Shuhei scanned the sea of faces for a familiar light-brown head, frowning alternately at his watch and the entrance hall clock. His watch read 9:00. The hall clock read 8:59. Kai was nowhere to be seen.

He caught Ajino-sensei's gaze and shook his head. Ajino frowned.

At the podium, the announcer was tapping the microphone. She cleared her throat and began to speak. "We will now announce the participants from the qualifiers who will advance to the first round. Number 2: Mollie Adams, from the United States. Number 3: Carol Adamski, from Poland. Number 5: Shuhei Amamiya, from Japan. Number 8: Chun Bai, from China. . . ."

Shuhei tapped furiously on his phone. Kai-kun! You're late for the announcement! Where are you?!

His phone buzzed in reply. Sorry! I'm on my way! He sighed and rubbed his head. Clearly, leaving Kai to his own devices wasn't working.

"Number 37: Kai Ichinose, from Japan," the announcer continued.

Ten minutes later, the announcer was finishing the list with "Number 99: Dawei Zhu, from China", when Kai crept gingerly into the hall. Shuhei shot him a venomous glare. Kai waved his hands apologetically. Shuhei glowered a moment longer before relenting and giving him a thumbs up.

Kai pumped his fist. Shuhei rolled his eyes.

"The schedules for Round 1 will be posted on the announcement boards. Thank you for your time and your participation in the International Argerich Piano Competition." The announcer bowed and left the stage to a smattering of applause. Shuhei pushed through the crowds to where Kai was receiving a furious lecture from Ajino-sensei.

". . . Showing up to announcements late reflects poorly on the discipline of all Japanese competitors." Ajino paused for breath. "Amamiya-kun was here two hours ago to practice. Try to follow his example."

"I'm very sorry," Kai mumbled, flushed with embarrassment. "I burned my hand on the toaster." He held up his hand, and Shuhei winced at the blisters forming on the tip of his index finger.

Ajino inspected the blisters. "Can you still play?" He asked.

Kai nodded, chastened. Shuhei's fingers twitched as he restrained himself from petting Kai on the head. Instead, he took Kai's hand and turned it to inspect the blisters, Kai's skin warm against his palm. "Let's get this patched up," he offered. "And next time, I'll help you get ready."

- O -

Cool fingers pressed against his hand, a gentle, featherlight touch spreading aloe over the burn. These same fingers played the most delicate pianissimos and coaxed the purest sound from each instrument. Kai shivered. He watched Amamiya's face examining his fingers, intently focused, brows furrowed in concentration. He was inches away. Kai imagined lifting his hand just a fraction and brushing his face. He swallowed and looked away.

- O -

"Kai-kun! Round 1 results are in ten minutes!" Shuhei called to the human tornado whirling around the room.

"Lost my keys!" Kai shook out his blanket in a cloud of dust and crumbs. His keys flew out. Shuhei caught them in one hand and tossed them back.

"Geez, you could pack the night before," he grumbled. "Your toast is ready."

"Thanks, Amamiya!" Kai grinned and grabbed the toast, tearing off a bite while cramming sheet music into his bag. "I'm all set!" He jumped up and snatched at his bag.

The bag thumped against the table. "No!" Shuhei yelled, reaching for the teetering mug a half-second too late.

Coffee splattered over Kai's shirt and trickled into his shoes.

They made it in by "Number 71: Lech Szymanowski, from Poland", both carefully avoiding eye contact with their teachers.

". . . Disrespectful to the organizers of the event. I don't understand why you had to be late today, when you've been here at 7:00 sharp every other day," Pavlas railed at him. "See that it doesn't happen next time."

Shuhei perked up at that. "There's a next time? I made it?"

"Yes," Pavlas sighed.

"And Kai-kun?"

"He made it too," Pavlas said. "But focus on your own performance. The remaining thirty are strong competition."

- O -

A sharp pain lanced through his bandaged finger. Kai gritted his teeth and tried the next run regardless, dramatically smashing the completely wrong note. He froze, savoring the awful, clashing sound of it, then burst into laughter. Amamiya sat down on the bench next to him, clutching his sides and wheezing. "Spectacular," he said. "Here, I'll play the runs and trills for you. Just for today." Kai leaned against him and felt the sting leaving his finger. He took a deep breath and felt Amamiya breathing with him, then began to practice again.

- O -

The bag was packed and sitting by the door. A plate of toast sat on the table, buttered and cut into triangles, next to a bowl of sliced strawberries. The coffee pot sat full and steaming, a clean mug waiting next to it. "I set my alarm for 8:00," Kai had said.

