Angels in the Architecture
Part 2: Molto Ritmico
Chapter 8: Sunrise Festival
Kumiko slouched dejectedly in front of her bedroom mirror, facing at her moonlit reflection. Tired amber eyes stared back at her. Get it together, she reminded herself. Focus, Kumiko...
But no matter how seriously she concentrated and drew her powers inward, she couldn't manage more than a few flickers of unsteady invisibility. Her shadowy form always reappeared in the mirror within a blink or two. Somehow she just couldn't create any kind of seamless invisibility over herself, but she knew it was possible. Visibility is just the reflection of electromagnetic radiation back to the visible eye, Kumiko had learned in physics (the one day she'd paid attention in class). If she could create spheres of light and cook eggs in her bare hands, then theoretically she could control how light was reflected off of herself.
Except this wasn't just theoretical. She'd already done it without knowing it, and it had saved her life in the forest.
In the mirror, Kumiko reached up and touched the small scar on her cheek. It was a reminder that the events from that night were real. She'd told everyone that she'd accidentally cut herself while trying to peel an apple with a knife- a story that had actually happened before. And thanks to her renowned reputation as a klutz, everyone believed her.
Nearly everyone. Kousaka-san- Reina- didn't buy it as quickly.
"You're lying," Reina had accused. "I know it."
"It was really an accident. I'm just like that sometimes."
"I don't believe you."
Then Kumiko had gone for the low blow.
"You're one to talk," she'd said, motioning at Reina's fingers, two of which were bandaged. Then she quickly looked away, ashamed. "You're- you're the one who keeps saying you get into accidents."
It had been enough to make Reina clam up and turn on her heels. Kumiko felt awful, but it was all for the better. If Reina found out... if anyone discovered the truth... they would all be in danger. With a shudder, Kumiko remembered the men chasing her with flashlights. Those men... if they found Reina because of Kumiko...
No. Kumiko had kept this secret for nearly three years, avoiding intimate relationships and politely maintaining an indifferent attitude before any kindly acquiantance who came too close to being a real "friend". She would force herself to stay just as distant now, even with someone like Kousaka Reina who needed the support of friendship from Kumiko.
That said, it was disconcerting that Reina had been the only one Kumiko couldn't convince of her lie. Not even her dad had suspected differently. For someone who was terrible at deceit, Reina saw through Kumiko's lies with suspicious swiftness, perhaps because she was accustomed to hiding injuries herself. All of this was just further proof in Kumiko's mind that Reina's stepfather wasn't the kindly priest that Kumiko's dad liked to think he was.
Maybe I can go see for myself, she thought, staring at her unsure reflection. Maybe if she learned to control her invisibiltiy, she could look up Reina's home address and fly there- then she would know the truth of Reina's situation firsthand. But this was all dependent on whether or not she had the discipline to master her powers.
Kumiko lifted her amber eyes to her reflection, more resolutely than ever tonight, and concentrated on slipping into invisibility.
Reina was absent at SunFes.
The band was in hysterics. A student missing any kind of performance for any reason outside of sudden death or was unheard of, not to mention one as important as SunFes- because even a single no-show could spell disaster.
The trumpet section was especially terrified. Without Reina's presence, Kaori-senpai would be the only trumpet playing lead part for the entire duration of the lengthy outdoor performance, meaning that her risk of cracking high notes in the second half of the show was extremely high. And additionally they now had to patch up a gaping hole in the trumpet formation.
"Fake it," hissed Yuuko-senpai, shoving a spare trumpet into the hands of a bewildered colorguard girl who was snatched from the back of Kitauji's marching block. "Just hold it up and march in line with the rest of us."
"We're really sorry," pleaded Kaori-senpai. "But someone needs to fill the empty spot."
But the trumpets' improvised solution wasn't enough to cover the damage. As they marched and performed, Kumiko heard muttering from the unfortunately astute audience- "Why isn't that girl playing her instrument?" "Look, someone over there's faking it!" "What's wrong with Kitauji's trumpets this year?"
