Chapter 2: Musical Greetings
Walking into the music wing, I saw a glint of blond hair peeking out from
below the crowd, and when I say below, I mean low. He looked like a little
kid, and was considerably smaller than any other guy I had encountered in
the hallway. This kid was smiling, but not genuinely. Duo, being a
trained.ehem, partly trained angel, could tell these things, and he could
also tell that this person was kind.
And then, all of a sudden I felt a really weird presence in my mind, like somebody was hacking into my mind, almost. I hate it when they do that! Every angel is allowed to poke into other people's 'unprotected' minds and take in any information they'd like. It makes me mad enough that my wings could molt! This time, it was Zechs.
"Listen, Duo, that's your man." I could hear Zech's voice in my head.
(Man, what's he doing in my HEAD? I don't know what heck he's talking about. That little cutie is my man? Yeah, I wish.wait, does he mean the one I'm guarding?)
"Duo," He said again, "You idiot, the blond-haired 'cutie' is actually Quatre Rabarba Winner and he's the one you're aiming to protect, so go make friends with him or something!"
(Damn! He can read my thoughts! He's sure in a bad mood, though. I hope his love life isn't falling apart or something, because that would really suck for me. He'd be like this all the time and he'll probably send me to Hell without a second thought- first mistake I make.)
"I'll kindly thank you not to think about my personal affairs, and please concentrate on your mission, Duo. You must not fail your mission."
(Oops! Gomen! Yeah, I know, 'don't fail the mission'), I thought with a sigh.
"I'm going to go now, because I've started peering into your subconscious thoughts. Duo, you have a sick and twisted mind, did you know that."
(Yeah, I knew that, but what the Hell are you doing in my subconscious thoughts?!)
"Just making sure I didn't make a mistake, but I'm too afraid, to look further."
(.oh, right, those thoughts! Be afraid, be very afraid...)
"Duo, do me a favor."
(Nani?)
"Stop thinking."
(Of all the nerve!)
"Goodbye, Duo, and good luck."
I then felt the presence of Zechs being uplifted from my mind, and I was free to think as I chose once again. That cute little blond guy, huh?
I watched as Quatre walked into the music room. Great! He was in my first class! Perfect timing, Zechs! I followed after him and into the music room where I was greeted by the teachers and students.
Everyone was getting out their instruments, and I figured I'd better learn how to play something, and fast! Oh wait, I thought. Every angel knows how to play the harp, duh! I'd almost forgotten about that. I played with the honors harp choir, even. Thank goodness I remembered!
"Oh you must be our new student." A teacher with frightening eyebrows came up to me and introduced himself as Mr. Kushrenada. It took me a while to get his name straight.
"My name's Duo, Duo Maxwell." I pronounced proudly to my teacher and the rest of the class.
"Well, Mr. Maxwell, what instrument do you play?" Mr. Kushrenada asked.
"I play the harp."
"Wonderful!" my teacher beamed, "We don't have any harpists yet. Why don't you take a seat over by Mr. Winner while I go get you a harp," He pointed over to the blond-haired, blue-eyed person I was assigned to protect, "he's a wonderful violinist, and he'll be sure you get off on the right foot. This is so exciting!" He lit up as he left the room.
I wandered over to the young Arab, who was still smiling since he came in from the hallway.
"Hey!" I addressed him, and he turned around, looking a bit startled, "My name's Duo. I'm new to this school and Mr. Kushrenada (I fumbled over the word) told me that I should sit by you."
"Hello, Duo." He had a very polite, high, and almost aristocratic voice, "My name is Quatre Raberba Winner. Glad to meet you." He ended with a smile.
Quatre seemed like a really nice guy. I knew that since he was so kind, it would be extremely difficult to help him. Kind people are very sensitive, you know.
"So, Quatre, Mr. 'what's his name' says you play the violin. How long have you been playing?" He smiled at my reference to our teacher as I saw him take the violin from his case, apply his chinrest, and rub rosin onto his bow.
