When she agreed to be Komachi's partner for the concert, Hotaru forgot about the critical part of a concert – the audience. Performers performed for someone watching, after all, and too used to playing for the sake of learning and playing, Hotaru forgot about the aspect of standing on a stage where a large number of unknown people would be watching.
She only began to realize that when Komachi asked her if her family would be coming.
"Family?" Hotaru repeated, a sudden weight dropping in her stomach. It wasn't anything about her family coming to watch that jabbed at her nerves, but rather the realization of other performers also having their family there.
In other words, a large audience.
"Or friends." Komachi shrugged, unknowingly making things worse, because family members weren't the only ones that would be attending. "I told Haru-chan to hold off on getting tickets just yet, in case you wanted to be the one to give them to her."
She had a few for her and Takeshi and the others, yes, but . . .
She was going to be performing. In front of a large audience.
Feeling faint, Hotaru swayed.
"You alright?"
"I think," Hotaru answered, her voice sounding distant to her own ears, just as distant as Komachi's own slightly panicked voice. "I need to sit down."
"Stage fright is completely natural," said Michiru when Hotaru recounted the feeling at home. Komachi had been worried, but Hotaru insisted she didn't need to go to the doctor, she just needed a little rest.
Really, it was a psychological thing. A hospital wouldn't help with that.
Hotaru gave her three parents a slight glare. Haruka raced in front of huge, cheering crowds – made up of people who liked watching fast cars, at that. Setsuna taught physics to a lecture hall full of university students. And Michiru? Michiru was a famous violinist who had concerts when she was still a teenager.
She didn't want to hear about stage fright being natural from them.
But they were sailor soldiers, they protected the solar system. They weren't going to be scared by a little glare being shot towards them.
Michiru tucked herself in to the seat next to Hotaru on the sofa and leaning her head on her hand. "During one of my first recitals, I was wearing a white, frilly, lacy dress. I looked like an angel and my parents loved it, but it was very frilly, especially around the neck and shoulder area."
A hand traced across Michiru's slender neck and shoulders, and Hotaru grimaced at the areas her mother pointed out. Frills there had the unfortunate side effect of encouraging the violin to pursue dreams of becoming a figure skater.
She nodded. "Exactly. I made mistakes on stage because my dress made the violin slip in my grip. I was mortified, so by the time I was done, my face was red, and I felt like I was going to cry. I went home that night swearing to myself I was going to never wear something covering my shoulders again, not while playing the violin."
Michiru always wore evening gowns when she performed. She especially liked the dresses Setsuna designed and made for her, and Hotaru had seen her wear something from Triton Castle a few times.
"Only the people who try something can make mistakes," said Setsuna. "Are you going to be too afraid of mistakes you might make to ever try something?"
Sometimes the right words helped. Sometimes the right words kind of sucked.
"No," Hotaru dragged the word out, very reluctant but knowing they were right.
Michiru tittered. "If it helps," she said. "I never play for the audience. It's always just me, on my own. Well," she amended. "If it's a solo. If I'm performing with someone else, they're included, but otherwise, I'm in a world of my own, and nothing else matters except the violin and I."
Hotaru took note of that. Just ignore everyone. She could probably do that.
When he had to tell Hotaru that he couldn't make it to her recital because the date overlapped with the cruise his mom won in the raffle, Tsuna was wracked with guilt, even when she told him it was alright.
Now, it was stress that tormented him, because Reborn. That the cause of his pain and suffering could be summarized into one word was both impressive and sad.
The familiar face and attitude of the latest agent of chaos in his life didn't help his rocketing blood pressure, either.
"Longchamp, why are you here?!"
"That's what I should be asking you!" Longchamp, ever upbeat and unflappable, grinned and pointed at him with a finger gun. "Sawada, you're going to Mafia Land, too?"
While Longchamp's latest girlfriend – who, following his trend, also looked like someone not from this planet – asked questions and his family popped up, loud as usual, Reborn answered his question.
