Chapter Seven - The Toilet

Hino Kahoko looked up from her book and was startled to see that the colourless sky was suddenly soft with graceful domes of drifting pink clouds laced with threads of fading gold. She switched off the lamp and watched the slow darkness descend outside the window. As she watched, she heard soft steps behind her, and she turned to watch Hihara perch himself on the window sill.

"Kaho-chan."

"Hihara-senpai."

Together, in the fading light that brushed their faces with soft-toned shadows, they watched the pink-gold sunset reluctantly surrender to the darkness. Kahoko snapped out of her reverie and turned to the trumpet-player, whose broad smile showed he had better news than announcing dinner.

"Hihara-senpai?" she asked. "What makes you so cheerful tonight?"

"It shows, huh?"

"It's your good spirits that amaze me. So, what did I miss?"

"I got an early acceptance letter from Seiso University."

"Really? Thank goodness!" exclaimed Kahoko as she sat down the ledge beside him, "I know you really wanted it! That's really great, senpai! Congratulations!"

Like a small boy overwhelmed with the enormity of his good fortune, he pulled her to her feet and whirled her around the room in a dance of unrestrained joy. Kahoko couldn't help it and started laughing herself, the stiff white letter of acceptance clenched in his teeth. The housekeeper's cat that had been sleeping on nearby couch mewed in righteous protest at the noise; it scampered away and slunk in a circle and the dance was ended.

Hihara's expression was easy to read, almost naked as he looked out of the window. The feeling she saw there brought a lump to her throat. The wind whisked her hair back in her face. Casually, he reached out and captured a handful of her wind-tossed hair. His knuckles brushed her cheek as he pushed the hair away from her face.

"Coming from you, Kaho-chan, that means a great deal to me. I really appreciate it."

Ever so slowly, he raised his hands and placed them on either side of her face. His fingers stayed still for a few seconds, and then he tilted her back until her eyes were looking straight into his.

She thought for a moment he was going to say something, but then the patio door opened and Tsuchiura walked in on them leaning against the window, Hihara's hands still on her face. Kahoko's heart hammered on her chest so loudly it made her ears ring. She was sure that Tsuchiura-kun could hear its pounding.

The pianist froze and his eyes travelled slowly from Hihara's hands on her face, his gaze locking on hers from across the room. They stayed that way for a moment, Kahoko almost dizzy. Finally, she gasped and pulled back, some shred of common sense finally awakening inside her.

"K-Kaho-chan," Hihara blurted, suddenly unsure of where to place his hands. "This—this isn't what I—I'm sorry—I—Tsuchiura—it's not what it looks like—"

She felt like she ought to say something, but she didn't—she couldn't. Tsuchiura's eyes darkened to the colour of the night in an instant. His hands clenched into fists and his jaw tightened as she watched.

He walked away without another word, leaving them both in the darkened room alone.

For a moment, she stood as frozen as an ice statue at a winter carnival. Hihara moved away from the window, giving her a clear path out of the living room.

"I'm sorry, Kaho-chan."

Kahoko smiled despite the turmoil in and all around her. His hair was down and almost about his shoulders, softening the angles of his face. She could see that he was truly sorry.

"It's alright, Hihara-senpai. You didn't do anything wrong." She inhaled deeply. "Why don't we go visit the kitchen, fortify ourselves with tea and sweets? Hey, we still have your acceptance to celebrate for!"

"Alright then!"

As Hihara followed her out of the living room, Kahoko forced the image of the pianist's hands out of her head, the look of hurt in his eyes out of her heart.

Tsukimori Len awoke several hours later with an unease that was close to panic. His heart raced like it did when he had a nightmare. It took him a minute to figure out the cause.

It was Hino. The full meaning of this hadn't sunk in until he was asleep and dreaming.

He stood there, frozen, and for a moment he was so sure that Hihara-senpai was going to kiss her, and then his shifted and so did his expression and a tingle started somewhere in the vicinity of his gut and moved upwards. He had difficulty repressing the strong urge to strike him.

Len picked up the sheet of paper in his desk and tried to concentrate on the training camp's theme. But the paper shook so hard the words on the page swam in front of his eyes like shivering notes, and so he sighed.