Then, halfway into the performance, Kaori-senpai's chops began to fail. Her lead trumpet voicing started hiccuping with occasional cracks in the higher registers, some of which were so noticeable that Kumiko's winced internally as she played. But as a fellow brass player, she couldn't blame Kaori. Once a trumpet player's lips had worn out, there was no hope of recovery for next few hours. No amount of determination or effort would help. And without Reina, there was no one to take over and let Kaori catch a break.
Kumiko flushed slightly red at the insulting whispers when Kaori-senpai cracked another partial, but kept her focus on the music as she played from muscle memory.
At the front of the band, conducting with her drum major's baton, Asuka-senpai stared straight ahead with cold steely eyes.
The Monday after SunFes was a mess. Because the image of the entire band had been affected, the hate for Kousaka Reina had already spread beyond the brass to the woodwinds- particularly starting from the sharp-tongued flutes. Even the percussion section, which was usually pretty detached from wind drama, knew Kousaka's name. People gossiped about Reina at every free moment; before rehearsal during chair setup, sitting in their chairs waiting for Asuka-senpai to warm up the band, and trading whispers between arpeggio exercises.
The noise only fully settled down when Hashimoto-sensei took over the podium and began distributing packets of paper for the section leaders to hand out.
"Congratulations on an excellent SunFes performance," began Hashimoto-sensei. "Remember- a band is not judged by the strengths or faults of any individual player. What's more important our ability to work together, adjust, and recover as a group in any circumstance. Please feel proud of yourselves for how flexible you were with the outdoor tuning process, and how you were able to play in tune and match principals without being in a semicircle."
Meanwhile, the section leaders returned to their seats to hand out the new papers. Kumiko thanked Asuka-senpai as she and Natsuki-senpai received their packets- which turned out to be sheet music.
"Now," said Hashimoto-sensei, "I know we just finished one performance, but it's not the time to rest on our laurels. Today we're going to talk about how we are planning to slaughter our way to gold at Nationals this fall."
Kumiko looked down at her packet. One of the pieces was titled Required Piece No. 3, which appeared to just be the annual AJBA competition piece. She flipped over to the next piece- and her eyes widened. The music looked extremely difficult and was penned by Phillip Sparke, the same composer of Kumiko's favorite euphonium concerto. This wind composition of his must be Kitauji's free choice piece this year.
The title read "Dance Movements - Movement 4: Molto Ritmico."
The rest of the band stirred anew with nervousness and excitement as they began discussing the new music. Kumiko was grateful for the change in topic. She was getting sick of hearing all the trash talk about Reina from judgmental people who just last week didn't even know she existed.
Hashimoto briefed the band on the procedures for the second round of auditions to take place before the first trimester's final exams, explaining that only 55 players out of the band's total 116 members would be selected for the competitive A-band. Everyone else would play in the B-band, for non-competitive ratings without awards.
"Your auditions will again consist of excerpts," said Hashimoto-sensei, "but this time exclusively from our pieces. Please remember that while technical skill is more highly valued on this audition, your ability to play as a team member will be just as important as before. An ideal player will show up with both qualities."
55 out of 116, thought Kumiko nervously. Crap, that was more than half the band. She had to beat Natsuki-senpai in their three-member euphonium section if she wanted to go to Nationals- and if she wanted to continue attending the same rehearsals as Reina, who would undoubtedly make the A-Band despite her absence last Saturday.
Failing to win this audition, Kumiko realized, meant that she might lose her chance to progress her friendship with Reina any further.
This time, she knew she was ready. Kumiko had learned a lot over the past month while playing under Hashimoto-sensei's baton and from Reina's friendlier tutelage. For this audition, she wouldn't just practice hard- she'd also work smarter.
Hashimoto-sensei's voice interrupted her chain of thought. The band director lifted his baton as he called, "Instruments up, please. We're going to sightread this piece today to give you an idea of how your excerpts fit into the greater picture. Can anyone tell me what we call this?"
Kumiko looked hesitantly toward Reina, who normally answered questions in rehearsal whenever she could. But Reina wasn't even looking at Hashimoto-sensei. Instead the normally bold trumpet player stared at her lap, clutching her instrument and unopened packet of sheet music.
Someone else jumped to answer Hashimoto-sensei's question. "It's called getting the macro!" said a clarinet player enthusiastically.
