DISCLAIMER: La Corda D'Oro belongs to Yuki Kure and to all its legitimate owners.

©CHEERFULHOSHI 2015. All rights reserved.


SEASON'S GREETINGS

There is merriment once again in the Fuyuumi vacation manor as the concours participants, their accompanists, as well as a certain journalist, welcome the break. School had ended successfully for all of them and they thought it would be nice to celebrate Christmas together. Besides, the flutist Azuma Yunoki and the trumpeter Kazuki Hihara were going to college soon. The sophomores would be seniors, and the freshmen would of course, be moving up as well.

And while everyone is engulfed in the spirit of gift-giving and joy, there is one is particular who has his eyebrows scrunched in irritation. Len Tsukimori, because of some unlucky hand, lost in a game of cards. And as a punishment, he gets to cook. For everyone.

.

.

.

"I hate to say this, but it's everyone's loss," the greenhead pianist said in a manner of teasing, shrugging his shoulders and smirking.

The blunette's eyes flickered at him.

"Oh? So are you offering your help, Tsuchiura-kun?" The flutist asked with a smile, making Ryoutaro inwardly cringe.

"Cool! I can't wait! I'm sure the food's going to be delicious!" The trumpeter exclaimed. "But didn't Tsukimori burn the food before?"

"Uwaaa! It's going to be my first to see them work together! I'll make sure to capture that!" The journalist cried enthusiastically.

"I didn't really—"

"It would be nice if you helped, Tsuchiura-kun! Fuyuumi-chan is worried about her house—I mean, Tsukimori-kun…" The redhead violinist said with a smile.

The clarinetist paled. "K-Kaho-senpai!"

"Well then, let the cooking show begin!" The trumpeter declared and everyone cheered. It was indeed the spirit of merriment. And since a common enemy unites even the oldest of foes, both Len and Ryoutaro are going to skewer their loud-mouthed senpai together (and maybe even a certain flutist who initiated the conversation). Kazuki Hihara (and perhaps Azuma Yunoki as well) had better watch his back.

But oh, imagine the feast that they would have!


Prompt: 391 Those Who Lose