This is a story that has been in my mind since before Silent Wish. I've never actually felt the need to write it down before but now, as silent wish is nearly done, a few more moments of revision should be enough, I want to continue on with this story, which has finally made its way onto the screen. The introduction is short and...well, please just read. If I get enough reviews I'll continue. If not, I'll either delete it or what not. I present to you: Sightless Symphony
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Stanza One: Violin et Arc
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His long graceful fingers held the bow seemingly effortlessly as the thin piece of wood slid across the lightly vibrating strings, creating a solemn tune of wanting and sadness. The violin, of which his chin rested on, easily produced the tune the young musician wanted. A soft smile was placed on his thin, lightly tanned face and he held his instrument with care. His eyes were shut, feeling the notes with his ears and memory and he had an air of calmness and peace, even more so when he played the violin as he did so now. His hair was spiky and looked as if he had just gotten out of bed, his bangs framing his face and hair sticking up in every which way. He was short, roughly 5'4, and looked like a child though he had to have been at least sixteen years of age. The young musician was dressed in a dark suit and he stood out as the bright spotlight shined on him, illuminating him in the small circle the light gave. The music of that he played, came easily to him, from many long hours of practice since he was a small child, and the tunes and melodies he produced were rapturing and caught your attention easily.
The audience themselves were caught up in the silent story his music spun. They watched his arm move the bow across the gleaming violin, the wielder stood with a serene smile as if he was smiling at them all though he was not looking at them even for a moment. Between the beauty of the boy and the music, one could not help but be caught in the storm of musical notes. Many women held tissues or handkerchiefs to their eyes and mouths, stiffing sobs and wiping away crystal tears. It seemed impossible that so many people could be transfixed by one being, but they were.
Of him and his music.
Finally, after what only seemed to be a short moment of peace and solitude, he strung his last sorrowful tune, drawing out the note and it trailed pitifully. Then, it was over. He lowered his arm, chin coming off his violin and arms lowering just slightly to cradle the delicate instrument. He stood in silence for a few moments before the large audience cheered for him and the marvel he had cradled in his arms. He finally smiled at them, and bowed at the waist before turning around and walking swiftly of stage, his tail coats flapping slightly. The cheers of the audience diminished as he moved behind the thick velvet curtain and sighed before leaning against the wall of the old theater, gently placing his instrument beside him. He could still hear the cheers of the audience but they soon vanished as Meismier walked onto the stage and announced the next musician to take the stage. His booming voice filled every crevice as he introduced Mimi, a promising flutist, next.
"Well done, Taichi-san,"
Taichi turned to where the voice was coming from and smiled, "Ah, Koushiro, thank you. You're clarinet solo was absolutely brilliant also." He smiled warmly at the shorter fifteen year old with short, spiky, ruby hair. He too wore a suit, green in color, and carried his clarinet case in his left hand and sheet music in his right.
"Thank you, Taichi," He smiled at his long term friend. "But you are far better then I could hope to be. Your music is simply...magical." His violet eyes sparkled at the slightest thought of Taichi's music and the brunette blushed faintly at the praise.
"I assure you," He said, defending his modesty, "It is not as marvelous as your clarinet. Such strong beats and wonderful rhythm."
Koushiro smiled brighter and nodded accepting the praise. "Thank you."
As they conversed, soft, sweet music trilled lightly, coming from behind the thick red curtains. Koushiro turned slightly toward the music, trying the remain inconspicuous. But Taichi heard him shuffle his feet and he smiled, "She is a promising flutist, isn't she?"
"Absolutely," He agreed, nodding. "Miss Mimi will make the orchestra proud."
They stood there for a few more minuets in silence, listening to the chirp of the young lady's flute. After a pause there was a short but enthusiastic applause and Mimi came gliding back, white gown trailing after her. "Oh," She uttered, startled that she had been heard by more then the crowd. But she smiled as she recognized the two males. "Taichi, Koushiro, " She greeted, hugging each warmly, "How was I?" She was eager to impress and looked at them each with large honey eyes, wanting a sincere answer.
"Marvelous," Koushiro promptly answered, blushing when she smiled warmly at him.
Taichi agreed, "You are indeed turning out to be a wonderful flutist, " He said, "And you will make us proud yet."
Mimi blushed and grinned at them both, "Thank you, I really do mean that. But now I must go and wash up," She curtsied and began to bounce off, her light, honey caramel colored hair bounding behind her. "Oh," She suddenly turned, still sprinting, "Wonderful performance you guys!" She turned back and left, going down the short staircase to their small dressing rooms.
