LESSON TWENTY-ONE

The moment Nodame got into her apartment, she fell on her knees and buried her face in her hands. For the next several minutes, she did nothing but sob and sniffle.

They shouldn't have taken me along with them to watch that ballet, she thought furiously, her tears spilling out of her already red eyes uncontrollably. Nodame shouldn't have agreed to come with them. This is all Nodame's fault.

During her dinner with Tanya and Franck, she had tried with great difficulty to stop herself from crying. She had shown her companions a brave and happy face as they ate the delectable Italian food. But even though Nodame had always been an avid eater, she didn't take much notice of the cuisine that evening. Her mind was too preoccupied with thoughts about the performance they had just recently watched.

The classic ballet Giselle was about a young peasant girl who fell in love with a man named Albrecht, who had disguised himself as a peasant but in truth was a wealthy count. Giselle hoped with all her heart that Albrecht would love her too, but it turned out that he was already engaged to Bathilde, a duke's daughter. When the duke invited Giselle to dance for his daughter, the heartbroken peasant girl danced herself to death with sheer exhaustion. Giselle's spirit then went off into a nearby forest, where the spirits of other virgins dwelt. Albrecht, who was actually also in love with her, followed her ghost into the forest. However, the other spirits dwelling in the forest forced him to dance until he died of exhaustion like his love. Albrecht would have died had not Giselle's spirit strengthened him with her strong love for him. In the end, even though Albrecht was still alive, he and Giselle never ended up together because Giselle was already dead.

Watching the ballet had brought tears to Nodame's eyes not because of its beautiful performance and moving music but because its plot had evoked in her the love she used to have. Or was it still a love that she had, but would only be sustained by a phantom of what it used to be? Was it a love that could only be stirred once again through an illusion, like Giselle's love for Albrecht?

"Nodame felt like she was watching her own love story being danced on that stage," she said under her breath, sniffing.

After the last conversation she had with Chiaki in Vienna, she was sure that they would not have any more conversations for a long time. Of course, she knew that they would still be able to see each other because they were after all the Golden Pair. But what worried Nodame was whether their future encounters would still be the same as the ones in the past or not. She remembered (and regretted) how harsh her words might have sounded to Chiaki.

"I don't need your help on my piano anymore."

Although until then she was still rather naïve, she knew that Chiaki was someone who reveled in the thought of being one of her biggest influences in music. Nodame herself admitted that her music would probably be a far cry from what it was now without Chiaki. He had inspired her in her music and he had been responsible for molding her into the bravura performer that she had become. She blamed herself for her rashness, for not thinking twice before telling him that it was all right for him to leave her for good.

Now will he ever come back to me now? she thought. It was always my fault to begin with. Nodame was the one who was so eager to make Senpai love her. But whenever he attempted to show how he felt about her, she always had doubts whether he was being sincere or not. I never believed him.

Hastily wiping the tears off her face with her hands, Nodame climbed onto her bed and wrapped the thick blanket all around her body, wanting to absorb its warmth. She shed a few more silent tears until at last the fatigue was too much for her and she finally succumbed to a deep but otherwise troubled sleep.

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"So what was it you wanted to talk about, my old friend?" asked Claudio Abbado, a well-known elderly Italian conductor who was a good friend of Rolf Königsberg. He and his old Austrian friend were having lunch at a bistro somewhere in downtown Vienna.

"Mr. Chiaki has just sent me an e-mail about his final decision on the repertoire for the September performance," Königsberg replied.

"And?"

"He's remained true to his word to conduct an all-Russian selection," said Königsberg.

"It seems he understands your orchestra's principles very well," Abbado mused with a smile on his face.

"I thought so too at first," put in Königsberg, nodding. "He seemed like the sort who would fit the role of the Vienna Philharmonic's conductor. He looked like the type who had a strong sense of tradition."

"You don't look too happy, though," said Abbado, who noticed the absence of enthusiastic glee on his friend's countenance.

"It seems I was wrong."

"About what?"

"I should have known that somebody like the young and famous Mr. Chiaki has a lot of surprises hiding up his sleeve," Königsberg explained.

Abbado squinted as though he was in a state of confusion.

Sighing heavily, Königsberg said, "He decided on Tchaikovsky, Borodin, and. . . Prokofiev."

"Prokofiev?!" asked Abbado loudly. He stared at his companion with a look of suppressed amusement and after a moment, he let out a laugh.

"Well, what do you expect, Rolf?" Abbado continued after he had recovered from laughing. "He's still a youngster compared to other conductors like myself. You don't really expect him to be a conservative performer, do you?"

"But I thought he was. . ." Königsberg began tiredly. "I believed. . . being Japanese and all that. . . his character might have been. . . oh, I don't know." He shrugged glumly and hastily finished his sentence.

"Do you believe this will put the orchestra in a dire situation?" inquired Abbado.

"'Dire?'" Königsberg answered in a disbelieving tone. "That's going over the top, my friend. But perhaps it might cause a slight stir," he added softly, placing a lot of emphasis on the last word.

Neither of the two men spoke for a few minutes as they returned to their food.

Just when Königsberg was about to take a huge bite of his pasta, he murmured, "He reminds me of you, Claudio."

"How so?"

"You were quite the rebel back then too, weren't you?"

Abbado grinned and replied, "I wasn't a rebel. I only had a keen interest in promoting new music. You didn't seem to mind at all, anyway. . . . As to Shinichi Chiaki, I don't believe he's a rebel either. I think he's just a fellow who likes a bit of adventure."

"Hmm. . . perhaps."

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Mine sighed and looked up at the clear morning sky as he stepped out of Chiaki's silver Lexus and onto the path leading to the airport's terminal.

"I can't wait to get home!" he exclaimed breathlessly.

Thank goodness, thought Chiaki, following his friend out of the car.

"Thanks for accommodating me," Mine said, placing his hands on Chiaki's shoulders.

Didn't you accommodate yourself? Chiaki asked in his mind wryly.

"It was no problem," replied Chiaki.

"The next time I'll visit you, let's watch Notting Hill again," Mine suggested enthusiastically.

"Idiot, why don't you bring the real My Best Friend's Wedding instead?" asked Chiaki. There was merely a hint of a grin on his lips.

Mine laughed and said, "All right, all right! If you say so. . . . By the way, Chiaki, do you want to know why I wanted us to watch Notting Hill?"

"What?" Chiaki asked in wonder. "I thought you brought the wrong DVD by mistake. Didn't you say you wanted to watch My Best Friend's Wedding?"

"Ah, well. . ." began Mine, scratching his head. There was a guilty expression on his face.

So it wasn't a mistake, Chiaki thought in frustration. He planned everything. It was really Notting Hill after all. . . . But what exactly was he planning?

"The reason I wanted you to watch Notting Hill," Mine explained, "was because you're Julia Roberts in that movie."

"Huh?"

"Aren't you?" continued Mine. "You're really famous and successful, like Julia Roberts, and you're in love with a normal person."

"What are you talking about?" Chiaki asked, frowning.

"Nodame," replied Mine simply. "She's Hugh Grant in Notting Hill."

Chiaki could only stare at him dumbfoundedly.

"When I watched that movie, it reminded me of you and Nodame," Mine said. "I hope it helped you remember too. Well, I'll be going now."

Mine flashed his best friend a wide grin before heading off into the gate.

I'm Julia Roberts? thought Chiaki as he watched Mine disappear into the large crowd gathered at the airport's entrance.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope this chapter is fine, although it is rather short.

Well, I haven't got much to say at the moment, so consider yourself lucky! Haha.

I appreciate your comments.