Counterpoint Chapter 3: Afflito, con sordino, an escaflowne fanfic

I think I mentioned that this story wouldn't come as easily or as quickly as AoF, and that's partially from the fact that I have no life or time right now, cuz I've got so much going on with school and stuff. So that's the only explanation you're going to get as to why this is so late in coming.

Also, I feel the need to mention that this story is probably going to come out a lot like just a bunch of snapshots of days within Hitomi's life… not really close in sequence, like this chapter is at least a few days after the previous chapter. Maybe more. I'm not really certain, and I don't mean to be. There's not a definitive timeline to this story, other than that it's over the course of her senior year (and each chapter is in order, don't worry, I don't skip around unless it's clear it's a flashback). So don't think all these things happen one after the other. Because they don't.

Also, this chapter isn't as lighthearted as the others were. Because, no matter how cheerful a person may be, no matter how lighthearted they may perpetually be, there are always some dark moments. But it's not all depressing; I wouldn't do that to you. Not with this story, anyway.

Thanks to all those that reviewed before – I don't remember who or what to say to you, other than I really felt good about your positive feedback and that's why I haven't entirely given up on this story.

All that being said… on to the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne, though I do own my characters.

Afflito, con sordino

Afflicted, sad, melancholy; muted

Tap ta-tap-ta tap.

The rain sounded almost musical… like God had placed a certain rhythm to it. The water weaved in odd patterns down the glass, sometimes conjoining with another rivulet, sometimes branching out again. The leaves beyond the windowpane quivered with each new drop that struck the glossy green tops, rolling off of it like water off of a duck's back.

A similar drop rolled down a flushed cheek as lashes swept emerald eyes closed.

A strangled sigh escaped Hitomi's mouth as she rested her forehead against the cool glass.

She should've known. It had been so obvious, hadn't it?

Apparently to everyone but her.

Her tired eyes watched the dreary day once more. Odd, how moments like this always hit me on these kind of days. Or maybe it's just my state of mind that makes this so gloomy, and if it were sunny it still wouldn't be cheerful to me.

She shrugged half-heartedly, and listened to the song pouring through the speakers on her computer.

Oh, why do the words have to be so true…

"I've dreamed of this so long,
This used to feel so strong...
Now I wait,
Wish these thoughts would go away,
I hope I dream of you,
'Cuz it's taking my life away.
No, I don't hate,
But these thoughts won't go away,
I hope I dream of you,
'Cuz it's taking my life away…"

She sniffed, hating her weakness, yet knowing that if she cried now, there would be less chance of being caught in public during a weak moment. Better to get it out before anyone can tell.

She'd had a crush on Amano for… it had to be almost a year, she supposed. A hopeless, idealistic, childish… wonderful, heart-stopping… pointless crush. He had played trumpet in band last year, and had graduated (miraculously, she thought with a twitch of a smile) and gone off to college. Well, he hadn't actually gone that far… just to the community college. But she hadn't lost contact with him… and, for a moment, she reflected that it wouldn't have hurt so much if she'd just lost contact with him after graduation. She quickly rejected the thought though, because they'd had too much fun together to dismiss it.

But why, oh, why did he have to like her?

It's not like she wasn't worth it or anything. Hitomi knew Naora very well, and she knew that Naora was likeable, nice, pretty, and everything a guy could want.

Which is the crux of the problem, isn't it?

She folded a shirt that had been draped haphazardly over her bedpost. It wasn't the first time she had felt unlikable, and it probably wouldn't be the last. You'd think I would get used to it. She also knew that, come tomorrow or the next day, she'd soon realize how many friends she did have, and that she really wasn't necessarily 'unlikable'. But right now, I can't really help it.

I should've seen it coming. I mean, Yukari asked me once if Amano liked her. And I didn't even think of it. I just ignored it. But I should've known better. I should've been able to steel my heart against this before anything happened to shatter it.

She swiped irritably at a tear that stained her skin. "Stop crying," she muttered to herself. "He's not worth it." She squeezed her eyes shut, and curled up on the chair at her desk. But he is, her mind insisted. He is so much. She swallowed hard, knowing she couldn't deny it.

"It shouldn't hurt this much," she said softly. "It's not like you were ever dating. It's not like he even liked you back anyway. It was always one-sided. But now you know where you stand, right? Now can you finally give up hope and get on with life?" Shaking her head violently, she straightened from the chair and strode to the bathroom to splash water on her face. "I'm going insane," she muttered. "Talking to myself…" She looked up at herself in the mirror, and grimaced at the redness underlining her eyes. It's a good thing I'm not going anywhere tonight.

