A/N: I'm very surprised. THERE AREN'T ANY CHIAKIXKIYORA
FANFICS!!!!!! Oh well. That's all gonna change soon.
Enjoy :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Nodame Cantabile.
Flashback event 1.
The day he was substitute for that pervert maestro, she'd taken him away with her
charms.
The two had been going out for two and a half years then, this is going to hit the maximum bar now. They're getting married. Of course, they're both in their late twenties, twenty eight, nine or so. With this age, they definitely had some satisfaction when they still had pure, young hearts. Even so, this flashback happened way before the pure, young hearts part, it's a story that goes in a non-chronological order; jumpy, like their passionate duets that played smooth legatos and sharp staccatos. She coaxed him with her beautiful melodies. And looks too.
"Stop there. Stop, stop!" His voice ringing out into the full-notched music hall. One single command of his, silencing an orchestra of instruments.
"If you play this part as ta-la, ta-la. It will sound like a certain drunkard."
Snickers rippled across the room, as the memories of the hung-over maestro and his small attempts in conducting came into their minds. The young concertmistress couldn't contain her serenity, despite her position in maintaining a sensible orchestra.
She giggled too. The substitute conductor glanced at the concertmistress briefly;
"Well, let's start again from the second movement." His tone again reflected his prestige in standing on that small platform, just a meter away from her seat. Who knew that the meter would turn into scarce millimeters?
"Shinichi." She said, her breath perfumed with alcohol.
"Hnh?" He replied. Loosening the bowtie he'd had on for the entire day. Then sitting
up carefully from the king-sized bed, he leaned forward and into her anticipated
embrace. Ruining the perfectly done, hotel bed sheets. The two figures merged and formed one whole, it was like math; a half plus another half equaled to one whole.
The two bloomed together, showing the glass sphere of their pasts. Their performances together, her playing the violin. Every stroke she made, as the bow
scraped across the strings, his goose bumps pricked up. She would float, that was what he'd always think. And she did. Her hair flowing in the windless hall, you could almost see the crumbling maple tree leaves in the distance. That was what their performance was like. That night was the same as every other performance they'd been together. Her hair flowed even more wildly, his gentle hands gripped the baton as he conducted every tune, every melody, and every harmony there was in the orchestra; with the crumbling maple tree leaves in the distance. The lights dimmed, until you could only see one whole black shadow flickering, as the yellow curtains moved in rhythm on the one hundredth and seventy sixth floor of the royal suite hotel in Berlin.
A/N: How was that? CCs are very much welcome, anything else too. Just leave it
in the reviews :p thankyou!