AN: It's called Violin because of a song I heard. It's a rather popular song, perhaps you've heard of it: It Ends Tonight, by The All-American Rejects. Now, this fic has absolutely nothing to do with the lyrics of that song, but... I'm a dork about music—I go to musicals, listen to symphonies, all that supposedly dumb stuff. And I've developed quite an ear for picking out individual voices, be they human, instrument, or otherwise. It Ends Tonight has a rather interesting violin line. And that's what started this.
Continuity: Could be post-series, could be not. I really don't know, nor do I care. This has more to do with symbolism and metaphor than timeline. That said, I wonder if anyone will actually read this...
Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh or the song It Ends Tonight.
Anzu Mazaki never liked silence. She could often been seen humming to herself as she walked home from school, dancing a bit as she went, as there was always a song running along the back of her mind. When all seemed lost, and no one else seemed able to say anything, she hated the silence, and said whatever came into her head to fill up the space... not always the smartest thing, but she did it anyway. Silence was scary in a way that Shadow Games and magic circles and obsessed megalomaniacs could never be: it would build. It would build on itself and get bigger and bigger until it smothered you.
She'd had a walkman since she was six—about the same time she started dancing, actually. And when music is such a big part of your life for such a long time, you learn a thing or two about the object of your affection. She knew the ins and outs of her various CD and MP3 players, her cell phone ringtones were constantly changing, and whenever a new song came out on the radio, Anzu Mazaki was always the first to hear it. She could identify all the notes on both scales, and even sing, a little.
Her father had taken her to an opera once—a sweet gesture, even though he fell asleep within the first act. But while he was snoozing, Anzu sat in rapt attention, awestruck by the way the dancers all moved as one, as though mimicking the music that positively exploded from the orchestra's pit. The music all moved as one too; each instrument supported and was supported by all the music around it, and yet at the same time the music needed each individual voice to be complete. One... and all. They were the same, and neither was truly whole without the other.
In all of her short life, Anzu had never seen, heard, or felt anything like it! Those dancers and musicians poured their hearts into their art, and the music and motion carried their hearts to her. All night long, she shivered uncontrollably, but not because it was cold. She could feel their emotions, their lives, their souls as they reached out to her, with the sole purpose of telling her their story, of making her happy, of giving her this joy.
Then and there, she decided: she would return the favor of that magical night, and help give that same joy to the rest of the world.
Nearly ten years later, few things had changed. Anzu was still determined to be a Broadway dancer when she grew up, and knew that day was closer every minute. She was still convinced that music was the greatest thing since sliced bread (or so her grandmother would tell her before and after each of her ballet recitals), and was rarely seen without some musical medium on her person. She had grown into a beautiful young woman, and met some very unlikely friends along the way. Now she couldn't imagine life without them, any more than she could imagine life without her music.
What she liked most was instrumental music. Not necessarily classical, rock was usually better, but anything with a good strong rhythm that could be choreographed to pretty much any style of dancing was great by her. Today, however, Anzu deviated from her usual pattern. It was a Friday, and as she was walking home after the last bell, she thought something different was in order. Searching through her old CDs, she came across one that looked interesting. It had been a gift from one of her old girlfriends, she couldn't remember which one. They had all stopped talking to her when she made friends with the likes of Yugi Mutou and Katsuya Jonouchi. Social suicide! they had all tittered when they thought she couldn't hear. As if ears trained to pick up the slightest change in pitch couldn't hear their whispering. But Anzu didn't care, not anymore.
Carefully examining the CD for scratches—it hadn't been played in a while—she paused at the sight of her reflection. Something was different. She squinted slightly, as if trying to see details beyond what the polished surface of the disc could reflect. Cropped brown hair, check. Brown bangs in need of a trim, check. Round blue eyes, check. Anzu frowned, wondering what it was she saw, but the memory of it eluded her.
A soft golden glow coming from a box. A hand opens the lid with an almost reverent touch. "It's my most precious thing," he says quietly, sharing his greatest secret with her and her alone. "I've never shown anyone else..." Sparkling, beautiful, but broken, shattered beyond all repair. How can he hope to put it together again? After eight years of failure, how does he still hope to succeed? The memory of something else broken, not fixable, but treasured in its brokenness all the same. A Gameboy. A gift. A token of friendship, and the beginnings of so much more.
Shrugging, she placed the disc in the CD player and searched for a good song. The lyrics were in English, and even though she was fairly good with the language, Anzu preferred not to try and translate it. She thought it might be why she had kept this CD: with the human voices singing in a language she didn't know very well, she could just listen to the music by itself, and not be distracted by all the words. True, lyrics sometimes heightened the effect, but it was really the music that give the song life.
