Chapter 14: Appassionato
The next time they saw each other, there was a bit of an awkward tension between them that swiftly melted away into a comfortable familiarity. He was still a bit embarrassed to kiss her in public, but they took advantage of every minute they had alone; at his apartment, in her practice room, random dark corners walking back after dates. They soon discovered that the first kiss was not the best kiss, despite how media romanticizes it; every kiss afterwards was better as they became more practiced. Oni-Michiko was told to shut up about going farther; truthfully, Michiko thought it was sweet that Momiji wanted to wait until they really knew they loved each other. Having been on the receiving end of the agony that love can produce, he was not about to affect Michiko with the same pain by taking things too quickly.
It was less than a week after New Year's when Momiji finally decided to tell Michiko about his idea.
"Michiko?"
"Hmm?" No matter how much she liked him, once she had gotten her hands on a good score, there was no digging her out of it until she had perused it to her heart's content. He decided to give her a minute to finish; when she looked up, he continued.
"What would you think about a private recital, just you and me, and a friend of mine?"
For a moment her face was blank; then her eyes crinkled with glee as she smiled. "Hai! That would be a blast. As long as you don't make me do a number by myself."
"Iie, no, no, just duet pieces. I was considering Bach's Air on the G string, and some Schubert, and maybe a 20th century piece. Also, I have to include a certain song."
"Which one?"
"Wish Upon a Star."
"Nani?" Some old American kid's piece?
"It's a promise. Also, I want my friend to join me on that one. Just that one. I don't know if she's up for more."
Michiko's eyes narrowed a bit as Oni-Michiko began spouting protests. "Your friend is a girl?"
He laughed at her and kissed the top of her head comfortingly. "Don't worry, it's not like that. She's only eleven, for one thing. For another..."
He shook his head. "It's unimportant. Besides, how could I consider any other girl when I have you?" What about Tohru? something whispered in his mind. He shooed that obnoxious thought away.
Momo was just as excited to hear about the plan as he was to tell her. Naturally, he'd had to ask his father first. But his father had okayed the plan and asked if there was anything he could do to help. Momiji denied needing any help...although he was thinking that he needed to upgrade to a better violin soon. He supposed it wouldn't be any problem if he just went out and bought one, but...
Shi-san had been more than willing to allow them to use the concert hall for the performance; moreover, he had told Momiji that he'd contacted his friend in Vienna and that he'd agreed to talk to him. That evening, Momiji called the number Shi-san had given him on his phone.
He stood there nervously, eyes wandering about the room, trying to breathe. The phone rang once...twice...three times...finally, someone on the other line picked up. "Ja?"
Momiji took a deep breath, and hesitant, unpracticed German came out. "Hallo, ist mein Name Momiji. Wie gehen Sie?" (Hello, my name is Momiji. How are you?)
"Sie mussen empfolenes Batsushi sein der Violinist." (You must be the violinist Batsushi recommended.)
"Ja, ist das recht." (Yes, that's right.)
"Er eklarte mir einege guten Sachen uber Sie." (He told me some good things about you.)
"Nein, nein..." (No, no...)
Chuckles on the other end. "Er war die gleiche Weise. Es ist fein. Eklaren sei mir: warun mochten Sie Musik erlernen?" (You're just like him. It's okay. Tell me something: why do you want to learn music?)
Momiji thought about it for a moment. "Ich denke, dass es weil ist: Musik ist die faszinierendste Weise der Ubermittlung jeder menschlinchen Erfarung." (I think it's because music is the most fascinating way of conveying human experience.) He thought about it for a minute longer, and then added, "Aber ich bin zu jung, wirklich zu wissen. Das ist, warum ich fortfahren muss zu erlernen." (But I'm too young to really know. That's why I have to continue to learn.)
"Hmm..." A pause on the other end. "Gute Antwort." (Good answer.)
A little sigh. "Gut lassen sie uns furs Erste annehmen, das ich Sie unterrichte." (Well, for now let's assume I will teach you.)
"Arigato...argh...danke."
"Wir sprechen mehr." (We will talk more.)
Since then, there had been several conversations with Herr Fiedler. Shi-san was right; Fiedler was extremely intelligent and extremely proud. Fortunately, Momiji, having been raised in Japan as well as having his own particular personality, was a model of humility and respect. He impressed Fiedler with his eagerness to learn, and after the last conversation, Momiji was told he would be gladly accepted as a pupil.
