Angels in the Architecture

Part 2: Molto Ritmico

Chapter 16: Permission Slip

"You know we've only got two weeks left until prefecturals?"

"Mhm."

"And mini-camp is this weekend?"

"Mhm."

"So has your stepfather... did he sign your permission slip yet?"

Reina stared at the trumpet she clasped in her pale hands, the one Father Taki had bought for her after he'd plucked her out of that godforsaken orphanage. She knew that she owed him everything- her life, her safety, her future- and yet she still found herself wondering if things could have been better if she'd turned down Taki's offer six years ago. What if she had chosen instead to forge a life on her own?

In any case, the past was immutable and irrelevant. Here she was now. All that mattered was how the future might unfold from here on out.

"I don't know," Reina admitted. That was all she could say to Kumiko (just a friend, nothing more) without blatantly lying. "Maybe. Why?"

Standing above her, Kumiko's hand tightened imperceptibly on her music folder as she said, "Well... I was just thinking about rooming sign-ups. You know, about... if you wanted to sleep with- I mean room with me."

Reina peeked up through her bangs and studied those wide amber eyes.

She smiled.

"I'll tell you when I get my form signed," she agreed, feeling her cheeks tinge red. "I promise I'll ask."

"You will?" said Kumiko with a look of surprise.

"Don't say it like that," Reina snapped. "You're making it sound like I'm the terrible person here."

"Then we can both be terrible together," the euphonium player declared enthusiastically- which made absolutely no sense.

Reina had never heard anything more stupid and yet more endearing.

Originally Reina had hoped that Kumiko would stay and practice with her, but apparently the curly-haired weirdo had dinner plans with her family. So after they said their goodbyes for the evening, Kumiko left the band hallway and Reina sulkily sought a corner to practice her music alone.

The first place she checked was the main band room. The large classroom had become her favorite location to practice; it allowed her to fearlessly project her sound compared to the confined feeling of smaller rooms. Usually the band room remained empty after rehearsals, but today she wasn't as fortuitous. Somebody else was using it. In the middle of the band room sat Kitauji's giant marimba, all five octaves of resonators and rosewood gleaming in the fluorescent light. Playing it was the band's principal percussionist, Knuckles. He gripped a stick in each hand like lollipops as he banged out some comically arduous music with a ridiculous grin on his face.

Reina glared at him through the window for several irritating seconds through the before turning on her heel to find somewhere more peaceful.

The one day I actually have time to practice, she fumed mentally, and not only does Kumiko have to go home, but this dude is also hogging the band room. On a marimba. That's my luck.

Out of all the instruments in the band, Reina hated mallet percussion the most. Glockenspiels, marimbas, vibraphones, xylophones... all those silly 'lollipop' instruments sounded mocking and childish and clown-like. They embodied everything she despised. And the worst one was the marimba: the instrument which Knuckles whacked right now with his two little lollipops. Its mere presence made everything sound like a goddamn tropical island, like Hashimoto-sensei's weird Hawaiian shirts. Reina honestly believed that marimbas had no business being amongst graceful wind instruments in a concert band. Or maybe she was just extra-irritated because of Kumiko's untimely dinner plans.

She got away as far as possible from Knuckles before settling down to practice her parts in Dance Movements: Molto Ritmico.

Trapped in a smaller classroom, her trumpet sounded muffled and gloomy.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Hours crawled by to the clockwork of Reina's metronome.

It was impossible to adjust to Kumiko's absence.

Usually Reina was the one who had to flee on the tails of every rehearsal. Because of that, it was always Kumiko who ended up practicing alone, but now Reina was the one stranded without companionship in an empty school.

She stared blankly at the sheet music folder propped open on her stand. Click, click, click, click. Was this loneliness? Reina had never really felt lonely before. Preceding loneliness was the prerequisite of having someone to lose, which had never been one of her major concerns. In fact, it was safer if fewer people approached her, because isolation had always equaled security throughout Reina's entire life. In detachment she took comfort- even pride. To be socially rejected, after all, was to be special.