"She sure is something," Taichi laughed, kneeling to pick up his beloved instrument, "Isn't she?"
"Yes," Koushiro nodded, "But she will not let us down."
Nodding, the brunette stood, once again cradling his object, "Yes, but I must go now. It's been fun talking to you, Kou, but I have to leave soon. Paris is not the safest place at night."
"Are you sure you don't want any help?" His friend offered again, "I mean you can't see so..." He trailed off, not wanting to insult him further.
"I am fine," He laughed, "I have walked these streets for many years, I know them as well as I know my violin. I'll see you tomorrow, Koushiro." He inclined his head toward him and left, disappearing down the staircase that was lightly illuminated by the glow of a candle, and vanished behind a closed door.
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Soft, powdery snow fell from the grey French sky and Taichi blew hot air into his cupped hands. He gripped the handle of his violin case tightly, trying to ignore the numbness in his hand. He walked on, carefully moving forward and listening intently to even the slightest sound that was uttered. Though he knew Paris as well as any other person born here, he had to be extremely careful as he could see nothing but the blackness of his world. His misty grey eyes stared a head without seeing things and instead saw with his ears and instincts. As he moved along, he paused and stared into the sky, his grip on his violin relaxing slightly. Though he couldn't see it, he felt the cool drops of the fluffy snow against his skin and he smiled despite himself. How wonderful, He thought, the world must be to have such amazing pleasures.
He once again warmed his hands before moving on, walking through the gathering snow. Around him, the candle lights in windows shone faintly and he moved on feeling calm, despite where he was headed. He walked toward the large clock tower, Lune Majestueuse, shone brightly with some of the few electrical lights Paris had. The old tower rose into the sky and as he made for it, it struck eleven times, chimes echoing across the city. Taichi looked toward the sound and sighed. He hugged his case tightly to his chest and began to run toward his destination. His home.
He panted lightly as he fled down the empty street. "I have to get home," He told himself, "I have to make it through the night." Though he told himself this, he knew it had already happened. No one bothered to check how the clock tower still ran and Taichi didn't tell him. His expert fingers knew how to wind the clocks perfectly and by doing so, he acquired a home. As he thought about his home he stopped at the corner to listen for buggies, now just wanting to get there as quickly as he could without being caught by the police watch. He took a few seconds to catch his breath before moving on but not before checking his violin to see that the jostling has not damaged the delicate piece of wood and string.
He passed under a street lamp and stopped suddenly. Later, he would tell himself that it was instinct, but at the moment he was transfixed like others were when they heard his violin. The sound was completely familiar to his trained ears and it was soft and lulling, like a lullaby a mother would sing to her child.
It was music.
He turned a blind gaze toward where the sound was coming and slowly walked up the stairs that he had stopped in front of. He stood there listening to the music that encased him and breathed in deeply as if he could catch it inside him. He hesitantly put a hand to the door knocker and paused. He didn't want to stop the music that was so intently playing and instead he walked into the Bibliothèque des ailes. He didn't knock.
He clutched his violin case to his chest and slowly made his way toward the music that was still playing. "I have to see," He said to himself, "Who is playing that so beautifully?" His whisper was barely audible, even to his ears, and swallowed before stopping in front of large double doors. Bookshelves filled with texts of all sizes and strange gizmos crazy inventors constructed piled the shelves to a slightly worrisome level but Taichi took no heed to these and instead placed a pale hand on the smooth door and pushed the already a jarred door open. It opened silently and he slipped into the large, wooden floored, music room of the library.
He sensed someone playing the keys of a piano gently, making the rhythm sound slow and steady. Someone was making this beautiful music and Taichi wanted to know who. He inched closer and reached out to grasp the sleeve of who ever was sitting at the piano's bench but stopped suddenly when the music trailed off. The key was held in and it slowly stopped. Taichi was aware that silence had once again wound its way around him. He swallowed and clenched his hand together and then...he felt someone's gaze penetrate his very being.
"What are you doing here?" A cool voice demanded.
"I heard you playing," He said evenly. "And it sounded..."
The unidentified person waited, crossing his arms. He was blonde haired with icy sapphire eyes. His hair curled around the base of his neck and gently touched the collar of his richly made coat. The young man was tall and slender, holding an air of poise and grace like many musicians carried. Although Taichi couldn't see him, he felt his beauty and grace, his poise and air of being obeyed, and his long fingers, much like his, that played an instrument.
