*Muse Tunes: "Ballo In Maschera: Act III – Ma Se M'e Forza Perderti" by Giuseppe Verde, "Symphony No. 5 in C Minor, Op. 67: I. Allegro con brio" by Ludwig van Beethoven, "Valse triste, Op. 44" by Jean Sibelius, "Yes!" by Dario Marianelli, "Come Back to Us" by Thomas Newman, "Introduction et Rondo Capriccio, Op. 28" by Camille Saint-Saens, "Someone Else" by Thomas Newman

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments from the last chapter. Truly glad you all are sticking with me through this story. You guys rock! This next chapter is a pivotal one and has A LOT of elements going on at the same time, so I'll apologize now for the multiple POV shifts you are about to embark on. I did my best not to make it too choppy, but I can't say whether or not I was successful. If only I had a film crew and a Hollywood budget it would all make a great deal of sense but alas! My humble words must suffice. Now on to the story, I hope you enjoy! ~Prose

CHAPTER 7 – Crescendo

Had Kyo been given a list of activities to choose from to pass the time during his involuntary "vacation" an afternoon at the symphony might not have been dead last.

But it did come pretty damn close.

Not that I had been given any choice, he thought sulkily as he followed Ryu and Mei through the crowded anteroom; head down, hands shoved firmly in his pockets. How he let himself get talked into this he would never know. Likely because he'd had other things on his mind at the time…and he'd agreed without really thinking over what it was that he agreed to.

He'd nearly forgotten all about it too until Mei called him that morning with her deceptively sweet voice asking that he show up in something a little nicer than a t-shirt and running shorts. He knew better than to think it was anything less than a command. So, resigned to his fate, he'd pulled on a button-up shirt and a pair of khaki slacks that received an approving, "see, was that so hard?" when he finally showed up at the Bushida's.

Luckily, he hadn't been forced to wear a tie or entertain a blind date or something equally horrifying, which he supposed he had Ryu to thank for. Like most of the married women in his life, Mei had an unholy zeal for matchmaking. Only Machi surpassed her in enthusiasm, but at least with Machi's dates the girls weren't as likely to literally bust his balls…which was more than he could say about the last two girls Mei sent his way (a by-product, he could only assume, of being set up by a three-time national kendo champion). Usually, Ryu would simply sit back and laugh at him. The very lack of a fourth wheel spoke volumes about his boss's concern for the current state of his mental health right now.

"Geez, Kyo. Lighten up! It's a concert, not a funeral," Mei said with a slap to his back that nearly toppled him over.

Kyo rolled his eyes to the ceiling in a silent bid for patience. "Oh, yeah? Guess I got lost on the way to the cemetery. Must've been that wrong turn by the concessions stand. I'll just head back—"

"Uh-uh-uh, not so fast, hotshot. You can just stay right here next to me," Mei replied as she clutched his arm in a steel-like grip. "After all, how many times does a girl like me get to have such a hottie on her arm? Ryu's great an all but he's nothing to look at—"

"I'm right here," Ryu grumbled from Mei's other side, earning an elbow in the ribs.

"Hush you," she said as she turned mischievous eyes back to Kyo to continue their discussion. "It can't be that hard to spend an afternoon with this lug-head and little 'ol me?" she asked batting her eyelashes dramatically at him.

In truth Mei was a beautiful woman, with shining dark hair and eyes and the lithe, graceful figure of a professional athlete. Add to that a straight-forward, easy-going personality and no, he couldn't say it was hard at all. Kyo's shoulders hunched in defeat which made Mei laugh hilariously. "If I didn't know you, Sensei, I'd be offended." When Kyo grimaced Mei let out one last chuckle. "Come on, it can't really be all that bad. Do you have something against live music or something?"

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

"I don't like crowds," he admitted petulantly which made the expression on Mei's face turn thoughtful.

"You didn't seem to have an issue with it at last year's tournament…" she ventured.

"I had something to focus on then," he replied with a nonchalant shrug and then looked up at her with a wry smile. "Look, I'll be fine once the show starts. Your husband would probably kick my ass otherwise."

"Damn straight," Ryu said, giving Kyo yet another slap on the back that had him rocking forward. Not for the first time Kyo wondered if the couple had always had such similar mannerisms or if it had been something that had grown with familiarity.

Soon the trio had pushed their way through the milling crowd into the main hall to find their seats. Luckily the house lights were still up so it was easy enough to navigate to the correct row. As it happened, they were seated near where they entered, on the left side of the massive hall near the back so it didn't take long to get situated.

