She looked at the list of people she had scribbled in her notepad. Of the six, three were crossed out, Li Yixin from China, Sascha Rochev from the Ukraine, and Dietfried Scheiner from Germany. Three remained. So that day, she found herself on the bus, heading to meet her fourth interviewee, a young man from Japan called Kousei Arima, the one that played La Campanella so well that Nia didn't fall asleep.
She got off the bus at the terminus near the waterfront, and headed towards one of the fancy hotels that sprang up across the shoreline. A bellhop in a grey uniform opened the door for her, and smiling, she nodded her thanks at him. She looked around, trying to find the restaurant she would be conducting the interview at.
Walking towards the waiter at the entrance, she said her name and was led over to a seat by the tall floor to ceiling windows, in a secluded corner of the restaurant.
"Ma'am, would you like something to drink?" asked the waiter.
"I'll wait until the rest of the party arrives," she replied, smiling.
She set out the equipment she needed, such as her digital recorder, a pen and a notepad.
While she was waiting, she took out her phone to respond to texts, until she heard footsteps approaching her. Turning her head, she saw two people walking towards her. A young man that looked even younger than her (it was hard to tell with Asians), and an older woman.
She stood up and greeted them, sticking out her hand to shake. The young man shook her hand without qualms, but the older woman hesitated a bit, and then shook it. That small hesitation reminded her of those moments when she first left Krypton, where she would greet everyone with a Kryptonian bezhgamehd, instead of a handshake. It took years just to get rid of the habit, and even these days, it took a shear amount of willpower just to not to do it and blend in.
"I assume that you are Mr Kousei Arima, right?" Kara smiled, as they took their seats.
"You will be correct, Miss Kara El, is it?" he retorted.
"Yes, and firstly, may congratulate you on going forward to the finals," Kara enquired, her interest piqued with this pianist.
"Thank you, and before I forget, this is Hiroko Seto, my piano coach and all round mentor, she's been a mother figure to me in more ways that I can imagine," he gestured to the older woman beside him.
"Good day, Ms Seto," she smiled, nodding her head, then giving a glance at her watch, she turned back to Arima and spoke, "we only have a fixed amount of time, so let us begin. When I was researching on every single contestant, including you, I remember reading that you won the Saki Competition when you were twelve, one of the most prestigious in Japan, when afterwards, you took a hiatus, and then returned a few years later with an entirely different playing style, how did that happen?"
"That's also the reason why I didn't choose the Beethoven, even though it was an option. After the Saki Competition, I joined another one and it was right after my mother passed. I had a panic attack on stage playing the third movement of the Moonlight Sonata. It was then that I decided to stop playing the piano, too many memories. A few years later, a really nice girl, I thought that she was quite bossy at first but she turned out to be a violinist, she dragged me in to be her accompanist. Slowly I fell in love with the piano and her at the same time."
"Must be one hell of a girl, must be nice to finally find the love of your life," Kara pondered.
"Yeah, she was fierce, the light in my heart," Arima smiled at the memory of his loved one, placing a hand on his chest and gripping at his shirt.
Realising what he meant by that, Kara blanched, "I'm so sorry, I apologise for that, I didn't realise," she rambled her apologies.
"Calm down, it was a long time ago, she did make an impact, but I've long accepted that she's left."
Kara rushed through the rest of the rest of her questions, knowing that she couldn't stall due to both her and her interviewee's busy schedules. Chop chop, her own mentor, Cat Grant, would have said if she was here.
Before long, she was closing up her interview, so standing up she smiled at the two of them, "Thank you Mr Arima and Ms Seto, it was a pleasure meeting the both of you, and before you leave, I'd like to say, Mr Arima, at the day of the competition, I was there with an intern to film it. She fell asleep at the previous performances. But at your performance, she was hooked, basically wrapped up in the entire thing. I'd like to give you my compliments on achieving that."
"Please, you're too kind. But if she does pick up the piano and mentions me, I'd like to know that I still have the Kousei Effect," he replied.
Then, all of them burst out laughing.
"Break a leg, Mr Arima," she said as they left, and she started to pack her things, before waving over a waiter to pay the bill using her company credit card.
She was thankful that CatCo reimbursed her for food and drink done during interviews, otherwise the high class restaurants that some of her guests liked would have been unobtainable.
Heading out of the restaurant, she strolled along the waterfront, where along with fancy hotels, there were cafes with open air seating, as well as people on bikes having fun. The salty ocean breeze from the western Pacific whipped through her hair, reminding her of her childhood years, carefree and innocent, where her parents would bring her to Argo City's waterfront facing the Sea of Banzit, and much like the children here, ride bikes, fly kites, eat ice cream.
Oh, how that could change in the blink of an eye.
Sitting on a bench in the square outside the convention center, she sent an email over to her next interviewee, the American called Michael Matthews. After all, he was the one who had wanted to do it somewhere open instead of in a restaurant, cafe or office.
It was bright and sunny that day, despite being cold, and the sea breeze did nothing to help supply her with some warmth. But, she was used to it, having come from a colder climate, and survived with less clothing in it. She watched the waves lap, shimmering as the water reflected the sun's rays.
Suddenly, it was dimmer, someone had blocked her sunlight. Someone was standing in front of her.
"Are you Miss Kara El of CatCo Worldwide Media?" asked a man.
Reacting to her name being said, Kara turned to the voice, the man had dark brown hair and a beard, his glasses glinted in the sunlight, and he held out a phone, with the email she had sent to a certain Mike Matthews on the screen.
No wonder he looked familiar, "Mr Michael Matthews is it?"
"Yeah, and please, call me Mon-El."
"Mon-El? That's an interesting name," Kara replied, scooting over on the bench a little, and patting the space next to her. He took the seat.