But back then, no one had had come as close as Oumae Kumiko. And Oumae Kumiko was coming damn close. Reina knew she was heading into dangerous waters. She knew herself well enough that she recognized what she felt whenever Kumiko made weird noises, when she saw the girl shuffling down the hallway with bouncing brown curls, when those amber eyes lit up with fury on occasion, and the pleasure of knowing Kumiko stood just two centimeters taller than herself... And the bliss of lying in Kumiko's lap, savoring the illusion that all was well in the world...

If Reina fanned the flames of her own attraction, it could end badly. The last time she'd kissed a girl, when she was nine...

Three children had died that day, their blood and brains splattered on the pavement below, and it had been her fault, all my fault...

Reina swallowed and put down her trumpet. It was a memory she wanted to douse in gasoline and burn.

This is different, she reminded herself. I'm older now. I'm smarter. It won't happen again.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Only then did Reina realize that she'd been staring blankly at her sheet music for well over half an hour with the metronome ticking away in the background. If she was going to waste time here pining over Kumiko, she might as well head home and make herself useful to Father Taki. She needed to keep a good record with him, to exchange her helpfulness for favors from him later down the road. Tit for tat.

As Reina reached for her music folder and flipped it shut, the band camp permission slip slipped loose and fluttered down to the linoleum floor.

I promise I'll ask, her words to Kumiko echoed in her head.

Reina reached down and retrieved the form. She made up her mind. The raven-haired girl packed up her trumpet, snapped the case shut, and left the room.

It was worth a shot.

Hashimoto-sensei's office turned out to be locked and unoccupied. But Reina spotted his work bag lying on the desk and an umbrella propped against the file cabinet, so she knew the band director was still in the building. The next logical room to check was only a bit further down the hall.

When Reina neared the band room, she heard soft marimba sounds again. Why is Knuckles still here? she fumed silently. Why does he always have to play that clownish instrument?

She turned to leave- until she realized the music didn't sound clownish at all.

There was no way this was Knuckles. Whoever it was now played with a painfully gentle touch, quiet and thoughtful in a way Reina had never thought possible for a percussionist. She slowed to an inaudible tiptoe and approached the windows in the band room doors.

Curiosity piqued, she peeked through the glass... and saw Hashimoto-sensei. Oh that's right, he has a degree in percussion performance. The band director stood playing the marimba with four mallets. He gripped two in each hand, head bowed as he concentrated and moved gracefully before the keyboard instrument, effortlessly maintaining enough control over all four mallets to hit the right notes.

Reina had never seen technique like this before. The soft music didn't sound frilly or cluttered like Knuckles' annoying ping-ponging, but she had the feeling that Hashimoto-sensei was demonstrating a far higher level of mastery.

She was about to knock and enter when her musical ear picked up an important detail about the band director's playing, crucial enough that she paused and retreated from the door. Organic. That was the word to describe her band director's music, free-flowing and honest- because Hashimoto-sensei currently improvising, putting his whims and emotions into music. He'd probably assumed the school was empty by now and had decided to open a self-dialogue in solitude.

Reina knew that she had stumbled on a private moment; it'd be a crime to interrupt Hashimoto-sensei like this. She herself understood well the vulnerability and intimacy of of improvising alone. In fact, no one had ever heard her improvise before.

So, she smiled and turned away from the door. It hadn't been an appropriate time to ask about the permission slip, but she was glad she got to hear Hashimoto-sensei play his instrument of study. When a musician improvised, their true self was revealed in their music. And what Reina heard was warm and playful and gentle, with a slight hint of... something that sounded like sadness. There was really a lot more to Hashimoto-sensei than she'd always assumed; beneath the dumb gawdy facade was a genuinely good person.

And maybe percussion instruments weren't so stupid after all.

Reina started to leave- but then the music slowed to a pause.

"You can come in, Kousaka-san," she heard Hashimoto-sensei chuckle in the distance. Footsteps padded over, then the door slid open to the band director's weird flashy Hawaiian clothes and green-eyed smile. He held his four marimba mallets in a cluster at his side.

"Still practicing?" he questioned. "You need help with something?"

"Oh... pardon me, Sensei," said Reina apologetically, setting her trumpet case on the floor. "I didn't mean to interrupt. And... you're really good at marimba."

