A/N: This was supposed to be my entry for the KEYS prompt by Christine-chan in our FB group. But considering I had trouble with finishing it on time, decided not to submit it under said Monthly Prompt. But I thought it would be such a waste to just leave it unfinished and thus explain this post. I want to share my take on the prompt and I hope you'll like it. To those who looked forward to this entry in the MP (Monthly Prompt), I really apologize for disappointing you. *bows*
And now, on with the story. Happy reading.^^,
Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda D'Oro and its characters.
~.~
Title: Unravelling Freedom
Authoress: tuNGaw_GiRL
Summary: Every key denotes something of him and he realized that with them, he'll be set free.
Genre: Drama/Friendship
Rating: K+
Pairing: None
~.~
He held himself.
Unobtrusive, restrained and ignorant. For his very being and awareness were withheld in chains, bound together in a deadlock that no one had ever released; encircling his eyes to blind him; enfolding his ears to deaf him; shrouding his nose to suffocate him; obscuring his mouth to cripple his words; and shielding his hands to numb his touch.
And as he remained at a standstill, paralyzed and shackled, he lived his dying life.
~.~
Slap!
Everybody froze, completely stunned.
Yunoki Azuma stifled his pain as he held his swollen cheek, all the while biting off his lower lip to keep himself from actually snapping at his grandmother.
"You insolent child! How dare you take on something so preposterous?"
The flute player made a fist. He had been keeping himself in check, holding back the things he, in fact, had wanted to say from the start. He restrained himself, all in due respect for his only grandmother. And today isn't so different.
He raised his head, looked at his grandmother, indignant, abstained, and deplored all at once. He was met by his grandmother's own eyes, ludicrous, chastising and ireful.
As both grandmother and grandson contested themselves in a heated stare down, the audiences watched them with their varying cases of nervous writhing as the tension rises in a dangerous degree. Hino and the rest of the concour participants regarded them anxiously, especially the lilac-haired flutist. They remained silent, tense yet anticipating.
"Grandmother, please let me justify myself," at last, Azuma voiced after moments of deliberation, sounding somewhere between desperation and persistence. Yet the older Yunoki had proven impenetrable as she answers him sharply.
"Enough! Not a word from you any longer, young man!"
"But, Grandmother–"
"Silence!"
And Azuma went silent for the second time since their confrontation and by the tone of the elder Yunoki's voice, a retort is beyond question.
"Azuma, I am extremely disappointed at you. You, of all people, had deliberately gone in opposition to the norms of this family. Your duty is to remain subdued and to sustain yourself from transcending your older brothers. You gave me your word. Yet, you did this! Such dismalness!" the older woman flicked her hand in emphasis of what she deemed as absurdity.
The lilac-haired flute player kept on fisting his hands, all the while furtively shaking. And at last, in what seems like an inevitable defeat, he lowered his gaze, turning his attention to the marbled floor on which countless of feet had stepped on that particular night. Marred and trampled once again.
Deeming she had won the argument, the elder Yunoki made a move to slightly raise her chin in what seems to render decorous smugness. And even in the midst of the public's notice, she carried on with her reproach, unconstrained.
"Did you really suppose that the family will give you the liberty to do anything you wished to? What makes you think you have a choice?"
Six indignant eyes were directed at her, their resolve fuelled with the wrongness of everything.
"Azuma, your role is to support your older brothers; to fend of everything that may hinder their achievement in any way," she narrows her eyes before continuing. "And that includes you, my grandson. You are to hold yourself off when you reckoned yourself a potential threat."
And with those words, Yunoki Azuma broke down again.
~.~
He remained unmoving, bonded and furiously bleeding.
~.~
To say he was surprised was an understatement. And the gasp he heard from the crowd told him he wasn't alone with the sentiment. Apparently, none among them ever thought that there would come a day that this person would stand up with such confidence before a formidable character. Let alone say such equally fearful words against her.
"Pardon my insolence, Madame, but I fear I cannot concur to your scheme."
Azuma watched her, wide-eyed, "Fuyuumi-chan."
"I believe I didn't ask for your opinion, young lady Fuyuumi," Grandmother Yunoki said with a raised brow.
"Indeed, Madame. But I cannot let you go on with your tirade any longer and hurt Yunoki-senpai even more with your unwarranted judgment."
The Mistress turned at her, entirely offended. "Such impudence!"
"Undeniably, but not as much disrespect you have shown to your very own grandson with your selfish words. Yunoki-senpai is not your property. And he is not your puppet for you to use and manipulate."
Azuma stared at her, completely speechless, and regarded her with new-found respect. Gone were the shyness; gone were her inhibitions. What's left in her eyes is the conviction she had of him and of his very own commitment to one self.