"The ship's heading to the tropical mafia paradise." Tsuna's tutor had slipped back into the costume of curled hair, a bowl of fruit and a wreathe of laurel leaves. His usual black suit, unfortunately, Reborn hadn't yet put back on above his birthday suit.
"Stop taking your clothes off!" he shrieked, the knee-jerk first response, because Tsuna had priorities. With his usual protest to the unusual shenanigans of Reborn given, Tsuna could now address the question he had.
"Mom won this off a raffle, from a bottle cap. This shouldn't have anything to do with the mafia."
The best crusher of hope Tsuna knew of didn't fail him. "That's just a fake notice I slipped in to give her a much-deserved vacation."
After the usual panic and despair at being dragged into yet another mafia mess, Longchamp did something incredibly uncharacteristic and helped uplift Tsuna's mood.
"You shouldn't be surprised, Sawada," he said, clearly enjoying how his girlfriend had her arms wrapped around his shoulders lovingly. It was a bit of a terrifying picture, but Longchamp seemed more than comfortable with it, and at least this one wasn't trying to turn Tsuna into an ornament. "The entire island is a super fantastic vacation resort!"
The cruise ship arrived at the destination moments after, and Tsuna was treated to the sights of a tropical island amusement park, bigger than any theme park he'd ever seen. Even the distance between the island and the cruise ship couldn't keep the details from standing out.
Okay, so maybe this was something he could look forward to after all.
Tsuna didn't know how wrong he was, or just how much suffering he'd be subjected to merely hours later at the hands of not one but two sadistic babies, and the attack of a third.
With Tsuna and everyone in his house, plus Gokudera, gone on a cruise, Takeshi's life got a little quieter and more peaceful. Not that Tsuna made life hectic, or that Hotaru was boring, but the average volume certainly decreased in his day-to-day activities.
Neither was bad, Takeshi decided, thinking about it. The mafia game was fun, because it was exciting. Spending time with the girls like the old days was also fun, because it was relaxing.
Though attending a concert was new.
Takeshi fidgeted, tugging at his collar. He was never one to wear the school uniform perfectly unless he absolutely had to. His tie usually had a way of going slightly askew, and his uniform less than pristine. The unfortunate side effect to prioritizing movement and mobility over, well, looking like a polished student.
"Takeshi-kun," hissed Haru at his side, eyesight like a hawk at the slightest sign of a fashion crisis. "Your tie's getting crooked."
She made him hold the bouquet they bought for Hotaru and straightened it for what felt like the twentieth time since they had met up. Haru was dressed up really nicely, too, in a light aqua colored dress fancier than her usual clothes. Her hair was loose and curled, instead of pulled back in a ponytail.
Takeshi had thought they were a little too dressed up, but looking at the people attending, he guessed they weren't too bad. He still had no idea what semi-formal was supposed to mean, but he knew enough to know that jeans and a t-shirt, his original plan, was probably not the best choice.
"A little fancy," he muttered. He was still growing, but his dad insisted that he have a suit, and bought one a size larger than what fit at the time. He'd grown taller since then, and now it fit him perfectly, but he felt dressed up. Kind of like his uniform, but stiffer.
Definitely not threads to play baseball in.
Michiru, on the other side of Haru, smiled at that.
"Just wait until you're attending formal events," she whispered, covering her mouth with the pamphlet of performers to muffle the sound of her voice to everyone else. Hotaru had to go early for dress rehearsal, so it was Michiru who picked them up and brought them. She was also wearing a dress, coincidentally a similar color to Haru's, but she looked natural in it, like she was born to wear dresses to fancy events like parties and concerts. Haru looked like she was having a lot of fun and Takeshi just felt awkward. He hoped he didn't have to attend a lot of formal events.
Hotaru's other parents couldn't make it, but neither Michiru nor Hotaru had been bothered at their being unable to attend. Takeshi understood the reason when they arrived, and more than a few people recognized Michiru.