"..beautiful." He finished, breathless as he stood in the presence of such a person.
He shifted on his seat and moved his graceful, long legs so he was facing the brunette, looking him over. "Thank you," He finally said, and Taichi detected a smile on his lips, "But I'm not use to giving private concerts."
"I'm sorry!" The other blurted out, "But I was just walking home and I heard music- your music- and it... it kind of just drew me in. C'était une telle belle musique." He took a breath and swallowed again, "I wanted to see...to see who was making such a wonderful melody." He was rambling, and he knew it. He blushed lightly and he bit his lip to stop.
The blond laughed and lifted himself from his throne easily. "Do not fret, I'm not angry. I don't receive such beautiful words about my music to my face. It's rather refreshing. "He smiled at him before his gaze traveled to the case he held so dearly. "Ah," His smile widened considerably, "You are a musician." He stated it simply and his companion nodded silently. "Ah...violin?"
"Yes," Taichi said eagerly, finally snapping out of his trance, "I love the violin. It sounds beautiful and sorrowful at the same time yet it brings such a feeling of happiness to me when I play."
The blond smiled knowingly and nodded. "I use to play violin." At Taichi's shocked expression he continued," But my arm was damaged in an accident and I had to play an instrument that put less stress on my arm. So I played piano."
"Wow," He said softly, "I could never give up playing the violin, even if it cost me my arm. "
The older male laughed and Taichi blushed. "Sh-shut up! I love playing the violin so... so if you just want to make fun of me..!"
"No, no," The other said, putting his hands up defensively, "You misunderstood me. I think it's great you're so passionate about it."
His blush deepened and he turned slightly. "W... well, sorry to intrude but I guess I'll head home now." He bowed quickly and turned to leave.
"Wait," The man ordered, reaching out to grab Taichi by the back of his winter coat. The brunette paused and stood there with his pale hand clutching his coat. He didn't say anything as he felt that the other man would speak soon enough.
"Play with me."
"What?" Was the instant reply Taichi gave. Play with him? Why?
"Play with me," He repeated. "I want to hear you play."
Taichi turned to face him, unaware that he was still clutching his down feathered coat. "But... I... I have to get home."
"I'll walk you," He said, staring at him intensely.
They stood like that before Taichi finally gave a short, curt nod.
Smiling slightly, the stranger let go of his coat and turned back to his piano, "I assume you know Moonlight Sonata?" He was riffling through his papers that were scrawled on with the lines and notes that made up sheet music for the piano. Taichi sat his violin case down on the polished wood floor and took out his violin. Once he felt the cool, smooth wood in his hand, he smiled and positioned himself beside the piano. The tunes and beat for the piano and violin were different from one another for this certain song, but the piano player easily adjusted to having another musician share the floor.
"Ready?" He asked, all musician now. His voice sounded far off to Taichi, who was already immersed in the music that had yet to be played.
"Of course." Was the well worn response.
At the same time, they began. The stranger's fingers danced along the gleaming white and black keys of the piano, quickly filling the room with the haunting melody of Moonlight Sonata. His fingers easily found the keys and he pressed them effortlessly, already knowing the next move. His left hand struck up the chords and his right played the actual notes of the song. His eyes were closed, letting the music surround him, keeping an ear open for his companion's instrument. As soon as the pianist finished the intro, Taichi blended in perfectly with his violin. His arm fiddled his bow along the sensitive strings of the violin, creating a beautiful tune that didn't overshadow nor was under shadowed by the piano music. They played flawlessly and soon, Taichi found his own eyes fluttering shut, his hand automatically making the music. He only opened his eyes near the end and was slightly startled, but pleased, to see the blond haired man staring at him too. And then, at the last note, they trailed the notes as long as they dared, ending like they very much started, at the exact same time.
They stood in that familiar silence before he took his fingers from the now silent keys and Taichi took his chin from the violin.
"That was beautiful," The stranger said softly, "You really are a wonderful musician."
"Well...so are you," Taichi said, gripping his elbow with his hand, holding his violin and bow in the other. "I've never played so… intensely before. It was...amazing."
Laughing softly, the stranger closed the piano up after playing a short tune on the keys. "Yes, I have never played in a duet myself. But playing with someone such as yourself..." He trailed off, turning his gaze to the short male." Well, I'm sure you understand."