Ryu handed him something but Kyo paid little attention to it as he took in his surroundings. He had never had cause to be in a theater like this and while it was much as he'd expected, to actually be there felt a little surreal. Not uncomfortable per se, but definitely different. He could see the orchestra already on stage warming up and wondered for a moment how that garbled cacophony of sounds could possibly turn into something beautiful when purposefully applied, but then music had always been something of a mystery to him.

"Hey, look at this," Ryu called pointing to something in the glossy program he was holding. "Momiji Sohma: The Farewell Tour."

"Sohma, huh? Any relation Kyo? Hey, are you alright?"

In truth Kyo felt like he was going to be sick. He had gone completely still at hearing Momiji's name spoken out loud to him for the first time in five years. Not only that but by someone who knew nothing of his family or his past. To be certain he looked down at the program in his hand and immediately recognized the figure on the cover with his mop of familiar blonde hair. It took everything he had not to curse out loud.

"Kyo?" Mei repeated as she squeezed his arm in concern.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. He's a…distant cousin. We don't talk."

Ryu winced at his answer. "Sorry man. I forgot you had a falling out with your family. Do you need to…?"

"No, no. It's fine," Kyo replied as he shot his boss the closest thing to a reassuring smile that he could muster at the moment. He hadn't been able to tell Ryu the whole truth about his background but had felt compelled to give some explanation just in case someone should come looking for him at the dojo one day. Ryu had never pried but he had a feeling the older man saw more than he let on.

Mei gasped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…I didn't know that—"

"It's okay. Really. I think I can manage for a couple of hours without being noticed."

By him at least, Kyo thought as he shifted uneasily his chair. With a packed house and the blinding stage lights Momiji was not what worried him. With growing disquiet Kyo took another cautious look around the hall. There was still just a scattering of people already seated but the theater was becoming steadily more filled as they approached show time. What were the chances that there were other Sohmas somewhere about, watching him from the crowd? Waiting for him to misstep. Maybe even Akito himself. Kyo's knuckles went white as he fisted his hands in his lap.

He took a deep breath in and out and then relaxed as he thought of his resolve from the other day. In the end it didn't matter if they were there or not. The Sohmas had no control over his life. This might not be one of the likeliest places for them to find him but he would not let them drive him away either. If only…

If only.

Kyo sat back in his chair and stifled a chuckle as he looked at Momiji's picture in the program once again. He could not help but think of the one person he knew would love this, had she only known. He could not help but imagine her sitting next to him, hands clasped together, her beautiful eyes shining with excitement. The image was so clear it made his heart warm just thinking about it.

"What's that look for?" Ryu asked him with a nudge to his ribs and the inquisitive cock of an eyebrow.

"Huh?"

"You had this weird sappy look on your face…I thought maybe you were having a brain aneurysm."

Kyo rolled his eyes. "Just read your program you idiot," he replied, but couldn't help the hint of a smile that remained on his lips.

If only Tohru was here, he thought wistfully as he sat and waited for the show to begin.

Meanwhile, in a seat closer and more centrally located to the stage, Tohru sat in awed silence as she took everything in around her with child-like wonder. She couldn't believe how cavernous the room was or how ornate the architecture…even the light fixtures. Her old high school auditorium had nothing on this place!

"First time at the symphony, dear?"

Tohru snapped her head around at the sound of the nearby voice to see an elderly lady with a warm smile and kind eyes in the seat next to her. Had she really been so distracted by her surroundings not to have noticed the seats around her being filled?

"Yes, it is," she replied politely, yet with a smile so wide the older woman chuckled knowingly.

"I can still remember my first time, oh, many years ago now. It was a magical night," the woman mused. Her smile faded slightly as she noticed the empty space next to her. "Why, young lady! You aren't here alone, are you?"

"I was supposed to come with a friend, but she had to cancel at the last minute," Tohru explained.

"And so you came alone? That's rather brave of you."

"It is?"

"Indeed it is! When I was your age I would never have had the courage to go to a concert by myself. I don't know if I would have the courage to do that even now! Isn't that right, honey?" the lady said as she turned slightly. For the first time Tohru noticed there was a man sitting beside her who she assumed must be her husband. The man simply grunted in reply, not even bothering to look up from his program. "Don't mind him dear, he's a man of few words. You, however, look like the kind of girl I could have a very pleasant conversation with while we wait for the show to start. I'm Masaki Ochi and this grouch next to me is my husband, Denki."

"It is nice to meet you both, Ochi-San, I'm Tohru Honda."

"You as well, my dear, you as well. And please, call me Masaki."

"Yes, of course, Masaki-san," Tohru replied, making the elderly lady cluck in wry amusement before she leaned forward with an air of intent curiosity. "Tell me, are you familiar at all with Sohma-sensei's work?"

