Hi again, tout le monde. (Look at me, all multicultural. It's so cool knowing that people around the world are reading my mush, thank you very much.) I had a request from a guest reviewer for you-know-who, and it seemed like the right thing to do anyway, so here you are, confession number *counts on fingers then pretends nothing happened* 5!

The huge hall was completely packed with people, all shuffling in their expensive seats and muttering to one another. The whispers filled the air with a tense atmosphere, expectant and impatient for something, anything, to go either badly wrong or superbly well. Any huge crowd will expect both of these things at once; and it would only take one grumbling father to turn this kind of audience into a mob.

There was a camera crew there, with the television producers, eager for promotion, barking out instructions at their teams incessantly for the equipment to be arranged just so. Teas and coffees were being inhaled just as often as the steamy air surrounding their polystyrene cups; tension was high and rising ever higher.

And behind the heavy green curtains, the stage was being set. Men and women in all-black uniforms were scurrying here and there, putting things down and picking them up; and then hearing from their peers that the previous position had looked far better.

The young make-up artist was the only one not overly stressed out. Her task had been a simple one: make the performer ready for the cameras. But when she'd met the performer in question, she had realised that it would take just a few daubs of light and dark powder in the right places, and she'd be finished. So she had then decided to get to know him a little better.

'So, how long have you been playing the viola, Shinomiya-san?' asked Reiko casually.

'About fourteen years, I suppose,' answered her blonde 'task', 'I've just always played music, and sung it.'

'Odd choice, though, viola,' pressed Reiko, 'I mean, why not the violin? Isn't that what would make you really famous in the classical world?' She didn't understand why someone so talented wouldn't just take the easier option. 'You could lead orchestras, perform...what are those things called?'

'I think you mean concertos,' grinned the boy, and the woman was struck by his handsome face all over again.

Natsuki Shinomiya was a make-up artist's day off. His tall, muscular frame set off any clothes he put on in the best light possible; he was skinny in all the right places. He had a well-shaped face, soft and friendly because of his easy expression, but a strong jaw-line and slim neck. (Reiko hated making people's necks out to be skinnier than they were, it was so tedious.) His lips were full, yet refined and, of course, always smiling; and Reiko still couldn't get over his beautiful eyes. They shone deep green behind his oval-shaped glasses, like gems when they caught the light. This moment they were still and pensive. Hypnotizing.

'Hmm...I think it's the sound of the viola,' Shinomiya said spiritedly, 'It has such an unusual range. There's something wonderful about having such highs and lows in one single instrument, don't you think, Rei-chan?'

'Rei-chan?'

Before Natsuki had time to explain, he was dragged out onto the stage and his tuxedo was brushed down roughly by a man in all-black, who hissed at him where to stand and what to say when.

Pity he hadn't had time to keep talking to Rei-chan. She had seemed so nice and friendly, like they were close buddies already! Natsuki loved making new friends like nothing else. Well, apart from Haru-chan, of course. But that was a given.

Was she in the audience tonight? She'd promised she would be, and he'd never known Haru-chan to break a promise.

Numbers were being shouted out around the set, counting down to the moment when the curtain would open to reveal the famous Natsuki Shinomiya from STARISH, performing an original sonata on his own viola. The crowd outside were settling down as the lights dimmed. Packets of sweet things were being passed around hurriedly, and the murmuring slowly faded away.

Then the curtain opened, and Natsuki bowed low to the applause the audience showered over him. He smiled readily, and lifted his viola to his chin, resting it comfortably and tuning it. It didn't take long, and then he was ready to play.

In the fourth row from the front, at the far left hand side, a small girl held her breath for him. She traced the kanji for 'person' over and over again, across her palm, to steady her nerves. She was going to hear him play his viola for the first time, and she felt so full of feeling that she could burst, that she was sure she would burst when his bow touched the first string.

But she didn't.

Natsuki was flying through the music, his fingers dancing up and down the fingerboard; but he half wasn't thinking about the music at all. He knew that this was when he was playing at his very best; when he was so absorbed in the music that he himself could drift through his own thoughts. He was playing the piece with all his heart; the trick was not to realise how much work was being put in.

So he started thinking about Haru-chan instead. The light melody captured her innocence and childishness so well, spinning through the phrases like her laughter. When the second movement slowed everything down, Natsuki could picture her deep in thought, troubled by something perhaps. He hoped that the imaginary problem wasn't down to him. Then the last movement, Natsuki's favourite: Haru-chan in love. This movement didn't actually involve Haruka being in love with anyone; it was more of an expression of Natsuki's feelings for her, and how he'd feel if she felt the same way.