"About ten years, now, I guess." He blushed slightly.
"Wow! You must be really good! The violin is a very beautiful instrument, for very kind people. It suits you well. Why did you take up the violin to begin with?"
He blushed again, but then he closed his eyes as he put the violin on his shoulder,
"The soul of outer space told me to."
"The soul of outer space?" Ok, whatever.
"Yes, the soul of outer space." He paused for a minute and then opened his eyes again,
"And what do you play?"
"The harp. Mr. Kushrenada's getting a school one for me, now." I answered warmly.
"How long have you been playing for?"
Uh, oh. Panic time. My own question turned against me! How old was I supposed to be, again? It's not as if I could answer truthfully. 'Yeah, Quatre I've been playing for about 63 years. Ever since the day I died.' NOT!!
"Same as you, I guess." I answered, trying to lie with dignity. I didn't feel good about it. "So, Quatre, do you by any chance know anyone named Trowa or Wufei? I met them this morning."
"Yeah!" the blond boy opened his blue eyes with surprise, "I know them. Trowa's in this class, too, except I haven't seen him yet."
"Do you know if that guy, Trowa speaks or communicates.perhaps sign language? Anything at all?" I asked in mocking of my rescuer.
"Trowa doesn't talk much. He's in my gym class, and he spends most of the time with his arms crossed on the bleachers. Don't get me wrong, he's very athletic, he just doesn't like gym, but he got very excited when the teacher mentioned gymnastics."
I sweatdropped. "Gymnastics, huh?"
"And Wufei's in my gym class, too. He just sits on the sidelines, arms crossed alongside Trowa, usually muttering something about injustice."
"Yeah, tell me about it," I recalled my rather frightening conversation with the Chinese boy. "He needs a serious attitude adjustment."
"Uh huh." The Arabian pilot looked down at his feet, not wanting to talk about his friends behind their backs, but at the same time knowing what I said was true. I didn't press him any further.
Just then, the teacher came into class with a kind of beat-up old harp. He walked over to me, dragging the harp alongside him.
"This old school-owned one will have to do," he smiled appoligetically, "That is, unless you would prefer to bring your own harp into school." (yeah, right.)
"This'll do just fine. Thanks very much for going out of your way to find it for me."
"So, Duo, he said, pushing the harp forward to me, "Let's see what you can do, just so that I know where you stand."
I hadn't played in a while, so I was very nervous sitting down in my chair in preparation of playing the instrument that easily towered above me. I didn't want to make a bad impression, especially to Quatre. Even though he would never know, fate permitting, that I was his guardian angel, I didn't want to seem like a wimp. I was going to give it all I had.
Gliding my hands across the first few notes of a piece I had once known so well made it all come back to me little by little. I went over artistic cadenzas and made my music sound so bubbly that I would swear I was walking on the clouds again. I closed my eyes and let my fingers guide me through the last few measures of the piece, and as I opened them again, striking the final note airily, I found that the whole room had stopped and was staring right at me.
I guess I shouldn't have been surprised in the jaw-dropping, awe-stricken faces that lined the room, seeing as I was the youngest to ever grace one of ten honorary harpist positions in the court of heaven. The room, after they were silent for a minute or two, broke into whispers of praise and jealousy. Quatre, I noticed, stood wide-eyed and smiling, clapping his hands along with Mr. Kushrenada. "Duo Maxwell," my teacher addressed me, "where on earth did you learn to play like that?!"
"Play like what?" I asked innocently, knowing that if I told him the truth, they'd send me to a mental institution, or worse, Zechs would send me down there (*shiver*).
