As one fingertip danced lightly across the keys yellowed with age, Nodame looked out at her audience. Faces belonging to those as young as three years old looked back at her; enamoured with her rendition of Beethoven's piano sonata.
With a small smile, she turned back to her beloved piano, mouth falling back into its usual pout. Only when the final note reverberated through the air, and the quiet collapsed into an explosion of noise that only young children are capable of, did Nodame step away from the piano.
Yet, if one were to pay close attention, one would notice that her hands never strayed far from the elegant curve of the glossy black oak, even as she ushered the children out for their parents to pick them up. It was almost as if her hands had minds of their own, and were as enamoured with the instrument as the kids were with her just moments before.
Nodame tilted her face to greet the last golden rays of the evening filtering through the curtains, and let her gaze drop to rest lightly on the battered copy of the sonata score. For a brief moment, the strains of a time past trickled into her mind, the faint echoes of a first duet together.
Ah, but it always led back to him, didn't it? Years after Nodame had run away from her old life into her lifelong dream of becoming a kindergarten teacher, she still found her thoughts drifting back to him every now and then. He had no way of contacting her. How could he? When she made sure to cover her tracks so carefully. It was almost as if she had vanished so cleanly, she never left a speck of dust on his life. That was good, wasn't it? Chiaki senpai never did like leaving a speck of anything on his things after all.
How odd was it that even though she was the one who sped away, abandoned him before he could abandon her, he was the one who occupied her thoughts all the time? Every mention of him in the news, every little review of his latest performance, she read them all. Kept them tucked away safely in a corner of her mind so that she could pull them out once everyone had gone back, for a private viewing of the life that she had left behind.
He looks like he's doing well, she would tell herself. By god he sure did. Absolutely no signs of him ever missing her, ever missing the playful melodies she created; whole new worlds from pieces in ways that he had never before comprehended. She knew that he had drawn inspiration from her music, but that was all it was, she told herself. If anything, he would miss the fodder she provided for his creativity, and not her.
A finger sank into the keyboard and a muted note eased into the air tentatively, mirroring her emotions. Perhaps, just perhaps, if she decided to leave a note with someone to bring to him, maybe he would come look for her?
It was a thought that she had entertained every day for four years, ever since the day that she had vanished. Yet, she never let it go further for fear of caving. How satisfying would it be to see him flying down the front yard and bursting into the room? How would it feel for him to scoop her into his arms and lead her out and down the steps, while the children shrieked with ecstasy about a prince here to spirit her away? How would all of that feel when she remembered that he was now betrothed to Son Rui and would never do anything, never even actually lift a finger because now he would be able to find a worthy muse in his new love?
That hurt the most. Not the marriage proposal, but the muse. She had been his muse, his one and only, and now that had been taken from her.
Nodame sat down at the piano and coaxed a wane melody from the instrument. She wanted so hard to believe that every car that puttered down the street outside would screech to a stop, wanted to believe that she'd hear her name called out in that same rough way that would bring her heart to a stop.
Instead, she glanced around the room at the things that surrounded her. Block toys, colouring books and teddy bears with smug smiles lay scattered around on the ground. If this were a picture, one look would be enough to tell others about her profession. Kindergarten teacher, it screamed.
So if she had already achieved her lifelong goal of becoming a kindergarten teacher, she wondered, why did it feel like the dream was the one that she had left behind?