"Correct! And what do we call it when we work on technical details in our own parts to match the macro?"
"Getting the micro!"
"Nicely answered, Toroizuka-san!" said Hashimoto-sensei, beaming through his glasses. "Come get a cookie in my office after rehearsal. Now, from the top! Molto Ritmico means 'very rhythmically,' so if you'll pardon the pun- take note!"
The band groaned at the egregious joke, while Hashimoto-sensei chuckled to himself.
He raised his baton, and then they were off on their path to Nationals.
At the end of rehearsal, Kumiko saw Reina hastily pack up her trumpet with uncharacteristic sloppiness. She hurried out of the bustling band room while everyone else began cleaning up chairs and stands.
Kumiko abandoned her euphonium, deciding to pack it up later. She picked up her music stand and chair and cut through the crowd near the clustered trumpet section under the guise of being en route to the storage room. As she neared the gossip, she gradually learned that the subjects under discussion were Reina and Kaori-senpai, who wasn't present. Apparently the senior section leader had fled as quickly as Reina had.
"Kaori literally shouldn't be blaming herself," one of the trumpets was saying. "We don't blame her. Chops are chops and she couldn't have held out any longer."
"It's all that bitch's fault," another trumpet concluded, and the rest of them nodded silently but vigorously.
Then Hashimoto-sensei passed by on his way to speak to the percussion section, and all the trumpets lowered their voices.
"If she hadn't flaked out on Kaori-senpai..."
"I don't know why Hashimoto-sensei even made her principal..."
"We should talk to Hashimoto-sensei after auditions this time," said one of them, whom Kumiko recognized as Yuuko-senpai, by her yellow hair bow. "I'm sick of Kousaka being a huge bitch and thinking she's too good to show up for rehearsals just because she's principal-"
JUST SHUT UP IF YOU DONT KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HER!" raged Kumiko mentally, her hands curling into fists- and then she saw that the trumpets had gone silent and were staring at her in disbelief. Hashimoto-sensei was also watching her with a look of confusion.
To her horror, she realized that she'd accidentally yelled that out loud.
Stumbling back from the furious upperclassmen, Kumiko swallowed, turning pale.
"S-sorry," she stammered lamely- then turned tail. Her face flushed pink and her brown hair bounced stupidly as she dashed frantically toward the door. It was a ridiculous follow-up to what must've been a dramatically bold defense of her friend, but Kumiko just wanted to escape at this point and go hide somewhere in horror.
Unbeknownst to Kumiko and the trumpet section, Hashimoto-sensei watched as his first-year student sprinted from the room.
Everyone else glared after Kumiko. But on the band director's face was a slightly proud smile.
The bathroom, thought Kumiko. That was a good place to escape to. After all, everyone else was occupied with packing up, so no one would be here for a while.
But when she neared the entrance and cracked the door ajar, she heard small sobs echoing off the tiled walls.
Evidently Kumiko wasn't alone in thinking the bathroom was a suitable hiding spot. Catching her breath, she considered leaving to find somewhere else. But after a moment's thought she decided to stay, because those sobs sounded familiar...
Kumiko silently pulled the door open, bracing herself for whatever was on the other side. She tiptoed cautiously into the bathroom and peeked around the corner.
Sitting against the wall on the tiled floor was Reina, crying quietly into her knees.
"Reina?"
Reina didn't lift her head. Her face was buried in her raven-black hair. But she muttered, "There's nothing I'm good at."
Those strange words were so shocking to Kumiko that she could only stare in disbelief. She'd been expecting harsh words about Yuuko-senpai, or the trumpet section, or the band in general. But... the youngest principal trumpet at Kitauji in a decade, claiming there was nothing she was good at?
Eventually, Kumiko managed to croak out uselessly, "W-what?"
Reina's head whipped up and her purple eyes flashed as she glared at the wall dead ahead.
"THERE'S NOTHING I'M GOOD AT!" she screamed, her torn voice reverberating through the bathroom.
