~Salut D'Amour~
The room is huge. So large is it that one can hardly call it a room. In fact, it somewhat resembles a football stadium, dismissing the fact that it is completely indoors. It is also very brightly lit, with great, white lights hanging on every wall, and glass windows that run around the stadium reaching from the floor to the ceiling. In the middle of the day, the concert hall is pleasant and clear, but now at night, the beauty of it comes alive: the dazzling lights can be seen from three blocks away.
They say light is the only real source of happiness, of life, of hope.
I pull the curtain closed and detach myself from the light, stepping into the black of the small practicing room.
Friendship…something that revives courage and strength. Something that can pull one out of hard times.
Who needs it?
In my hands, I carry a flute—silver and beautiful. What better way to bring light to others than to play such a melodious instrument? I bring the flute to my lips and practice my piece quietly, knowing exactly where to tap my fingers, even in such darkness. Everything is as it should be—the piece flows delicately and the sound is crisp. However, underneath the light tune, darkness lurks and passes through most as only water under a bridge.
They say it is the darkness in one's soul that can crush the heart of any living being.
I drop my flute from my lips and take a moment to listen to the music of a violin duet. The piece—Ave Maria—is beautiful, and has always been one of my favorites, but something in the way it is played makes me feel empty. Perhaps it is because I know of two people who can play it so beautifully that, if they were to be performing it instead of the two who are performing now, there would be not a single dry eye left in the audience.
As the piece ends, I close my eyes. Who am I performing with today? Will I be playing with the same Hihara-san, Tsukimori-kun, Tsuchiura-kun, and Shimizu-kun whom I played with five years ago, or have they changed beyond the point of recognition? I began to wonder about little things. Has Shimizu-kun grown to be as tall as Tsuchiura-kun? Was Tsukimori-kun successful in his studies overseas? I grip my flute tighter. Is Kazuki still my best friend?
The door opens, and light floods the practicing room. "Yunoki-senpai?"
I freeze, recognizing the voice and becoming afraid to turn around, most likely because I fear the moment when I must look at how much my old friends have changed. I breathe out slowly, relaxing myself, and turn around, smiling politely and making sure to show none of the fear that I feel building up inside of me. "Yes?"
A tall young man stands before me, gazing at me sleepily through brilliant blue, half-opened eyes. His short blonde-colored hair falls in delicate curls, some of it hanging in his eyes. He seems to know what I am thinking, and pushes his bangs back a little. His hand is wrapped tightly around the neck of a cello, which he must have purchased sometime after I last saw him play, because this cello is a beautiful, rich auburn color, not the light maple color of his previous one. He looks me up and down rather skeptically. "You haven't changed much." He states tersely.
I try to chuckle, even though years of hardship makes it harder for me to laugh. "Oh, but you have no idea of how much you have changed, Keiichi-kun." I have to look up in order for our eyes to meet, and lean forward, taking a closer look at him. "But then again, you're still the sleepy, straightforward Shimizu that you've always been."
He nods seriously, as though nothing has changed between us. As if we'd seen each other every day up until today. "When you stop paying attention to big things, and only concentrate on the little things, time gets away and you haven't changed. It's always been that way." He explains, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. My mind quickly flashes back to the times he told me that he could practice a whole night without realizing how much time had gone by.
Time passes, and we stand in an unbearable silence, both thinking furiously about what to say. Finally, I ask, "Have you kept in contact with anyone over the past years?"
Keiichi's eyes seem to brighten at the sound of my question. "I haven't seen Tsukimori at all since he left, but every once in a while I see Hihara-senpai and Tsuchiura-senpai at the park. Sometimes I see Hino-senpai there, too, but I don't talk to her because she is always practicing." He sucks in his breath sharply. "And Fuyumi-chan is…" His words are a whisper and his face is a pale shade of pink. "…my girlfriend."
His statement catches me off guard, and for a moment my eyes are wide with shock. Luckily, I mask my emotion with a gracious smile before he notices. Pride…is something I cannot lose. "Congratulations, Keiichi-kun. I'm very happy for you."
