Title: The Serial: The Pianist
Blood Type: York Peppermint Patty
Disclaimer: I think it should be fairly obvious that I don't own Gravitation as I have minimal artistic skills.
Warnings: Swearing. Destruction of property.
Author's Notes: My apologies for the long hiatus. This chapter is dedicated to ashcat.
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Ukai Noriko's stocking was slipping. Granted, her hands hadn't been exactly steady this morning, but she should have been able to put on her stockings without having them slip off the garter clasps in the car on the way to N-G Studios. Sliding the hem of her vintage Chanel dress up over her thighs, Noriko secured her stocking.
It had been Ryuichi that had convinced her to buy the damnable thing; what use did she have for a garter belt?
--
"Nori-chaaan!" Ryuichi poked his head around a table and held up a sateen garter, embroidered with cherry blossoms. "What about this one? I like the pink flowers! It's good, ne, ne?"
"I don't think so. It's too old fashioned."
"Eh? Really?" Ryuichi peered closely at the garter belt. "But old things have a place too, nanoda!"
--
"Ukai-sama?"
"Dammit," Noriko whispered, swiping a tear away with her handkerchief.
"We have reached N-G Studios," the driver ventured.
"Yes." Noriko smoothed her dress and rearranged the veil on her hat.
--
"Ne, Ryu, what is this?" Noriko asked, poking the box on the green room table with her index finger.
"A hat, nanoda! A hat!" Ryuichi opened the box and took it out.
He was practically glowing over the thing. Noriko couldn't see why. The hat was an elaborate affair, the front being draped with a veil and one might say festooned with flowers.
"Yes, I can tell. But—" Noriko broke off as the hat was lovingly shoved into her hands.
"Happy birthday!"
--
"Yes, of course." It was time to go. The second her Gucci-clad foot hit the sidewalk, the photographers pressed in. When they saw her vintage cream-colored Chanel dress, the shouts started.
"Ukai-sama! Ukai-sama!" The reporters, photographers, everyone in Tokyo it seemed, had turned out in front of N-G to see how she would react.
"Ukai-sama! If I could have a word," a reporter with a tape recorder exclaimed, pushing forward and swiping curly black hair out of her eyes.
"You're Kazawa Akito," Noriko responded. Kazawa Akito had been at the restaurant. She had been all over the news, giving her first-hand account of what had happened. Noriko's fingers tightened around her vintage beaded handbag. "You can have two: fuck off."
"Ukai-sama, do you think—" Kazawa pressed on, shoving the tape recorder under Noriko's nose. She squealed as Noriko viciously snatched the recorder away.
"My husband has been detained for questioning with regard to the death of my friend and band mate," Noriko hissed, dropping the recorder to the ground before slamming her stiletto heel down on it. "So now you'll listen to me: get out of here. Stay away from me and my family."
--
"Cheers, Nori-chaaan!" Ryuichi cheered, raising his glass of beer.
"I don't think it's all that impressive," Noriko responded, swirling the ice in her glass.
"Naa it's the newest addition to the N-G family!"
"Family?"
"That's what we are! A family! Let's drink some sake to Saki!"
--
She had laughed that night. She had laughed until she cried.
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Author's Note The Second: White was the color of mourning before Japan adopted the custom of wearing black. Noriko wears white because Ryuichi had a fascination with older things.