Tenchi Muyo! Ryo-ohki is the creation of Masaki Kajishima and Hiroki Hayashi. Gentlemen, I salute you!
Bad Ideas Gone Wrong Productions Presents
Teaching Little Fingers to Play
A Tenchi Muyo! Fanfic by Geoduck
Kagato closed his eyes as he played. It was almost finished...his latest masterpiece...
`Played' is perhaps an inadequate word to describe Kagato at the console of his instrument. The fingers of both hands were all in motion, as were both feet at the pedals. Other keys and stops on the organ were moving as if by some unseen force, as if Kagato's will itself was exercising his organ to its fullest potential. The piece he was playing was a contrapuntal masterpiece so complex as to make a mere human such as Bach dizzy.
Kagato almost smiled as the many different voices in the fugue slowly reached their inevitable, triumphant conclusion.
"So, is that the theme from `Star Wars' or something?"
For a fraction of an instant, this bit of ignorant criticism threw his timing off. Not much...but long enough for the piece to end in cacophony.
Normally, disturbing Kagato's organ time was grounds for annihilation. Not in Ryoko's case, however. As much as he might have liked to have snuffed out her miserable existence, she was still SLIGHTLY more valuable to him as a tool than as a corpse. Not by much, though.
He smiled evilly. Evilly enough to make children faint, strong men to go weak in the knees, and even Chuck Norris to cry like a little girl. "Why, Ryoko," he remarked, "I'm surprised that you could be so uncultured. Isn't it obvious that it's one of my own original compositions?"
"Yeah, whatever," Ryoko said, looking for an escape route. `Crap...I forgot that whenever I bug him, he starts lecturing about his music...'
"What you heard just now what my latest composition...a 24-part fugue that I improvised, based on an extraordinarily complex theme that was inspired by the death rattle of Togata Dazai, a Juraian noble who I killed by scraping all his skin off with a butter knife. I thought the piece really captured the essence of the agony of an excruciatingly horrible death."
Kagato continued in that vein for some time. All Ryoko heard was "Fugato...blah blah...counterpoint...blah blah blah...a scream as his life was extinguished...blah blah..." `Geez, he's boring,' she thought.
Kagato paused in his lecture. It was time for her to praise his brilliant musical achievements.
Ryoko started suddenly. `Crap, did he stop talking? Great, now I have to act like I was paying attention, or the lecture will go on all night...'
"Uh, yeah. So, uh..." Sucking up was not something Ryoko was good at. "Um, uh... How did you start playing the organ, anyway?"
Kagato was mildly surprised. He was not expecting her to ask a question. However, like most 5000-year-old entities, he was somewhat fond of reminiscing about his salad days.
"How I started playing the organ..." he mused.
Ryoko was horrified to discover that she was being pulled into a flashback.
"Kagato! KAGATO!"
Kagato looked up from his book. "What does that woman want now?"
"I'm right in the room here with you, Kagato, so I would prefer if you would not refer to me in the third person," his mother said to him, glaring. "It's time for your piano lessons."
"Piano lessons? What an absurd waste of my time. Do you expect me to set aside the mysteries of the universe, so that I can train these fingers to pick out some wretched little tune on an obsolete musical instrument for the entertainment of you and your loathsome friends? Your willful and profound ignorance disgusts me."
"Kagato! I know that you love me and you don't really mean those things you say, but I am getting the distinct impression that you are becoming a bit insolent. It's time for your piano lessons. Now."
Kagato muttered as he trudged to the horrors of the piano. Although his mother's ignorance was its own punishment, he felt that it wasn't quite enough. Perhaps something involving electric eels...
His teacher drummed her fingers impatiently. "You've certainly kept me waiting, Kagato. Are you ready for your lesson?"
Kagato spoke haughtily as he approached the piano. "Let's get this unpleasantness over with as quickly as possible. I will play your irritating little tunes, you will give me the usual castigation for not playing with `feeling', and then we can blissfully ignore each other's troublesome existence for seven more days."
As he reached towards the keyboard, she grabbed his wrists. "Miss Ayeka...you seem to be attempting to extend this disagreeable 'lesson.' This wasn't part of our deal, I believe."
"Your hands, Mr. Kagato, are dirty. Very dirty. Filthy, in fact. I won't allow you to touch the piano until you wash your hands."
"My hands are filthy? Only if knowledge itself is considered to be foul. Of course, with the obscenely ignorant people I'm forced to deal with, present company INcluded, that would not surprise me."
Miss Ayeka's eyes glittered dangerously, as her mouth formed a sneer. "Wash your hands. Or else. You don't want to find out what `else' is, do you?"
Kagato gritted his teeth and went to wash his hands. The last time he called her on `or else', he ended up performing in a recital in the retirement home cafeteria. Sometimes in his nightmares he still saw those horribly old people eating...a sight that made him wish he could poke out his mind's eye.
He returned to the piano, sat on the bench, and opened the hated book.
"What piece are you playing for me, Mr. Kagato?"
Kagato scowled. "The piece that you told me to play."
"Yes. What piece is that?"
His scowl deepened. "The piece on page 23."
"What is the NAME of the piece on page 23, Mr. Kagato?"
"Don't make me say it. If you value your life, you won't make me say it."