"I should go. Tsuchiura is here." Keiichi informs me, laying his cello down on its side and motioning towards the open door. "He said he wanted to meet you personally."
Another green-haired man pokes his head into the room as Keiichi-kun leaves. "Ready now?" He asks impatiently. Although he tries to keep his expression serious, a mocking smile illustrates his true emotion. He steps into the room and his smirk disappears when he sees me. "It's been a while, Yunoki-senpai." His expression is cold as stone, and his muscles seem tense. "Five years as of today."
"Yes." I reply, brushing my hair back and smirking. "I hope you've practiced, Tsuchiura-kun. I hope everyone has practiced. We haven't played a piece together in five years, and I would hate it if anyone were to mess up."
"Don't worry." Ryoutaro says through gritted teeth. "I won't."
I chuckle lightly. "Good. I take it that Tsukimori-kun has yet to arrive?" I ask. Looking at Tsuchiura, I realize that not much has changed about him. He is still the same height that he was five years ago; Shimizu-kun is now almost as tall as he is. Perhaps it is the fact that he is more muscular that distinguishes him from himself back at Seisou.
Ryoutaro relaxes a little, and smiles as he rubs the back of his neck. "He'll be here soon. We've all been wanting to see how much you two have changed. None of us has seen you nor Len since Seisou." He looks at my face. "But you haven't changed much at all."
"So Shimizu-kun says as well." I reply, smiling warmly. "How's Kahoko?"
Tsuchiura's eyes widen, and he looks away, blushing furiously. "She's…well." He manages to say. "I don't see her often anymore, but when I talked to her last, she told me that she couldn't wait to hear us all play together again."
"I can't wait to play with you all again." I agree. "So, do you know if Hino's going to be here tonight?"
Ryoutaro snorts. "Probably. She's been raving about how much she can't wait to see Tsukimori-kun again. It's unlike her."
Keiichi-kun enters the room and picks up his cello slowly but purposefully, looking at us curiously. "Tsukimori-senpai and Hino-senpai are here." He notifies us, and straightens himself as if he wants to make a good impression.
"Ah." Ryoutaro smiles as Len and Kahoko walk in to the practicing room. "You haven't even turned on the light? Really, guys…" Kahoko sighs as she flips the light switch. I am only powerful in the dark…
"Yunoki-senpai, Shimizu-kun, Tsuchiura-kun, it's good to see you all again." Len states politely, but there is a hint of bitterness in his voice. I examine him closely, making sure not to be obvious. He has gotten taller—now he is about as tall as Tsuchiura-kun—and his face has definitely matured some, but other than that, he seems almost exactly the same as the Tsukimori-kun I knew.
"Likewise, Tsukimori-kun." I say, grinning. "How were your studies abroad?"
Len smiles—such a rare occasion this is. "In my honest opinion, I think it went very well. I had been planning to play the Ave Maria duet with one of my friends, but…" He gazes down at Kahoko. "…I realized that the only person I can ever play it with, is you, Kahoko." He whispers softly, and for a moment, the room is silent.
Ryoutaro coughs impatiently. "Yeah, well, glad to hear it went well. Where's Hihara-senpai?" He asks gruffly. I freeze at the sound of his name.
Shimizu rubs his eyes sleepily. "He should be here any m—"
"GOD, I'm late again!" A panicked voice shouts from the hallway. A green-haired man skids into the room, running a hand through his hair anxiously. He greets everyone hastily. "Hey, Keiichi-kun, Ryoutaro, Kaho-chan. Len-kun, you're back!" He exclaims, running up and shaking Tsukimori-kun's hand ecstatically. He looks a lot younger than he really is—like he just graduated from high school—although something in his eyes shows me he is older. I notice his clothing for the first time: a black shirt with a yellow-and-red-striped vest buttoned over it and dark red, tight pants. I remember the outfit all too well. The man looks up at me with intense, wild golden-brown eyes, and freezes. "A-Azuma-san?" His voice quakes slightly.
"You're not late." I inform him politely. "Goodness, Kazuki-san! You look like you haven't aged a day." I try to smile at him, but painful memories flood my mind and make it hard. "Keiichi-kun is the same height as you are, now."