Shuhei sighed, then went to barge in on Kai. He yanked the blanket off the bed in a massive pull. "What happened to your alarm?" He demanded.

"Amamiya. . . what?" Kai blinked awake.

"Your alarm!" Shuhei repeated. "You said you set it for eight!"

"Oh." Kai fumbled for his phone. "Guess I snoozed it. Ah!" He caught sight of the time and jumped out of bed.

"Yes, we're late. Your bag is by the door. Pavlas-sensei is going to kill me. Let's go!"

They sprinted to the hall. Just as the reached for the handle, the door burst open, and Pavlas and Ajino stormed out. Shuhei gulped, but this time Pavlas directed his glare at Kai.

Pavlas drew him away from where Kai was getting an earful from Ajino-sensei, again. "Shuhei-kun," Pavlas began wearily. "I'm not angry. Ajino-san told me you've been helping your friend." Shuhei nodded. "While that's admirable, in the coming days you will need to be focused," Pavlas continued. "You cannot let him distract your attention. I'll be honest with you. Kai-kun is considered a contender for the title. He does not need your assistance."

They both understood what Pavlas left unsaid.

- O -

Kai had been the one to suggest the detour through the forest, on their way back to the hotel from the competition hall. It always helped him clear his mind, and Amamiya looked like he needed it. Kai laughed and chattered as they walked, hiding his apprehension, knowing full well what Pavlas would have said. Amamiya relaxed as they walked with the sky growing dark around them. "Don't worry, Kai-kun" Amamiya finally said. "I promised to be your friend, and I won't stop now." Smiling, Kai reached out and took his hand, leading him through the forest.

- O -

The first faint tones of his phone alarm chimed in his ear. Kai blinked at the soft rays streaming through the window and across his futon. He reached under his pillow, groping for the snooze button. The alarm grudgingly silenced.

Nine minutes later, the chime returned, growing louder by the second. Grumbling, Kai reached under his pillow to silence it again. He pressed the button once, twice, three times, but the insistent song continued. Blearily, he rolled over.

Shuhei stood over him, pointedly playing Kai's alarm song from his own phone and giving him an unimpressed look. "Kai-kun! Time to get up!"

"Can I snooze you?"

"No. Here's your packed bag, and your toast, and your clothes. We can make the finalist announcement if we run. Let's go!"

They sneaked in just as the announcer stepped up to the podium. Ajino caught Kai's eye and gave him an approving nod. Shuhei nudged him affectionately. "We finally made it." They shared a fond smile as the announcer tapped the microphone.

The announcer began to read. "We will now announce the participants from the qualifiers who will advance to the first round. Number 3: Carol Adamski, from Poland. Number 12, Lauren Berger, from Germany. . . ."

Shuhei froze, the smile flickering away. Did he miss my name? But the announcer read on.

"Number 37: Kai Ichinose, from Japan."

I'm out. I lost. Shuhei looked around numbly. He spotted Pavlas standing near the podium with mouth set grimly, Ajino and Serrault with their heads together, deep in conversation.

"Number 50: Sophie Ormesson, from France. Number 53: Wei Pang, from China. Number 71: Lech Szymanowski, from Poland. Number 93: Katelyn Young, from the United States. That concludes our list of finalists. The schedules for the finals will be posted on the announcement boards. Thank you, and good day."

His vision was blurring. Kai was reaching towards him, and he twisted away. Of all the people in the world, he couldn't face Kai right now, defeated and crying. He couldn't handle the pitying looks, like a pathetic creature scrabbling for comfort. He slipped through the door and fled.

Kai caught up to him in the forest, right as Shuhei was sitting miserably under a tree, knees tucked to his chest. He quickly stood and swiped a hand across his face, smearing his tear tracks.

"Go away."

"No, Amamiya, listen to me. It doesn't mean anything! There's good luck and bad luck in competitions."

"Don't patronize me! There's luck if you're near the cutoff, but not if you're a lead contender. You know as well as anyone that you're on a different level. I've only ever been mediocre."

"Amamiya, you're very talented! Your sound is my favorite-"

"All this time I've been helping you, I've only been defeating myself." Shuhei interrupted. He mustered a self-deprecating laugh. "To think that I could be of help to you anyway, or ever truly challenge you. Getting involved with you was a mistake."

Kai flinched and took a step back. "No, Amamiya, you don't mean that."

"I do. I'm sorry. I quit!" Shuhei turned and ran.