"Eh, I'm alright," said Hashimoto-sensei, rubbing the scruff on his chin. "Haven't played in a while, but that Knuckles-kun left the marimba sitting out today. Speaking of which, I gotta scold him tomorrow for not returning the mallets properly."

"You were using four," said Reina. "I didn't know people did that."

"Oh, the Musser-Stevens grip?" Hashimoto-sensei grinned childishly as he demonstrated, fanning out three mallets in one hand. "I can actually take up to four in each hand. Or six, if I'm drunk and feeling brave."

Reina felt genuinely curious. Over the years in concert band she'd picked up a thorough understanding of every brass instrument out there and a workable knowledge of the woodwind family, but was largely unfamiliar with percussion technique. She'd never heard of multiple mallets before.

"Is that common for percussionists?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, from high school and beyond," said Hashimoto-sensei, toying with the mallets between his fingers. "You probably just never noticed because you're a wind player. I'm actually planning on doing some Stevens grip sectionals for the perc kids at band camp this weekend."

He seemed to notice when Reina's eyes dimmed and lowered at the mention of band camp.

"Kousaka-san? What's wrong?"

Reina decided to cut straight to the point.

"I just had a question about camp."

"Alright. Let's hear it."

The band director's default answer was easy to predict, but she had to try anyway. Reina had promised Kumiko to at least try. So she asked hesitantly, "Is there a way... that I can go, without a signed permission slip?"

Hashimoto-sensei grimaced.

"Your stepfather said no, didn't he."

"I... haven't asked yet," Reina admitted She reached into her music folder and drew out the blank form.

"And I suppose you don't want to."

Reina remained silent as she clutched the form.

"I'm afraid that you can't go without a signed form from a legal guardian, Kousaka-san," said the band director seriously. "That's school policy. The only thing I can tell you is to do your best to -"

"- can you sign it, Sensei?"

Hashimoto-sensei blinked, surprised.

"You're my teacher," said Reina firmly, holding out the form. "You're already legally licensed to watch over students, right? You're allowed to be a guardian at school and for school events. And you already have my emergency contact and health forms from the school. So... could you please give me permission to go?"

Hashimoto-sensei stared at the form in Reina's extended hand for a moment.

"Please," Reina repeated, insistence bordering on desperation.

To her dismay, Hashimoto-sensei closed his eyes.

"Kousaka-san," he sighed, "I am not your legal guardian."

Several seconds of silence.

"I'm sorry," offered Hashimoto-sensei helplessly. "It's school policy- it's the law. My hands are tied."

Then Reina put the form away and picked up her instrument.

"Thank you for your time, Sensei," she said flatly with a polite bow. "Have a good evening."

She was halfway down the hall when Hashimoto-sensei called, "Kousaka-san?"

Reina turned.

"Ask him," said Hashimoto-sensei. "Just do that much. When he says no, I'll do anything I can to help you from there. I promise."

Perhaps, Reina thought as she continued home, perhaps it was really worth a shot.

"What," said Father Taki softly, "is this?"

Reina swallowed, struggling to maintain her composure.

"It's the permission form for band camp this weekend," she said quickly, keeping her plea as concise as to-the-point as possible. Father Taki hated it when people took too long. "I've been working hard lately," she added immediately, "and I've been missing rehearsals, and I've been doing a lot for us. So I was hoping we could move the vacation to next weekend. It's just one week later. I just wanted to-"

CRACK.

Father Taki's hand whipped across her face before she could finish. The force of the slap sent Reina reeling, stumbling back in blinding pain.

"Do you consider me stupid?"

The priest set down his half-drained wineglass with a soft clink and slowly rose from his chair, towering above Reina with his full height as his blue eyes gazed coldly down at her from behind his precise glasses.

"You don't think I remember that I've allowed you under contract to attend your band competition next weekend?" he said softly. "Are you trying to buy yourself another two weeks?"

He strode forward. Reina backed away instinctively in fright, covering her stinging cheek with a shaking hand.

"No," she stammered, "that's- that's not what I -"

"The amusement park is only open this weekend," Father Taki interrupted, his voice dangerously gentle as he cornered his stepdaughter against the wall. "I am sick of you cowering like some cripple. You will learn to do what you were born to do, and you will learn this weekend. Not next week. Not two weeks later. We will go this weekend. Is that clear?"