Taichi nodded, and began to carefully place the violin back in its rightful place. He stowed it away and stood once again. "Thank you for taking the time to play with me." He smiled at him, "It was a wonderful experience."
He nodded, taking the candelabra from atop the piano and turned to look at him. "It was for me also," He said, "I hope to see you again." He said this softly while gazing into Taichi's face. Taichi fidgeted slightly and agreed and turned to go but was stopped by the stranger's sudden speech. "You're blind," It was not a question but a statement, like much of what he said. He stepped up to him and gently cupped his face. Taichi felt the blush creep to his cheeks as he felt the smooth skin of his one time duet partner brush the skin of his cheek.
"Yes," He stated simply. "So?"
"So nothing," the blond replied, smiling at how defensive he was being, "That just makes you even more amazing."
Blushing more, Taichi shifted so his face was no longer cupped by those cold, yet loving hands. "W-well… y-you, uh… promised to walk me home, remember?" He stuttered, slightly surprised at how forward he was being.
"I suppose I did," The blonde smiled.
"Well then, let's go." He said simply, voice trailing off softly as he clutched his violin case to his chest.
"Very well," He laughed slightly, "Lead the way."
Taichi did just that and opened the door and started to walk down the hallway, though carefully as he could not see the length of the hallway or the door to the library approaching. "Mignon," He mumbled, smiling slightly, before walking swiftly up to the brunette. "Let me have your arm," He commanded lightly, holding out his hand to the brunette who stopped, hand about to push the door open.
"I can get there myself," He mumbled, though he did take the blonde's offered hand. "I'm not helpless."
"Of course not," He agreed, "But it is pleasant to have company on a snowy day."
Taichi agreed and unknowingly pressed against the blonde as they walked down the cobbled streets of Paris. The older male responded by wrapping his arm around the brunette's shoulder. "You have not told me your name." He stated simply as they walked toward he clock tower, the snow still surrounding them in he never ending fall of pure flakes.
"Taichi. Taichi Symphonie."
"And I am Yamato Mélodie." He said casually.
Taichi smiled lightly. He knew he should be more cautious around people he didn't know but Yamato had something about him that just seemed to make him trust the pianist. Taichi was guiding them down lit streets that led strait to the clock tower, which began to strike with twelve chimes. He looked up momentarily to where he knew the clock tower would be. "It's midnight." He said, holding out his hand to catch some falling snowflakes.
"The hour of Pre-Dead Days have approached," Yamato said casually. Taichi nodded in agreement. The Dead Days were the last few days after Christmas. Those six days made up the Dead Days, a period where the unspoken law of stillness and calm atmosphere were supposed to be obeyed. But these days were also the most dangerous. "The Egyptians said that these days are the darkest and most magical. But then again, who knows? They are long dead along with their secrets."
"The Dead Days," Taichi thought aloud, "Isn't that suppose to be when the spirits of the underground catacombs walk the earth?" He shivered at the thought and pushed against Yamato a little more, as if trying to ward of the spirits.
Smiling at his childishness, he stated, "That's just superstition."
"Is not," He glared up at him, knowing he wore a smirk on his lips, "The Dead Days is when a musician is at his best. Those days are...magical." He finished, his gaze returning to the ground.
Rolling his eyes, the sapphire eyed male squeezed his shoulder, "Just keep your superstitions to yourself, Paris is not a city to casually sprout the secret language of magic. They say if you do, a hag will visit you in the night and sit on your chest until you forfeit your soul." He laughed at the expression on the blind violinist's face, "But they are only stories,"
"So you say," He retorted, pulling his coat tighter around himself.
They walked in silence for a few last moments before Yamato brought him to a halt in front of the majestic clock tower. "I kept my end of the bargain." He said, letting go of Taichi's shoulder. "I have walked you home," Taichi nodded and shifted his case to the other hand.
"Yes, thank you." He said, bowing slightly to him. He turned to leave and Yamato stood there, gazing at him as he reached for the worn silver chain around his neck. He fumbled with the key that hung there slightly, his cold fingers unable to grip the key properly. He gave a sigh of frustration before blowing his warm breath into his hands, setting his violin down, his breath sending steam like clouds into the night air.
"Here," Yamato said, after watching the pitiful scene. He walked over to Taichi and took the key off the chain, ignoring his protesting, and unlocked the large oak door that led to a spiraling staircase that reached up to the top of the tower. "There," He said, handing him back his intricate key. The brunette took it, looking toward the ground.