It was so similar to that day at Prefecturals last year, and yet so different. Reina wasn't seething at the perceived incompetence of the world around her like before; now, her anger was self-directed. And this time Kumiko felt no fear as she edged her way next to Reina, who wiped her eyes with a brown sleeve and brushed aside a lock of hair.
Kumiko smiled quietly as she sank down on the floor beside her distraught friend.
"If even Kousaka Reina says that," she mused, "then I must be utter trash. Guess I'll head to the dumpster now."
Reina looked at her with watery eyes before turning her gaze back to the floor.
"Of course you'd say something like that," she said. "But I'm never good enough here and I'm never good enough at home and nothing I do is right. It's like... I'm always wrong, no matter what I do. And I'll never be happy."
But you're principal, Kumiko nearly blurted out. You were valedictorian, and you're the honors class rep, and you're beautiful and amazing and you have perfect boobs and perfect hair and you're brilliant at everything you do. You're everything I want to be; I want to be as amazing as you. Yet she knew that none of those surface-level things were what Reina was talking about, so she kept quiet and tried to understand what Reina meant.
Especially the part about "at home." Kumiko found that sort of disturbing.
Reina glanced at Kumiko with a small smile, and murmured, "Only a terrible human like you would have zero comforting words after I told you that."
"I- wait, no," Kumiko stuttered. "I was just-"
"You know, I wish I could just... tell you everything," said Reina, her fingers tugging at the hem of her skirt. "You're different from the others. I know you're special."
"Then tell me," Kumiko jumped in. "Just tell me. I... I promise I'll do anything to help."
To her dismay, Reina bit her lip and turned away. "But you're not special enough," she muttered. "Sorry."
Kumiko would be lying if she said she weren't slightly hurt by the blunt dismissal. It was a stinging remark that would probably reemerge to gnaw at her when she was alone with her thoughts. But at the moment, her insatiable curiosity and concern for Reina were more important, and so she pressed on for answers.
"Reina," she pleaded, "I really just want to help. What happened last Saturday?"
Reina hesitated, and opened her mouth to answer- but then the door swung open.
Both girls flinched and looked up when Asuka-senpai stepped in with a smile, but the eyes behind her red-rimmed glasses were cold and austere. Her sweeping gaze landed on Kumiko.
"There you are," said Asuka-senpai, her voice misleadingly jolly as she kept the door propped open with one arm. "Oumae-san and Kousaka-san, your instruments and music folders are still out there. Don't make me clean up after you two!"
Kumiko sprung to her feet in terror.
"H- hai! she yelled, bowing deeply and sloppily. "S- so sorry!"
Next to her, Reina stood up and offered a curt little bow. Her expression was defiant, though her gaze was fixed on the floor.
"Excuse me," said the trumpet player. Then she strode quickly past the drum major, who kept holding the door open, but eyed Reina all the way out of the bathroom.
"Wait!" cried Kumiko as Reina's shorter form disappeared around the entrance into the hallway. "Reina- wait up-"
She started after her friend, only to be blocked by Asuka's firm hand on her shoulder. Kumiko looked up.
All lingering pretenses of a smile had vanished from Asuka's face.
"Oumae-san."
Kumiko swallowed.
"Yes?"
Asuka adjusted her red glasses as she let the door swing shut behind them.
"We need to talk," said her section leader. "You're a member of our bass section now, and I hope you remember that."
Slightly confused, Kumiko nodded. "I do."
"Good," said Asuka. "Then as a section member, your actions will be traced back to all of us. That includes who you associate with. And if I were you, I'd start thinking a little harder about who to spend time with."
Kumiko's eyes widened.
"You- you're telling me to stay away from Kousaka-san?"
"I'm saying," said Asuka, "that I don't think her situation is going to get any better, and people are going to turn on her more and more. Now I know you ended up on last chair," she added, "but it was a close call. Between you and Natsuki I think you have the better shot at making the A-band. So, if you care at all about your future in this band, you might start thinking about which side you want to be on."
Kumiko understood where this was going. Unable to help herself, she grit her teeth and lashed out, "How could you say that?"
Asuka narrowed her eyes.
"Man, that was supposed to be good news for you," she said. "Didn't you hear what I said about the A-band?