~.~
Unlocking the latch, the chains fell from his eyes, leaving him wide-eyed by the new light brought by the shining teal-colored key.
~.~
Grandmother Yunoki eyed her with furious eyes.
"What a rude thing to say. And such an impertinent child!" She gave her another once-over then turned to look at Azuma in displeasure. "Now I know where Azuma got such disturbing behaviour."
The flute player started; affronting him, he could take. But to speak ill of his acquaintances is another story. "Grandmother! That's –"
"I think that's going too far, Madame," a voice said as the owner moved beside the shorter Fuyuumi.
His attempt to retaliate was cut short as Tsuchiura steps in to finish it for him. He was livid, almost to the point of bodily harm. And the piano player didn't know how grateful he is with the interference. Eyeing him, he was met by the tall man's knowing gaze and did a double-take.
Personally, he thought the pianist was the most indifferent among his fellow concour participants, considering they barely socialize apart from the concours itself. And so it was to his great surprise when the tall player stood in for him, catching his words just as his voice began to quiver in pure rage, one that he thought he hid so perfectly.
I can hear you just as clear. Try to calm down, Senpai, is what the piano player says in his eyes, and with that, Azuma did what he was silently told. He soothed himself and in no time was thinking clearly again.
Thank you, his eyes answered, unsaid but definitely haven't gone unheard.
~.~
The sound of the rubbing links of the chain as it fell from his ears was so distinct he barely distinguished the sound of both the forest green-colored key and the lock that fell with it.
~.~
Seeing Shimizu stare at the Mistress of the Yunoki household with such somnolent look after he joined Tsuchiura's and Fuyuumi's little crowd made Azuma mentally writhe in concern. And with the elder woman looking at the blonde, apparently unsure how to react, he thought it would have been an amusing scene if it weren't for the graveness of the situation.
"What is it, young man? You have something to speak with me?"
The freshman looked on, staring at her seriously with heavy-lidded eyes, and after several moments of silence, began to speak.
"Yunoki-senpai is . . . Yunoki-senpai. He is . . . owned . . . but . . . by himself . . . alone."
The silence that came after the young cellist's statement was awkward. However, Azuma was unminding for his thoughts were filled with the weight of those simple words the freshman had spoken. His words were succinct, coming in pauses and barely audible. Yet they were as meaningful and as jarring as the words that had been said so far.
And he knew, precisely, he could do as much himself; perhaps more.
~.~
The chains left a vile aftertaste but it was least of his concerns for now he had found his will to voice his thoughts; a strength brought by whispers of a golden-colored key.
~.~
"Seems like the event turned out for the worst. Don't you think so, Senpai?" a familiar voice beside him said his voice loud enough for just the two of them to hear.
The flute player tilted his head in the direction of the male violinist. "Indeed. But I didn't expect it to end up pretty either." Both male regarded the heated exchange between the Yunoki Mistress and the other concour participants. "What a fiasco."
There was a momentary silence before Tsukimori spoke once more. "Then again, I honestly think I am not much opposed to what's happening now. Not because I take delight in a fight but because this battle is worth fighting for." The blue-haired sophomore looked at him, Azuma's stunned expression gone heedless. "I know the scent of a well-earned victory and the way Yunoki-senpai's grandmother represses Senpai's expertise just stinks."
With the statement expressed, the violinist joined his little group of defenders, stoical yet secretly braced. They had been both victors from the recently concluded concours and he recognizes both the satisfaction of accomplishment and the demands that the triumph had brought. Thus, he welcomed the subtle empathy; a conqueror's camaraderie.
~.~
The whiff of near-freedom thrilled him and he savoured every last bit of its redolent – chains, lock and the blue-colored key combined.
~.~
"So it's all of you then; the people who corrupted my grandson's mind." It was more of a statement than a question and the one to answer her was Azuma's fellow classmate and first trumpeter friend.
"That is not the case, Yunoki-obaa-sama."
"Wait, Hihara –"
He was halted by the trumpet player with a raised hand and a calm smile. Trust me. I'll protect you.
"Hihara-kun, you're one of Azuma's few friends. Among the others I had more faith in you in keeping Azuma in check. It seems like I've entrusted my grandson unto the wrong hands."
"I apologize, Obaa-sama, if it turned out quite a disappointment to you. But if that is the case, then, I wouldn't want it any other way." The trumpeter's voice was the very essence of calm. Then, he continued.