A hand falls with intent to harm, but she slaps it away. "What do you think you're doing?" she cries. She is outraged, and protects him, thereby sealing her fate. She and he are now linked in the eyes of the world. She made a decision and there was no going back. He looks at her, and knows what she has done for him. She looks back at him, and thinks that it was worth it. She knows that he is better than those with intent to harm, and hopes to become so herself, one day. He smiles, a simple, everyday radiance, and she knows she is one step closer.
It started slow. There was a fairly basic, downward-scaling tune playing on a piano. A final note was played, and a male vocalist entered the piece. Anzu didn't try to understand what he was singing, but she could tell he sounded sad. Though maybe that was from the piano, the way it played these soft, lonely chords around the lyrics. After a few more measures a guitar joined in, as well as an occasional tap of some cymbals. It sounded just as sad, but the tempo picked up a bit, and there seemed to be hope for something happier.
Confusion. She sees him with others, and knows this is unusual. Especially with these others. Two others whom she had chased off only yesterday. Now they were sitting, laughing, together. What had happened? She walks over to him, startlement on her face. He introduces them to her, as though they had never met before. As though they were different people than who they were yesterday. And looking at them, perhaps they were. Perhaps they too had seen what she had.
Anzu almost didn't notice the violin in the background. It just seemed to slip in completely unnoticed, almost as though it preferred it that way. In a way, Anzu had to agree. Sometimes it was better to keep to the back of things—often you could do more good as a subtle key-change than the attention-grabbing vocalist. Few people knew or appreciated a good background player, but the truth was that the entire piece usually depended solely on the one keeping all the voices together. Usually that role fell to a loud drum or a good bass tuba. This time is was a soft violin line. It finished the measure alone with a wavering, hopeful note.
It was the strangest thing. He was still the same, and yet fundamentally, imperceptibly different. Just as the golden Puzzle he refused to take from around his neck was suddenly, mysteriously completed, so to was he, without any explanation. Now he sat with his own group of friends, talking and laughing easily, as though they had always been there. She sits with him, and finds herself liking the difference.
An electric guitar played a steady beat of harsh chords that cut through the rest of the instruments, even the vocalist, and the violin fell to the back, all but forgotten. It was hard, sharp, and angry, and for a moment it seemed like it would throw the entire song out of whack. But then the violin came forward and played duet with the guitar for a while, and actually seemed to soothe the furious instrument. The guitar line went from destructive and angry, to despairing and confused, and then, miraculously, to a steady, reliable force that lead the rest of the song.
But still, even though the song followed the guitar, the guitar followed the violin.
And then came the day at the restaurant. The day she first met him. She never saw him, but he saved her life multiple times. She found out that there were two he's, and confusion commenced. Which was he? Where did her heart reside, with the first or the second? She thought she knew, but then the first was taken away, and everything fell apart again. And of course, ever looming, was the day the second would leave them for good...
A few drumbeats accentuated the lyrics, and as the second verse flowed into the chorus, the violin began its soft melody again, a different tune this time. It actually seemed a bit more confident, more willing to take the spotlight, and Anzu found herself encouraging the little instrument. It was so easily overlooked, its quiet little melody overshadowed by the louder instruments, but beautiful all the same. It was light and airy, and at the same time a solid presence for her to lean against. Seriousness with a smile, and the type of person that would act happy even when he wasn't, just so you wouldn't worry...
Oh my god... With all the subtlety of a ton of bricks, the realization hit her.
She wasn't thinking about the violin at all.
-o-
When the song ended, Anzu pressed the back button on the CD player and played it again. And again. She stopped to finish her homework for the weekend, and again to eat dinner with her mom, but almost immediately afterward, she was up in her room, listening to that song again.
Her parents paid her very little mind, of course. Anzu sitting in her room listening to music all day was hardly an uncommon occurrence, so they left her alone. She, however, was in turmoil, in a way that she hadn't been since Rafael had taken Yugi away...
Dammit!
It always came back to him! When did this happen? How did it happen? Without even realizing it, Anzu had gotten so much deeper into this than she had ever intended that day in third grade.
Plopping down on her featherbed with a light whumph, Anzu blinked at the oddly muddled thought. Part of her wondered why the idea bothered her so. The rest of her was appalled at the idea that it wouldn't bother her. It screamed back—rather more hysterically than Anzu would have liked to admit—that Yugi was her best friend! Not only did she not feel that way about him, but she did feel that way about someone else... a certain someone who could make her relationship with Yugi very complicated indeed...