And her eyes—in her eyes he saw his future stretching out before him, like some brilliant, golden pathway. But then in the next second it was gone—a mere trick of the eyes.

The thought gave Len a pang in the region of his heart, and he ignored it the same way he'd always ignored everything which were not part of his routine. He lowered himself back down to the bed and ran a weary hand over his eyes.

Things were so much worse than he'd thought.

Kahoko's window looked down over sweeping gardens towards a large lake. The colours of the trees were reflected in the smooth water in a myriad of gold and russet tones. As the sun rose higher the colours changed from muted shades to vibrant tones. For a moment her thoughts were distracted by such beauty, and then with a sigh she turned to have a shower.

She felt a lot better than that, and, dressed in jeans and a cashmere sweater, she crept out into the hall and continued on downstairs to make herself a cup of tea.

As she stood waiting for it to boil, the sound of splitting wood outside the house made her look up. She crossed to the back door and stepped out into the wooden veranda.

The air was cool and fresh, with last traces of an early morning mist. The lawn at the back of the house sloped gently towards the edge of the trees, and she was surprised to see Tsukimori outside, dressed in jeans and a blue shirt, chopping wood with an axe, his strokes swift and sure.

He didn't see her at first. It wasn't until Maehara-san's dog who sat beside him turned and ran towards her that he put the axe down and looked over his shoulder.

"Good morning, Hino," he said, his eyes sweeping over her. "I didn't expect to see you up so early."

"Good morning, Tsukimori-kun," she replied. "I wanted to start practicing earlier than usual today. I didn't think you knew how to wield an axe, even."

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," he answered as he gathered up the pile of wood and turned to look at her. "I'm just helping Kimiko-san here. What are you doing out here, by the way?"

"I prepared some tea, would you like some?"

He flicked her a glance. "I was hoping you could make more than that. I'm starving."

"Oh," she replied, surprised by his words. "Well, if it's not intruding on Kimiko-san's domain..."

She stopped short when she caught the scent of freshly baked bread. She sniffed appreciatively.

"Well, it would seem that someone's ahead of you there," he said as he entered the back door. "Where do you want me to put these, Kimiko-san?"

The elder woman nodded towards the big hod that stood in a corner of the open hearth. "You can drop them in there."

"It's gone warmer outside," he said as he dropped his armful into the hod with a rumble and bent to pick up one or two stray logs that had escaped on to the floor. He turned his back to the hearth and spread his hands out behind him to the quick flare of the flame.

Kimiko-san knelt to the oven to remove a tray of golden-looking mince pies. "I'll test it for you," he offered with a wistful look in the direction of the tray. Kimiko-san's lips twitched. 'Tsukimori-kun could take liberties with her that few would have dared,' thought Kahoko admiringly.

"Mind the pie, they'll be hot," warned Kimiko-san as she eased one out with the end of a knife and handed it across to him. "And don't drop crumbs on my clean floor," she added with a return to her usual asperity.

Kahoko's eyes glinted at the momentary look of doubt that passed over his face, and his own met hers with a twinkle of fun as he hastily accepted the plate the housekeeper slid in his direction.

With scrupulous fairness, the housekeeper handed Kahoko one from the fresh batch.

"Make a cup of coffee or tea and you'll do until lunch time. I'll go sweep the stairs."

Having warmed the pot, Kahoko threw out the water before carefully measuring in tea leaves over which she poured more boiling water. She put a cosy around the pot and, leaving the tea to brew, took out cups, saucers, a teaspoon and a jug into which she poured milk.

"Milk or lemon?" she asked.

"Milk, please."

Kahoko poured tea over a careful measure of milk. She leaned across the table and handed him a cup of the steaming brew. Then she prepared a cup of tea for herself, pausing to add a healthy splash of milk and two sugars before taking a careful sip.

"Do you happen to have some spare time today, Tsukimori-kun?"

He sat his drink upon the table. Kahoko recoiled.

"Why?"

She looked at her hands and twiddled her thumbs. "I was wondering if I could borrow your copy of Schubert's sonata. I think it's called opus 137. Also...I need your input about this piece I'm working on. But if it's too much trouble, I understand."

His hands clenched into fists on the armrests of his seat, and she could sense his internal struggle as he forced himself to relax. She turned to look at her, his voice a bit rougher as he said, "Meet me at the practice room in thirty minutes."