"This may not hold any credit to you, Yunoki-obaa-sama, but Yunoki – no – Azuma and I had been friends since we both started at Seisou. I am aware that I have little knowledge about your family and maybe perhaps about Azuma, himself," he gave his flute player friend a quick glance. "But I am willing to bet my life that it is when he plays his flute that he felt accomplishment the most. He might have been trying so hard to hide his emotions under that smiling mask but I know better. Because I've been watching him ever since. And that's because he's my dearest friend," he paused as he settled his hand at the back of his tall friend for silent support.
"Hihara."
The mere pat by his lime-haired friend was warm. The kind that balms his very being, offering him inner solace; the warmth of genial camaraderie and genuine loyalty. An irrevocable bond. And the warmth escalates throughout his entirety as much as his resolve, slowly surmounting to its peak.
~.~
He felt it; the warmth that is the lime-colored key gently settled on both of his hands. And the numbness caused by the chains gradually dissipates together with the agony.
~.~
"Are you implying that I know little about what's best for my grandson?" It was a challenge; a challenge to prove her wrong.
"We aren't implying anything, Madame. We are merely supporting Yunoki-senpai with what he believe is valuable and important to him."
It was Hino; the ever fiery Hino, on her toes, confident. Just like that day she asked her to pose as his fiancée, that day they first confronted his stern grandmother. She was the first one to speak then, and despite being the last one now, the fervor she had then with her convictions was just as blazing as what she had at the moment.
"I know you care deeply for your grandsons, Obaa-sama, and that everything you did for them were as what you deemed beneficial for them. We, at the concours, care as much as you do for Yunoki-senpai and we know that there's more to him than a mere shadow to his elder brothers. We saw his excellence as well as his faults," she gave Azuma a knowing glance before continuing, "and above all that, we saw that he's only human; a human who gets angry, who feels pain, who gets tired, who knows fear; yet also one who yearns, who cherishes, who stands up in every fall and most of all, who loves."
Moving to stand beside him, the red-haired violinist caught his hand in hers, gripping it as if it was a lifeline that might slip from her hands if she weren't seizing it tight enough. And when he returned the pressure with his own, his heart hammering inside his chest with the overwhelming emotions he's having, he saw the corner of her lip raise a bit in relief.
Hino Kahoko.
She was something he entirely overlooked, thinking that her existence was just as feeble as his petty thoughts of her. Yet he finally realized the crucial role she played in all these when she unlocked his heart he secured so much with her key of pure compassion, understanding and acceptance.
~.~
He held the red-colored key close to his heart, where it truly belonged.
~.~
He had been the spectator all throughout the encounter and with the support they've shown him, he finally made his resolve. Stepping in front of the little crowd his fellow concour participants made, he stood – with grace only known to the Yunokis – and looked at his grandmother with determined eyes.
"Grandmother, please hear me out."
With the strength of character he is showing, his grandmother chose to concede, partly anxious and partly curious.
"It is indeed of my great interest to continue with my music and if you would excuse my insolence, I would like you, Grandmother, to be acquainted with the fact that I resolved with this pronouncement after a significant period of deliberation."
Whispered murmurs echoed in the entirety of the setting. But before anyone could pose anything inappropriate out of the words he had said, he continued.
"I did not make this decision to dishonor the Yunoki name or to deliberately go against your will, Grandmother. It is merely to satisfy my own self-indulgence, for once. All my life I have devoted myself to the norms of the family name and in doing so I had failed to build myself my very own image; an image that's unique yet still worthy of the Yunoki pride. My stay at Seisou had helped me realize this and of my true desire for music, and the experiences I had with my friends at Seisou had helped me found my true self. Having recognized that certain point, I thought that unless I became honest with myself, I cannot support you, my elder brothers, and perhaps the entire Yunoki clan fully and wholeheartedly. I believe that a person's capacity to support lies on his willingness to do so."
He made a pause, just long enough to look over longingly to his family, and to catch a glimpse of his friends from behind him. Friends. Yes, that's what they are to him; one that will remain and are irreplaceable.
"Also, I think it's about time I give myself a chance; a chance to prove myself worthy of the Yunoki name in my own strength and in my own ways. If you would allow me, Grandmother, I would submit myself under your scrutiny and if you deemed my actions inappropriate and dishonorable, I would willingly strip myself of the Yunoki name and everything that comes with it."
~.~
Up to the blinding light he flew, six colored keys in his hands, leaving behind him the chains that used to bind his life in darkness. And with the keys that had brought him immeasurable strength he beat his wings, strongly and unwaveringly, as he aims to that freedom just above his head.
~END~
A/N: About the format thingy at the beginning, I decided to follow the format for our MP event. I hope you don't mind. A short review will do. Thanks for reading.=)