Not wanting to go down that road, she flipped the song back on. She had paused it roughly in the middle when she last went downstairs, and it started playing from there, just after the violin was suddenly silenced, and the vocalist unleashed a bridge verse that sounded more like a scream. His voice echoed into the distance, as though he was crying out in despair, and the electric guitar immediately followed with a series of particularly violent chords.
Never once did she fear him. But seeing him so unsure of himself, refusing to talk to anyone, made her more afraid than anything else he'd done. The desolate look on his face... he just seemed so lost. And when Haga tore that card... it was months before the sound of his guttural scream left her nightmares. That, and the look of unadulterated fury, the pure, murderous rage in his eyes, the likes of which she had never seen... she didn't know if that would ever leave her...
Anzu sat up and pressed the pause button. She stared at the little nightstand radio suspiciously, but the timer blinked innocently back up at her, simply waiting for her to press buttons and do as she pleased.
"The gods speak to us through music," her grandmother used to tell her, "The songs speak to our hearts, and tell us the answers to questions we didn't even know we asked."
What was this song trying to tell her?
-o-
Saturday passed, and Sunday. Typically, Anzu ended up avoiding Yugi all weekend. He called at one point, actually, to say that he and the others were going to a movie. Anzu told her mom, who had answered the phone, to tell him that she had dance practice that day, and she complied. Exactly three hours later, Honda called her cell phone.
"You know," he began patiently, "Yugi knows when you have dance practice. And even if he didn't, he can tell when he's being lied to."
Anzu was immediately furious with herself. Did she really expect Yugi to fall for something so cliche, like some child being told about the Tooth Fairy? Though most of her was angry that she'd lied at all. Not only was she terrible at it, she hated doing it, especially to her friends. But could she really tell Yugi that she simply couldn't see him?
Taking her silence as an admission, Honda went on. "Call me an observant guy, but it seems to me that the only ones who won't admit what's between you two are you and Yugi. Don't try to deny it, we all know it's true." There was a distinct grin in his voice. "Not that I can blame him or anything. I mean, I think Otogi might have tried going out with you, if it wasn't so obvious that you're taken." Definitely grinning, though Anzu refused to rise to the bait. But then the smile faded. "But seriously, Anzu, it wasn't cool to lie to him like that."
"I know..." she admitted.
"You really hurt his feelings..."
"I know..."
"'Cause he's really got it bad for you..."
"I know!" Anzu was stunned. Not just at her outburst, but at what it contained. She hadn't truly know that she'd known that, but as soon as she said it, she knew it to be true.
"The gods speak to us through music. The songs speak to our hearts and tell us the answers to questions we didn't even know we asked."
Did she want to know the answer?
"Honda," she croaked, "I have to go."
"Anzu..."
"I'll see you at school on Monday." And she hung up before he could say anything else.
-o-
Lying in bed that night, Anzu thought about that Honda said. Did they really think that? Did they really see her and Yugi as... together?
Tossing lightly, she wondered what she thought of that. She had known Yugi longer than the rest of them, it was true. And aside from Shizuka and the absent Mai, she was the only female in their rag-tag little group of world-savers. But that hardly meant she was obligated to form a relationship with her closest friend!
Frowning, Anzu turned over and punched her pillow into a new shape. A useless gesture, really, as it wasn't the state of her bed that was keeping her awake.
Music usually helped her get to sleep, but...
Anzu frowned again, and tried to put all thoughts of pairings out of her mind. If she had to be completely honest with herself, it wouldn't really be a pairing anyway, it never was. If anything, it would be some kind of wierd triangle, with two points of it in the same person.
I mean, you can get advice about relationships, but who could help me with this? Nothing like this had ever happened before. He wore the Millennium Puzzle, and out came this... entity. Who was this stranger in her best friend's skin? His eyes bore a dangerous glint, he carried himself differently, spoke with considerably more confidence, and wore Yugi's bizarre hair like a crown. Everything about Yugi just... sharpened when this stranger came out, cutting the air with his silhouette. There was undoubtedly a certain sense of danger about him. Maybe girls were just taught to love dangerous things...
Oh man...
Anzu didn't like the direction her thoughts were going in, but she was completely powerless to stop them.
There was absolutely no denying that she loved him. Both of him. But the two of them were so mixed up in her mind that there was no hope of untangling the mess she'd made. She thought she had them separated. She thought each of them occupied clear and distinct places in her heart. But the knowledge that had been fighting for her attention, the answer to the question she didn't want to ask, was that nothing could be further from the truth. Every time she looked at one of them, she would somehow see the other. All three of them knew it, and tried to ignore it, but that just made it worse for everybody.
