Summary: Kenshin is an aspiring musician. After years of hard work, he finally gets a scholarship to Julliard School of Music. This is the story of his life at the lively school of the arts, and how one red-headed student encounters and deals with friendship, enemies, lies, jealousy, bliss, grief, and – love? AU. KK Music is the deepest form of expression.
A/N: Hey! This is a new story that popped into my head yesterday. I really wanted to write it, so here it is! Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the other ones. The other new story will be posted soon.
The Music Your Heart Makes
Chapter One: The Audition
"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent." –Victor Hugo.
Knock, knock.
The sudden interruption made a certain red-headed young man jump from his bench. He yelped in surprise as he called a, "Yes?"
"Mr. Himura, it's time for your audition." Explained a small woman, holding a notepad and a pen. She wore a very stern look on her face, as he nodded towards him, the chestnut-colored bun resting at the top of her head not moving one bit. "You have ten minutes to get to the audition room. Room 4MA."
"I'll be right there," he responded, still in partial shock from the interruption. It always stunned him when somebody abruptly interrupted him like that.
Grabbing his suitcase and his jacket, he carried them over his shoulder as he walked out of the practice room. He didn't even bother closing the door, or turning off the lights. He was too nervous to even think about those things.
I have to play well… I have to…I have to get in… he repeated over and over in his head as he walked down the hall, towards the audition room.
Closing his eyes, he listened to the rhythm of his footsteps. The slow, gentle beat calmed him down as he sat down outside the audition room on some dingy stool. The entire rest of the hall was deserted, and it was only him and the thick tension swarming in the air.
The young pianist sighed, waiting patiently outside of the door. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. He always liked listening to his heart beat; it had a strong, different rhythm and sound. At times, it sang to him – in times of sorrow and happiness, when he was angry or sad, when he was nervous or excited. It was almost as if his heart was constantly making music.
"Mr. Himura," shot a voice in his ears.
He jumped up in alert for the second time in the past fifteen minutes.
"You're next," the woman who informed him of his audition minutes before told him.
He nodded wordlessly as he picked up his jacket and his suitcase once again and entered the audition room.
It was a big change from the dark hallway of the school to a blinding, florescent light that shone from the room. He squinted as he found the burnt-coal colored grand piano and sat down on the bench he was familiar with. Tossing his jacket and suitcase aside, he finally turned to face the judges for the first time.
One of them was the woman who had spoken to him numerous times. Ms. Demarco, her name was. There was a Korean woman as well, quite young, but very sophisticated looking. An elderly man was also present there, peering at him through his thick rimmed glasses. And finally, there was a brunette, middle aged woman, her eyes being the only warm ones of the four.
Ms. Demarco spoke up. "What will you be playing for us first?"
He opened his mouth, dry from his nerves, and managed to choke out a, "The Prelude and Fugue in F sharp minor, opus fourteen, from The Well-Tempered Clavier, by Johann Sebastian Bach,"
The judges nodded as they waited for him to begin.
Rolling him the sleeves of his white, oxford shirt, he suddenly felt the air become hot. He loosened the button of his shirt that tightened his neck, feeling a slight relief, though it was still humid. Ignoring the heat, he turned his attention to his numb fingertips, which were curling into a fist, and back out again. Into a fist, release. After minutes of concentration on the ebony and ivory-colored keys, he brought his lifeless-looking hands to what seemed like an endless road of piano keys.
His fingers trembled on the surface of the thin, worn out keys of the piano. Taking a deep breath in, he began the piece.
The fast paced piece brought energy flowing back into is fingers, and the steady rhythm was enough for him to get lost into. The simple hammering of strings in the grand piano brought out a strong, clean sound full of life and expression. He forgot about the pair green eyes that were staring at him through her thin spectacles. The musician was sinking deep into the core of the music.
As he finished with a powerful chord, he struck his hands off of the keys, sharply releasing them into the air for a dramatic effect. Placing his hands on his lap, he took long, deep breathes, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down his face.
He listened as he heard scribbles of pencils scratching across yellow paper. He looked up at the white lights, until he heard Ms. Demarco speak again.
