Heartstrings and a Melody By Janie Hart
Once upon a time, there was a violinist.
"Hijiri-sempai!" called out one of the lowerclassmen after class. "Come play for us!"
"Gomen," Hijiri replied, smiling at their eager faces. "Not today. How about tomorrow?"
From the moment he touched a violin, he could play unlike any other.
"Busy, sempai?"
"Ah," he nodded. "I have to meet with someone from the music company. I think they want me to play for one of their singers."
This young violinist was destined to be one of the best musicians in the world, and in his travel through his lifetime he would encounter a number of strange beings and creatures and influence an endless number of people.
"A singer? Permanently?" He, Yuka, was wide-eyed. "Wah!! Are you leaving us, sempai?!"
"No, no, just for a song," he reasurred him.
A lord of demons hunted him. Angels of death saved him. Even so young, he had experienced the loss of a loved one. The demon was defeated, and he was free to play again. Even so, he was not completely safe.
"Jaa ne!" the student cried.
"Ja," said Hijiri as he exited the gates of their presigious school, violin case in hand. Suddenly, someone took the case from him.
"What do we have here?" the person said.
He had a rival, the son of a nobleman, who was jealous that such talent would befall such a lowly peasant.
"Give that back, bastard," Hijiri growled.
"Tch! I'm the bastard?" Saionji sneered at him. "I just wanted to see your intrument. You've been through so many."
"No thanks to you," he answered. "Done playing with fire? Or are you going to destroy the auditorium again?"
"That wasn't me!" Saionji denied angrily.
"We all know it was," Hijiri said, delighted that the other teen was pissed off. A month ago, the school's auditorium had burned down - but because of the demon Sagatanas. But because of Saionji's widely known hatred of the musician, everyone thought he did it so Hijiri wouldn't play at the concert. (They held it at another school instead.) Hijiri didn't want to correct them.
Saionji set the case on the sidewalk and took the violin out.
"Hey, be careful with that!" Hijiri protested, reaching out.
He side-stepped the violinist, setting the instrument under his chin in preparation to play. "I will, I will, I just want to try it out," he promised smoothly, lips still twitched in a smirk. Saionji played, and he was very good - several people stopped to listen and they clapped when he finished the short piece.
"Not bad, you were off near the end," Hijiri said grudgingly.
"It's your violin, it's old," Saionji complained, finally giving it back. "I don't know how you play with this junk."
Hijiri placed it up to his own chin, smiling thinly. "It's not the instrument. Just the player." And then he played - and it was beautiful. Anyone that could hear stopped what they were doing to listen, and they cheered when he was done.
"Show off," Saionji growled, tossing his dark hair which almost reached his shoulders. "Let me see that violin again!"
"No way," he answered, skipping awkwardly back and away. He stumbled, starting to fall back onto the road.
Except, it wasn't the rival he had to fear.
A truck blazed down the road, too close to stop in time. Hijiri's eyes widened, dark green, and he clutched his violin.
Then there was a tug at his shirt, and the force pulled him back from the street and out of harm's way. Saionji had grabbed him, and they tumbled back onto the sidewalk.
"What the HELL are you doing, idiot?" Saionji berated, pushing Hijiri off of him and then standing. "Dancing out onto the road?"
Hijiri sat on the ground for a full minute, trying to get his heart to settle after the close encounter. "I.. I..." He looked up. "...Thank-you."
The other boy paused for a second, giving another sniff before glancing away. "Don't get mushy on me, sempai. I was just trying to save the violin. I figure I owed you that much."
"Heh, bastard," Hijiri said, though without the venom he usually had. "What good is a violin if I'm dead? But you were never one to think too far ahead, anyway..."
"Oi! What's with that mouth? What a thing to say with your savior!"
"Savior?" Hijiri laughed. "Maybe I was better off with the truck."
"Anyway..." he grumbled, sliding the violin case over with a light kick. "Here's the case. Don't go running out to busy roads again, all right? Idiot." Saionji walked away, hands in pockets.
"..." Hijiri placed back his violin and stared after the retreating figure. He stood, too, and walked away, heading to his meeting.
Across the street, a woman with coal-black eyes watched...
~_._~
Notes: Yay! This was fun.