"Alright!" Kahoko punched the air in triumph. "I'm just gonna go rinse these cups, and then I'll head straight to the practice room!" She raised her arms, bowed slightly and clapped them above her head. "Thank you so much!"

Some of his tension eased, and the corner of his mouth twitched, as if he was fighting back a smile. He stood up and carried his cup over to the sink but before he could rinse it she whisked it out of his hands.

"I'll take care of it," she said brightly. "I'll see you later then!"

He inclined his head in acknowledgment and walked out of the kitchen.

Tsuchiura Ryoutarou slammed his palm against the banister and mentally berated himself for his response to Hino's request. But then she was looking at him with large, expectant eyes, and in some small ways, she reminded him of his sister. And he could never say no to Narita when she had that pleading look in her eyes.

'Damn.'

Double practice! How in the world would he be able to help her practice? He knew as much violin as he knew how to read ancient runes.

He approached the door to the room Tsukimori shared with Shimizu. He hated asking anyone for a favor, but he was going to get some help.

He raised a hand against the door but before he could knock, the door opened, revealing a dark-green haired boy. Tsukimori. He would never, ever get used to the thought of looking himself in the eye.

Tsukimori regarded him with watchful eyes.

"What is it you want?" he asked finally. He knew, by the tone of his voice, patronizing and contemptuous, that he sensed Ryou was about to ask him for something and was determined to turn him down.

"I need to borrow a sheet music."

"Sheet music?" Tsukimori asked irritably. "I'm not a music store."

Ryou bristled visibly. "I need a copy of Schubert's sonatas for the violin. Perhaps you could lend me Opus 137."

"And why would I do that?"

Ryou wished he could create a scene and punch the stupid violinist in the face. Or he could just forget about the whole thing and refuse to carry the conversation further. Still, he never took his eyes from Tsukimori and gazed back in determination, refusing to be stared down.

"If it embarrasses you, then I won't pursue it," he said, dismissively.

"It doesn't embarrass me," Ryou blurted out, instinctively.

"What doesn't?"

'Can't stop now. The idiot expects an answer.'

"Hino asked if I could help her out with practice. And she needed a copy of that Schubert sonata. I already searched the library but I couldn't find a copy of that opus. I figured maybe you have it."

"And what makes you think you have the aptitude to help her out?"

"I don't care what you think, okay? Just hand it over."

"No."

"What? You can't do that. Come on, I'll just hand her the scores, then I'll try to worm out of the practice later."

"I won't suffer for your stupid blunder. You might as well think of a way to worm out of it now. I don't have any time for this nonsense. Get out of my way."

Ryou glared at Tsukimori. The sight of him with his arms folded across his chest made his blood boil, and he fought the urge to hit him.

"Tsukimori. She needs that piece."

"I don't see where that concerns me."

"You really are rude. I hope you know that."

"I am not rude, you're just plain insignificant. Step aside."

Ryou gritted his teeth as he watched Tsukimori walk down the hall. He found himself walking back to the room he shared with Yunoki and rummaged through the mountain of his own scores.

He smiled as he caught sight of Hino on one of the practice rooms. He knocked to let her know he was there and let himself in.

"Tsukimori-kun! I thought you'd changed your mind."

"I'm here."

"Clearly," she chuckled nervously. "Where do we start?"

He reached out and placed something on her hands. She looked up.

"What's this, Tsukimori-kun?" she squinted at the label. "Antonin Dvorak. Romance for piano and violin. Opus 11."

"Well for the better part of this month you've been hell-bent on playing Schubert. I figured you could try another composer this time." He paused and gestured to the scenery outside the window, and both of them stared for a while, marvelling at the show of nature.

"Dvorak," he continued, "was a lover of nature. He composed one of his operas by a small lake next to a forest meadow at his beloved summer retreat. I was hoping you would be inspired to play his music now that you are surrounded by the scenery that inspired him to write it."

She looked up at him, a look of gentle thankfulness in her eyes. He had not noticed fully how wonderfully golden her eyes were until now, and how soft and tender they were when free of the excitement or fear or mental strain. There was something of wistfulness, of thought for him, in her eyes now, and then she smiled.

