Author's Notes: I do not own La Corda d'Oro; it's all written for fun and no profit whatsoever.
This is my first time using honorifics since I've been watching the subbed episodes (and they stuck in my head after awhile), so forgive me if I have made a mistake.
This takes place some time within the series. In this story, I'm following the manga events with the anime as a guide. Also, I've only read volumes 1-4 of the manga, and have watched episodes 1-4 and 7-14 of the anime, along with some detailed episode summaries. Hope the characterizations aren't done too badly.
Practice today went without an accompanist, and Shouko found sanctuary in the silence of only her clarinet and herself. There were too many thoughts running through her mind today that suddenly interfered with her sound, as a sour note reached her ears. Another one! Shouko sighed and rested her instrument on her lap. Perhaps it was time to head home. Going on half-heartedly would do her no good at all, serving only to muddle the musical piece she'd been attempting to play.
Slowly, she placed the clarinet inside its case and gathered the composition notes. One paper eluded her grasp, sailing towards the floor. Shouko bent to pick it up, and noticed a school notebook with Kahoko Hino's name written on the front; Kahoko must have been practicing yesterday in this room. A small smile spread across Shouko's lips. That girl could be so forgetful sometimes, but Kahoko's beauty and bright attitude more than made up for her absentmindedness.
Shouko's smile faded. She'd been thinking of Kahoko earlier, admiring the older girl, wishing to possess those traits that seemed to attract many.
"But I'm not," Shouko half-whispered. No, she was certainly not like her role model. Shouko didn't believe herself to be as a pretty, as out-going, and definitely did not have the backbone to stand up for herself. When the trio of Azuma Yunoki fans belittled her, Shouko found not being able to defend herself humiliating. Why couldn't the right words form on her lips? She didn't think herself as talented as the upperclassmen, like Len Tsukimori or Azuma Yunoki, but why did those girls have to blatantly point that out? Believing it herself was bad enough, but she sure didn't need anyone else to inform her of that fact.
That was one of the reasons why she looked up to Kahoko; the girl had at first been without an accompanist, yet still strode on stage defiantly, choosing to see her commitment to the end. Shouko didn't know what she would have done had she been in that situation. Kahoko ended up placing last, but didn't seem to dwell on it. If anything, she seemed happy, regardless!
Shouko closed her instrument case, her thoughts jumping to the next. With Kahoko and the concours on her mind, it was only natural that she'd think about the other participants, who happened to all be male. She was in the same section of the school with them all but Ryoutarou Tsuchiura, yet barely knew them at all. Kahoko, however, befriended all of them, casting a light so bright that even the indifferent Len couldn't possibly escape the warmth. And it was plain and clear to see that some of them were very attracted to Kahoko.
But nobody would be attracted to her, Shouko concluded. And no one really made a serious attempt at conversation with her, save for Kahoko. Not that Shouko had expected to be the center of attention; making friends didn't come easily for her as a new student to high school, and dealing with rival musicians made it worse. Even Nami Amou was difficult to talk to, for the journalist-in-training would be all over the place, interviewing, popping questions here and there. She was almost as loud as Kazuki, and interacting with loud people wasn't quiet Shouko's specialty.
Frustrated tears pricked and tickled at her eyes. Shouko picked up her case, the notebook to return the next day, her schoolbag, and made her way to the door. Time to head home where her parents would most likely be too busy to notice their own daughter.
Why was life so complicated?
Rare bitterness crept into her soul. A few tears trickled downward.
The halls were silent save for the faint, lingering melody of Len's violin from the practice room next door.
Before she even reached the main door, Ryoutarou stepped out from the first practice room, his school bag slung over his shoulder, crossing her path. Shouko quickly wiped at her eyes.
"Are you all right, Fuyuumi-san?"
So much for covering up her dejectedness. Shouko reddened in response, and forced herself to nod, feeling rather intimidated by his height. "O-Oh, I'm fine, Tsuchiura-senpai." She bowed her head to avoid his eyes, hoping he'd take a hint and leave ahead of her. No need to burden him with her discontentment.
"Oh...OK." Ryoutarou paused. "Shoot, I forgot something." He ducked back in his practice room.
Shouko took that opportunity to leave.
A gorgeous sunset lightened her mood a bit, but not a whole lot to make her smile. She knew she ought to be getting home to complete her homework, and maybe give practice another shot, but she just couldn't find the will to do so. Half of her simply wanted to do whatever she wanted, to do whatever it took to take her mind off her troubles. Staying put and watching the picturesque scene before her – the rays of light touching upon the city's skyline and the park bench she sat on – showed the most promise of relieving her of her sorrow.
"Nice evening, huh?"
Shouko almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of Ryoutarou's voice. "Tsuchiura-senpai!"
The athlete stood a little ways from her bench, a gentle smile and penetrating eyes that for her seemed to suggest he could see through her clearly, as if he knew something.
Shouko looked at his shoes instead, unable to meet his gaze any longer, wishing she could blend in with the the bushes behind her. "W-What are you doing here?"
"Just taking a walk. Mind if I sit down?"
