I have a reason, as I always do, for my lovely absence. And it is that viola pieces are way too damn hard to find.

At any rate, I have finally stopped procrastinating and have gotten together all of the pieces I want the kids to play, as well as some more ideas for future Rhapsody happenings. The bad news is that school starts on Monday.

And I don't want to die yet. There's still so much to do.

/is shot

xxx

By the time Kyo had arrived from the restroom, Hayata had just emerged from the stage, having performed an effortless Verdi piece and earned a rather enthusiastic applause for himself; Hihara looked extremely pleased as well.

"This is going so well!" he mouthed over at Kyo, who gave him a weak thumbs-up before flopping into a chair and listening vaguely to the cello now issuing from the stage, soft and tentative but at the same time dynamic somehow, thinking about what he'd just heard.

So by the sound of the twins' conversation, Maru's speech to him the day before had not been her doing. So it was Keiichi's? But what could his motive have been? Perhaps it was to get back at him for interrupting his piece the day the concours had been announced--or maybe because he didn't like newcomers? Or...because he and Maru simply had done that to everyone, as some sick form of concours-hazing?

Kyo shook his head in disbelief. Just then, however, the crowd erupted into applause, and Shimizu reappeared backstage, looking frightened but extremely pleased with herself.

"Nice job," Kyo smiled encouragingly, patting her arm, and Shimizu blushed; Arita tackled her and hugged her tightly, squealing, "Ohmygodyouwereamazing!" at a frequency only dogs could hear and which made the others wince but smile nonetheless.

Suddenly, though, the voice on the loudspeaker crackled and continued once more, and all voices fell silent. "Next we have Tsukimori Maru from class 2-B, who will be performing Frederic Chopin's Etude No. 11 in A Minor."

Kyo whirled around just in time to see Maru stride onstage with the ease and effortless grace of a master. She gently lowered herself onto the seat--how it was possible to look professional simply by sitting on a chair, Kyo had no idea, but she managed quite well--rested her fingers silently on the keys, and began to play.

Kyo was surprised, at first--a single right hand melody in the stillness, soft as though part of the air, but much too simple. Before Kyo had time to ask about it, however, a new melody exploded from the piano like a gale of harsh wind, the right hand flying down the keys and the left pounding a mournful march that shook the foundations of the stage. Kyo could hear gasps from around him, and Hihara let out a low whistle; he simply stared on in utter disbelief.

"See, this is why we're all dead scared of them," Hayata muttered darkly to Kyo, who stood, paralyzed, his eyes fixed on the pianist. The piece was like a particularly fierce winter, like ice embodied in sound--Kyo remembered her frozen eyes and harsh words, each like a slap. It fits her.

A tremendous chromatic scale descending down the length of the keyboard, and a pause, the stillness tangible--pianissimo--a crescendo--and a new burst of sound that led with a jolt into the theme, overwhelming the room until the final scale, ascending the keys one by one at an impossible speed until the hands lifted, froze in midair, and fell slack by the sides of the piano bench.

The applause was deafening; even the judges were on their feet, clapping calmly, each of their faces shining with praise. Kyo finally was able to pry his hands apart--they'd been clenched nervously as he'd listened--and hazarded a look at her face.

Impassive. As usual.

No wonder everyone cowers in fear.

Kyo shook his head, stunned, as she returned, eyes glowing but the rest of her face completely unchanged. Her brother squeezed her arm--an apology?--and she smiled; it was not the Cheshire Cat grin he'd seen the day before, but a real smile.

Hihara strode over, bent, and murmured in her ear, and she nodded, her smile widening; he squeezed her in a one-armed hug, ruffled Keiichi's hair, and returned to the other side of the stage, where Kyo was sitting.

"We're kind of close," he explained quickly, catching side of Kyo's confused expression. "I know their mom really well, so I'm kind of--their fun uncle, or--"

"And finally, Tsukimori Keiichi from class 2-A, performing Antonio Bazzini's 'Dance of the Goblins'."

Kyo turned; Keiichi strode confidently onstage, cold eyes arrogantly sweeping the audience as though searching for people that looked hard to impress, then settled finally on the judges, eying them as though offering each a personal challenge. His mousy-haired and rather frightened-looking accompanist sat at the piano and looked tentatively up at him; he nodded ever so slightly, raised the violin to his shoulder and rested his chin into the wood, lifted the bow, and as the piano began a series of quick octaves, struck the first note.

Kyo's head spun; he'd had no idea a violin could work this quickly--Keiichi's fingers blurred on the neck of the instrument and his bow was moving so fast it seemed incredible that each note was discernible. The music plowed onward at a breakneck speed that seemed to catch the breath of everyone who listened and hold it just above their heads, just enough to tease, to exhilarate.

Keiichi's face was composed in a calm, almost blasé look of half-concentration, watching his own fingers yet at the same time raking the audience for reactions--and by the smugness in his eyes, so similar to his sisters', the audience did not disappoint. Kyo watched, his jaw hanging slack, and wondered vaguely why people like this had the right to be born.

Keiichi's eyes lit up as though reading Kyo's mind, and his smile was smug; the bow swept the strings in a forceful last chord before his fingers plucked a sharp snap of pizzicato, the piano hit a final note, and the crowd erupted into cheers. He dropped into the sweeping, fluid bow of a seasoned professional, and with a slight swagger, strode offstage, the petit accompanist hurrying in his wake.