"And next?"
"Sonata in C major, opus two, number three, by Ludwig Van Beethoven," he stated, in a more confident manner than his previous piece.
"Very well." She finished off, as he began playing his second piece.
This piece was one he knew very well. He had known it since he was very young, his mother used to play it for him, along with various other pieces. But this was one of his favorites. It had an alluring calmness, yet a forceful, firm power to it. It captured his soul each time he heard it.
He began to play, the sounds of the beginning chords ringing in his ears, remembering and mimicking the sounds of the notes his mother had played. He could never play with as much beauty and love for music as his mother. It was almost as if she loved music more than life itself. The aura her mother gave off while making music was unmatchable.
He concentrated on the notes, striving to play each one as precisely and musically as he possibly could, without it becoming mechanical. He hated it most when music sounded mechanical and orderly. Music was about being free, displaying your emotions and expressions. As the concerto-long first movement ended, he slipped into Adagio, which flowed gracefully from the efforts of his slim fingers. The short and playful Scherzo was the kick back into the piece, which lead into Trio, and the triumphant, grand, Allegro assai ended with a majestic, finishing chord.
Breathing heavily, he set his fingers to rest on his lap. He felt the tips of them buzzing, and felt his heart pounding madly.
After a long silence, Ms. Demarco inquired, "And your next piece?"
"Scherzo number one in B minor, opus twenty, by Fredric Chopin," he explained, his breathing still paced.
She nodded, as she closed her eyes to listen to the music.
The music soared and echoed throughout the spacey room, each note dancing and singing, lingering in the air, refusing to disappear. He smoothly sailed throughout the piece, until he came to the slow, Agitato, where he grasped each key, bringing out a soulful, rich melody. As the piece slid back into its fast paced tempo, his energy came rising back from within him. Finally, he pulled the piece together with a grand finish.
The last note rang through the air, the only thing audible besides his deep breathing.
"…and your next piece?"
"Jeux D'Eau: Tres doux by Franz Liszt," he recited.
She nodded, as she began listening to his playing.
This piece was another one of his favorites. The high, echoic notes gave an enchanting feel. He always imagined falling snow, as it increased its fallings and decreased. From a simple snowfall, to a blizzard. As the piece ended gracefully, the woman inquired what his final piece was, which he replied with a, "Allegro Barbaro by Bela Bartok," It was a piece that contained a complicated rhythm and pace, yet he played it with a certain vigor that seemed to keep it upbeat and made it sound easy.
He finished off the piece, and professionally, set his hands on his lap, then turned to face the judges.
"Thank you, Mr. Himura, it was a pleasure listening to you play today," responded the woman with the soft, brown eyes and the chocolate colored, flowing hair. She, along with the other judges murmured to themselves, commenting on his performance. "We'll send you a response in about a week," she ended. He nodded and offered a 'thank you,' picking up his suitcase and jacket.
Before leaving, he glanced at the clock. It read 8:40 PM.
"Oh shit, I'm late!" he cursed mentally, rushing out the door. Rushing down the hallway, he didn't stop to notice a young girl on her way to the audition room, and crashed into her.
"Ahh!" She shrieked, dropping her purse. She nearly fell down, square on her behind, when his lightning reflexes snatched her hand. Although he was in a slight shock, his reflexes were sharp.
It was obvious she was expecting a fall, because her eyes were tightly closed shut. When she didn't feel herself fall, she opened her eyes, quite confused. The male pianist stared into her eyes. They were of the deepest blue he had ever seen. It was startling, how much of a clear blue they were. Her eyes were full of innocence, he saw.
"Oh, I'm really sorry," he apologized quickly, snapping out of his gaze. "I should've been looking where I was running,"
"No, it's fine… It's my fault," she continued. "I wasn't looking, and I'm just so nervous,"
"Then I guess it's both our faults," he decided with a laugh. The girl smiled. "Are you here for the audition?"
"Yes, I'm trying to get into the graduate school," she replied, picking up her fallen bag. Somehow, the two found themselves sitting on a couch next to each other, across from the audition room.
