CHAPTER 4
Kyoya's POV
Part of my duty to look after the girl included sleeping in an Ouran dormitory. Why? Simply stated, because Miss Konanawa also stayed in one. Less simply stated, because we, my father and I, were afraid she might do harm to the school or student body in some way if left unattended. My father had instructed me not to let Miss Konanawa know I also lived in a dormitory, so I was obliged to stay in my room for the majority of the time, leaving her to think she was the only one in the school at night.
I currently sat in an armchair in my dormitory working on the Club's finances; Tamaki had deigned it necessary to purchase several new sets of cosplay costumes, all of which were particularly elaborate, so I was tasked with reorganizing the budget to cover the expense. Just as I finished a new number popped onto our account. The Host Club King had just purchased another set of costumes.
I placed the computer on the floor in front of me and my head in my hands. I would never be able to comprehend how he could so flippantly spend the Club's money. Warding off a painful headache, I decided to wander the halls to clear my mind.
I turned left out of my dormitory and strode quietly down the long hallway of unoccupied Ouran dormitories, taking particular care to remain silent as I passed Miss Konanawa's. Another left turn and a hallway and I had left the high school dormitories; another five minutes and I had left the residential wing of the school. Unconsciously, I followed the familiar path I took as I went from class to class each day, a process which calmed the pain in my forehead considerably. It was only when I reached the final class of the day, economics, that I realized there was music playing somewhere in the school.
It was faint at first, like the distant pings of chandelier pendants as they collide in the breeze of an air conditioner, but as I drew closer to the Host Club's room, it grew louder. I could now make out the gentle sound of a piano being played, though I was still far enough away that the notes blurred together. For the first time that night I remembered that the Host Club's room was, indeed, a music room.
When I reached the room's doors I pressed my ear against them. It was unmistakable; someone was playing the piano which occupied the corner of the room, and playing it quite well. The song was haunting, dissonant, like if incompleteness could have a sound or key.
It was slightly shocking at first, the thought of a young woman such as her playing such an elegant instrument, but the powerful undertones held in the music assured me that it indeed was she who sat at the piano's bench. In addition to the quality of the song, there was only one other person who lived in the Ouran dormitories – Miss Konanawa.
Andi's POV
CRASH.
I crashed my hands down into the keys again, loving how they depressed under my fingers and made that deliciously dissonant noise. It had been far too long since I'd played, far too long since I'd even seen a piece of music.
That day, when I had found myself in the Ootori boy's... clubhouse, I could hardly bring myself to tear my eyes away from the big white piano in the corner. Not exactly my style, but it was enough.
My fingers flew of their own doing across the keyboard, pressing too hard against the imitation ivory. I had to feel the plastic heat up under the pads of my fingers; it was the only way I could know I wasn't just dreaming again, so I kept playing, just adding on more repetitions of the chorus or little trills with my fingertips. Keep moving. Just feel it. Always keep yourself moving. That was something my mother taught me.
I slammed myself into the keys again, almost like I was trying to fuse with the plastic. If I could heat up the keys enough, I could become one with the music. Like I was trying to push my soul in through the keys. My sweaty hands slid, my hair stuck to my face, but I didn't care. I was playing again. I laughed wildly as I swiped my hand down the keyboard and pushed in another chord.
I was flying.
I suddenly couldn't breathe. My shirt was too tight on my back and I couldn't breathe. I stopped playing with a jolt, a dissonant chord stopping mid-push. Falling sideways off the bench, the wind was knocked further out of me as I hit the ground. I forced myself to breathe – in out, in out. With a large gasp I got air back into my lungs and began to pant normally.
I left and ran all the way back to my dormitory. By the time I got to the room I was even more winded, breathe coming in cold and sharp through my throat. I collapsed onto the bed.
I needed to be more careful with my words.