"Don't be smart with me, Mr. Maxwell. You're playing was amazing, almost unearthly, and flawless.there's nothing I could possibly teach you in this class!" I must have looked sad, because my teacher's astounded eyes softened as I perked up and said, "Maybe not, but I could work with some other students, right? I've never done anything other than solos. Please let me stay in your class, I really do love playing the harp." I pleaded. "I didn't mean that you weren't allowed in the class, only that it might injure your pride." I looked at him puzzlingly and he continued, "Of course, Mr. Winner here is an exceptional violist, and Mr. Barton over there is quite superior on the flute," He made a notion to Trowa, "I'm sure that they'd be more than happy to play with you." Quatre looked up at the mention of his name, and Trowa did likewise. They both looked at me, and marveled at the suggestion their teacher made that they might be able to rival my abilities on their own instruments.
"Hey Q!" I waved at Quatre, hoping he didn't treat me any differently even though I was mysteriously fabulous of the harp. He began walking over to me.
"Troooo!!!" I belted and lengthened the word, cupping my hands outward beside my mouth to make sure he heard me, so that he could guide himself to me by sound. I wasn't sure if he'd actually be able to see me, you know, under all that hair.
They both were beside me once I had finished thinking about Trowa's hair, and I smiled at them both.
"So, whadiya say? Would you guys play something with me...I know breaking into ensemble groups is not in the course requirements, but I'm sure Mr. 'what's his name' will give us extra credit." I grinned even wider thinking of the possibilities. "Of course, Duo. I'd love to play with you!" The blond towed over a stand excitedly as the stoic one nodded silently. They both got their instruments and we tuned-up to each other.
The teacher came back momentarily with a beautiful piece for violin, harp, and flute that I recalled playing once before. We went through it once, sight-reading. Quatre was excellent at the violin, and most likely had private lessons from a very young age because his style was pure technique, flawless technique, but almost no musicality.
Trowa, on the other hand, was almost the opposite. He was clearly a natural at the flute, but had almost no knowledge of technique and his skills were extremely limited. He most likely had never taken lessons, but his music was by far more beautiful than Quatre's. He really put his soul into it, like I did, and for one who never shows his feelings through speech; I saw that he was just as beautiful a person as Quatre through his music (and someone would probably never see this otherwise).
I guess we were friends by the end of class, (as much as loudmouth like me could be friends with an innocent cutie like Quatre and hot stoic like Trowa). I passed the next classes in anticipation of lunch where I would surely see them again.
And then, all of a sudden I felt a really weird presence in my mind, like somebody was hacking into my mind, almost. I hate it when they do that! Every angel is allowed to poke into other people's 'unprotected' minds and take in any information they'd like. It makes me mad enough that my wings could molt! This time, it was Zechs.
"Listen, Duo, that's your man." I could hear Zech's voice in my head.
(Man, what's he doing in my HEAD? I don't know what heck he's talking about. That little cutie is my man? Yeah, I wish.wait, does he mean the one I'm guarding?)
"Duo," He said again, "You idiot, the blond-haired 'cutie' is actually Quatre Rabarba Winner and he's the one you're aiming to protect, so go make friends with him or something!"
(Damn! He can read my thoughts! He's sure in a bad mood, though. I hope his love life isn't falling apart or something, because that would really suck for me. He'd be like this all the time and he'll probably send me to Hell without a second thought- first mistake I make.)
"I'll kindly thank you not to think about my personal affairs, and please concentrate on your mission, Duo. You must not fail your mission."
(Oops! Gomen! Yeah, I know, 'don't fail the mission'), I thought with a sigh.
"I'm going to go now, because I've started peering into your subconscious thoughts. Duo, you have a sick and twisted mind, did you know that."
(Yeah, I knew that, but what the Hell are you doing in my subconscious thoughts?!)
"Just making sure I didn't make a mistake, but I'm too afraid, to look further."
(.oh, right, those thoughts! Be afraid, be very afraid...)
"Duo, do me a favor."
(Nani?)
"Stop thinking."
(Of all the nerve!)
"Goodbye, Duo, and good luck."
I then felt the presence of Zechs being uplifted from my mind, and I was free to think as I chose once again. That cute little blond guy, huh?