"Hotaru-chan said Michiru-san was a violinist," whispered Haru, as yet another person – this time a young man – came up to Michiru, face flushed and words stuttering. "But I didn't know she was this famous."
"Neither did I," Takeshi whispered back. He guessed it made sense that people who were into music would know more about famous violinists. If he saw a pro baseball player at a school baseball game, he might be excited too.
"It's an honor, really, and, oh wow, I'm sorry, I'm kind of acting stupid but I'm a huge fan and," the man cut himself off, as his face turned even redder. A tomato would have been jealous.
Michiru took it all in stride, a pleasant smile fixed on her face.
"Thank you," she said politely when he paused to breathe.
Somehow he flushed even deeper. That color couldn't be healthy or normal on someone.
Haru reached over. "Michiru-san," she said in a loud whisper. "Sorry to interrupt, but can I ask a question?"
This time the smile Hotaru's mother gave was more genuine, less fixed.
"Of course, Haru-chan. Excuse me," she added to the man, who was still too awe-struck to do anything else but nod. After a moment he finally snapped out of it and walked away, dazed even after being politely dismissed.
"Doesn't he know you have Haruka-san?" Haru mumbled angrily. It wasn't a lie that Haru had a question for Michiru.
Michiru giggled. "He was just a fan."
Haru gave her a look of exasperation. "Michiru-san, you never know what they might be actually thinking, or be up to. If he's a big fan like he said he was, then he should have known about Haruka-san."
A laugh burst out from Michiru's lips before she raised a hand to stifle it. Takeshi didn't know what she found funny, and from Haru's frown it was clear she didn't either.
"Never change, Haru-chan," Michiru said when she finally stopped laughing into the palm of her hand.
After the first song, he dozed off. The music was nice, sure, and they played far better than he ever could, but it was also kind of boring and definitely not his thing. While Takeshi could respect that there were people in this world different from him, he also couldn't hold most of them in high enough regard to fight the oncoming, suddenly desperate need to sleep they also brought with them.
There was only one person here whose performance Takeshi wouldn't sleep through, and they weren't her.
Haru just sighed and put the flowers in his arms, using him as the flower holder, and promised to wake him when Hotaru was on stage.
When a hand shook his shoulder, he snapped out of his sleep. Around him, people were applauding. Takeshi patted his face to make sure there wasn't any drool. "I'm up."
"Hotaru-chan's next," said Haru, resuming clapping. Careful to not drop or damage the flowers, Takeshi clapped too, to make up for sleeping through their performance. The two boys on the stage were leaving, carrying a trumpet and a cello.
"Komachi Mirai and Tomoe Hotaru," said the announcer, a middle-aged man in a suit. "With Danse Macabre."
There was his reason for being here. Takeshi clapped until his palms burned.
Seeing Michiru so used to all this fancy stuff and the attention was one thing.
Seeing Hotaru step onto stage, violin in hand, was another thing. It was like a line had been drawn, showing Takeshi all too clearly that they really did have very different worlds. She looked like this was all natural to her, the piano and pianist behind her, at the center of the spotlight.
Despite being the center of attention, Hotaru carried herself and the violin with poise, unaffected by all the eyes fixed on her like they had no weight.
"She looks dark," murmured Haru, and she was right. As if outside the hall it wasn't stifling with the heat of summer, Hotaru – and the other girl on the stage with her – was in black from head to toe. The dress wrapped around her neck, leaving her arms uncovered, and her skirt ended a little above her knees, but every bit of clothing she wore was black. Even her legs were covered with black tights.
In stark contrast, her face and her arms, the only parts of her completely uncovered, looked pale, almost bone white. Takeshi had good eyes, and his sight helped with baseball, but it also came in handy now.
Hotaru didn't look out to the audience. Her eyes were kept lowered, even as she raised the violin to her chin.