- O -

For all his bitterness, he couldn't bring himself to miss the finals. Shuhei sat in the back, nearest the door, prepared to slip away the moment the last note ended. One by one, the competitors played their sparkling, dazzling pieces.

Then Kai walked tensely to the stage. He bowed without smiling, eyes searching the audience, then sat stiffly at the bench. He took several deep breaths. His glanced at the audience again.

He looked lost.

In another moment, someone would whisper, and then the whole auditorium would be filled with whispers.

His vision swam, and before his eyes he saw ten-year-old Kai peering at him over their clasped hands. Give it your all. Or I'll stop being friends with you, he heard his own voice saying. He remembered Kai as Maria, then dressed in a clown suit, then living in his refurbished apartment with his notes crammed over the floor and walls. Determined, purposeful Kai, guilty of nothing more than trying his best, as he had promised, who was now sneaking glances at the audience, looking for all the world like a puppy someone had kicked and abandoned.

Shuhei groaned inwardly, then broke into a theatrical, hacking cough that echoed in the auditorium. His neighbors glared at him. "Sorry," he whispered.

On stage, Kai relaxed visibly, his expression taking on a determined glint. One more deep breath, and he was playing, pure, clear notes dancing through the air.

Something was different. The embellishments, Shuhei realized. He's playing them in my style, the way I did when we practiced. The music settled over him, Kai's sound mixed with his own, dissolving away the last of his anger. Shuhei smiled despite himself, drinking in the beautiful sound that he so desperately yearned to make his own. I'll give it my all too. Even if I never catch up to Kai-kun, I'll keep chasing after him. . . for as long as I live.

- O -

The last finalist was finished, and the jury locked in deliberations. Shuhei sat on the steps outside the performance hall, watching the streetlamps, face chilled pink by the evening breeze. He turned at the sound of footsteps and a phone alarm.

Kai sat next to him and handed him a scarf. "Here," he said.

Shuhei blinked at him. "Why are you carrying an extra scarf?"

"I also have gloves and a hat, and I packed you a bag too." Kai rummaged in his oversized duffel bag and extracted a backpack. "And toast."

Shuhei accepted the proffered toast. "Kai-kun, what are you doing?"

"You took care of me these last few weeks. Now I'll take care of you too."

"Kai-kun. . . ."

"Open the backpack!"

Shuhei did open the backpack, pulling out several cereal bars, a plush golden retriever ("in case you get lonely"), and-

"Where did you get this?" His own face grinned up at him from the frame, with Kai by his side, arm slung over his shoulders, watching him with such an open, affectionate expression it made his throat ache.

Kai scuffed his shoes on the sidewalk, a blush creeping up his face. "I asked Jasinski-san from the Chopin competition. I just wanted you to know that you're the brightest star in my eyes. And that you're a part of my music."

Shuhei snorted.

"Well, you are, even if not so literally as tonight. So, did my music reach your heart?"

Shuhei huffed out a breath, then turned to face Kai. "I'm sorry, and I was wrong," he said. Taking up Kai's hands, he continued, "I'm glad I met you and got to play the piano alongside you. Every day you show me what the piano can be, and I'll always keep reaching for that."

"I'm glad too," Kai replied, his eyes shining, his breath warm on their entwined fingers.

Shuhei caught the edge of the bandage now hanging loose. He unraveled the remaining loops, touching the smooth skin underneath. His face was alarmingly close again. "Is it all better?"

"Yes, it's all better." This time, Kai did lift his hand, and he did brush the backs of his fingers against Shuhei's cheek. His eyes widened, but he didn't pull back, and Kai slid his hand down, gently grasping his chin and pulling-

A soft melody sounded over the intercom, signaling the end of deliberations and the announcer's return. Startled, Kai snatched his hand away. His face was flaming.

Shuhei laughed and held out his hand. "Come on, Kai-kun. We can't be late to hear the final results."

END

- O -

Author's notes: Will Shu-chan ever actually win an event, achieving his dream of defeating Kai? I'd like if he did, but I don't know how to do it. So that's where I've stuck him: always behind, perpetually disappointed, but always striving. I suppose that's the role of the miraculously-talented protagonist's cold, cranky archrival. Shu strikes me as being a lot like Vegeta, born with a high-normal amount of talent - enough to aspire to be great, but he's no chosen-one. Yet through sheer stubbornness, he still manages to be somewhere in the neighborhood of being competitive, and even achieves things which ought to be impossible for anyone else. I think that's beautiful.