Tohru blinked, realizing belatedly that Masaki was referring to the violinist on the poster, whom she noticed was also pictured on the cover of the program in her hand.

"Um—no. Today's the first time I've ever heard his name and I…oh. Oh no, should I have heard of him? Is he some sort of celebrity? I don't know a whole lot about classical music though it can be very beautiful and surely he must be very talented and I'm rambling now."

Masaki started chuckling, which made Tohru blush. "It's alright, Tohru-Chan. He is well known only in certain circles. Denki and I saw him for the first time a few years back and were immediately intrigued. It's rare to see someone so young play with such range or such potent emotion. We've been following his career ever since. Do you know, he has certain pieces he insists on playing every concert?"

"Oh? Is that…unusual?"

"Indeed it is. We've seen Sohma-sensei perform at least a half a dozen times over the last few years and while most of the lineup can and does change there are three songs he plays every show without fail. It's rumored that they're even in his contract!"

Masaki pointed out the pieces in the program, but the titles might as well have been in a whole other language. Tohru's brow furrowed.

"Why these songs specifically?" She found herself thinking out loud.

"Perhaps because, like so many great pieces of music, they tell a story," Masaki began, pointing to the program in her hand again. "The first movement here? Begins the tale of a young man blessed with prosperity, never wanting for anything except a family to share his good fortune. One day, he crosses paths with a girl from a neighboring village. Finding her to be as pure and sweet as she was fair, he immediately falls deeply in love with her. Alas, his love turns bittersweet when she falls for another…his best friend, a man who is like a brother to him. Living every day in agony but unwilling to come between the two lovers, the young man decides to leave for a time to reconcile his broken heart."

"How sad!" Tohru cried, her mouth wobbling precariously as she tried to hold back the tears that already pricked the back of her eyes.

"Goodness, if that's the sort of reaction you have to the first part, I'm not sure I should continue—"

"Oh, please! Tell me the rest," Tohru insisted, as she sat up straight in her chair and squared her shoulders.

"Alright, child. But if it becomes too difficult to hear feel free to stop me at any time," Masaki replied with a sympathetic pat on the hand. "In the second movement the young man returns to find great misfortune has befallen his friends in the many months since his absence. A corrupt magistrate decided he wanted the girl for himself, and so had her lover—the protagonist's best friend—unjustly accused and arrested. Subsequently, the poor man wasted away in a cell awaiting a justice that would never come. Hearing of his death, his beloved's heart was irrevocably broken and she flung herself into the sea rather than live with the pain."

Tohru gasped, her shaking hands fisting painfully in her lap. Her heart was beating so wildly she thought it might fly right out of her chest. What was wrong with her?

"Aggrieved, the young man vows to correct the injustice brought down upon his friends. He spends most of the third and last movement fighting for a way to awaken them both from their eternal slumber so that they may be reunited once again in life and love."

"…and does he?"

"Does he what, dear?"

"Succeed? In bringing them back together, I mean."

Masaki's smile slowly warmed and her eyes twinkled softly at Tohru's question. "Yes he does. It is for all intents and purposes a happy ending. The music in that last piece is very uplifting towards the end, but still very soulful, reflecting the protagonist's steadfast love. Oh dear, and here I thought that might please you. Have I said something wrong?"

"Oh no! It's a beautifully tragic story, it's just…Is it based on a popular legend? It seems very familiar to me somehow."

That seemed to give the older woman pause. "Well, I'm not sure. I suppose it might be," she replied reflectively, and then shot Tohru another warm smile. "Who knows, maybe Sohma-sensei has his own star-crossed love in real life, eh? Either way, I think you will find yourself feeling the full spectrum of emotions when you listen to each piece. It is utterly divine. Sohma-sensei plays it with such conviction, and such genuine passion too! It is a shame it is his last show. He really is such a talented young man."

"So, it truly is his final tour," Tohru murmured, almost to herself. "Do you know why?"

Masaki leaned closer and replied in a stage whisper, "No one knows for sure, but our neighbor's niece knows his agent's hair stylist and if what she told me is true, he is set to take his place in his father's business."

"Oh," Tohru replied, a little astonished at this answer. Somehow it made her a little sad to think this Momiji Sohma might be giving up his true passion for family obligation. She gave herself a little shake, reminding herself she didn't know him or his situation, and so had no room to judge.

"My sentiments exactly. So, you see, my dear. This is a very special concert, indeed," Masaki replied with another gentle pat on her arm. "I suspect it will be a performance we'll remember for years to come."