Shouko shook her head, and moved to more to one side, giving enough room to sit. Ryoutarou set his school bag against the opposite bench side, and plopped down on the bench, relaxing his shoulders.
Being a great conversationalist wasn't her strong point. Shouko hoped he would say something soon.
"Actually, I just came to see if you were all right..." Out of the corner of her eye, he seemed to shift uncomfortably in his seat before glancing at her. "It looked like you were or had been crying...I thought maybe those girls had been after you again."
Shouko reddened, recalling the fact that he been around that time when Kahoko spoke up for her shy friend. Now, Ryoutarou was apparently concerned about her, and Shouko felt ridiculous that one too many people felt the need to look out for her.
"So...were you?"
No point in dodging such a direct question. "I..." Her tongue suddenly felt dry. They had never really spoken before, so why pour out her feelings? Granted, she felt like her thoughts would explode if she didn't get it out of her system, and she knew that such concerns would affect her performance.
"Uh, well, you don't have to answer if you don't want to."
Oh, no! She hadn't wanted to offend him at all. In fact, it was rather considerate of him to want to help out. "I'm sorry...please don't feel like you need to stay. I-I don't want to be a burden."
"A burden?" he echoed, arching an eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"
Shouko stared at her twiddling fingers. "You probably have important things to do."
"Well...that's my worry, isn't it?" Ryoutarou smiled.
She knew she was always apologizing. Kahoko had shown kindness, and now Ryoutarou. What had she done to deserve such unselfishness? Nothing except being a spineless, emotional coward.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
Shouko furiously wiped at her tears. "I'm sorry, Tsuchiura-senpai." She stood shakily to her feet and reached for her schoolbag and clarinet case. "I-I'm just going to head home now. T-Thank you for your concern."
She began walking towards the park exit, but Ryoutarou caught up with his long, easy strides. "At least let me walk you home since it's getting dark," he said, falling in stride with her.
"But, senpai—"
"And don't give me that 'burden' line, OK?" Ryoutarou pursed his lips before sighing. "Sorry... I didn't mean it like that."
Shouko flushed in embarrassment, but nodded numbly. "T-Thank you."
They walked on in awkward silence, the sunlight fading bit by bit on their backs. Once more, her earlier feelings threatened to surface and make themselves known. She didn't want to break down, but what she felt needed was a willing ear to listen. But Ryoutarou? He wasn't as exuberant as Kazuki or as unfeeling as Len, but Ryoutarou was still unpredictable, to her, at least. Shouko chewed on her lower lip. Perhaps she could ask him just one question, and that would be all. Maybe her mother wouldn't be too preoccupied this evening to hear the rest. "Tsuchiura-senpai?"
"Yeah?"
"D-Do you...ever wish you were s-someone else?" The inquiry fell out of her mouth without hesitation, and Shouko instantly regretted it. What was she thinking? Of course he wouldn't wish like that! He seemed like the confident type.
But his answer surprised her. "Sometimes."
She glanced at the male teenager. Ryoutarou was athletic and gifted as a pianist, someone everyone admired, even from within the Music Student Body; who could he possibly wish to be more like?
Ryoutarou turned at the moment to meet her eyes. "Why? Do you?"
Shouko looked away, closing her eyes briefly. "Yes."
Ryoutarou nodded. "Happens to all of us." He took a deep breath. "But what can you do, right? No matter how hard you try, you can't be that other person. You can only be yourself."
"What if you are unhappy with yourself?" she wanted to ask, but didn't dare say it out loud.
Soon, they came to her neighborhood and in front of her home. Ryoutarou gave a low whistle. "And I thought your vacation home was big," he muttered, blinking. He turned to her, one hand behind head. "Well...see you tomorrow."
Shouko bowed. "Thank you for walking me home, a-and for answering my question," she finished softly.
"No problem." Ryoutarou smiled warmly. "Whatever was bothering you before, don't let it get you down, all right?"
Shouko finally found the courage to smile, vaguely wondering why her heart suddenly fluttered. "Thank you."
Truth be told, he'd never realized that there was more to the bashful girl than what he knew at first glance. He knew of her admiration towards Kahoko, for he'd once overheard the two of them talking and complimenting one another (wasn't that just like girls?). Ryoutarou had a good idea of who the person Shouko must be wishing to be like was. He, too, had so often desired to be like his idol, Len's mother, ever since the first time he had heard her play. She played so beautifully, and Ryoutarou had believed his own playing paled in comparison.
However, Kahoko had changed that thought – among others – significantly when she led him to playing the piano again. Ryoutarou knew he'd never be able to convey properly how grateful he was for her encouragement, and knowing that he could do the same for someone else brought a smile to his face. Shouko would need to learn on her own that she didn't have to be like Kahoko or anyone else to be somebody, that she was special as her own person, regardless. He held the utmost confidence that Shouko Fuyuumi would come to understand that truth all in good time. On that day, her greatest accomplishment would be that she herself believed it.
Author's Notes: Just thought it would be cute if Shouko had the faintest hint of a crush on Ryoutarou (he's relatively easy to like, don't you think?). Plus, I like writing friendship-centered pieces. Again, hope it wasn't too bad.