He arrived backstage to a stunned silence; even Maru looked reasonably impressed. He looked around at each of them, then shrugged as though to say it was nothing. Kyo felt numb.

Hihara, on the other hand, was grinning hugely. "Perfect!" he laughed, clapping Keiichi on the shoulder, and Maru nodded serenely.

"It was good," she said vaguely, peering at him over the pages of her book, which she'd picked up after her return from the practice room and had resumed reading almost immediately. "Crisp. The trills were kind of sloppy sometimes, but other than that..."

Keiichi moaned dramatically and Maru sighed and rolled her eyes, smiling. Kyo was utterly perplexed. Hihara whistled loudly, and every head turned in his direction; out of the corner of Kyo's eye, Keiichi slipped through the door to the dressing rooms and vanished, and Maru watched him leave with a faint expression of uncertainty.

"So," Hihara stated loudly, the grin on his face so wide it was amazing his cheeks didn't hurt yet, "you guys are amazing!"

Everyone beamed.

"The results will be up in a couple minutes," Hihara continued, and at once everyone seemed to straighten slightly. "So greet your families and then go to Plum Café! And you better come," he warned, honey eyes dancing, "or I'll make it a grade next time--"

There was a chorus of mock-groans, and Kyo's eyes flicked towards the dressing room door; Maru was lingering with her hand on the doorknob, watching the crowd of performers with an expression close to longing. Without thinking, he joined her.

"Listen," he began, smiling hesitantly, and she looked taken aback by his sudden arrival. "I wanted to thank you for earlier--"

"Don't mention it," she replied quickly; he searched her face for any signs of humor in the statement, and the crease in her brow deepened. "I'm serious," she added bluntly at the look he gave her. "Don't. Especially not to Kei." She bit her lip a moment, glanced at her shoes, and mumbled, "You're welcome, though."

And she slipped through the door without another word.

Kyo shook his head in disbelief. Tsukimoris.

"Excuse me."

Kyo turned and suddenly felt as though all the air had left the room in a sudden whoosh. The man facing him was far too familiar--sky-blue hair and icy golden eyes and long, slender fingers that he knew must have been calloused...

"I need to get by," Tsukimori Len continued pointedly, his expression faintly disapproving, and Kyo resurfaced with a jolt, shaking his head quickly and turning beet red.

"Yes--s-sorry, Tsukimori-sama--"

"Len!"

Both turned to face a woman who was bounding eagerly up to them, her bullion eyes twinkling and scarlet hair bouncing cheerfully along with the rest of her person. "Quit moving so fast or I'll lose you," she chided, the effect softened slightly by her sunny grin. Then she noticed Kyo, and gasped so suddenly that Kyo half expected her to faint.

"Tsuchiura-kun!" she cried, her eyes lighting up like a child's on Christmas. "My God--of course it's you! I knew immediately, you know, the minute you walked onstage and--"

"Kaho," Len murmured quietly, looking slightly irritated for some reason, "we told the twins we'd meet them--"

"Oh, hold on a second," the red-haired woman pouted, and Len rolled his eyes, let out a miniscule but very annoyed sigh, and left for the dressing room himself. She shook her head and sighed good-naturedly.

"He just doesn't like to wait, it's nothing to do with you," she said kindly to Kyo. "But anyway--you were fantastic!" Kyo blushed faintly, slightly embarrassed, but she didn't notice; she continued, "The way your fingers move! And your emotion! It reminded me so much of..." She sighed a moment, as though caught up in remembrance, then grinned and held out her hand.

"Tsukimori Kahoko," she said earnestly, shaking his hand when he took hers. "Tell your dad I said hi." She winked and flounced out the door, and Kyo watched her leave, shaking his head in wonder.


Results of the first selection are as follows:

1. Tsukimori Maru - Etude No. 11 in A Minor "Winter Wind" by Frederic Chopin

2. Tsukimori Keiichi - Dance of the Goblins by Antonio Bazzini

3. Tsuchiura Kyo - Die Forelle by Franz Liszt

4. Hayata Toshiaki - La Donna e Mobile by Giuseppe Verdi

5. Arita Keiko - Sonata in D Major for Flute, Mov. 4 by Sergei Prokofiev

6. Shimizu Naomi - The Swan by Camille Saint-Saens

7. Hiro Koji - Sonata for Viola and Piano in E-Flat, Mov. 1 by Johannes Brahms

Kyo shook his head as Hayata's words from earlier in the competition rang in his head--"None of us are really going to get better than third place anyway..."

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Keiichi's eyes roved over the list and sparkled in satisfaction. Anger bubbled in Kyo's stomach like acid.

Wait, Tsukimori. Just wait.

xxx

Ooh, a rivalry already. How interesting.

Link time.

Winter Wind Etude: http: // www . youtube . com / watch?v=Hf4_kZHLeuo (This, I'm sorry, is the worst song to learn if you're kind of sucky at reading notes like myself.)

Dance of the Goblins: http: // www . youtube . com / watch?v=pR8ABKpwm7w

My shiny new LiveJournal: http: // talbot-stark . livejournal . com/ (Go there I write :D)

Reviewers get a place in my will, which should be finished by Monday.