist up.
"OK. OK." Kazuki did as instructed, until he was finally at ease. He tried to look as calmly as possibly, as he approached the lavender-haired boy, standing by the doorway with a gun at hand.
No . . . try imagining him the usual Yunoki, Kazuki thought. No guns. Just him and his smiling face. No guns. Just the Yunoki surrounded by his mob of fan-girls . . . .
"U — WAH. BLA — KE — WAH," the zombies outside, moaned, pounding on the door with their hands loudly.
Everybody in the room jumped back in surprise, all eyes glued on the door.
Aoi rushed to the flautist's side, leaning against the wall next to the door. His emerald green eyes looked at each person and said, "When I open this door, everybody shoot outside, OK? Try your best not to shoot me; otherwise, I'm obviously going to die."
Which I'll try not to, Azuma thought as he pointed his gun — a Desert Eagle — at the red metal door.
"On the count of three, you guys shoot," Aoi said, one hand resting on the handle, while the other gripped a Micro SMG.
"One . . . . Two . . . . Th—"
"Wait!" Kahoko yelled, halting the violist.
Everybody's eyes went to her small figure as she shifted uncomfortably on her ground.
"What is it, Hino?" Ryotaro asked rather impatiently. The sound of zombies pounding on the door was getting on his nerves.
"Well . . . can't we just call for help? I mean, does anyone here have a phone with them . . . .?"
Silence. Then all of them said 'no' in unison.
"Oh . . . ."
"Can we please get this over with?" Len sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
" . . . Yes."
Aoi cleared his throat, repositioned himself and held the handle of the door nervously, "One . . . . Two . . . . Three . . . . NOW!" He immediately ducked, as the door swung open and everybody began firing, including him.
There were so many zombies that they thought it was going to last forever. Fortunately, they had all the ammunition and things to protect them inside the room.
On the downside, there wasn't any food in store.
I just love guns. XD Hopefully, I might be able to finish this within a week's time. This is Part 1 of 3 of this story. (-; Please wait for the next one! And also, sorry about the OOCness and the confusing plot/scene change. ^ ^'
Please don't forget to review. ^ ^