Reina was so paralyzed with terror that she couldn't speak as the priest's shadow loomed over her, invading her space. He means well. He means well for us. Her heart threatened to burst from her chest as her mind spun with fearful thoughts. Her wobbling eyes were fixed on the floor.

Annoyed, the priest reached forward and took Reina's chin, lifting her up so his blue gaze bore into her purple eyes.

"I said," Father Taki repeated, "is that clear?"

Reina swallowed.

She had only one idea left, and it was one she hated herself for. What she was about to do was despicable. To throw under the bus the one man who regarded her as a human being, who cared about her despite having great cause not to. She was about to jeopardize her band director's safety, just so she could spend two nights with the most beautiful girl in the world... so she could sleep in the same room as Kumiko, see her pajamas, see her bed hair in the morning, hold her...

It was a risk, Reina knew, but still only a risk. She told herself that she was strong. She could prevent any harm from coming to Hashimoto-sensei.

She turned away from Father Taki.

"Hashimoto-sensei told me to ask you," Reina murmured, voice cracking quietly. I can protect him. "He told me he'd do anything to help me go to band camp if you said no." I can warn him.

A long, tense pause.

Reina waited for the inevitable response.

And then, Father Taki smiled. Gentle as ever, but Reina caught a slight predatory glint in those blue eyes.

"He's the pretty teacher who called me and drove you home last week?" His tone lilted ever so slightly.

"Hai," Reina affirmed.

"The one who apparently healed your head wound?"

"Hai."

"The one who escaped a car accident with an undamaged car?"

"Hai."

Father Taki regarded her for a moment before turning away to face the window, folding his arms against his black priest's cassock as his blue eyes swept over the ragged churchyard below. His dark hair gleamed in the faint daylight as his glasses flashed for a split second with the reflection of the clouded dusk.

"Take your empty form back to your teacher," he ordered. "See what he does."

"Hai," Reina agreed quietly.

She recognized his wordless permission to dismiss herself and left the living room area, retreating to her own bedroom. She clutched the form with trembling fingers, staring at the blank lines on the paper. For a moment she considered snatching up a pen and simple forging Father Taki's signature to avoid the whole ordeal. She knew the scribble well and could duplicate it effortlessly, but it still wouldn't allow her to escape their planned 'vacation.' Hashimoto-sensei might be placated by a signed form at first, but when Reina missed band camp he would still come calling until he captured Father Taki's attention. It seemed impossible for Reina to prevent them from meeting.

Reina left the form on her neatly cluttered desk and fell onto her bed. She lay staring at the ceiling, lightly dabbing at her still-stinging cheek with numb fingers.

Ever since Father Taki had spied Hashimoto-sensei walking Reina and Kumiko through the churchyard in the rain, he'd taken an instant interest in the teacher. Under contract Reina had been forced by Father Taki to tell him everything she knew about Hashimoto-sensei. It seemed the priest had been keeping track of her teacher even more closely than she'd thought.

Meanwhile, the way that Father Taki listed so many of the unusual events surrounding Hashimoto-sensei really brought to light just how strange Reina's band director was- one instance being that her head stopped hurting and her wound disappeared after Hashimoto-sensei patted her head that night. It was the same night that Kumiko defended her, before Hashimoto-sensei forgave Reina as a strange cool breeze fluttered through the air.

Now that Reina thought about it, Hashimoto-sensei was definitely weird. Almost enough to be special, although all of those happenings could have been coincidences.

Maybe Hashimoto-sensei could really find a way to convince Father Taki. Perhaps she'd really get to be with Kumiko for two nights, pretending to be normal. Imagining she wasn't a cripple.

She pulled out her phone as she crawled under her covers and pulled up the name 'Geh' from her Favorites contacts. A name that Father Taki wouldn't recognize if he searched her phone.

Are you still at dinner? she wrote.

When after half an hour there was no response, Reina rolled over on her bed and curled into herself, hugging her arms near her chest. She felt like one entire cavity, the pain throbbing deeply in her sternum though not sharp enough to bring tears to her eyes. But it was there, the aching, and Reina could only sigh shakily as she lay against the pillow.

Was this what loneliness felt like?