Tohru cocked her head in curiosity at the last comment but before she could reply the house lights dimmed and the crowd around her clapped as a man she presumed was the conductor walked out onto the stage and bowed. The energy surrounding her suddenly felt charged, practically crackling with electricity as a hush fell over the room…almost as if the audience was collectively holding their breaths with anticipation while the maestro took his place. It was only a matter of seconds, and yet the next few moments felt almost like a lifetime. Not quite sure of what was happening Tohru's heart sped with excitement as the conductor raised his arms and the musicians readied their instruments.

When the conductor's hands finally fell it was with a succinct sequence of chopping motions that produced several bursts of music from the orchestra so loud that it startled Tohru even though she'd been expecting it. Luckily, she managed to hold back the squeak that had risen to her throat at the sound of the first notes before she could embarrass herself. Blushing, she sat in stunned silence until she realized she actually recognized the piece they were playing…or at least bits and pieces of it; heard who knew how many times across various TV shows and movies over the course of her life. The idea that she was not completely lost in this foreign world of classical music finally perked her up and allowed her to relax and simply enjoy the experience. When the song was over she startled again, only this time she eagerly added to the thunderous applause that swelled up from the audience. The conductor turned and bowed once again, and then to her surprise walked to the stand mic set up at the front of the stage to address the audience in a smooth, clear tenor that demanded attention.

"On behalf of myself, the extraordinary musicians before you and our most estimable patrons, I welcome you all to the Tokyo Metropolitan Symphony…featuring the very talented Momiji Sohma. Thank you and please enjoy the show."

The audience broke into applause a second time as he walked back to his former position. Once again the orchestra took up their instruments and once again Tohru found herself eagerly leaning forward. This time when they began playing it was little more than a low murmur that slowly built into an undulating wave of notes. Tohru was soon as captivated as the rest of the audience by the melancholy waltz weaving its way across the room like magic.

So captivated, in fact, that she had little idea of the danger unfolding in the shadows right behind her.

Not too far away in another part of the theater, a nondescript man in a nondescript suit exchanged a look and a small nod with his equally nondescript counterpart sitting in one of the upper sections. He slipped quietly from seat to seat, utilizing the shadows to disguise his movements until he slid into an empty space only a few rows back from the pretty brunette. Watching her carefully, he checked the contents of his pockets and was satisfied when his fingers closed around the items still there. With one last glance around he stood as nonchalantly as possible, moving silently toward his target while the rest of the audience was too distracted by the performance to spare him any notice. He was just about to slide into the row the girl was sitting when a hand clamped painfully down on his shoulder, rendering him temporarily immobile.

"I'm going to make you a deal," a hard voice murmured next to his ear. "Either turn around and come with me now or leave later in a body bag. Your choice."

The shadowy figure swallowed hard. He didn't have to look behind him to know his captor meant business. Straitening his spine, he allowed himself to be ushered silently back up the aisle to the double-doors that would lead out to the empty anteroom. His frantic mind grappled for some idea…any idea…to get him out of this mess.

Haru on the other hand was thoroughly unimpressed with his captee, a grubby little man in a cheap second-hand suit with the sort of shifty-eyed look that gave him the creeps. The way the guy was twitching as they walked up the aisle, he knew he was going to pull something stupid as soon as they were out of sight.

And it didn't take long.

The moment they were on the other side of the double-doors he panicked and tried to make a break for it, only to be blocked by Hatori's tall frame. Haru closed in from behind and the idiot took a swipe at him that he easily dodged and then countered with a punch that knocked the air out of him. When the second suited thug came skidding around the corner to join the fray a playful smirk flashed across Haru's face.

"If that's how you wanna play, I'm game," he crowed as he cracked his knuckles and beckoned the two forward.

It became immediately obvious that neither one of them was well trained but fought dirty enough to keep the fight interesting. Haru was in his element, punching and blocking with practiced ease while Hatori silently watched, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Make it quick, Hatsuharu. We don't have all night," he observed dryly, flecking an imaginary piece of lint from his impeccable Armani suit.

"Spoil sport," Haru replied cheekily, but quickly wrapped up the fight with the precision of an expert.

In the end Hatori had the second man secured and silently fuming on a nearby bench while Haru had his much more vocal friend plastered face-first against the wall with an arm twisted behind his back screaming to be let go. Haru ignored him, instead choosing to search his coat pockets for clues. When he found a small tube of liquid balled up inside a handkerchief, he had a good idea what it was for but handed it to Hatori anyway for confirmation.

Hatori opened the stopper and took a cautious sniff. "Diethyl ether," he muttered, his piercing gaze narrowing at the squirming man.

