A week passed, Trowa and Quatre both happy with their new found friendship. Mornings, the two would walk to school together. During recess, Trowa would make his way to Quatre's class where they would walk around campus for the fifteen minutes that made up recess. During lunch, they would meet each other before heading off to Quatre's hiding spot. And after school, they would walk home together. When Quatre would have a lesson, Trowa would often stay and listen or go home to come back forty-five minutes later to walk Quatre home. The two never grew tired of each other's presence. In fact, they each felt a little comfort with the other around. But of course, neither of them admitted this. Trowa finally found someone trustworthy and Quatre finally found a friend.
One day, Quatre had stayed after school for a lesson and told Trowa to go home. Trowa objected but eventually gave in to the command. The lesson ended five minutes early and Quatre decided to head home and run into Trowa rather than wait. As Quatre walked on, arms reached out of the gap between the classrooms and pulled Quatre into the darkness.
"What the-!" Quatre cried out. He felt his violin case being pulled out of his grasp and being forced further into the gap.
"Hello, dweeb." Richie smiled. He and two of his friends stood above Quatre.
"Look here, Richie. It's a fiddle thingy." One said holding up the violin.
"You're an idiot, Billy. It's a violin, not a fiddle." The other said.
"Shut up, George." Billy countered.
"Both of you shut up." Richie growled. "We have a score to settle, blondie. You took Trowa away from me and I won't let you get away with it."
Quatre stared at the boys before him, not daring to make a move in fear that they'd do something to his beloved violin.
Richie followed Quatre's gaze and smiled viciously. "Give that to me." He barked at Billy holding out his hand to retrieve the violin. Quatre's eyes widened and his lip began to tremble.
"Is this what you're afraid we're going to break? Huh, dweeb?"
"Please, Richie. Please don't..."
Richie simply smirked and the other two boys watched.
"Well, I don't see why I shouldn't." He plucked one of the strings.
"Please! You can do whatever you want with me, just please don't touch my violin. Please..."
"Ugh. Pathetic aren't you." He plucked another string.
"Richie..." Billy started, realizing the seriousness of their situation. It was one thing to beat someone up and a whole different thing to destroy something as valuable as a violin.
"Shut up."
"Richie, I don't think you should do anything to it." George said.
"Shut up! I'll do whatever I want to with this."
"Richie, please. Not my violin." Quatre's vision began to blur as tears welled up in his eyes.
"Hmmm. But I think you deserve this, blondie. Trowa was my very best friend. And you took him away from me."
"Richie, don't." Billy whispered.
"Richie, give me the violin." George reached out.
"No! The dweeb is gonna get what he deserves."
"Please don't, Richie. Please. Anything but my violin." Quatre's voice quivered. The tears fell out of his eyes, staining his cheeks.
"Give me the violin, Richie." George tried again more urgently.
"Give it to him." Billy added.
"Oh, I'll give it to him, all right." Richie smiled before raising the violin above his head.
"NO!!" Quatre cried.
"Richie, don't!!" George yelled.
"No! Richie!" Billy exclaimed.
Richie smacked the violin down on the ground with great force. The violin shattered, sending pieces flying in every direction, the only thing holding it together was the strings.
"NO!!" Quatre shrieked.
"Dammit Richie!" Billy hollered. George was too shocked to say anything.
Richie tossed the destroyed instrument at Quatre's feet with satisfaction all over his face.
"What the hell did you do that for?!" Billy yelled.
"Shut up!" Richie yelled back.
Quatre dropped to his knees and cradled the remains in his arms, shaking from despair.
"You shouldn't have done that Richie! That was stupid!" Billy continued to yell.
"That's what you think..." Richie snorted, turned and left the gap.
"Jesus, Quatre...I'm so sorry..." George fell to his knees beside Quatre. He was soon followed by Billy, who placed a hand upon Quatre's shoulder.
"Quatre?!" Trowa called out.
"He's over here!" Billy called.
Trowa looked into the gap to see the three boys on the ground. Billy and George looked up as Quatre continued to cry, cradling the smashed piece of wood. Trowa hurried over to Quatre, dropping to his knees.
"We're really sorry." George said.
"Yeah... I didn't think that Richie was the cruel..."
"Or that stupid."
Trowa took one look at the open violin case and immediately realized what Richie had done.
"Oh Quatre..." Trowa reached over and pulled Quatre into an embrace. Quatre cried into Trowa's shoulder. The four of them stayed there for an unknown amount of time. All felt horrible.
