AN: Thank you for reading and reviewing! Enjoy the next chapter!
Chapter II
The music from the violin enlivened the entire house. The intense melody seemed to reach every corner of every room, and bounce off every neatly-painted wall. Michiru could feel her entire being resonate with each note, as her bow ran over the strings in confident, fluid moves.
No one would have guessed it was the first time she played the melody. She didn't know where it came from exactly. It had simply formed in her mind when she had picked up her violin for the daily practice. The music did not resemble any piece Michiru had ever heard in her life…and yet it was painfully familiar. Only, once again, the memory and reality of it were just beyond her reach.
She had been painting a thought, and now… she was playing one as well.
As she listened to note after penetrating note, Michiru felt an indistinct longing emerge within her. Unconsciously, she played louder, as if trying to drown out the strange voice inside her.
You know why…you know it inside…you've seen it all, you've heard it before…
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"Chindan, are there any more mailings?"
"No" the woman replied idly, while she dusted off the massive bookshelf in the living room.
Michiru sighed in discontent, and looked for something to divert her attention. She was not prone to boredom…yet the rare times it befell her, she would pace around the house for hours, searching for a distracting activity. Those times, she felt the absence of a family more keenly then ever…
The girl slowly eyed the entire room, and decided nothing there could provide a necessary challenge. Jaded, she let herself drop onto the sofa.
"What the…?" She stood up a second later, and pulled a thick magazine from under her. "How did this get here?"
"Oh, sorry! I must've forgotten it there! My nephew asked me to get it for him and I haven't had the chance to give it to him yet." Chindan shrugged. "Kids love this stuff, don't know what on Earth keeps them so interested…"
Michiru hummed with apparent disinterest, but the sports' magazine had caught her attention. She leisurely leafed through it.
Results to the latest F1 race counter all predictions!
She skipped to the next article.
The new model from Toyota offers an entire palette of…
Next.
Win a trip to Monte Carlo! (instructions on the third cover)
She turned the page again. None of the articles really interested her.
Promising junior racer scores yet another success!
Michiru's eyes were drawn to the small picture attached to the article. It was not a best-quality image, but it clearly showed a young man holding a racing helmet in one hand.
"Tenoh Haruka…"
The name was not entirely new to her. Michiru recalled how her father had mentioned it—watching car and motorcycle races was one of his hobbies, and he talked about it every time they met. She didn't mind, though. They couldn't readily find topics for discussion, anyway.
As the thoughts crossed her mind, Michiru skimmed the article. Haruka Tenoh received very favorable comments from the sport columnists.
Acting on impulse, the girl reached for the remote control and turned on the TV. Her fingers instinctively pressed the right button, and the screen switched to sports' channel.
"Wow…I didn't think you even knew where the TV was, and now it turns out you know the channels by heart…" Chindan commented with a certain lack of decorum.
Michiru almost gasped in surprise—she hadn't even known there was such a program…or did she?
She recalled another discussion with her father, almosta year before. She had felt a yearning to share at least one of his hobbies…so she had watched a race with him. Haruka Tenoh had ranked first, and Michiru had felt unusually thrilled about it. Her father had commented on how races involve the viewers, and she had happily agreed, feeling they finally shared a closer moment…
But then her parents had gone away again, and she had been left with only the fading impression of closeness…
…that, and an unnaturally long-lasting memory of how to find the sports' channel.
"Welcome to this season's first track-and-field competition, we hope you enjoy the ride with us! Now, let us present the favorites in this race…"
"Well, he obviously has a penchant for speed—" Michiru's cut her comment short as a close-up of the young runner, Haruka Tenoh, appeared on the screen. "What the…? Impossible!"
Chindan stopped dusting and squinted to see the screen.
"She's everyone's favorite at the moment…"
"She…?"
Michiru shook her head in disbelief. She checked the television screen again—surely enough, the channel showed a women's competition. The girl leaned forward, propping her elbows against her knees. On screen, the participants were lining at the start. Easily, she singled Tenoh Haruka out, and watched her run…
…without realizing it, Michiru held her breath for the first few seconds. Moving lithely, the sandy blonde glided by the other runners with no apparent effort, quickly taking the lead.
Transfixed, Michiru watched the screen, but her mind no longer focused on the race. She reached for the remote control and turned off the television. She didn't need to catch the end to know who had won.
"Tenoh Haruka…"
Again, the name brought about an air of familiarity, and Michiru could not even begin to guess why that was.
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When the driver rang the doorbell to announce his presence later than afternoon, Michiru was up in her bedroom, and in a somewhat agitated state. She usually felt that way before going to a display of her own paintings. Uncertainty always mixed with pride whenever she noticed other people study her works.
"Michiru-san…?"
The girl finished tying up the turquoise ribbon in her hair, and opened the door. Right outside, Chindan was preparing to knock again. The woman gave her a look from head to toes, and for a moment, Michiru almost expected a compliment of some sort…
"The driver is waiting outside, is there anything I can help you with?"
She shook her head with a tinge of disappointment. Perhaps circumstances had taught her to be self-sufficient, but Michiru sometimes felt the need to be encouraged. Of course, Chindan, her house employee, was not the right person to be expecting such feats from. The girl had never sought—and never honestly wanted—her friendship.
And the woman had not offered it voluntarily. At almost twice Michiru's age, Chindan felt half-envious of the teenager's social position, and half-intimidated by her self-reliance and detached attitude.
"No, thank you. Please have dinner ready at about eight…I expect I will be back by then."
"Yes."
Michiru descended the steps, and took one last look at herself in the tall mirror downstairs. She thought she looked nice in the new azure dress tailored especially for her. But she was very much in doubt. The girl was not sure of how a young lady her age was supposed to dress. She had read about it in magazines and books, of course. That girls should choose clothes that showed off their best parts…except Michiru did not know exactly what those best parts were.
She frowned at her reflection, and shrugged in frustration. Bidding Chindan goodbye, she went out the door.
"Good day, Miss Michiru!" Yashashi came out of the car and opened the door for her. Just as she was about to climb into the car, he eyed her and smiled appreciatively. "You look very pretty! People will take you for one of the models, rather than an artist! Now, no need to blush, Miss" he added as he saw her cheeks redden slightly, "this is the truth, and if anyone dares say otherwise, they'll have to answer to me!"
"Thank you, Yashashi-san" the girl replied sweetly. "You're too kind."
He closed the door with a slight shake of his head. He wished the young lady would have more faith in herself. He would have told her so, if he hadn't thought it would come across as rude, or even offending.
"To the Art Gallery, then, Miss Michiru?"
"Yes, please."
As the car drove down the road, Michiru pressed her forehead against the window, and watched the scenery roll before her eyes. Soon, the sea came within sight, and she was once more spellbound by the still, blue immensity that shone golden in the afternoon sun. As she watched the vastness of sapphire waters, the girl felt it was not enough…the ocean was too far away, infinitely out of her reach…
Almost instinctively, she rolled down the car window. The salty sea air reached her, and she happily breathed in. Suddenly, a gust of wind whipped her face, ruffling her carefully pinned-up curls…
…and Michiru did not even bother to keep them in place.
She closed her eyes, and relaxed against the backseat, taking in the scent of ocean air, while the soft breeze still caressed her face. And for one infinitely short moment, everything seemed right.
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AN: Like it? Hate it? Should I go on? Let me know! Review;)
Hugs,
Myosotis