"I'm waiting, Mr. Kagato."
Kagato closed his eyes. "`The Happy Little Bluebird,' you evil harridan. I hope you know you'll burn in hell for this."
With that, Ayeka smiled beatifically, and allowed him to play the relentlessly and brainlessly cheerful piece to its horrific conclusion. The only way Kagato finished it was by promising a horrible revenge on the composer--killing him painfully, and/or defiling his grave.
"So, Mr. Kagato, from your playing today, one thing is perfectly clear."
"That I hate you, the piano, this book, and this relentlessly banal music?"
"That you haven't been practicing your scales. Your playing is choppy and your fingering is very clumsy."
"Scales? You expect me to waste the valuable minutes of my life playing SCALES? I'll have you know that my sense of tone is perfect, and I have flawless hand/eye coordination. Your demand that I play `scales' makes about as much sense as forcing a fish to take swimming lessons."
"So, you didn't practice your scales. I'll just have to ask your mother to make sure you practice them three times as often in this coming week, hmm?"
"I hope you die soon."
And the rest of the lesson proceeded just as happily as it had begun.
As soon as his lesson was over, Kagato followed Miss Ayeka to make certain she was out of the house. Just a little formality...he didn't want to run the risk that that evil entity actually felt welcome in his home.
"`Happy Little Bluebird.' You'll pay for that," he was heard to mutter.
Later that day, Kagato went to speak with his mother. She could tell it was important, both by his serious demeanor, and by the firm grip he had around the neck of her favorite cat.
"Mother, we need to talk. And you know what will happen if this conversation doesn't proceed according to my satisfaction."
She sighed...she lost more cats that way.
"Very well, son, what do you want this time?"
"I refuse to continue studying that infernal instrument any longer, and the less time I can spend in the company of that purple-haired harpy, the better."
"Well, what do you intend to do instead? I know that you have your heart set on going to the Galaxy Science Academy, but their entrance requirements include knowledge of humanities and performing arts as well. And for you, that means music lessons."
Kagato's hands tightened--the cat yowled. "Then, another instrument. Any instrument. I DON'T CARE!"
"Trumpet?"
"What? No! I refuse to have anything to do with any instrument that has a `spit valve.'" Kagato shuddered.
"A string instrument?"
"Too Freudian."
"Percussion?"
"Oh, come ON, mother, I'm perfectly secure in my own sexuality." The cat was rapidly turning blue and flailing about with all limbs.
"Something with a keyboard then? Harpsichord? Celesta? Ondes Martenot? Synthesizer? Accordion?"
"You're toying with me, aren't you? You're ENJOYING this!"
"Organ?"
"Ah. Organ. So the truth comes to light. You think I'm destined to become a stereotypical mad scientist! Yes, you do, don't bother lying! You expect me to play an organ, tapping out a few toccatas and fugues, while pondering how I'll subjugate all of civilization, and extinguish the lives of those who oppose me! You expect me to sit in front of an impossibly huge instrument, and take my little musical pleasures in the face of weeping women and children, after I've casually slaughtered their husbands and fathers! Do you think I'll be happy playing an instrument that can, by itself, drown out entire orchestras? Do you think that SIZE and POWER impress me that much?"
"So...uh...something else?"
"Jezebel! Of COURSE I'll play the organ! And to celebrate, I'm going to destroy Miss Ayeka's house with my orbital lasers!"
Of course, he didn't really have orbital lasers yet. Not until he finished the sixth grade.
As Kagato finished his story, so enraptured as he was in his memories, he barely noticed that Ryoko was sound asleep.
"...and so, that's how I realized that the organ was the ideal medium for my artistic expression."
If Ryoko had been particularly empathetic (or conscious), she might have noticed a slight reticence as Kagato said this. As if there were deeper memories...things still unsaid...unresolved issues from his childhood.
Without making any sound, Kagato unconsciously moved his lips, as if to say, "Rosebud."
Far away, across the galaxy, floating in space, were the ruins of a planet. Giant chunks of land...fragments of destroyed buildings...the detritus of a once great civilization.
If an observer searched carefully through this planetary grave, he might have found an ancient musical instrument. A kazoo. And if he looked very carefully, he might have seen the child-like etching on the side. "Rosebud."
FINIS
And now, ladies and gentlemen, for your edification...a deleted scene from "Teaching Little Fingers to Play"
Ryoko: So, when did you start playing the organ, anyway?
Kagato: Hmm...
*FLASHBACK MODE*
Kagato's Mom: Why do you spend so much time in the bathroom? WHY?
Kagato: Don't open the door! DON'T OPEN THE DOOR!
*SNAP OUT OF FLASHBACK MODE*
Kagato: Hey! That's not how it happened! That wasn't even MY flashback!
Since this is a spamfic, please don't bother pointing out the anachronisms, inaccuracies, and contradictions. You'll only embarrass us both. Yes, obviously, Ayeka was not around during Kagato's childhood, but honestly... can you think of a better piano teacher for him?
Thanks for help and advice and prereading go to renowned Kagatophile Evil Asian Genius. And my demented brother Arcturus.
And if this fic inspires even one person to find out what an "Ondes Martenot" is, I'll feel like I've made a difference.
The title "The Happy Little Bluebird" was borrowed from the writings of Patrick McManus.