"I would have gotten it myself," He said, softly irritated.
"Of course you would have," Yamato agreed, holding the door open for him. "But my way was quicker."
Taichi blushed slightly and bent down to pick up his violin case. "Thank you," He murmured, walking up the stairs and into the door way, hand on the worn door knob. "And thank you for playing with me." He smiled at the blond and made his way inside.
"Wait," Yamato commanded once again and like clockwork, Taichi stopped. Walking gracefully up the stairs, he leaned down and tilted Taichi''s head up to gaze into his sightless eyes. Taichi stiffened slightly and swallowed, the blush spreading across his cheeks. They stood in that position for a few sincere moments and then Yamato leaned his face towards him. "Un si beau visage," He muttered before stealing Taichi's lips in his own. The kiss was brief and Yamato soon parted from Taichi's. Catching the shocked expression on his face as a candle flame's light flickered; he smirked and instead gave him a traditional kiss, a peck on each cheek, which caused the younger male to flush even more.
"Au revoir, mon violinist." He whispered, letting go of Taichi's face and walking down the stairs, waving over his shoulder and before Taichi could come to his senses, the tall figure disappeared in the flurry of snow and secrets.
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Taichi sipped his hot tea as he sat on his windowsill and looked outside at the busy streets of morning Paris. The snow had stopped sometime during the night and now the sun was shining weakly through the clouded skies, bringing crowds of people out for shopping and socializing. He smiled as he pictured this and drew his scarf the more tightly around him. It was not so cold as for him to wear a coat but he was bundled in a long sleeved emerald sweater, the bottom of the sweater bagging at his thighs and the sleeves rolled up several times. His pants were also loose on him and the pant legs rolled up so his slippered feet could rest against the other edge of the window. He sighed peacefully and sipped his beverage again before setting it on the floor. He straitened himself up and instead of a fragile cup of tea, he cradled a delicate violin.
It was not the same violin he had played at the Meisieumde Theater, as that one still lay safe and secure in its case. This one was extremely worn and battered. It was obvious it had been handled many times with care and love. It was an older model, longer and slightly thinner, but its strings were still intact and the black paint on the wood glistened lightly as it's design framed the slight piece of work. This was the violin that Taichi had played for eleven years and the one he played most often. The name of the violin was written in silver ink on the side of the instrument, L'aimé. It was the very violin Taichi had found in the desolate corner of Joyeuses Rrécipitations Orphanage in the dusty attic, stowed away in the corner.
Taichi gazed at this violin with his longing blank eyes and lifted it up to its rightful place, on his shoulder, his chin resting on the hollow wood. He lifted the equally worm bow and began to play. The bow slid easily over the strings of L'aimé and the haunting tune of Greensleeves slipped out. A smile found itself on his face and he moved his arm to the rhythm of the Irish song. As he played, the people below the clock tower window found them selves smiling as they went along. They had no idea where the musical noted were coming from but the song lifted their spirits and they went along with a bounce in their step. Every morning at nine, the violin music could be heard but many thought it was just a spirit of Dead Days playing. How were they to know the music prodigy Taichi Symphonie lived in the old clock tower on Chie'mein Street?
He played on the windowsill for what seemed like hours but it was only a few minuets of beautiful tunes and rhythm. As the short song ended, Taichi finished with sweep of the bow and the last note died out. No matter how many times he played the violin, this special one he had been drawn to, would always produce the most beloved music. He smiled to himself and lowered the violin so it was resting in his lap. Although he couldn't see it, he felt his beloved instrument in his hand and he felt complete when he held it, like he belonged somewhere. Of course, he belonged in the Orchestra as the main violinist, but he had never felt complete there. He only felt such a state of belonging when he held the old violin… and when he had played with Yamato Mélodie the night before in the empty library.
At the sudden thought of the smug pianist, he blushed and brought his fingers to gently touch his lips where Yamato has pressed his own lips. Almost at once, he pulled his hand back and blushed, instead running his hand through his spiky brown locks. "Stupid pianist," He mumbled to himself. He set the violin down and pulled his knees to his chest, ignoring the sound of his beating heart and gazed sightlessly at the street below. The bells of the tower soon chimed, ringing ten times, before the tenth tune dropped and soon vanished. "I should get ready for work." The young musician noted to himself and he sighed, moving from his comfortable position. When he wasn't working with the orchestra he immersed himself with his other, less paying but equally enjoying job, clock making/fixing. But as music began to take over his life he found himself less and less at the clock shop of which he worked, Intemporel, and more and more at the theater. Today, he would be at the theater until two, and then, perhaps if fate allows, at the small shop on the corner of Soleil and Douleur working with the small gears of time tellers.