Biting her lip to keep everything under control, she brushed her hair back from her face as she sat on the bed. Another tear fell down her cheek. She didn't like to consider herself a crybaby, and truth be told, she rarely cried like this. But the aching loneliness within her chest wouldn't subside with the tears. It almost felt like it was growing with each breath she took. Ridiculous. More tears came, and succumbing to them, she curled on her side on the bed, burying her face within her downy pillow. "I know it's not all hopeless," she mumbled to herself, her voice muffled by the pillow. "I know that eventually I will move on, I will like other people, I will not hurt. I know all of that." She sniffed hard as she shoved her face further into the pillows and said brokenly, "But it still hurts so much…"

Her sobs were captured by the pillow, as the rain fell as plentifully as her tears. The fluttering leaves brushed the windowpane gently, but they weren't noticed.

"I hope I dream of you… 'cuz it's taking my life away…"

* * *

Dut du-gu-du-dut dut DAT!

Hitomi grimaced, and buried her head farther into the crook of her arm. Why does Van have to have the same lunch as me?

She sat at the table in the band room facing the wall, trying her best to take a nap… or at least hide the sadness that tended to infiltrate her conventionally sunny disposition today. But that was nearly impossible with Van's perpetual drumming.

"You don't think you've practiced enough?" she complained, not moving from her position.

"You know what Mr. Hiraki always says," his mischievous voice floated back, "Don't practice until you get it right. Practice until you can't get it wrong."

"Oh, shut up," she grumbled. "I haven't heard a bit of difference in any of your playing this whole bloody time."

"That's because you're not a percussionist." Hitomi felt a smile touch her lips as the rattle of the snares didn't return to the room. Letting out a breath, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to retreat into herself, but was rudely jarred back to reality as the table shook beneath her.

"Wha-" She turned her head to find Van sitting by the perpendicular side of the table, with his feet propped up and his chair balancing on the two back legs. Rolling her eyes, she brushed the hair back from her face and propped her head on her hands. "What do you want?"

"What's wrong with you today, anyway?" he asked curiously. "You're not this irritable."

"Just… stuff." Hitomi shrugged as if that explained everything.

He raised an eyebrow. "'Stuff', eh?"

"Yeah. It's nothing I'm going to tell you about."

"I figured as much." He began drumming on his leg with his sticks, his head bobbing slightly with the beat. He looked slightly beyond her (though what he could be looking at was a mystery) and she tried to stifle a smile at his face. His bottom lip was hanging down just enough that he looked perpetually slack-jawed, and his expression just looked so… idiotic, that she couldn't help but laugh.

He blinked, and looked back at her. "What's so funny?"

"Your face," she said with a genuine grin. "You're the reason for all the percussionist jokes."

"What jokes?"

" 'How do you know the stage is level? When the drool comes out of both sides of the drummer's mouth.' Those kind of jokes."

"I wasn't drooling."

"If I hadn't said anything, I'll bet in a few moments you would've been. Your mouth was just hanging open. Plus you bob your head to the beat."

He grinned ruefully. "Yeah. Bad habit. I've been trying to break it."

"You've been so successful."

"Hey, I've got something for you." He reached inside his pocket and pulled out his fist with the middle finger extended.

She shook her head and looked away with a chuckle. "What are you going to do when you do that to someone who's actually offended?"

"I'll do it again."

* * *

Rat-tat-tat-trrrrr-TAT.

From the waist down, Hitomi turned sharply to the right and followed the line she was part of while her feet kept time along with the constant snare drumbeat. As she played, she absently hoped she was walking in a straight line. Looking out of the corner of her eyes, she made sure her shoulders were even with Keiko's, who played euphonium next to her. On the next downbeat, her hips twisted again, and now she was marching at a slight angle forward, trying her best to avoid hitting the flutist in front of her who was marching backward. The merging of the lines successfully completed, she continued marching forward until she reached a spot about 3 yards from the 40 yard line and stood still, being granted a reprieve as the trumpets played some victorious fanfare. While she paused to breathe, she kept count and came in on a loud, low brass melody line as she began to march the opposite direction and form another formation. At long last, they reached the final set and played the final four measures, hearing the loud brassy sound echo over the football field after they'd finished playing.