"All these thoughts locked inside..." Without realizing it, Anzu had reached over to her radio and turned the CD player on again. She didn't understand the words, but the meaning was clear.
The violin fell quiet, and the rest of the song with it, as though awaiting a response the question no one wanted to ask.
"Now you're the first to know."
She cried as the song played through once again, the violin and electric guitar ending the piece on exactly the same note.
-o-
Monday morning, and Anzu was debating on faking an illness to get out of school. But if she couldn't lie to her friends, what made her think she could lie to her parents? And truthfully, they were very good parents, who gave her her space and let her keep her own secrets. They didn't ask any questions about a "sleepover at Yugi's house" that lasted four days, even though he was a boy. They didn't mind when she took off from school to watch the Battle City tournament, only making certain that she was caught up on her work afterwards. They didn't even mind that she took an impromptu trip to America the following summer, as long as she could pay her own way there and took all the necessary safety precautions.
Anzu's parents trusted her, and she simply couldn't lie to them. They didn't deserve it, and neither did she.
But she couldn't face Yugi yet either! This ongoing problem was like a wall between them, and everyone knew it. Yugi most of all. She was starting to see him and his recent actions in a whole new light. He knew perfectly well that she had a crush on Yami, and so forwent his own desires in order to make her happy.
And that was what hurt most of all.
"Anzu?"
She nearly jumped at the sudden interruption, but forced her voice down. "Yeah Mom?"
Mrs. Mazaki peered critically at her daughter. "Are you feeling alright, honey? You look a little pale."
Anzu sighed heavily. "I just... have a lot on my mind." She picked at her breakfast uninterestedly.
"Feel like sharing it?"
"Not really."
Mrs. Mazaki nodded slowly. "Alright then," she said, "You know where I am if you need me." She paused, then added, "Just remember that trying to fight your emotions is like damming a river: it'll work for a time, but when it inevitably breaks, the resulting flood can be devastating. Better to just go with the flow."
Not for the first time, Anzu wondered if mothers could read minds.
-o-
Deciding to take the scenic (longer) route to school, and going as slow as humanly possible, Anzu slid her headphones into place one more time, pleading to any gods listening to give her some answers!
As the first verse played through, her thoughts unconsciously drifted back to her mother's words. "You're fighting things that you didn't know..." After listening to the song so many times, Anzu couldn't help translating a few of the lines, even if it was by accident. Still, most of them were dead on. She had kept her emotions buried so deep even she couldn't find them until the music drew them to the surface.
That's probably what grandma meant, she mused thoughtfully, Different musical rhythms and melodies remind you of things you've forgotten. Little snippets of melody, the tune of a single instrument among many, brought up so many memories she thought had been permanently stored away. Until she remembered the emotions of those times, she would never be able to fully comprehend the emotions that were inside her now. And if she couldn't understand what was going on in her head, how could she expect him to? "I can't explain myself at all..."
The violin took up its quiet melody once again, floating along the back of the score. While the electric guitar commanded all of the attention, the violin seemed to be waiting for something. It grew quiet for a while as the piano tried to play a few notes around the guitar, but that didn't seem to work out at all. It just continued strumming out its harsh chords as though it were playing solo, and the piano fell into a thoughtful sort of silence. Meanwhile, the violin had reappeared on the scene, flowing effortlessly around both the guitar and the lyrics, even though it shared a tune with neither. The music reached a crescendo, bridging into the chorus with an crash of cymbals and an explosion of sound.
Odd how, though it was the first's light and love that originally attracted her, she had fallen in love with the second's charisma and daring. But was it truly love? For all that his presence made her heart leap, was it really just the sight of the first acting with the confidence she knew he had that made her so happy? He had certainly proven that he had the power all along to act on his own. She watched as, for the first time, and with the help of friends both without and within, the Yugi Mutou took the spotlight.
For the first time, the violin's music flew completely on its own, sailing over the other instruments with ease. What was more, the other instruments supported it in its flight, acting as thermals under the wings of a bird. Listening, Anzu couldn't help but smile. The violin could fly completely on its own if it wanted to (and it finally knew that for itself), but it chose not to. Instead, it heightened the effect of the entire song by bringing the rest of the voices up with it.