As he changed into a button up shirt, there was a sharp knock on the door. He quickly, if carelessly, buttoned his shirt, and made his way to the black painted door of his one roomed home. He opened it and it swung silently on its hinges, "Yes?"
"Taichi," Koushiro replied, "Are you almost ready? We start at thirty after ten."
He smiled as his friend talked, "Yes," He said brightly, "Just a moment." He grabbed his old coat and slipped into it, buckling the fabric up and walked over toward his one lone window. He picked up L'aimé and pulled the window shut, latching the two flaps together. He carefully picked up the antique violin and laid it carefully on its bed.
"Is that the violin you found in the orphanage?" Koushiro asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"The very same." He smiled, picking up the much newer violin that rest in its case. "Are we ready?" He asked, grabbing the large, silver key that would lock his little room from the outside world. At Koushiro's "Of course", he left, closing and locking the door behind him.
They went down the creaking spiral staircase and left through the heavy oak door. It slammed shut behind them and began their way toward the old theater that would always echo with music. It had started snowing again, a steady flow of wet flakes, and Koushiro led the way down the cobbled, narrow streets of Paris. Around them, the hustle and bustle of the busy city continued on, ignoring the two musicians that mingled in their crowd. The walk to the theater was uneventful and soon they arrived at the impressive theater that was their momentary home of music and shows. As they opened one of the grand glass doors, Koushiro remarked, "We have no concerts scheduled for the next week so we can relax somewhat." Taichi nodded, they both stomped their feet to be rid of the excess snow and they slipped out of their coats, hanging them up by the few others that were already there. "And I heard that last night, Meismier was very pleased with the show. We apparently earned quite a bit."
"That's fantastic," Taichi beamed, entering the concert hall.
On stage, Mimi was practicing her flute scales but stopped to wave merrily at the two for a second before going back to her work. The pianist, Sora, was playing a short song to practice her own scales. While an outstanding pianist herself, Taichi thought she could not compare to Yamato. He quickly shook the thought from his head and only one other musician was practicing. Hikari Feidelo, also a violinist, was just setting up her stand and sheet music. She was young, like much of the orchestra, with shoulder length chestnut brown hair and maroon eyes. As Taichi approached her she smiled brightly at the older musician. "Hello, Taichi," She smiled at him, her soft voice automatically relaxed Taichi. "We're practicing Nightingale and then Sweet Lullaby."
"Perfect," He replied, sitting on the chair she had offered him. Like Koushiro, Hikari grew up in the orphanage with him. Only separated by a few years, the two were like siblings. Taichi was the only one at the orphanage that Hikari would talk to and they immediately formed a bond. "How's the orphanage?" He added, pulling out his instrument and positioning it.
"Well," She smiled, "But they all miss you." She followed suit and lifted her violin. Although she was no where near as good as Taichi, she could play well and accompanied in background tunes and melodies.
Taichi smiled, imagining the voices of his childhood home. But he said nothing of the matter. He was not one to immerse himself in old memories.
"Are we ready, yet?" Sora said impatiently. She had her hands positioned over the keys and waited.
"Yes," They all answered at the same time, in the same soft tune. And, as one, they began to play. Sora introduced each instrument with the silent signal of the piano and they all blended in when their turn came. As Taichi joined the song, followed by Hikari's light and sweet backup, it turned into a sad and longing song. As they neared the end, the other instruments slowly exited the stanza and before long, Taichi was playing the violin solo, beautifully and sorrowfully. As the song ended, everyone let out a breath they had been holding and Taichi lowered the violin to its resting place.
"Wow," Mimi breathed, "You never cease to amaze me, Taichi-san,"
He smiled at her, "Thank you Mimi,"
She smiled back and Sora butted in, "Excuse me, but can we please get on with practice?"
Everyone looked at her back and sighed before hoisting their instruments again. "Finally," She mumbled.
Taichi and Hikari shared a look and they both giggled lightly. They forgot how jealous Sora could be as she barely got to play her own instrument, normally stuck on drums. But soon they were all business and practicing together like they should have been, their music echoing around the deserted hall.