Her arms trembling from exhaustion, she sorely wished she could put her horn down, but knew Mr. Hiraki would have a fit if someone didn't stay at attention. She wondered how Keiko was doing beside her. True, the instrument was heavier by a bit, but then she could also discreetly rest much of the weight on her hip whenever they were stopped and especially whenever they weren't playing. Ruhm stood just beyond her, the sousaphone that wrapped around him looking smaller than it usually seemed due to his massive, wolfish frame. The drummers picked up a cadence again, and this time when Hitomi made her sharp turn, she did so with her whole body, and followed Gaddes, her fellow trombonist, off the field, their feet in synch with the steady beat lovingly provided by Van. After the line curled into a circle on the track that surrounded the field, they stopped marching at the sound of Shimei's "Band – Halt!" Finally, the drum major shouted, "Band – to the ready!" and Hitomi was able to drop her trombone into a position perpendicular to the ground, using muscles that weren't straining yet.

Mr. Hiraki walked into the middle of the circle smiling, and he said, "At ease." Almost immediately, everyone's instrument dropped down to hang low off of their hands, and the posture instantly degenerated. "Alright, you guys, that was great. You're definitely ready for Saturday's game. Next week we'll start learning a new song, though, to end the show. But since you did so well, I'm letting you guys out early today." A collective cheer arose in the band. "I'll see you guys Saturday. Shimei, go for it."

Standing with his hands behind his back, Shimei bellowed with authority, "Band – to the ready!" Everybody assumed a position with their instruments down and head bowed. "Band – atten-hut!" 60 heads snapped up in unison, instruments also reaching a less comfortable position at the same time. "Band – dis-missed!" Everyone else shouted, "G-H-S!" A long silence fell over the band as everyone stood, ramrod straight, frozen in attention. Van's voice shattered the silence with a "Break!" and immediately everyone ran off, whooping and shouting.

It was the same thing that happened after ever marching band rehearsal, and Hitomi only whooped and hollered for the first couple of seconds. She'd rather just walk back to the school. Gaddes grinned boyishly beside her. "You're not gonna run?"

She smiled back, her eyes watching the portion of the band – mostly underclassmen – racing towards the back door. "Heck, no. That's for the young."

"And those with less bulky instruments."

She turned at the voice to laugh at Van. "I'm sure you could run if you really wanted to."

He shook his head. "I've tried it, and believe me… there's almost no way you can really run with a marching snare hanging off of you."

"Try a sousaphone," Ruhm remarked.

"It's one of the few times I wish I played a smaller instrument," Keiko said mock-wistfully, her euphonium snug under her arm.

Hitomi grimaced. "I've never felt that urge." Then a self-deprecating smile curved her mouth. "Well, aside from when I have to walk a bloody mile to my car in the parking lot though gaggles of people that don't know enough to move when something large is coming through."

Van grinned. "That happens to me all the time."

She shoved his shoulder. "Shut up."

He turned an innocent face towards her. "What?"

Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, she looked away from him and opened the door wide enough for Ruhm to be able to duck through with the sousa. Keiko followed suit, along with Gaddes, and then Van came up. Hitomi followed him into the school, and he said, "So, you going to do your homework with all this extra time we've been given?"

She shook her head. "Gee, is that sarcasm I hear in your words?"

His eyes twinkled. "Oh, no. Never."

Feeling her lips curve in a smile, she said, "I don't really have a lot. You?"

"My mom's not coming to pick me up for an hour."

She frowned. "What're you going to do?"

"Homework."

Her frown changed positions slightly. "No, seriously, what are you going to do?"

He looked suspiciously at her. "Was that a crack?"

"What makes you think that?" she said, her eyes glittering impishly.

"I can't imagine." Returning her mirth, he said, "I was going to go to the Subway in the shopping center across the street. Pick up something to eat. I'm starved." In agreement, his stomach growled.

"I can give you a ride there, if you want," Hitomi offered. "You don't really live in my direction."

"I'm not one to reject those kind of generous offers."

"I doubt you reject many offers," she quipped.

He merely grinned roguishly back. "Only the ones from ugly people."

She laughed.

* * *

"Hold on, I have to put my instrument in the trunk."

Van stood beside her car, looking at it appreciatively. "A Nissan 240 SX? Pretty sporty."

"You know about cars?"

"Not really."

She shrugged. "Neither do I. But it runs nice, and it looks nice, so I figure it's a good car."

"I suppose that works."

She unlocked her door and slid in behind the driver's seat, depressing the clutch to start the motor. Once making sure Van was strapped into his seat, she shifted to first gear and started the car, deftly shifting into second through the parking lot.

"A manual, eh? Impressive."

"What's so impressive about it?" she asked, keeping her eyes forward.

"I'm just surprised you know how to drive one, that's all."

She grinned. "Unbelievable, isn't it? A pseudo-blonde driving a manual." Before he asked, she said, "It was my dad's old car. He was getting a new one, and this one was getting passed down to me… so I had to learn manual, or else I wouldn't get a car."