"So I'm all set to leave for Vienna a couple of weeks after graduation," he told Michiko the day after it had been decided. "The concert will be the week before, and then I'll be setting off." He wondered vaguely what kind of place Vienna was.
Her face set into the last expression he'd expected: annoyance. "And what am I supposed to do? Stay home and knit?"
He was a little astonished. He hadn't thought of that. For whatever reason, whenever he'd pictured himself in Europe, he'd imagined her with him. It had never occurred to him that she wouldn't come.
"Well...well...what am I supposed to do?"
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. Then she kissed him in that way she did when she found him extraordinarily annoying and cute at the same time. "Baka! I don't know why I love how dense you are. You're supposed to ask me to come with you, warui usagi!"
He was stunned for a minute, and then a little smile began to form. "Michiko...do you want to come with me to Vienna?"
She feigned disinterest. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe, maybe not. Maybe I'll just go by myself, find some attractive Austrian man and run off with him."
He took her hands tenderly in his. Despite her playful attitude, she looked up at him with shining eyes. "Chigau. Because if you're in Vienna, I'll find you. If you run away to Paris, I'll run after you. Even if you decide to take to America, I'll go and brave that country just to get to you."
Her answer was not in words. And that was that.
Momiji found his hours of freedom decreasing rapidly after that. Besides studying for graduation exams, he began to realize exactly how enormous of a project he had taken into his hands. He had to find a technical crew; he had to prepare invitations; he had to arrange for tuning the piano, etc. And then there was the music. He had chosen especially challenging pieces by a large array of composers. Michiko herself complained from time to time about the pieces he had chosen.
"I'm fine with the Schubert Fantasia and Massanet's 'Meditation from Thais', but...but why hand me an orchestral score for the Stravinsky violin concerto?"
"You do it all the time with the community orchestra."
"But this is frickin' Stravinsky! You should know how hard it is yourself just from the violin part! Try reading all the orchestral instruments! Besides, it's absolute sacrilege, converting this score to piano, and you know it."
He gave her his famous sad puppy dog eyes. "Kudasaiiiii?" She couldn't say no after that.
One afternoon after working with Momo on the violin duet arrangement he himself had arranged from "Wish Upon a Star," his younger sister did the last thing he'd expected.
"Arigato gozaimasu for working with me today, Onii-chan!"
True, it was harmless enough, but Momiji was so sensitive to any referral of kinship between him and Momo that his eyes widened and he gave a little gasp when she said that. "Momo-chan...why did you call me that?"
"Because you're just like a big brother, Onii-chan. You're kind, and sweet, and you teach me all sorts of things. Plus, you look just like Mutti."
"Iie, chigau..."
"Nein!" Momo's German response broke Momiji's resolve, and he dropped to one knee and held her tight to him. Consequences be damned. For once, he wanted to enjoy this moment. "Hai, I'll be your Onii-chan," he whispered into her hair. "Demo...just don't tell your papa, okay? He wouldn't understand?"
"Doshite?"
"Please just trust me."
A little bit of silence. Then: "Ja."
He straightened up and patted her head. "I think I hear your Mutti coming to pick you up. Put away your violin carefully, kudasai."
As Momo put away her violin, their mother came into the room, wrapped in some filmy garment that she loved to wear. "Did you have fun, Momo-chan?" she asked the little girl.
"Hai!" Momo ran ahead with her violin, after waving goodbye to Momiji, and their mother started to follow. Then she stopped, turned around, and faced Momiji.
"Thank you for everything you've done for my little girl, Momiji-kun." She gave him the smile that he wished he could see every day. "She is always so happy, coming to work with you, and she is looking forward to the concert more than school getting out." She hesitated. "This may sound very strange, but...if Momo had an older brother, I'd wish he were like you."
Momiji flushed crimson as he bowed. "Iie...that's too much...arigato..."
She laughed a little. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Momiji-kun. Ja matta ne."
"Ja ne."
Graduation came, and with it came Tohru and Kyou (Yuki still hung up at college with exams). Although he was busy, Momiji made sure to wait for them at the train station. Softly pink blossoms floated lazily in the breeze that stirred up the sakura tree he was sitting under, and he thought briefly of the strange significance of them at this moment. Only a year ago, he had been pining after someone he couldn't have, now he was merely waiting for an old friend. He had been a fledgling, struggling violinist with no idea of how to accomplish his dreams; now he was traveling to Vienna to study with a master artist. How light, how transitory was this fleeting life.
"Live in simple faith
Just as this trusting cherry
Flowers, fades, and falls."