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"Wonderful practice!" Hikari called, waving furiously at Koushiro and Taichi as they waved back, a little more proper then the young woman. She turned and skipped down the street toward the orphanage and the two boys turned the other way and headed down their own street.
The two walked in silence, making their way through the large crowd. It was fifteen minuets pass two o'clock and the citizens all flowed toward little quaint shops, seeking Christmas presents. "Only two more days," Koushiro said, a hint of excitement in his voice. Taichi nodded and smiled at the thought. The theme of Christmas brought him joy but like most years, he would just spend it alone playing Christmas songs on his violin.
The two parted, Taichi promising Koushiro that he would make it home just fine, and began to head toward their respected homes. He shoved his way as delicately as he could through the mass of people that went the opposite way. He shifted his case and sighed, being bumped from person to person. He muttered a 'Sorry,' here and an 'Excuse me,' there when he hit someone with more force then necessary. He made his way through, hoping he could get to the small clock shop in time to take his shift. He sighed and turned off to the cobbled road that lead to his home, which was relatively deserted, and smiled lightly. He hated crowded areas and was pleased to find he wasn't banging into people anymore. He began his way down the road, or large alley, and hugged his case to his chest, walking by what he knew to be the library he had met Yamato in. He instinctively slowed down before he caught himself. Shaking his head he hurried on, blushing. "Don't think of him," He chided himself, "You don't have the time to."
He shook his head to clear his thoughts and hurried home, though the thought of the pianist and his sudden kiss still lingered in his thoughts. He turned a corner and approached the large oak door that led to his sanctuary, pulling the key out of his coat pocket and holding it between his stiff, cold, fingers.
"Are you going to need help opening the door again?"
At the sudden voice, Taichi startled and dropped his key into the thick snow. He blushed lightly and set his case down on the tower steps before dropping to his knees to search blindly for his key. As he shifted the snow through his hands his hand brushed cold skin and he paused, knowing these were the hands of Yamato Mélodie. He pushed down the blush that threatened to overtake his cheeks and mumbled something that neither he, nor Yamato, could understand.
"You obviously do," Yamato smiled, taking Taichi's hand in his and he could feel the cold key held between them. Yamato pulled the brunette up and began to brush himself down and Taichi followed suite, pushing the powdery snow of his already chilled body.
"My key?" He asked, holding his hand out blindly.
Yamato ignored him and unlocked the door, stooping to take his violin case in his hand. "My key?" He asked again, more forcibly, stretching his arm out. But he was once again ignored as he heard Yamato walk up the stone stairs and begin up the wooden spiraling staircase. He stood with his hand outstretched for a few moments before he came to his senses and, feeling like a fool, retook his hand and began to run after the blond. "Hey!" He called, boarding the spiral, "Wait!"
He began to run after him carelessly and Yamato stopped near the top to watch the struggling brunette. As he approached him, the blind musician stumbled and Yamato immediately stepped down to catch him against his chest. "Be careful, you," He chided, "You can't just go running up a staircase like that."
"I know that!" He retorted, pushing himself from Yamato's embrace and steadying himself with the banister.
Yamato raised an eyebrow, "Really?"
"Sh-shut up," He said, flushing as his defense was broken with one word. He grabbed either elbow and brushed pass him, huffing lightly. Yamato laughed softly to himself and followed. Stopping at the top of the staircase he turned slightly toward him, "Why are you here?"
"I thought I'd visit." He said casually, "And besides, I like your music."
He blushed even more, cursing his flushing cheeks. "Fine," Was all he said, taking out another small key and unlocking the door to the attic room. He left the door open for the pianist and he entered, gently putting the case down with a soft 'thump' on the old, worn floor. Taichi shrugged off his coat and held his elbows again, sitting on the small bed's edge and gazing sightlessly at the blond.
Yamato continued to smile slightly and looked around the small attic room. The bed was right in the middle of the floor, covered with a blue and green blanket and one soft looking pillow. The few cloths he had were folded neatly and piled in a corner. The window was bare except for the thin, wispy, light bluish grey fabric that stopped the bleak winter light from entering his room. Cushions were placed on the window sill as a makeshift seat and sheet music was scattered over the shelf below the window, ink and feather pen tucked neatly beside the blank and filled sheets. Besides that, books filled the room. Ignoring the fact that Taichi couldn't read, he opened one that was resting by the stack of parchment and flipped it open. The pages were pure white with only small circular uprising on the page. Brail, he thought, running his fingers over the rather new way of reading. It was apparent that this was the only one of the hundreds scattered over the room that was like this, the others old and printed with ink. Other then books, clocks filled the room, the soft tick-tock of the only working one evident. Clock parts were slowly taking shape and a few were finished but not wound. "Interesting," He mumbled, setting the cat shaped clock down.