"Ah. Yeah, I still have my learner's."

"How long have you had that?"

"Uh… a while."

"You going to be like Amano, who got his license a week before his learner's permit expired?" Though her mention of the name triggered a twinge in her chest, Van's presence was enough to dissuade the sadness from engulfing her being. Besides, her good cry the night before had taken care of a lot of her emotional issues for the time being, she determined.

Van chuckled at her statement. "I probably won't be that bad."

Hitomi turned the volume of her stereo up, and Van listened for a moment before saying, "What's this?"

"Brahms. It's one of his piano concertos. It's my favorite. Listen to the bass." Pausing for a moment with a blissful look on her face, she murmured, "Awesome…"

"I like Beethoven. But I really hate Baroque music."

"So do I! It's so… repetitive, and uninteresting. At least to me."

"I hate the harpsichord."

"Me, too. Besides, the trombone wasn't around during the Baroque period. So obviously I wouldn't feel too partial to that time period."

"Mozart wrote some good timpani solos though…"

"He wasn't Baroque. I wouldn't know anything about timpani solos, though, anyway." She turned into a parking space, and tugged the emergency brake up. She opened her door, and Van said, "Wait a minute – you're going too?"

She smiled ruefully. "I haven't eaten anything at all today."

"Oh."

They walked towards the Subway, still discussing the merits of certain time periods of music.

"I've always been partial to the Romantic period, and some of the Modern stuff," she stated.

"The Modern stuff can be really weird sometimes."

"Yeah, I don't like the really weird stuff that makes no sense. But the ones like soundtracks… that can tell a story… I like those."

Van lifted his shoulders briefly at her statement as he ordered a sandwich. "I guess they're okay."

Hitomi ordered her own sandwich – meatball sub, her all-time favorite – before she stated, "I wouldn't think you listened to much classical music."

His expression was bemused. "Why?"

She thought for a moment, and then shrugged. "I don't know. I just didn't think it."

"What did you think I listened to?"

"I don't know, I didn't really think about it."

"Then why'd you say you did?"

She made a face. "Oh, shut up."

He picked up the sandwich and paid, grinning irascibly. "Is that all you can say to me?"

"That's not all I say to you." She paid also, carrying her sandwich in the oblong bag to a booth near the front of the little store. As they sat and he began to eat, she silently reflected that he really wasn't the most attractive eater she'd ever seen.

"You're making a mess," she commented needlessly.

"So?" he said with a mouth full.

Looking away, she took a bite of her own sub, mindful of the fact that she herself wasn't the cleanest of eaters – though it was more from mere clumsiness than that she didn't care about appearances. Her stomach growled in appreciation of the food she was finally sending its way, and Van laughed at her. "You weren't lying when you said you were hungry, too."

"Could you please swallow at least half of your food before you talk?"

"You really grossed out by it?" he asked mischievously.

Knowing if he thought she was, he'd do something even more disgusting to instigate a stronger reaction, she said flippantly, "I was just thinking of the future of your love life, that's all. I doubt there are many girls that find your style of eating attractive."

"I have a girlfriend."

"Oh, really?" she lifted an eyebrow skeptically. "You eat like that around her?"

He swallowed, and his face turned attractively roguish again. "No."

She ate some more of her sandwich in order to sate her insisting stomach and refuse to dignify his answer.

"You're not grossed out by it, eh?"

"I do have a little brother," she said knowingly. "There's not much that grosses me out anymore."

"I see." Shoving the last bite into his mouth, he chewed appreciatively and once he was done, let out a big belch.

"Oh, that was pleasant."

"I try." He leaned back in his seat with satisfaction, and watched her finish her sandwich.

Extremely conscious of his stare, she glared at him while she swallowed her last bite. "You didn't have to watch me eat."

"Why not?"

"I hate it when people watch me eat."

"Oh, really?"

She cursed herself for letting him know. "I'm never going to eat with you anywhere else, now."

He laughed. "You really think everything I do is to torment you, don't you?"

She crossed her arms and smiled. "Most of the time; though you do have your moments of normalcy."

"Oh, I do?"

"Not often, though."

"You compliment me greatly."

She smiled, and glanced at her watch. "I should probably be heading home now." She looked back up at him. "Your mom will know you're here?"

"I'll call her."

She frowned. "Why didn't you call her to pick you up?"

"I wanted a ride to Subway." He winked. "No, just kidding. I knew she wouldn't be able to pick me up if I called then anyway."

"Oh." Wiping her hands on the napkin in front of her, she slid out from behind the table. "Well, have fun waiting. I'm going to go home and do my homework."