"He had time to grow. I didn't." He says tritely, putting his trumpet down on the floor. "What have you been up to lately?" He asks casually, as if we hadn't been separated for five years.
I shrug, and brush my hair back tenderly. "Helping out my family's business. It's my duty."
Kazuki looks at me solemnly, which makes me somewhat worried about him. He opens up his trumpet case and leaves it on the floor, not bothering to take out his trumpet. "Have you been playing flute at all?"
I sigh, realizing that I had always known he would ask this on the day we met again. "No, I have not kept up with my musical studies. Although I have been practicing more now that Kanazawa-sensei asked us to perform tonight." I looked up at him. "Have you kept up with your trumpet playing?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kahoko usher everyone else out of the room, and I turn back to face Kazuki. He looks down. My heart thuds in my chest, though I make sure to hide my emotion. It was so unlike him to act so gravely, as if he now lacked that energy he once had. How I would love to see him smile…
Kazuki sighs. "No. I haven't been playing seriously since you…" He stops himself, and quickly corrects his statement. "…since we graduated."
I stare at him, hoping that if I look at him long enough, I might be able to pry some more answers out of him. "Tell me the truth, Kazuki-san. It's very strange that you chose not to keep up with your musical studies. You were always pushing me to."
Suddenly his head whips up and he glares at me. "Azuma, you're a better musician than I am and you know it! Why do I deserve to continue to play music if you quit?" He takes a threatening step closer, so that he is towering over me. "I don't. Azuma, I don't deserve to play music! It's unfair that you can't play just because your Grandmother says you can't! It's unfair that you're not allowed to be better than your brothers in anything." He wipes his eyes, and it is only now that I realize that his eyes are wet. "It's unfair that you can't play music and I can. It's so unfair…"
I'm at a loss for words, feeling like I'm hopelessly searching for a key in the darkness. Finally, I choke, "Life's unfair, Kazuki. So make the most of what you have."
Kazuki doesn't respond, and I begin to wonder if he still thinks of me as his friend. After all I'd done to him, I really don't expect him to. "Kazuki-san?" I ask, trying to keep my composure. "Am I still your best friend?"
Before I even get a chance to blink, Kazuki lunges towards me and tackles me to the ground. "Of course you're still my best friend, idiot!" He shouts, and hugs me with so much force it knocks the wind out of me. "God, you're so stupid and selfish that you don't even bother to wonder about how much I miss my best friend!" He pouts as if he's a little child, just the same way he used to.
I heave myself to my feet and help Kazuki up as well. My composure is damaged, slightly—my face feels hot and something inside of me breaks. Shatters like glass. He doesn't hate me…My best friend doesn't hate me.
"We should go. The piece is ending, and we're next." I say, quickly pulling myself together and taking my flute.
Kazuki nods, silently, but I can see a smile grace his lips. He takes his trumpet, and we leave the practicing room and walk out into the hallway, where Kahoko, Ryoutaro, Len, and Keiichi patiently await our arrival. I smile at them. "Thank you, Kahoko." I say, expressing my gratitude as best I can.
"I have my best friend back…" Kazuki mumbles, and Ryoutaro smiles.
"Salut D'Amour." I brush my fingertips along the length of my flute. "The piece we played after the final selection, remember?" I look up at all of them, grateful that they are all nodding and smiling encouragingly. "Salut D'Amour means…Love's greeting. A piece about new beginnings, about happiness, not just love. It could mean friendship." In that moment, looking at them all, I realize that they are my friends. Who needs friends?
I do.
I watch their expressions soften one by one as if they all are beginning to realize what I just discovered is true. Wordlessly, we make our way onto the stage. No one speaks. We don't need to.
The piece begins.
Salut D'Amour.
Author's Note:
Hi everyone! So, I'm really glad I'm finally done writing this. I wanted to try a Yunoki-centric fic, but it turned out to be a whole lot harder than I would have liked. Anyways, I'm glad it's done, and I hope you all like it. Read and review, please!
