Because, unbeknownst to Akaya, four months is not enough time to be able to play the bassoon perfectly well. Don't worry, Aka-chan. You're on your way. (Not that I'm any better, hehe.)
Yes, the bassoon is an endangered instrument. People are always calling it the oboe (and it is so not an oboe), and there's like, a severe lack of respect for it. Be musically aware, everyone! The bassoon's not that bad, and Vivaldi's Bassoon Concerto in A Minor is really something worth listening to.
Disclaimer: There are a ton of references in here to stuff on the bassoonbrothers(dot)com website. Visit it! And I don't own it.
(I don't know what possessed me to write this, but then, that's the case with most of my stories, isn't it? Enjoy it anyway?)
Akaya marched into practice looking unusually proud of himself, and the regulars braced themselves. Yukimura smiled at him. "You look delighted, Akaya. Did something happen?"
"I have a concert," he explained giddily. "They're letting me travel abroad and everything!"
Sanada seemed surprised—pleasantly, for once. "Are you performing?"
Akaya nodded eagerly. "I'm going to be one of ten students performing from abroad," he rambled, "and I'm going to be the best because I'm the only one who can play the bassoon and I'm cool like that and I'm going to play the most amazing piece ever and—"
"You play the bassoon?" Marui asked, quirking an eyebrow. "What's that?"
Akaya explained, very professionally, "It's a wooden stick that's connected to another stick with a metal twisty straw coming out of it."
Marui turned to Yukimura for confirmation while Niou began to laugh uncontrollably. "It's a double reed bass instrument," Yukimura clarified. "It's a very rare instrument; few people play it anymore. How long have you been playing it, Akaya?"
"Since four months ago," Akaya said. "I got duped into band class because I really didn't want to take the Music Appreciation class because the teacher's a bi—"
"No cursing," Yukimura chided gently.
"—tch. And the band teacher said if I joined then I didn't need to take the class so I did, 'cept the only reason he wanted me to join was 'cause the band needed a bassoonist and nobody plays the bassoon because it's huge and heavy and it takes like an hour to put together."
"And only our darling Akaya was stupid enough to get roped into it," Niou finished.
"Yeah, I—hey! No! I am not stupid! And for your information, the bassoon is a really classy instrument that only classy people play because it's classy."
"It's called the 'belching bedpost'," Niou commented. "And when someone played it for some king, the king was like, "Thank God it doesn't smell the way it sounds," or something."
Yagyuu frowned at him. "Really, Niou-kun. How is it that you know something as trivial as that, but supposedly was unable to find a diagram of the nervous system?"
"Kasuko-sensei's assignments aren't worth doing."
"I happen to find the bassoon a wonderfully unique instrument," Yukimura said airily, and his word was law.
"It's an endangered instrument," Akaya said, matter-of-factly. "It's number one on the endangered instruments list and it might go extinct soon so I'm doing the world a favor by performing. So ha."
"I think it's wonderful we have a musician in our midst," Yukimura praised, casting Akaya a fond look. Akaya beamed.
"Hey, I play the piano," Marui protested. "And you play the flute. And Niou plays the guitar, or something."
"I play the guitar, the flute, the piano, the trumpet, the clarinet, the drums, and the saxophone," Niou said smugly.
Marui seemed dumbfounded. "Why would you bother learning all that? You don't seem like the musical type."
Niou shrugged. "It's good for waking up my neighbors in the middle of the night. And I can get away with it, because if they ask, all I have to do is say I'm honing my musical skills and they shut up."
Akaya's eyes widened. "That's a good idea!"
"No," Sanada said firmly. "No, it's not. Niou, stop planting ideas into Akaya's head. He's devious enough as it is."
Yukimura protested, "Akaya is not at all devious! He's an angel. Aren't you, Akaya?" Akaya glowed so brightly, Sanada thought he might have grown a halo.
Which was replaced by devil horns a moment later, but we won't go into that.
"In any case, it's very interesting that you'll be traveling abroad for simply a concert performance," Yanagi commented. "Where to, might I ask?"
"America," Akaya said proudly. "Julie-sharp."
There was a moment of confused silence, and finally Jackal said, "I think he means Juilliard."
"Oh," the regulars chorused, and Niou began laughing again.
"When is this performance?" Yagyuu asked, sounding intrigued. "My mother has a business trip there in the upcoming winter break; perhaps I'll be able to attend."
"Sure you can," Akaya chirped, and produced seven tickets. "For everyone! It's during winter break, so you can all see me perform and be awesome. With my awesome bassoon and awesome music skills." This was directed at Niou, along with a glare, all copyrighted and patented.
"What'll you be playing?" Marui asked. "Don't bass instruments not have solos or something?"
"No," Akaya said, frowning. "I'm going to be playing something that's timely and classic and everyone knows about."
"One of Vivaldi's concertos, perhaps?" Yukimura inquired. "He wrote thirty-seven concertos for the bassoon, I believe. My personal favorite was his Bassoon Concerto in A Minor, RV498, the first movement."
Niou whistled. "Man, Mura-buchou's like our own walking encyclopedia."
Akaya looked confused. "No, I'm not playing Vivaldi. What I'm playing is way more famous than any of Vivaldi's stuff."
"We'll look forward to listening to it," Yagyuu promised.
The curtains were pulled aside, and the spotlight was centered on a lone boy standing in the center of the stage. Akaya smiled brightly at the audience, his eyes glowing. There was polite applause from the audience, and vigorous applause from the RikkaiDai tennis team (excluding Niou, who seemed to be extremely amused by the odd wooden contraption strapped around Akaya's shoulder).
A group of little children followed Akaya onstage, dressed in white and smiling at the audience. Were they singing along? Was it an opera work that Akaya would be playing? He'd been very mysterious about the piece he was going to be playing, calling it a timely classic, modern as well as ancient, and an excellent collaboration between the manmade instrument and the human voice. (Not exactly in those words.)
Akaya took a deep breath and put his mouth to the reed.
The regulars leaned forward in anticipation. A great classical work? Something from the Baroque period? Romantic period? Something elegant, something classy!
The children took a deep breath.
The regulars were leaned so far forward that they were about to fall off the seats.
"Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb! Mary had a little lamb, her fleece was white as snow."
And in the background, Akaya 'purp'ed away, bleating out noises somewhat akin to the notes the children were singing.
Somewhat.
Maybe.
The regulars instantly collapsed.
Echizen Ryoma flipped to a new page in his American magazine, and almost fell over in shock upon seeing what it said.
Chaos at Juilliard Concert!
At a concert in Juilliard, held February fourth, in 2010, seven Japanese students, who had come to the concert to watch their fellow tennis player perform, fell over simultaneously! Upon Akaya Kirihara (Kirihara Akaya)'s playing—Mary Had a Little Lamb, accompanied by a group of third-grade students—all seven students fell out of their seats at once, and toppled onto the floor, causing quite the scene of disarray. The exact cause is unknown, but it should be noted that one of the students, a boy with silvery hair and a ponytail, had begun laughing hysterically without pause, and was in apparent need of medical attention, claiming he was unable to breathe from laughing too hard.
Akaya Kirihara (Kirihara Akaya) was noticeably offended by this comment.
Along with the article came a photo taken at the concert. It was blurry, but Ryoma could faintly make out the image of Yukimura smiling his pleasantly surprised smile, Sanada, Yanagi, Jackal, Marui, and Yagyuu all on the floor, seemingly unconscious, and Niou, leaning against a chair for support and doubled over in laughter.
Ryoma decided it was a good thing that the RikkaiDai students weren't all that fluent in English, and promptly burned the magazine.