Disclaimer: All theirs, not mine.
Title: Scales
Rating: General
Category: Angst
Summary: Ignorance may be bliss. Oblivion isn't. Miki and Nanami 673-word drabble, post-anime. (Submitted to LiveJournal Utenadrabble community challenge as a gift for sansenmage.)
Spoilers: Minor.
Scales
Fencing's over, and he's strolling homeward through the red-gold afternoon dappling the campus. That's when he hears her: fingers treading heavily up the scale of C. The musician in him flinches; the longtime Student Council member in him wonders who has dared to touch the piano without signing up in his reservation book. He takes the steps several at a time, but quietly, and enters at the rear of the rehearsal studio.
She's on her way back down the scale now—back held straight as though for a deportment lesson, blonde hair waving down the back of her traditional yukata. It's only the limping notes that mar the tableau.
Miki's own shoulders slump slightly. It's never been easy to reason with Nanami. Still, he approaches, clearing his throat.
She turns on the seat. "Mickey!" She sounds genuinely glad to see him.
"I didn't know you were interested in the piano." Miki sits down at the other side of the bench, back to the keyboard.
Nanami takes her hands off the keys. "You have a problem with it?"
It isn't the response Miki expected. "N-no," he says, glancing sideways at her. It's been several weeks, he realized, since the two of them last had a conversation. Far longer since they talked at length, probably not since Nanami left Student Council—
Miki's thoughts screech sideways, discordant. He finds he's reached into his pocket for the stopwatch he no longer carries. A week ago he entrusted it to Tsuwabuki, who has become the youngest Council member (and secretary) in school history.
Nanami is studying him thoughtfully. After a moment, she stoops to rummage in a wicker carrier next to the bench. "Tea?" she says, proffering a thermos.
"Not at the piano."
"Such a stickler. Well, over by the window, then."
They settle into two folding chairs, their hands wrapped around cups of still-hot green tea. Miki sips and eyes his companion, who is staring out the window.
Following her gaze, Miki looks down at the footpath that runs next to the music building. Three girls have paused there; their excited conversation is punctuated by a burst of giggles. They seem vaguely familiar.
Aiko, Yuuko and Keiko, his memory supplies. Nanami's hangers-on—
He looks back at Nanami, startled. She's watching them without expression, holding her cup to her lips.
Abruptly, she speaks. "Are you happy, Mickey?"
"Happy? Of—why shouldn't I be?" Miki feels oddly trapped by the question. He casts about in his mind. He is happy—happy that Kozue is somehow more settled these days, happy that they're almost friends again. Happy that music once again flows from his pen—light, inconsequential tunes, but new ones. Happy in the added responsibility Juri's given him on the fencing team. Happy to have relinquished his role as Council secretary.
Definitely happy that he no longer wears the—
There's that warning screech in his head.
Nanami's looking at him.
"Something—" he starts, then stops.
"Something's missing." Nanami has set down her cup. Her long pale fingers twist together like young snakes.
"Yes." It wrenches out like a confession; she's still staring at him. "But I can't remember. I hate it that I can't remember."
"Mickey—"
"What?"
"You don't have to push past it. Not for me." Nanami dips her head, stills her hands. "Not if you're doing all right yourself."
"Aren't you—happy?"
Nanami's smile twists. "Big brother's kinder to me than he has been in years."
"That's good…" Miki says hesitantly.
"…but it's been months since I looked him in the eye."
Suddenly, her thin shoulders are shaking. Without thought, Miki finds himself on one knee beside her chair, taking her hand in his.
Teary eyes look down at him in surprise and near-anger.
"This isn't…" she hisses. "I don't need a prince."
Something chimes distantly inside Miki, and he lets go of her hand. Still, he holds her gaze.
"How about a friend?"
Red jumps to her cheeks.
Miki stands and walks to the piano. "Come on," he says over his shoulder. "Let's play."
—fin—