"Really?"

She laughed. "No." Throwing her trash into the trashcan, she smiled over her shoulder as she opened the door and said, "See you tomorrow."

* * *

As she was driving home, Hitomi reflected that Van wasn't really the most disagreeable person to hang out with. For a little while there, he hadn't been obnoxious at all. Most interesting.

Flicking her turn signal on, she slowing moved into the left-turn-only lane that would take her to her house and stopped at the stop light. He had been very fun to talk to, actually. It was strange… she never would have guess that she could have any sort of intellectual conversation with Van at all. Then again, he was a music freak, like her. It shouldn't have been that surprising.

She smiled to herself. Her expectation must have been because he was a percussionist. They weren't exactly considered the smartest ones in the band.

She toggled between the clutch and the accelerator when the light turned green, shifting to second halfway through her turn, and shrugged to herself. Trombonists weren't really considered the smartest ones either, of course. They were just the sexual perverts. She almost laughed out loud. It must be because of the slide and lubrication…so many wrong jokes that could be made about that alone.

Trumpet players are the smart ones of the brass section, thought they're also the jerks. With that thought, Amano immediately sprung to mind, and without Van there to quell the emotions, she felt a tear begin to well up in her eye. Gosh, I'm such an idiot. Why do I have to cry about this? It's so pointless… so childish. I really should be able to handle this better. Regardless of how badly she thought of herself, she felt the tear slip when she blinked anyway. Scrubbing at her cheek irritably, she muttered heatedly to herself, "Will you just stop with the melodramatics? It's over. Get over it."

That night, as she lay in bed, the sadness was still in her heart… but for some reason, the last face she saw in her mind before she slept was Van's.

Index:

The song Hitomi was listening to at the beginning was "Taking My Life Away" by Default.
"Band - to the ready"- This is when all the members of the marching band are in their 'resting' position… though it really isn't resting. It's similar to the military position before attention – legs spread out approximately the width of the shoulders, heads down, but instead of hands behind their backs, the instruments are mostly held at a position parallel to the ground, unless you play a percussion instrument, saxophone or sousaphone/euphonium. In the percussionist case, the sticks are held in both hands together; saxophones, it's held as parallel as it can be hanging from your neck (honestly, I'm not really 100% certain about all of this, since I never played sax and I didn't really stare at them in the 'ready' position); in the sousaphone case, the horn is merely held away from the mouth, though some people prefer to have the whole horn pointed downward, which is a pain; in the euphonium case (it's basically a tiny tuba, by the way), it's held away from the mouth, and that's about it. There's not much else you can do with that one.
"Band – atten-hut"- Basically yelling 'attention' would have the same effect. Legs are together, heads are up, and instrument is held to face in whatever position you're supposed to have it when you usually play it. Percussion sticks are held in a crisscross over the drum if it's a snare or tom, if it's a bass drum… I think they're just held out on each side of the drum. What else can you do with that, anyway?
"G-H-S" – Gaia High School. I really couldn't find a way to integrate this into the story without sounding cheesy or unnecessary, and I figure a lot of people can guess what this means, since this is the normal name for all the high schools in Escaflowne fics anyway.
drum major – Basically, the director of the marching band… stands in front and swings arms, hopefully to the same beat as the band. : ) Normally a student, I can't think of a time when it isn't.
The ending of the marching band rehearsal – All those commands and stuff… that's how we always ended our marching band rehearsals. And yes, I didn't run. Comes from playing a large instrument. *smiles*

And yes, I do drive manual too… hence the detail and its accuracy (trust me, it's accurate).
Baroque – Basically, one of the first periods of music… a lot of harpsichord and simple melodies that played in rounds and back and forth. Not a lot of extensive harmony, other than perfect fourths, fifths, and maybe thirds. Few instruments were around in this time period. Think Bach…
Romantic – Yes, even though some of the music sounded 'romantic', this was the name of the period. This was the period after Classical (Mozart, it was a distinctive period even though most of this music is referred to 'classical' as a genre). Beethoven was a great composer of the beginning of the Romantic period. The music held much more drama, and much more dissonance for musical effect. There was more music written in minor keys, and conventional musical expectations were being overridden by the new and exciting introductions composers added to their work. Think Tchaikovsky and Brahms…
Modern – You ever hear really weird music that makes no sense? That's what modern music is. Also, music without a distinctive melody line, but that depicts more of an emotion rather than a clear thought… those tend to be considered more modern as well. Like how soundtracks help to emphasize action and emotion rather than words.

*Well, that's it for me tonight. Way too much caffeinated tea…

-wink*