When Quatre's tears subsided, Trowa helped the boy stand.
"Go on home, guys." Trowa said to Billy and George. They nodded and walked out of the gap to return to their homes.
"C'mon Quatre." Trowa whispered into the boy's ear. He pulled away, closed and picked up the violin case. He wrapped his free arm around Quatre's waist. Quatre leaned against Trowa as Trowa lead them home.
* * *
Weeks pass and summer finally arrived. Quatre eventually got over the loss of his violin with the help of Trowa and other newfound friends. When news of Richie's cruelty spread through the school, people felt sympathy towards Quatre and loosened up to him, except Ralph of course. Richie's friends left him and became friends with Quatre and Trowa. Soon, Richie had no one left. He moved away that summer.
Even with new friends, Quatre never showed anyone other than Trowa to the forest where they spent their lunches in each other's company. During the summer, the two would hide from everyone else there. They swam in the river on hot days and slept in the shade of the trees on warm afternoons.
Trowa saved as much money as he could for Quatre's birthday present. He used his allowance, past birthday money, and Christmas money for the gift. Trowa knew that Quatre would love it. When Trowa had finally saved enough, he wrapped it up and planned on giving it to him in advance.
"What is it?" Quatre asked as the two hid in the forest.
"You won't know unless you open it, silly."
"What's it for?"
"Think of it as an early birthday and Christmas present."
Quatre cocked an eyebrow and eyed Trowa suspiciously.
"Will you open it already?"
"Fine. Sheesh." Quatre carefully and slowly pulled off the bow.
"Oh, come on!" Trowa threw his hand up in the air.
"What's the rush? Is it a dying animal or something?"
"Just open it. Quickly."
Quatre smiled and pulled off the wrapping paper, still carefully and slowly. Trowa tapped his foot impatiently. When he got the wrapping paper off, Quatre looked at the gift.
"Oh, Trowa! It's a wonderful box!" Quatre exclaimed.
"Ugh. You're impossible. Open the damn box."
Quatre pulled off the lid and froze, eyes wide as saucers.
Trowa watched Quatre's face, carefully. Quatre wasn't smiling. He didn't look upset either. Trowa was definitely confused with his friend's reaction to the gift. He began to worry if it was such a good idea to buy it.
"Well?" Trowa asked.
Quatre swallowed. He looked up at Trowa and then at the gift. From inside the box, Quatre reached in and pulled out a violin case. He carefully opened it and inside was a brand new violin. Quatre gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. He looked up at his friend, tears welling up in his eyes. The violin wasn't a traditional cherry brown, but black. It came with a matching bow and a case lined with green satin. Quatre blinked before closing the case, putting it back in the box, adding the lid, and pushing it back to Trowa.
"What's wrong? You don't like it?" Trowa asked, a little concerned and disappointed that his friend didn't want the gift.
"I love it...but I can't take this..." Quatre said backing away from the box as if it were a disease.
"What? Why not? It's a gift."
"I can't...it-it's too much..."
Trowa rolled his eyes before walking to Quatre. He took Quatre's hand in his. "Quatre, who cares if it's too much? I know you wanted one, so I got one for you. I saw it in the store and thought it would be perfect for you."
"I can't take this. I won't."
"Quatre...c'mon. Nothing would make me happier than for you to accept this and play your heart out. Please?"
"But-"
"No buts. How bout I not get you another gift for a while? Huh? This'll be a gift for the next couple years. Okay? Better?"
"Uh..."
"Yes?"
"All...right..."
"Great. Now play." Trowa led Quatre back to the box. Quatre pulled off the lid and opened the case again. He took the violin and bow into his hands and began to play Clair de Lune.
Trowa sat on a nearby branch and listened to the soothing sounds of Quatre's music.
'You're a wonderful friend, Trowa. Thank you....' Quatre thought as he played.
Author's Notes/Disclaimer: When reading this over I came to the conclusion that some people might think 'It's just a violin.' But here's how I see it. Over the past two years, Quatre's had no one to keep him company and therefore used his violin kinda like a substitute. And plus, you'd be pretty sad too if someone smashed your favorite childhood toy.
On another note, I also noticed that half of this chapter is made up of the word 'please' (Not really. I'm exaggerating so don't go counting it). And I therefore (there's that word again) will post yet another chapter right after this one. Maybe it'll be a bit more entertaining.
I own nothing but a really loud keyboard.