I watched as Quatre walked into the music room. Great! He was in my first class! Perfect timing, Zechs! I followed after him and into the music room where I was greeted by the teachers and students.
Everyone was getting out their instruments, and I figured I'd better learn how to play something, and fast! Oh wait, I thought. Every angel knows how to play the harp, duh! I'd almost forgotten about that. I played with the honors harp choir, even. Thank goodness I remembered!
"Oh you must be our new student." A teacher with frightening eyebrows came up to me and introduced himself as Mr. Kushrenada. It took me a while to get his name straight.
"My name's Duo, Duo Maxwell." I pronounced proudly to my teacher and the rest of the class.
"Well, Mr. Maxwell, what instrument do you play?" Mr. Kushrenada asked.
"I play the harp."
"Wonderful!" my teacher beamed, "We don't have any harpists yet. Why don't you take a seat over by Mr. Winner while I go get you a harp," He pointed over to the blond-haired, blue-eyed person I was assigned to protect, "he's a wonderful violinist, and he'll be sure you get off on the right foot. This is so exciting!" He lit up as he left the room.
I wandered over to the young Arab, who was still smiling since he came in from the hallway.
"Hey!" I addressed him, and he turned around, looking a bit startled, "My name's Duo. I'm new to this school and Mr. Kushrenada (I fumbled over the word) told me that I should sit by you."
"Hello, Duo." He had a very polite, high, and almost aristocratic voice, "My name is Quatre Raberba Winner. Glad to meet you." He ended with a smile.
Quatre seemed like a really nice guy. I knew that since he was so kind, it would be extremely difficult to help him. Kind people are very sensitive, you know.
"So, Quatre, Mr. 'what's his name' says you play the violin. How long have you been playing?" He smiled at my reference to our teacher as I saw him take the violin from his case, apply his chinrest, and rub rosin onto his bow.
"About ten years, now, I guess." He blushed slightly.
"Wow! You must be really good! The violin is a very beautiful instrument, for very kind people. It suits you well. Why did you take up the violin to begin with?"
He blushed again, but then he closed his eyes as he put the violin on his shoulder,
"The soul of outer space told me to."
"The soul of outer space?" Ok, whatever.
"Yes, the soul of outer space." He paused for a minute and then opened his eyes again,
"And what do you play?"
"The harp. Mr. Kushrenada's getting a school one for me, now." I answered warmly.
"How long have you been playing for?"
Uh, oh. Panic time. My own question turned against me! How old was I supposed to be, again? It's not as if I could answer truthfully. 'Yeah, Quatre I've been playing for about 63 years. Ever since the day I died.' NOT!!
"Same as you, I guess." I answered, trying to lie with dignity. I didn't feel good about it. "So, Quatre, do you by any chance know anyone named Trowa or Wufei? I met them this morning."
"Yeah!" the blond boy opened his blue eyes with surprise, "I know them. Trowa's in this class, too, except I haven't seen him yet."
"Do you know if that guy, Trowa speaks or communicates.perhaps sign language? Anything at all?" I asked in mocking of my rescuer.
"Trowa doesn't talk much. He's in my gym class, and he spends most of the time with his arms crossed on the bleachers. Don't get me wrong, he's very athletic, he just doesn't like gym, but he got very excited when the teacher mentioned gymnastics."
I sweatdropped. "Gymnastics, huh?"
"And Wufei's in my gym class, too. He just sits on the sidelines, arms crossed alongside Trowa, usually muttering something about injustice."
"Yeah, tell me about it," I recalled my rather frightening conversation with the Chinese boy. "He needs a serious attitude adjustment."
"Uh huh." The Arabian pilot looked down at his feet, not wanting to talk about his friends behind their backs, but at the same time knowing what I said was true. I didn't press him any further.
Just then, the teacher came into class with a kind of beat-up old harp. He walked over to me, dragging the harp alongside him.
"This old school-owned one will have to do," he smiled appoligetically, "That is, unless you would prefer to bring your own harp into school." (yeah, right.)