"Thank you so much, Tsukimori-kun. You didn't have to help me, but you did anyway. The gratitude I feel...I cannot say enough."

"Do not thank me until you've learned the piece by heart," he said. "Then you can play it for all of us and then you can thank me."

She turned the pages of Dvorak's sheet music, her eyes scanning it hungrily, her fingers tapping a rhythm against the pages.

"Oh, so we're sight reading now?" he teased. "Pay attention to patterns. If you recognize them ahead of time, the notes will be much easier to sight read. Just follow the structure."

"I'm not very good at it, though,' she said thoughtfully. "Now I know why you are always scrutinizing your sheet music, Tsukimori-kun! You were studying the road map!"

Ryou looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. "Liszt was a brilliant composer and could almost always improvise an original composition from a melody suggested by an audience member. But while he was one of a kind, he wasn't born a great sight reader."

"Truly?"

"Yeah. So don't fret too much. It would help if you could listen to that CD. That piece is included on the track listing."

"Really, thank you, Tsukimori-kun..."

He made his way to the upright piano. He sat down on the bench and raised the lid from the keys.

"You said you've been practicing a piece. Who's it by?"

"Brahms. I'm working on his violin sonata No. 2 in A major, Opus 100." She handed him a copy of the sheet music.

Ryou knew her arrangement—it was all she's ever played during the camp. "I'll do your accompaniment."

"Do you know this piece, Tsukimori-kun?" She couldn't hide the surprise in her voice. Nevertheless, she picked up her violin, tucked it under her chin and grabbed the bow. "Alright, let's do this! In three, two, one—"

He played soft and low, every note coming from his mind, rifting in the middle of the song, giving it tenderness. Shortly her violin joined his piano, and with Ryou acutely attuned to her feelings they seemed almost one. Her violin was the instrument of a woman who felt music in her heart, and it returned the melody and the harmony in a fashion not all unworthy of Brahms' conception.

It was, he realized with sickening clarity, the beginning of the end for him.

He lost himself in her music, and what a wonderful communicator she was. He could watch her bowing arm all day. It was the mark of her sound.

The piece was simple, but it held a beauty that left him completely overcome. The notes continued to sweep along, like a stream that had captured him and had no intention of letting him go. Her music drew him in, wrapped him in an intimate embrace, warmed him and soothed him. He never wanted it to end.

And when it did, he bowed his head.

He had fallen in love with her.

"How was practice, Kaho-chan?" Hihara asked over a steaming bowl of imoni, a thick taro potato stew.

"Ah—glad you asked, senpai!" said Kahoko cheerfully. "Tsukimori-kun was such a great help. He had pinpointed my weak points. He's right—my posture's just awful."

Tsuchiura snorted.

"Pig," muttered Tsukimori.

"Whoa, you aren't gonna snap at him, Tsuchiura?" asked Kanazawa-sensei, apparently in the mood to witness another fight. "C'mon guys, we need some form of entertainment here! Let the battle of wits commence!"

Tsuchiura shrugged. "I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person."

"Gyahahaha!"

"Talk is cheap, but that's alright, so are you," snapped the violinist.

Kahoko shook her head. 'Those two really don't get along well with each other...'

"I will defend, to your death, my right to my opinion."

"Shut up."

"Ahem, I'm gonna go out for a while," interjected Kanazawa-sensei. He stood up, stretched his arms and then turned on his heel.

"Where are you going, Kanayan?"

"Toilet. Do you want to come with?"

Hihara-senpai made a face. "Gross!"

Kahoko settled down at the living room after the meal, with Fuyuumi-chan and Hihara-senpai on either side of her. They were all frozen to the bone, and the steady glow from the scented apple logs penetrated her numbed limbs as even a hot shower wouldn't have been able to. She felt herself relax, and with the ease of tension from the cold, drowsiness began to claim her that even the coffee did little to dissipate.

Replete with Kimiko-san's cooking, she laid back in a wing chair, her hair bright against the light hide. One by one, her friends headed for their own rooms, until Kahoko was the only one left on the living room.

Against herself, she fell asleep. She was roused from her slumber as she felt strong hands carry her up the stairs and turn her over onto her back as they gently set her down the bed. She opened her eyes sleepily. A hazy blur of green crossed her sight, and Kahoko drifted back to sleep.