"Really? So am I," Kenshin replied, staring at her straight in the eye. The girl smiled, and she was about to say something, when they were interrupted.
"Ms. Kamiya, it's time for your audition," Ms. Demarco explained, leading her into the room. The girl walked into the room, looking back once to smile at him. He smiled back. The room door closed, and he waited there, back with the silence.
After a few minutes, he heard the familiar sound of the piano from the room. One of his favorite Bach pieces was being played, the Bach Italian Concerto. And as he suspected, the girl by the name of Ms. Kamiya had played it beautifully.
He could tell that she was a fantastic pianist by the look of her. Her hands looked frail, yet he saw hardened calluses which told him she was a serious pianist. Her expression was one of a deep interest in music, and her eyes, those eyes showed her curiosity of the world's knowledge, in especially the art of music.
Yes, she was good.
He heard the numerous, smooth scales she played, the gentle, soft, and the powerful notes of the movements. It was pleasure to his ears.
He opened his eyes when the Concerto finished, and before him lay the clock.
It read 9:00.
"Oh god… now I'm even later!" he groaned, jumping up from the couch, and running down the hall at the speed of light. "He's going to kill me!"
He took the stairs down one flight and rushed out of the school. Hopping into his old Honda which was parked right outside of the school, he pedaled down as far as he could and drove as fast as he could to the small café on Fifth Avenue.
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Leaving his jacket and suitcase in the car, he locked it and entered the tiny café. He entered quietly, afraid to interrupt any music, if he was lucky enough that it was still playing. He sighed in exasperation at the sound of no music at all, just laughter and talking. The red-haired man looked around the café, in search of his friend.
"Hey, Kenshin…"
He turned around and saw the recognizable face of the tall, muscular man with spiky brown hair. He looked like he hadn't shaven for a week, and he was chewing on a toothpick.
"Sano, I'm really sorry-" Kenshin began.
"Nah, it's fine, I know you had the important audition," he interrupted. "It wasn't an important gig anyway. I just hope I'm okay for the audition tomorrow. Speaking of that, how'd yours go?"
"It was fine… I think I did well," he breathed with relief.
"Yeah, I knew you would," Sano replied.
"How'd tonight go?" he inquired.
"Great, the café was full before. I think those flyers you posted all over Park, Lexington, and Fifth really helped," the rooster-head replied with a cocky grin.
"That wasn't funny, Sano," Kenshin whined. "It was mean!"
"It was hilarious! It's so easy to get you drunk… you'll tell us and you'll listen to anything we say!" Sano laughed, grabbing a chocolate chip cookie from a nearby table.
"Yeah, it wasn't funny when I got a hangover the next day and people staring at me when I walked down those streets. There was a little kid saying, 'Hey! You're the guy that was in his underwear yesterday with those papers!'"
Sano laughed even more, which led to him spraying cookie crumbs all over Kenshin's face.
"Sorry, man, it was just so funny," Sano explained, still laughing. "I should've gotten a video… something I could've shown your wife when you get married…"
Kenshin suddenly froze; his usually playful, violet eyes were now replaced with cold, sad, indigo ones. Sano looked at him questioningly, and then realized what was wrong.
"Oh… god, sorry, man… I forgot…" he murmured, the smile on his face wiped clean off.
"No… its okay, I have to get over her… I have to move on with my life." Kenshin replied distantly. "I have to get home now, there's something important I have to do. I'm sorry I missed your gig. Good luck with your audition tomorrow,"
"Kenshin-"
But he was already out the door, heading to his car. Kenshin started up the engine, then sped away to his apartment alone.
…so how was it?
Please review, I spent a lot of time researching on this and writing this chapter. I really hope you guys like it.
I'll get around to posting my other stories too, this idea just popped up in my head and I just felt like I had to write it. BTW: This chapter was a bit slow in the beginning, but I promise it will speed up, and will not focus as much on piano and music and such. I just wanted to put in those descriptions, for background information and to explain Kenshin's love for music.
Till the next chapter --!
-ss1128