As he softly quoted the immortal lines of Issa, a screeching of brakes announced the arrival of the expected train. The doors opened; among the other people stepped out a tall man with orange hair. Turning back, he held out a hand to the beautiful brown-haired woman behind him.
Momiji still could not help but catch his breath. But he remembered Michiko; and his longing lessened, and gradually disappeared.
He stepped lightly over to the couple with his trademark smile. "Tohru-kun! How are you? How was your trip?"
He attempted to take her bags, but Kyou beat him to it with a glare. Momiji laughed it off. "Kyou-kun, it's been a long time, ne? How's the dojo going?"
His older cousin's face softened. "It's going well. Although there are a lot of challenges, I have an angel to guide me through my hard days and rejoice with my good days." He smiled at his beautiful bride-to-be. "And soon I will make that angel's residence permanent."
Ah, the wedding! It couldn't be said that he'd forgotten about it, but what with graduation, the upcoming recital, and his preparations to leave Japan, it had been shoved to the back of his mind. "I still can't believe you're getting married, Tohru-kun! Hey," to Kyou, "you be nice to her, or I'll make you pay, okay?"
Both of them laughed, and Tohru found herself gazing at Momiji in a new way than before. He'd grown up. Well, he'd grown up physically earlier, but now there was something about his very manner--something that let her know he was beyond Popsicles and rabbit backpacks.
She was a little sad that he'd grown up.
The evening that he, Haru, Jakob and Freia all graduated, celebrating by going out for "tea" afterwards, Momiji, putting on a light spring jacket to run over to practice with Michiko, heard a knock on his apartment door.
He froze momentarily. He knew that knock. He opened the door. "Please come in, Otou-san."
His father entered his apartment for the first time since he'd helped Momiji choose it, a little sheepishly. In his hands he carried a violin case. Momiji found himself eying it curiously. It was an expensive case, he knew that at a glance.
"Momiji, I'm sorry I was unable to attend your graduation this afternoon."
"Iie, daijobu desu yo. I understand; it would be unnatural and would raise awkward questions." Secretly he'd wished all three of them had been there, but he'd known it was a dream. At least Michiko and Hime-san had been there, so it was almost like he had family present.
His father held out the case to him. "A graduation gift. I...I'm so proud of you, son. If only the curse hadn't existed..." He sighed heavily.
"But sometimes trials bring people closer together, right?" Momiji responded. Then he smiled, and held out a hand.
His father took it warmly, then pulled his son in for a tight embrace. As the two of them stood there, Momiji felt tears form in his eyes. If only this didn't have to be held a secret...if only his mother were here to hug him with that delicious smile of hers, and Momo to entwine herself around his legs.
But that was dreaming, and this was the world. The two men pulled apart, and his father gestured to the violin case, which he had placed on the floor. "I don't really know anything about choosing violins, but if Momo's teacher's expression meant anything..."
Momiji opened it with questioning eyes. The shiny buckles slid open with a cheerful clip, and then there it was.
He picked it, hardly daring to breathe, not believing it.
A Nicolo Amati violin. To be more accurate, a replica, but an old, extraordinarily accurate replica.
He looked up at his father, astonishment cutting short every word of thanks he knew in either Japanese or German.
His father smiled back at him. "Well, is it a fitting instrument?"
"Papa..."
He picked up the violin with the accompanying bow, tuned the strings slightly, and adjusted it under the side of his chin. He felt the hard curves against his collar bone and jaw; he slid his left hand gently up and down the neck. Then he put the bow to the strings and played an open D, just to hear the sound. The note gave way to something he from his distant memory; some old, foreign film he'd watched on a whim.
He was the Fiddler on the Roof. His father listened, appreciatively, to the Hebrew melody, naturally imbibed with longing, sorrow, and a very cynical joy for life.
He made a mental note to include it in the program for the recital.
The notes finished, and his father, after a minute, began applauding and clapped him on the shoulder. Then his expression changed from pleasure to something between sadness, joy, worry and pride. "You're leaving Japan in a couple of weeks."
Momiji flushed. "Hai, Otou-san."
"When did you find out for sure?"
"A week or so ago. I can't wait, but at the same time..." It was Japan, after all. One didn't just leave Japan, as if one casually tosses aside a scarf. "I'm going, but I'll be back," he said, furiously trying to convince himself it was true. After all, if Shi-san had come back after such a successful career in Europe, surely he would return someday, too.
Chigau: wrong (chigaumasen: not wrong)