Concerto

...

He thought he was used to the spotlight, to the pressure of everyone's eyes watching his every move. With practice and discipline, a habit implemented by his family ever since he was small, he knew he shouldn't be afraid.

But as he stood on that familiar stage, noticing everyone's gaze on him, he felt his pulse raising. Cold sweats dripping down his back, stomach churned.

Tezuka Kunimitsu finally caught the jitters.

"It'll be fine." His classmates whispered to him, noticing his strange demeanor.

He barely heard him over his loud heartbeats.

In front of him laid the school orchestra members, all divided into their sections. They filled the stage neatly; ready to give life to the music they were about to play.

At the front of the orchestra was the conductor, also known as his music teacher. The older man in his mid forties stood tall with his baton. Like magic, he flicked the stick upwards, focusing the orchestra member. Then they all switched their attention to the grand piano sitting next to the conductor.

A familiar face manned the large instrument. His eyes were closed. He was calm, unlike the tennis captain. In a second, the piano started to unravel.

Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto no.2.

Composed between the autumn of 1900 and 1901, the piece was a triumphant tribute to the composer recovery from depression and writer's block.

It's a beautiful and complicated concerto. The agitated and unstable developments, the changing keys that built up to create a new musical idea. The initial tension was released gradually, followed by a softer, lighter tune - a release from its initial darkness.

Tezuka never knew much about classical music. His family was a traditional one, rooted deeply in the Japanese culture. He grew up listening to enka instead.

But his grandmother played the piano. He remembered listening to her music on that tatami floor. The sun shining above, the wind chime made of glass rang softly. Her favourite pieces were those made by Bach and Beethoven.

"Tezuka, it's almost your turn." Reminded the male classmates beside him, bringing him back.

The golden cymbals in his hands felt heavy.

He caught a glimpse of the clear blue eyes looking straight at him, noticing the smug smile on the prodigy's face.

Tezuka still couldn't believe he actually agreed to do this.

With his heart continued to pound rapidly, he lifted the cymbals, ready for his turns. His eyes watched the black notes carefully.

Fuji continued to hit the piano with precision and emotional weight that gave life to the music. His fingers fluttered from one octave to another.

Tezuka remembered the nights where they practiced together, just the two of them. The wide smile, the warmth radiating from the slender body.

He almost missed his queue.

.

.

.

Bang.

He hit the two cymbals together, producing that particular sound to enrich the orchestra. His heart felt lighter immediately.

Fuji watched him again from the grand piano. That smug smile turned wider as the concerto continued to reach its ending.

He still planned to punish the sneaky prodigy later.


Notes:

Last one of the Pianism series.

Originally posted in AO3. I hope you enjoyed this one.

Thanks for reading.