She didn't practice the song in front of them, wanting to save the impact for the concert, but she did tell them about the piece she would perform, a few days before today.
"Danse macabre?" Haru repeated.
Hotaru nodded. "It's French, for 'dance of death'."
Haru leaned back. "That sounds dangerous."
Takeshi was in agreement with her there, because as far as he knew dancing to the point of dying didn't sound all that fun.
Hotaru corrected them both. "It's based on an old story, where it was said that Death – or the personified version of . . . him . . . appears on Halloween and plays his violin while the dead rise from their graves to dance."
"Oh, that kind of dance of death," said Haru. "That still sounds kind of scary, though. Do they just – dance forever?"
Hotaru shook her head. "Only until the rooster crows, and then they go back until next Halloween."
Scary stories did fit with summer, so he thought it might fit. "But why are the dead dancing?"
At the time, Hotaru had smiled. "Because once you're dead, it doesn't matter who you were in life – whether you were a king, or a slave, or rich, or poor. Death – and the dance of death – is equal for all. Everyone is a part of it."
Now, a solemn, almost unfamiliar expression to her face, eyes closed or lowered to the strings in fierce concentration, Hotaru was playing the song the dead danced to, and the melody was every bit the eerie, chilling one Takeshi could see Death playing to make the dead dance, one night in the year. In the song that filled the stage, and the hall, she led, and the piano followed, and all eyes and ears were focused on her. No one danced to the violin, but it was like what she said – Death was equal to all. No matter who they were, they listened, caught up in the song she played and unable to look away or even think about anything else.
The eerie but not entirely unpleasant melody grew stronger and higher, and faster, and that ghostly feeling trailed down his spine until –
Abruptly, it broke off. Heart pounding, Takeshi watched as Hotaru's violin released a different song than before, a sound like a rooster crowing.
The piano picked up, and the last parts of the song, while still eerie, were the sounds of something receding. Slowly, bit by bit, with every last note Hotaru coaxed out and the piano played, the dead were returning to their graves.
And Takeshi was regaining the breath he didn't know he had been holding, slowly waking up to the world of the living, outside the one that Hotaru had created.
Hotaru held the bow and violin for a moment of silence, and then lowered both slowly. As the pianist came to join her, Takeshi nearly dropped the flowers from applauding so hard.
He couldn't fall back asleep after that, but the rest of the concert was kind of a blur. He didn't really remember much of it. More people played the violin and piano, as well as other instruments, but no one matched Hotaru in skill or impression.
When the concert was finally over, there was only one goal in mind for Takeshi and Haru. It took a bit to find her, through the crowd, but eventually, fighting through the waves of people – Haru using Takeshi as a body shield to break through and Takeshi using every last advantage his height gave him – they found Hotaru.
The girl at her side, taller and older, looked in their direction and her eyes widened until they rivalled dinner plates.
"Tomoe," she hissed, grabbing Hotaru's arm. She probably meant to keep her voice down, but it was very audible to them because she was too excited to properly control her volume. "Tomoe-chan. Tomoe. Pinch me and make it hurt."
Hotaru obliged and she winced. "Ow! Oh my god, I'm not dreaming. It's Kaiou Michiru. She's here. Why is she here? Oh my god. Ohmygod."
Michiru got a very mischievous look in her eyes, and she immediately sauntered over to Hotaru, pretending not to notice the pianist hyperventilating at her approach.
"Hotaru," she said warmly. "You were amazing. I told you that you should have faith in yourself."
"You did," Hotaru agreed. The girl at her side looked like she was about to have a heart attack, especially when Michiru leaned over to press a kiss on Hotaru's temple. "I'm just glad it's over, though."
"And you must be Komachi Mirai," she addressed the older girl. "Hotaru's told me so much about you."
The world could have ended and Komachi wouldn't have noticed. "Yes," she squeaked out.
"Thank you for being a good partner and senior to my daughter."