"What does that have to do with anything?" spat Kumiko, completely forgetting who she was talking to. "Reina's my friend!"
"Oh?" said Asuka. "She's your friend now? Just a few weeks ago I heard you were terrified of her."
"She's my friend," Kumiko affirmed, both to Asuka and to herself, "and I think Hashimoto-sensei won't care about stuff like that on the audition."
Asuka cocked an eyebrow. "That's only the first reason," she added. "The other thing is that I'm getting bad vibes about Kousaka. Something about that girl is off."
This gave Kumiko some pause.
"What do you mean?"
"She feels dangerous," Asuka said. "I don't know why, but you should stay away from her, Oumae-san."
Kumiko resisted the urge to roll her eyes at how melodramatic Asuka-senpai sounded.
"Okay," she conceded, just to stop the exchange from dragging any further, and bent in a half-bow. "Can I, um, leave now? To pack up my instrument?"
Asuka gave her an odd look before stepping aside. But as Kumiko opened the door, Asuka asked quietly, "Oumae-san? Is there anything you know that you're not telling me?"
Kumiko hesitated.
She thought of Reina's abusive stepfather. She thought of the way Reina had repeated over and over that she was grateful for him, and the way Reina had instantly known Kumiko was lying about her injuries. And she thought of the scar on her cheek, and of her own secrets: her wings, her control over light, and the mysterious men stalking her in the dark.
She turned and looked Asuka-senpai in the eye. Suddenly her heart was pounding as she realized just how disrespectful she'd been today.
"No," she uttered. "May I please go now?"
She felt Asuka's eyes on her back as she escaped the conversation back to the band room, only to find it empty. Reina had already left.
Oh god, Kumiko had just acted snippy with the drum major of the top high school band in Kyoto prefecture. Why was she so stupid? Already she was nervous of seeing Asuka in rehearsal tomorrow after school. But at the same time, a new day's rehearsal might also mean another chance to get the truth out of Reina about why she missed SunFes last Saturday.
Kumiko started to put away her euphonium, twisting out the mouthpiece and lowering the bulky instrument into its case. As she went through the motions, she thought about the new dilemma now facing her.
Reina was the first real friend Kumiko had ever had. In the past Kumiko'd had people whom she was friendly with, whom she ate lunch with and traded gossip with, but not like the emotionally deep conversations she'd shared with Kousaka Reina. And it was because she'd never met someone like Reina either. Reina was sort of a tsun-tsun on the outside, Kumiko had come to find, but the trumpet player always faithfully came to find Kumiko after each rehearsal she was present at, and always gave practice advice when Kumiko needed it. It was a little bit cute how tightly Reina plastered herself to Kumiko, to be honest, and Kumiko had now been sucked in for good.
But then with friends came liabilities that Kumiko had never worried about in the past. She thought of Reina's strange home life, and thought of how she'd defended Reina in front of Asuka today. What if Reina's physical safety was at risk someday, and Kumiko had to protect her in a far more extreme sense? Would she be willing to jeopardize the secrecy of her powers for Reina?
Kumiko really wasn't sure. Perhaps that made her a terrible person, but it was something to seriously consider. Otherwise, maybe it was best to listen to Asuka's advice. Maybe it was best to break it off now before risking a greater betrayal of friendship down the road.
But as Kumiko numbly put her sheet music and audition packet in her folder, she realized that the creeping fear she felt was not because of the possibility of having to fight for Reina- but rather because deep down, she'd already accepted it as inevitable. It was just like most of her indecisive moments- in reality she'd already made the decision in her heart, even though her mind was still weighing options and catching up.
The honest truth was that she was scared because it wasn't a question of 'if,' but of 'when.'
Kumiko picked up her backpack and stood up, deciding that she had to seriously start figuring out her plans. One day, the men in the dark might begin to do more than watch from afar.
Author's Note:
Definitely take a listen to Dance Movements Molto Ritmico here! watch?v=SnT4SztMXPg
It is one of the most difficult and interesting pieces of wind band literature I played in high school. (The last two pages of the piece contain some of the most challenging clarinet parts I've ever seen.) I'd recommend listening to the other movements; they are all beautiful and almost sound like movie music.