Disclaimer: Don't own it, just obsessed with it.
She's an interesting girl. That's an obvious fact. She's a musician, of course, seeing as she attends a music school. A pianist, he understands. And pure. And beautiful. He wants to spend a little more time listening to her talk, watching the way her hands move so fluidly when she is asking detailed questions about him and his craft. He can only imagine how those hands move delicately across a keyboard, and it makes him shiver in anticipation, like a child looking forward to fireworks.
This isn't the first time Kuroki has felt this way. He's a guy, after all, and girls are everywhere. As constant a companion as his oboe has been, it never kept his eye from wandering, no matter how rarely.
There had been girls in middle school, high school, college. In middle school they were generally more interested in his appearance (and how he appeared with them) so the one or two he dated did not last for very long.
In high school there had been one, a flute playing, solemn listener of a girl who he felt comfortable immersing himself with in the winding roads of Haydn and Dvorák. They spoke little, but understood each other completely, which is why at graduation they were able to smile at each other and go their separate ways without so much as an adolescent howl of abandonment. They both had goals. It dawned on Kuroki later that they had not so much a torrid teenage romance as they had a relaxed, deep friendship. In fact, they still exchange emails.
After that, the oboe took over again, and he understands now that it did not so much loose control as it quietly took a back seat until he was ready to devote himself to it again. He was grateful for the respite and now he played, played, and played. He loved playing. It was his life.
All of this he could explain to Megumi-chan without being embarrassed. And she smiled at him. With soft, pink lips and eyes that shined in the way a true musician's eyes would. She understands the hunger, the need to be better. Since she is apparently a good friend of Chiaki's, then she must obviously desire the same thing. He hopes he remembers next time to ask if he can listen to her play and what competitions she's entered and possibly won. He wants to know as much as possible about her. He's thinking a lot about that, lately.
But when he plays, he's only thinking of those lips, as pink as the Mozart he's playing. And he's not even shocked with how glorious it is. Ah, this must be love.
He hopes she's listening.
A/N: My first Nodame Cantabile drabble. Hmm. I really like Kuroki, wish we could see more of him, anyway.