He went toward the window and unlatched it, flinging the window panes open. He leaned out and watched the snow fall gracefully. "You have a wonderful view," He told him. Taichi turned lightly toward him. He blushed as he pictured the image of Yamato looking so serene.
"I know," He mumbled, getting up and walking toward him. "I know," He said again, softer. He stopped beside the taller man and stood there, wishing he could see the snowflakes. "What do they look like?" He suddenly asked.
Yamato smiled, "Like snowflakes,"
Taichi pouted and took his hand, gripping his fingers lightly with his. "Jerk,"
Yamato smiled, "Well, how else would you describe them?"
Taichi sulked and leaned against him and Yamato wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "Why are you suddenly so cuddly?" He asked smirking.
"...I'm… cold," He said, the words even sounded lame to his own ears.
Yamato laughed lightly and hugged him to his side, "Of course you are,"
They stood there, watching the downpour of white flakes, and keeping their hands intertwined. "Taichi?" Yamato suddenly asked, and surprised that it wasn't an order, Taichi immediately responded.
"Yes?"
"Play for me. And only me." This time, it was an order and Taichi blushed and let go of his pale, cold hand.
"Why?"
"I came to hear you play."
He glared at him lightly, moving towards his bed, grabbing the old violin that had been resting on his pillow. "Only if you promise to play for me." He said, blushing.
Yamato smirked and sat on the bed. "Alright," He said, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them. "Now play."
Wondering why he was intrigued by his played, he cocked the violin up to his shoulder and, passively, began to play.
Yamato watched him; eyes scanning his every movement, a smile forming on his lips as he continued to play in front of the large window, the falling snow acting as a curtain, the candle light the spot light.
And Yamato, the audience.
As Taichi played, Yamato silently got up from the soft mattress of the bed, and glided over toward the stringing brunette. He took his chin in his hands and, as Taichi opened his eyes but didn't stop playing, he kissed him on the lips, wrapping his arms around Taichi's waist. "Une telle belle musique," He mumbled, pulling away slightly to gaze into Taichi's sightless eyes.
Taichi stopped playing abruptly and stared unseeingly at Yamato. Around them, the clock tower struck three times and Yamato pulled away and smiled at the shorter boy. "Au revoir."
"Wha?" Taichi said, eyes opening fully, listening to him walking away. "W-wait!" He called, putting his violin down on his bed and opening the slightly a jarred door. "Yamato!"
Yamato smiled as he heard Taichi come down the stairs, calling his name. "I'll play for you tomorrow at the library," He said, stopping with his hand on the door, "Be there," The smile was evident in his voice and Taichi felt the cold gust of wind brush past him as he left.
"Wait!" He called, one last time, softly to himself. He came to rest at the doorway, gazing sightlessly at the flurries that raged in front of him. "...stay." He finished, closing his eyes and clutching his chest. He knew he was gone and he swiftly stepped back into the chilled corridor and shut the door, blocking off the worlds sounds and the disappearing figure that walked alone in the snow.
Taichi slowly escalated the stairs, opening the door to his room slowly, shutting it with a soft click. He picked up his violin and stood in front of the window and began to play.
Below the window, Yamato smiled and stopped in the middle of the street, listening to the echo of a violinist world.
3.-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-. 3
Well, first chapter gone and done. Tell me what you think, okay? Reviews get another chapter.
Dictionary for the French Impared: :D
Violin et Arc- Fiddle and Bow
Lune Majestueuse- Majestic Moon
Bibliothèque des ailes- Library of the Wings
C'était une telle belle musique- It was such beautiful music
Mignon-Nice, darling, ect
Un si beau visage-Such a beautiful face
Au revoir, mon violinist- Goodbye, my violinist
L'aimé- Beloved
Joyeuses Rrécipitations - Merry Rainfall
Intemporel- Timeless
Soleil- Sun
Douleur- Sorrow/pain
Une telle belle musique- Such Beautiful Music
Au revoir- Goodbye