Hotaru slipped away to let the starstruck girl speak with her mother. "Haru, Takeshi!"
She was already holding a bouquet of flowers, most of them purple with a few yellow roses here and there.
That made Takeshi pause. His original plan was to give her the flowers he was holding, but was that okay to do if she already had flowers?
"I'm so glad that's over," Hotaru said, smile full of relief. "I was scared I'd mess up the whole time."
"I think Komachi-senpai's crying," noted Haru, peering at the girl with Michiru.
"Probably," agreed Hotaru, not even looking back. Her attention fell on the bouquet Takeshi was holding, somehow miraculously still intact, and she brightened like there could never be too many flowers. "Are those for me?"
Given an answer to his question, Takeshi handed her the flowers. Hotaru beamed and let them in the crook of her other arm so that she was cradling two bouquets. With a slight bend of her neck, she was able to bury her nose into them. "Thank you, they're beautiful."
"Haru picked them," he said, feeling the need to clarify. It was a premade bouquet they got, and while Haru picked one with purple flowers – the same one the first bouquet was mostly made up of, he could see that now – but it had a bunch of different flowers, and different colors too. Pink, white, yellow, orange, red, everything.
Their bouquet seemed wild, almost, next to the neat organized one she had, and against the black dress was eye-catchingly bright.
But not in a bad way. Takeshi was wrong. She hadn't looked natural on the stage. Or, well, she looked powerful and majestic and chilling, almost like Death playing the song that would make all the dead rise from their graves to dance, but here, smiling and hugging the flowers, she looked alive and happy.
She looked like Hotaru.
Takeshi reached up to tug at his tie again, because his collar was getting a little tight. It was really hot in here, probably because of all the people swarming around.
AN: Updating because I saw Aladdin yesterday and also, new banner on FEH.
Slow and steady wins the race (and gives shippers cancer).
Originally Hotaru was going to be in a dress with lace sleeves but after Googling violinist fashion and reading an interview with Anne-Sophie Mutter I went with the design in the artbook, so she's wearing a halter neck dress instead. If this chapter was from Haru's POV there would be a lot more about fashion, but from Takeshi all we get is the color contrast between the dress and her skin (Haru: FOR SHAME).
The song of the chapter is Danse Macabre, by Camille Saint-Saens. I like several versions, but this chapter is probably closer to the one by Chloe Trevor and Jonathan Tsay or Clara Cernat and Thierry Huillet. I adore the one by Sefa Emre Ilikli, and how he ends it at the dramatic part, but for the sake of the theme of Hotaru's powers it was important that the dead all returned to their graves at the break of dawn instead of staying out.
Kawahira sent the bouquet. He came in to listen when she performed, and then left. The bouquet is purple irises ('compliments') and yellow roses ('platonic love and appreciation'). He's old-fashioned, worked as a composer before (see previous chapter, Fiume) and from the Golden Kingdom, roses are a must.
Setsuna and Haruka couldn't 'officially' make it because Haruka had a race in Europe and Setsuna had a lecture. Unofficially, teleporting is a thing.
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
Michiru: *has dealt with obsessed fans, stalkers and more than a few people who don't understand the word 'no* This is just a nervous, genuine fan.
Haru: *Worried someone trying to break up the most beautiful OTP she has* *Does the Girl Rescue*
Michiru: *Didn't need it, but appreciates that Hotaru's friend is willing to step in* What a Good Girl.
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
Tsuna: Man, all of Longchamp's girlfriends look like they're not from this planet.
Every sailor soldier on Earth: Excuse me?
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
Fake it till you make it
Hotaru: *quietly panicking because stage fright*
Takeshi: Whoa she looks like a natural.
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
Fake it till you make it 2
Takeshi now: man, dressing up is so stuffy
Takeshi TYL: *fighting people trying to kill him in a suit with a sword and box weapons*
+ﾟ*｡:ﾟ+
Sweet Dreams~