"It's a family joke," he laughed, "my dad slipped up when saying my name for the first time, and it stuck."
"I'd pay good money to see it," Kara kidded, "anyway, I think that we should start our interview now, we're burning light." She rummaged through her bag for her recorder and took it out, holding it at an angle so both of their voices could be received properly.
"Mon-El, I was there at the last round of the competition, and your performance of the third movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata stuck with me. I mean, you followed the sheets perfectly, care to elaborate on how you did it?"
"Sure," Mon-El grinned, "let's just say, I've played that thing way too many times to count, so with some extra practice, it could be an easy way forward."
"I mean, I've read the sheets, and the dynamics, rhythm, tempo, you followed it to a tee, that's an incredible feat," Kara continued, hoping to get him to say more.
"What can I say, my parents blessed me with good genes to be a musician. And the perfect environment to nurture the talent in me," he replied, haughtily, "So, Miss Journalist, want to head out for celebratory drinks after the interview? Celebrate me being interviewed by an international publication." He reached his hand over to touch her face.
But before he could even do it, Kara had swatted his hand away, "Sir, I am working on a tight schedule here, may I strongly suggest we crack on."
"I'm sure your next interviewee won't mind, Brainy is very laid back after all."
"I don't know if the Mr Dox is the person you call Brainy, but I'd prefer to be able to have enough time to write this up, so I'd like to continue with the interview. Please."
That shut him up, and she continued to ask the relevant questions. She was incredibly relieved when the interview finished. She had to admit, he was a brilliant pianist, and she wouldn't be surprised if he won. But he was such a frat boy, she wouldn't be surprised if he had actually been in a fraternity.
Knowing that Mon-El had stalled, she was running towards the cafe where she would be meeting the Canadian, Querl Dox for her next interview.
She arrived at her destination just in the nick of time, and it came of no shock to her when she saw a head of dark hair at the table the waiter led her to.
"I apologise, my previous interviewee kept going off on tangents," she breathed as soon as she sat down.
"Nothing big, I know Mon-El, a mutual friend introduced us during college."
"Which one? I'm curious, I know he went to Juilliard, where did you go?"
"Metropolis University," he replied.
Kara smiled, and raised her hand for a high-five, "MU! Go Purple!" she exclaimed, startling some of the other customers because of her outburst.
Querl Dox smiled and returned the gesture.
Sitting down, he poured steaming hot tea from a pot into the two cups on the table. Delicately, he added a bit of milk and one spoonful of sugar, "Ah," he sighed, "it's hard to find a good tea in this country these days, I hope you don't mind, I ordered an English breakfast."
"Of course not, I love tea. Anyways, Mr Dox, your playing style is quite robotic, mechanical if I say, how did you develop such a distinct style?"
"Music is mathematics. Music is made up of sound waves, I'm sure you've heard of it in high school physics. Each note has a different wavelength, held for different periods of time. When two or more notes are played at the same time, they are a different amount out of phase or in phase, a combination of sine and cosine curves, that creates assonance and dissonance, whether you hear the notes sounding pleasantly together or clashing. That has everything to do with the number 3/2, but I don't really know the details of harmonics. Beethoven is one of the masters of this, thus why I chose his piece. The frequency on the other hand is the characteristic of the instrument, different sound frequencies make a band or orchestra. Music is just mathematics. Mathematics mixed in with emotion, and imagination," Mr Dox explained.
Kara looked at him in awe, she had never thought about it that way. She knew both as separate concepts on their own, but had somehow never put the two and two together to make four. It was a brand new analogy that seemed to make sense, and somehow clicked as a reason why she was also good at math in school.
"Thank you, Mr Dox for your very refreshing idea," she replied, smiling, "now, I'd like to ask you why did you pick up the piano over other instruments in the first place?"
"My parents signed me up for classes as an afterschool activity initially. But one day, I was around eleven or twelve, there was a juniors piano competition in my hometown of Toronto. Many children of all ages played, and one of them stuck with me, a brilliant rendition of Liszt's Liebestraum No. 3. I mean, if someone my age could do it, I could be better. So I dove right into it. If I didn't forget that girl was called Kara Zor-El, from some small, insignificant European country, you remind me of her." He pointed a finger at her.
Kara was dumbfounded, indeed she had competed in the Canadian International Youth Piano Competition when she was ten. And indeed, she had played Liszt's Liebestraum. "Who is that?" she pretended to ask, feigning confusion.
"In fact, your name sounds so familiar, I am willing to assume that you are her!"
"Please, there's nothing in common."
"I'd recognise your eyes anywhere, the same bright azure, showing that you have many, many secrets. You are Kara Zor-El."
Looking around, she ripped off her glasses and slowly, she nodded, looking straight into his eyes, she replied, "You've got me, but please, don't tell anyone, keep it between the two of us, I'm trying to lay low."
"I have developed the capacity in my brain to stop access to certain memories. You can count on me to keep a secret."
Kara gave a sigh of relief, and after putting her glasses back on, continued asking the next few questions she had prepared, "Now, we might as well carry on."
"Oh yes, and maybe, you'll let a word or two slip about how you achieved your successes."
Kara raised her eyebrows, and deadpanned, "Just have a soldier or two armed with an AK-47 standing right outside ready to shoot you on the spot if you lose, it's very effective."
"I suppose it is."
A/N: Sorry for the shorter chapter, just wanted to get the interviews out of the way for what happens next. To know more about Arima Kousei, just go watch Your Lie in April, it's on Netflix. I hope you have enough tissues for all 22 episodes. Also, I blame Brainy's rant on mathematics and music on that lecture I attended on exactly that subject, if you hate maths, I apologise.