Hi everyone! I know, it's been what… more than a year since I updated. And again, no promises that it would never happen again.
Some stop writing because they lose interest on the anime or pair. As for me, I would never lose interest In PoT. But putting this on hiatus did cross my mind.
I've always hated it when I find great fics but only to be deprived off of its ending. And I don't want to do anything I hate so I will see this through the end. Even if it takes me more years hahahahaha
So, again, I wrote what came to mind and I think it's too boring. I hope I get more creative juices on the following days…
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. Only the plot of this fic and the crappy sounding names of the cafes and restaurants. (and Hikari hahahaha)
It's currently four in the afternoon and I'm heading home early. Fuji mentioned that his sister will be returning late from work so I suggested that we just go to the restaurant together since it is quite far. I told him that I'll be fetching him at six o'clock.
Completely ignoring the radio, I again found myself lost in thought. I have always put pride in my ability to stay calm under any circumstance, partially thanks to my grandfather's obsession with tradition. When I faced my parents regarding my life decision and even when I submitted my compositions to different companies, I remained unshaken. But now, I am admittedly quite restless. The source? Uncharacteristically, I do not know.
I parked my car and made sure that the doors are locked. I entered the house in sync with the grumbling of my stomach. I went to the kitchen and decided to prepare myself a sandwich.
I took that time to think of possible reasons for my restlessness.
It might be due to the time of the year. The management did announce that they'll be starting their inspections and evaluations again. But it's not like I'm under any strict monitoring. Still, one should not be careless.
Maybe it's related to that talk with mother. She called two days ago reminding me of father's birthday celebration and insists firmly for my attendance. She also said that five years is enough time for my father to accept the path I decided to take. But it's not like father's acceptance ever concerned me.
I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and brought it to the table along with my ham and cheese sandwich. Sitting on the chair, I started eating my food.
If I'm the least bit honest, I would have already answered my question. I just can't accept how a boy could affect me this much. Of all the things I've learned about him, I can say that he's a very talented and strong person. He's gone through many hardships but could still smile so honestly. I am determined to help him in any ways possible but what if he doesn't want it? What if he's content with what he has right now? I guess, this is really is what's making me feel uneasy, the possibility of him saying no.
As I finished eating my food and washing the dishes, I wondered what kind of melody I'd want for that piece I wrote. Since it is a song full of emotions, it has to be flowing. As for the instrument, a piano is expected. But if what Fuji said is true, that only Echizen could make this song sound right, then I could use a guitar. Or someone could play the piano for him.
Realizing that I've been doing nothing but think for an hour, I decided to take a quick shower then go to the bookstore near Fuji's house and wait there. That is, if I finally make up my mind on what clothes to wear. Why am I even having a hard time? It doesn't matter what I wear as long as it's formal. After finally winning (and losing) a battle with myself, I left the house wearing a peach dress shirt, black slacks, and black leather shoes. I kept the first two buttons open and placed my black coat on the backseat before heading out with 30 minutes to spare.
I was welcomed with a bored sounding voice coming from the man by the counter who couldn't be younger than 50. The place isn't crowded, just enough to go by each aisle with little to no hassle. Scanning the new books section, I vaguely remember losing immediate interest after seeing an auto-biography of the most self-centered writer of all time. I wouldn't dare touch it.
After aimlessly looking at some books and their synopsis and reviews, I heard my phone ring and so did the high school-looking boy arranging the books beside me, if the stare was any indication. Noting that it's five minutes to six o'clock, I proceeded on checking my mail. Slipping my phone back in my pocket, I made my way to Fuji's. His clothes look similar to mine minus the color of the dress shirt for he settled with a dark-colored one and the coat which is white. After exchanging greetings with his mother, we left immediately.
"So, how's the song?" Fuji asked after silence enveloped us upon leaving their house. I cannot tell him about what I thought a while ago.
"It's going okay." I halfheartedly replied.
"I hope it shows Echizen's singing prowess. But, knowing you, you've already considered that." He said with a smile towards the end.
"Well, have you ever considered him not going with the plan?" I don't know where his confidence is coming from because the way Fuji's younger brother informed us was already secretive. How do we even know that he'll take us seriously?
"Knowing you," I felt his gaze towards me, "I feel like you would do anything to get a contract with him."
"Wouldn't you?" I shortly replied.
"Saa. What accompaniment are you planning on using?" Ignoring how he, without a care, changed the subject, I simply replied, "piano or guitar."
"I see your dilemma. Piano is the best choice but if it's to showcase his talent, a guitar accompaniment could be permissible." I remained silent because I dislike how he was able to understand my situation almost instantly.
"You could always have someone play it instead. But of course even that has a downside, level of passion. If the accompaniment cannot express the same amount of emotion, it will eventually sound a bit off." I've also thought about that a while ago. One of the biggest factors when it comes to the future of a song is how it catches attention. This may be in a lot of forms but commonly based on the "feel" or "beat". And, usually, instrumentals come first and this is when the audience will decide whether to continue or not.
"Or, you could always ask Atobe. If passion's the talk, that guy would be willing to compete." Ignoring how disturbed that statement made me feel, I turned on the radio and fell back into silence. Only this time, the occasional static could be heard.
Thank you for reading! R&R!
I did not proofread this so, sorry for incoherent sentences huhuhuhu