Time after time it had seemed to Natsuki that Haru-chan had found out something to do with him that scared her. Despite his energy, he was very observant when it came to the girl he was in love with. He knew he would someday find out what that fear was, and she'd be the one to tell him.

The final phrase came to a close, and Natsuki once again bowed to the applause of the crowd, smiling from ear to ear and thinking about how kind and sweet they all were for coming. When he noticed any children or babies in the audience, he waved at them, struggling not to rush down and squeeze them for being so cute!

The girl could see all this and saw much more. She noticed every gesture he made; every word he said she could hear as clearly as though he were beside her. One day she'd tell him how much she could see in him, how much she admired and loved him. But not today. She just kept on clapping.

When everyone left soon afterwards, Haruka made her way to the stage door. It was a cold evening; the amber streetlamps gave the city streets an odd, ethereal harmony of light and shadow all blurred into one another. Most of the audience didn't notice this, since they had lived in urban places all their lives, but to Haruka this lightened-darkness was new.

There was a man leaning against the door smoking a cigarette, and she politely asked him if he could find Natsuki for her. He shrugged and took another long drag, before stubbing it out completely and going indoors.

Haruka shivered, and coughed a little after he was out of earshot. She still hated smoking, even though she'd had to get used to it after moving to the city; it was all too common a sight to see a group of young workers coughing out smoke like chimneys, and it made her feel so sad for them. It always sounds so painful, the coughing, she thought.

'Haru-chan! You came, that's so kind of you! Oh, wow, your dress is so kawaii, ne?'

Suddenly she was engulfed in one of Natsuki's bear-hugs. He squeezed her tight, as though he was a little girl himself with a new ragdoll; Haruka could feel herself turning very red, but was unsure whether it would even show: under those lamps, everything looked yellow anyway.

'Your playing was amazing,' she said once he'd allowed her to breathe again, 'I had no idea that you wrote classical music and pop songs, Shinomiya-san!' She put her head on one side, causing half of her orange bob to hang in mid-air. 'Do you compose in the same way both times, or is it harder to do one than the other?'

'I love writing both! Most people like to pick either classical or pop music nowadays, but whichever one they don't choose, they miss out on,' answered Natsuki, still clasping her hands in his own, which Haruka was very much aware of.

'The best thing to do is find music from every genre that you like, because there always is some, even if it's only one song. I only learn from what I like, but I make sure that I like as much as possible!

'Speaking of pop songs,' he added, his face lighting up as an idea came to mind, 'I finished something of yours just recently! I'd love you to hear it, Haru-chan.'

'Of course!' What else could she say to the boy of her dreams, who was holding her hands and smiling with those glittering green eyes? She knew she would love what he wrote more than anything else. Apart from Natsuki himself of course. But that was a given.

He led her through a short corridor and out onto the stage, and the sight took Haruka's breath away. The feeling of being on the raised set, looking out at the hall, was very different to that of watching a show; she felt completely exposed, and, if even one other person had been there, she wouldn't have ventured out from behind the curtains.

'How do you deal with this?' she asked aloud. 'Every time you perform you're out here, in front of so many people... Why would you all keep on doing this, every night for months, like you do?' Her voice rang out, amplified by the room's specially designed acoustics, and Haruka backed away from the sound. It's too loud, people might hear! ...Why would you want them to hear?

'I still don't know the answer to that one.'

'Huh?'

'Why I like performing,' said Natsuki thoughtfully. 'I still don't quite know. Part of it is about wanting to make an audience happy, that's a big part of it. It's also because performers like attention, but then again Syo-chan says that that's not always the case.'

Haruka laughed at his puzzled expression. No, Syo was definitely not a fan of too much attention, or rather affection, on Natsuki's part.

'Do you want me to play for you?' she asked, feeling much more at ease. 'I don't mind, if you have the music.'

'That's so nice of you, Haru-chan, but I decided I'd continue playing for you this evening. I don't have the music anyway,' he added quietly, picking up his viola from its case, 'This song is one I'll always remember.'

She watched as he placed his bow on the string, and a small tremble rocketed up her spine when the music began. It was a simple song, with the viola adding both accompaniment and harmony to Natsuki's voice; and Haruka couldn't help but clap along to the beat after hearing a few lines.

This is a song that I wrote for you,

For the bells up above and the melody too,

Because I wanted a song that I could use to say

This is the tune and I made it up,

I hope you like it; it's not that hard,

But every time I play it, I want to say:

I haven't had much time to tell you

Just how long ago it was that I fell in love with you,

It hasn't been so easy,

But I thought that you should know, because after all,

It's you that I'm in love with.

Remember when and remember how?