"This'll do just fine. Thanks very much for going out of your way to find it for me."
"So, Duo, he said, pushing the harp forward to me, "Let's see what you can do, just so that I know where you stand."
I hadn't played in a while, so I was very nervous sitting down in my chair in preparation of playing the instrument that easily towered above me. I didn't want to make a bad impression, especially to Quatre. Even though he would never know, fate permitting, that I was his guardian angel, I didn't want to seem like a wimp. I was going to give it all I had.
Gliding my hands across the first few notes of a piece I had once known so well made it all come back to me little by little. I went over artistic cadenzas and made my music sound so bubbly that I would swear I was walking on the clouds again. I closed my eyes and let my fingers guide me through the last few measures of the piece, and as I opened them again, striking the final note airily, I found that the whole room had stopped and was staring right at me.
I guess I shouldn't have been surprised in the jaw-dropping, awe-stricken faces that lined the room, seeing as I was the youngest to ever grace one of ten honorary harpist positions in the court of heaven. The room, after they were silent for a minute or two, broke into whispers of praise and jealousy. Quatre, I noticed, stood wide-eyed and smiling, clapping his hands along with Mr. Kushrenada. "Duo Maxwell," my teacher addressed me, "where on earth did you learn to play like that?!"
"Play like what?" I asked innocently, knowing that if I told him the truth, they'd send me to a mental institution, or worse, Zechs would send me down there (*shiver*).
"Don't be smart with me, Mr. Maxwell. You're playing was amazing, almost unearthly, and flawless.there's nothing I could possibly teach you in this class!" I must have looked sad, because my teacher's astounded eyes softened as I perked up and said, "Maybe not, but I could work with some other students, right? I've never done anything other than solos. Please let me stay in your class, I really do love playing the harp." I pleaded. "I didn't mean that you weren't allowed in the class, only that it might injure your pride." I looked at him puzzlingly and he continued, "Of course, Mr. Winner here is an exceptional violist, and Mr. Barton over there is quite superior on the flute," He made a notion to Trowa, "I'm sure that they'd be more than happy to play with you." Quatre looked up at the mention of his name, and Trowa did likewise. They both looked at me, and marveled at the suggestion their teacher made that they might be able to rival my abilities on their own instruments.
"Hey Q!" I waved at Quatre, hoping he didn't treat me any differently even though I was mysteriously fabulous of the harp. He began walking over to me.
"Troooo!!!" I belted and lengthened the word, cupping my hands outward beside my mouth to make sure he heard me, so that he could guide himself to me by sound. I wasn't sure if he'd actually be able to see me, you know, under all that hair.
They both were beside me once I had finished thinking about Trowa's hair, and I smiled at them both.
"So, whadiya say? Would you guys play something with me...I know breaking into ensemble groups is not in the course requirements, but I'm sure Mr. 'what's his name' will give us extra credit." I grinned even wider thinking of the possibilities. "Of course, Duo. I'd love to play with you!" The blond towed over a stand excitedly as the stoic one nodded silently. They both got their instruments and we tuned-up to each other.
The teacher came back momentarily with a beautiful piece for violin, harp, and flute that I recalled playing once before. We went through it once, sight-reading. Quatre was excellent at the violin, and most likely had private lessons from a very young age because his style was pure technique, flawless technique, but almost no musicality.
Trowa, on the other hand, was almost the opposite. He was clearly a natural at the flute, but had almost no knowledge of technique and his skills were extremely limited. He most likely had never taken lessons, but his music was by far more beautiful than Quatre's. He really put his soul into it, like I did, and for one who never shows his feelings through speech; I saw that he was just as beautiful a person as Quatre through his music (and someone would probably never see this otherwise).
I guess we were friends by the end of class, (as much as loudmouth like me could be friends with an innocent cutie like Quatre and hot stoic like Trowa). I passed the next classes in anticipation of lunch where I would surely see them again.