That one was so obviously symbolic, Anzu thought she might laugh. From hiding in the background to taking the spotlight, Yugi's journey was a classic fairytale, full of friendship, adventure, and... well—love. And Yugi himself was just so full of love, he immediately won over almost all he came in contact with, without even trying. Yami was certifiably insane when they first met, but Yugi had still offered his friendship and compassion freely, just as he did to everyone else. Yami, in turn, had protected his light, and taught him to raise his own voice. Yugi had a power that all of them recognized, but none of them understood. He was a candle in the sun, and it took the presence of darkness to allow him to shine like the star he truly was.
Stars shine long after they die, but it may take years before you know that one is born.
Yugi is what stars should be, Anzu decided firmly. Not distant and untouchable, but right there, inviting you to shine right along with them. And that, she realized, was what she loved about him. He never acted any better than others, he didn't even offer himself as an example. He just did the best he could, and shyly invited you to do the same. He believed - truly believed, without a doubt in his mind - that you would do the same, and that belief fostered reality. He made people better without even realizing it. He was a real friend.
What was more, he stayed a friend. The pair of them had stood together through good times and bad, and she learned what a true friend was, not one of those fairweather girls she'd hung out with before. Even as others joined in and their little group grew, the bond between just them remained. Jonouchi had replaced her as Yugi's "best friend," but maybe she'd gone beyond that stage. Perhaps what they had together was something different, something... more.
Noting the subconscious quickening of her step, and her excitement to get to school, Anzu smiled, and finally conceded that her friends were right all along.
The violin line soared into the clouds.
-o-
As the school building came into view, Anzu wondered what she would say. Nothing coherent immediately came to mind, but as far as she could tell, there was nothing to say. Nothing compared to this feeling—she felt like dancing, her head was so light and clear! Joy radiated from her chest and spread along her limbs like flames, giving her new energy and life.
It reminded her of the music at the opera.
She still didn't quite understand what she was supposed to do, or what these feelings might mean for her and her future. Anzu lived in a world where nothing made sense, and her friends might be lost to her at the drop of a hat. But for now, as long as they were together, and happy, she was content to live and love as she might, trusting in the bond between them, and knowing that they—that he—would always come back to her, come what may. And that, she decided, is how we're supposed to live.
Pounding softly in her headphones as she walked forward, the song played through for the last time. Drums, piano, guitar, electric guitar, and lyricist wove around each other and themselves in a dance as intricate and beautiful as any Broadway production. It was a dance of love and pain, of triumph and loss, but mostly it was a celebration of life itself. And over it all flew the violin line, floating effortlessly above the rest, turning darkness into light wherever it went. And though the song might end, true music would never leave the hearts of those it touched.
Someone stood outside the school gate, watching her, as if he knew exactly where she'd be.
Laughing, she ran to meet him.
"You are the music, while the music lasts." —T.S. Eliot.
AN: If you read this far, congratulations! You did better than I probably could have - paragraph after exceedingly long paragraph with no dialogue breaks can be hard to plough through, but that's the way it came out. Am I better at writing it than reading it?
You might notice that it seems a little like two fics put together. That wasn't on purpose either, but I think that a person's innermost thoughts are somewhat different, and slightly more truthful, than what you'd actually admit to yourself. I tried to make the transitions manageable.
o-o-o-o-o
Extras:
Anzu Mazaki never liked silence...
—Partly influenced by the beginning of Scribler's Something Quiet to Ease My Mind, a lovely little story, and in interesting new take on pre-canon Yugioh.
All night long, she shivered uncontrollably, but not because it was cold...
—This bit is based on me, actually. It's what happens when I hear a really great musical piece where everything fits together absolutely perfectly, and you can quite literally feel the heart of the artist. It truly is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world.
Two others whom she had chased off only yesterday. Now they were sitting, laughing together...
—I know that manga!Honda didn't become friends with Yugi until a good bit later than Jonouchi, but I just lumped them together in this. Hope no one minds.
They didn't ask any questions about a "sleepover at Yugi's house" that lasted four days, even though he was a boy...
—Referring to Duelist Kingdom here. I counted: they were on that island for three days and two nights, plus the night spent on the ship getting there. The Doma season reference is debatable, but eight days is what I settled on. Mention it in a review, and I can give you my timeline.
Someone stood outside the school gate, watching her, as if he knew exactly where she'd be...
—Heavily influenced by the closing lines of Diane Duane's Wizards at War, if you reverse the gender pronouns. It's the eighth installment in the Young Wizards series, and, in my opinion, the best so far. Though number nine is coming out in the fall, so we'll see if it keeps getting better. I can't wait!
o-o-o-o-o
Win? Fail? Divide by zero? Review and tell me what you think.