I do each day and I'm writing down

Each minute that I spend here in my head,

You may not even understand,

But that's ok for the waiting man,

It's enough to know that you heard me when I said,

I haven't had much time to tell you

Just how long ago it was that I fell in love with you,

It hasn't been so easy,

But I thought that you should know, because after all,

It's you that I'm in love with.

I haven't got a word to tell you

Just how glad I am that I fell in love with you,

It's never felt better,

And I wanted you to know, because after all,

It's you that I'm in love with.

Like I said, I am the waiting man,

I'll stay beside you for as long as I can.

The purple skies and golden eyes are

What I'll miss the most

If you say no,

Before you say no, just know:

I haven't had much time to tell you

Just how long ago it was that I fell in love with you,

It hasn't been so easy,

But I thought that you should know, because after all,

It's you that I'm in love with.

I haven't got a word to tell you

Just how glad I am that I fell in love with you,

It's never felt better,

And I wanted you to know, because after all,

It's you that I'm in love with.

After all this time,

It's you that I'm still in love with.

Haruka stared at him, open-mouthed. She had expected a beautiful song, of course, Natsuki was a great composer, but she'd dreamed of this; the only difference being that she'd thought up her own lyrics to the song and sung them to Natsuki.

He gazed at her for a moment, smiling with those deep green eyes, before loosening his bow and packing away his viola in a contented silence. He'd finally said it to her, he'd said it all.

But Haruka didn't feel contented in the slightest. She was terrified of what might happen. What if she ruined this moment by saying something stupid, or what if they kissed? What if they didn't kiss? He'd obviously thought it all through, but she had no idea what her part was. She'd probably left it too long to say anything by now, but there was so much she was too scared to say...

Then she saw it.

A single tear fell onto Natsuki's viola case.

He reached up behind his glasses to wipe it away, but in doing so, they fell with a small clack to the floor.

Haruka gasped as Satsuki Shinomiya rose from his crouch and narrowed his eyes at her.

'So, it seems Natsuki got to you first, Nanami Haruka,' he growled, stepping slowly towards her, those emerald eyes flashing with menace.

'Satsuki-san!' she squeaked, feeling much more worried than she had around his sweeter counterpart. Falling in love with Natsuki was one thing, but dealing with his dark side was something else...

'Let's see how much you love him, then,' said Satsuki terribly, sweeping Haruka into his arms and pressing his face forward into hers. She could feel his cool breath on her nose, and his arms were like bars, caging her into his embrace. On one hand, Haruka felt strangely elated that Natsuki (sort-of) was hugging her, but on the other, she knew that Satsuki was far too close for comfort.

'You know,' he said harshly, glaring at her, 'You're not strong enough for Natsuki. Only I can protect him. You've already upset him, and you haven't even said anything yet!'

'I was going to!' she protested, pushing her way out of his arms, 'I'm in love with Natsuki! He's one of the strongest people I know!' Her cheeks flushed red as she looked Satsuki right in the eyes.

'He's good, and kind, and so brave for singing that song, and he doesn't need you anymore!'

'You don't know anything!' shouted Satsuki, furious now, 'You don't know what he's thinking! I'm the one who's been taking the blows for him, whenever he's been sad or angry.

'Oh yes,' he cut Haruka off, 'He's so often sad now that it's hard to keep track of the times you've broken his heart. It happens every time he sees you, something tears apart inside him. But you're not interested; in fact, you're far too busy for him. You don't love him at all!'

Tearing apart? Haruka was horrified. What was Natsuki going through? Her love for him was strong, but soft and admiring; she couldn't imagine another type of love, not for Natsuki anyway...

'No!' she yelled, suddenly sure of herself. She rushed over to the viola case and snatched up the glasses before Satsuki realised what she was doing. 'Natsuki's hurt right now, but I can change that!'

Haruka, in an unexpected burst of self-confidence, strode over to her worst nightmare, Satsuki Shinomiya, and kissed him full on the lips for three whole seconds.

He was so startled that when they broke apart, he didn't lift a finger to stop Haruka ramming the glasses back into place.

Natsuki blinked and just managed a small, confused,

'Haru-chan?' before she started kissing him again; and his arms slowly reached up to hold her close. Finally, they understood one another.

After all this time,

It's you I'm still in love with.

Thanks for reading, as always. It's so much fun for me to write these, and I hope you enjoy reading them just the same. I have it on good authority that my writing style has improved since confession numero uno, but any constructive criticism is welcome, since there's always room for improvement.

Finally, the age-old question: who shall confess to Haruka next? (I have now planned which order the rest of STARISH are going in, but if you like I could do a different series of these for other pairings, Quartet Night or yaoi maybe? Just a thought.) Thanks again, and the next one will hopefully soon appear!