"I take it that's something that would knock her out?" When Hatori nodded Haru gave the man a sharp shove as he checked his other pocket for good measure. "Just what did you think you were going to do with that, huh asshole?" Haru growled menacingly as he revealed a switchblade.

"Haru," Hatori said in warning, making the younger man roll his eyes and toss the weapon aside.

"I-I wasn't going to use it I swear! I'm no murderer. It was just to scare her—t-to make sure she did what I told her to!" the thug stuttered.

"And that would be what exactly?"

The man didn't answer until Haru twisted his arm tighter behind him and he practically squealed. "Alright! Alright! I'll tell you everything I know, just let me go!"

Haru frowned as he considered, and then turned the man around and plopped him on a bench next to his friend who still sat in stony silence. "Talk then," he snapped, keeping a careful watch over the guy who was still sweating and breathing hard from the exertion of their fight. Haru relaxed a little bit at that, realizing if he did run, he wasn't likely to get very far.

"We…were hired to watch the girl…to take her…scare her a little bit but not harm her," the thug insisted between great gulps of air.

"Take her where?"

"To the park…near Kaibara High…after dark. That's all I know!"

"Who were you supposed to meet there?" Haru pressed, ignoring the thug's last statement, but all he did was shake his head and whimper incomprehensibly in response.

The second man rolled his eyes and heaved a great sigh of defeat. "It was meant to be a dead drop," he confessed in a flinty voice that matched the hard planes of his face. The man was older than his counterpart and apparently more pragmatic about their circumstances.

"To what purpose?" Hatori asked, eyes narrowing at the man.

"Above my pay grade," the thug shot back with a shrug.

"Then who hired you?"

"Don't know, don't care. We were hired through an intermediary," the man offered with a wide grimace. "Whoever it is wasn't shy about spending money though. They offered double our usual rates to get the job done."

Hatori and Haru exchanged a loaded look before they each took one of the men and hauled them to their feet. As quickly as they could they led them down the hall to a side exit and out the door. A kid in an usher uniform was just outside smoking a cigarette but he did little but blink at them in surprise as they passed through the alleyway into the nearby parking garage where Hatori's car was waiting.

"Hey, we answered your questions, now let us go!" the shifty-eyed thug yelled as he tried to twist out of Haru's grasp with little to no effect.

"Oh, we will. Just not yet" Haru replied as he shoved him into the back seat, followed closely by the second thug who went more willingly into the car before Hatori slammed the door behind them. His hazel eyes immediately returned to his cousin's inscrutable face. "You're not worried they'll try to get out? Your Mercedes isn't exactly a cop car."

"And yet it still has childproof locks," Hatori replied dryly.

"I don't know about this, Doc. Hired thugs?" Haru croaked as he leaned back against the car, the question unmistakable in the statement, his eyes searching.

"Hiring outside of the family does seem like an odd move," Hatori murmured, rubbing his chin in thought.

"You don't think the kidnapping bit the strange part?" Haru retorted.

"That goes without saying, Hatsuharu."

Haru huffed out a breath and then looked up at Hatori again. "If we hadn't been here—"

"But we were, Haru. That's the material point. There's no sense in dwelling on what could have been. We do enough of that already."

Haru's eyebrows went up in surprise at Hatori's last statement but decided better than to remark on the comment. He changed the subject instead.

"So, shall we take them to Sensei or—"

"NO!" Hatori automatically responded and then winced at Haru's expression. He cleared his throat and softened his tone as he continued. "No. Taking them to the main estate would be a seriously bad idea."

"Okay," Haru drawled, thinking quickly. He ran through the possibilities and immediately discarded the idea of Ayame's. Ayame was…well, Ayame…and he didn't think the Doc would be too cool with having hired henchman anywhere near Mayu's place, even if the two of them were on a break. "Let's take them to the dojo. Kazuma will know what to do," he finally said, earning a nod of approval from Hatori.

"He should be told anyways," the doctor agreed.

They both moved to get into the vehicle when Haru stopped and looked up one last time at Hatori over the roof of the car. "Do you think we should warn her? Honda, I mean."

"You know we can't, no matter how much we might want to…. but," Hatori began, his lips twitching as he tried to suppress the smile forming on his lips, "If all goes as you say, then my guess is she won't be in need of our protection much longer after tonight."

Haru blinked at him in surprise and then a wide, knowing smile spread across his face.

"Oh, man, if you're right Rin owes me 5,000 yen!"

Tohru clapped enthusiastically along with the rest of the audience as yet another song came to an end. Her eyes widened in confusion when instead of jumping straight into another piece like they had previously, there was a long enough pause to hear a swell of murmuring voices from the crowd. Then a young man walked onto the stage holding a violin in one hand and a bow in the other and her face lit up in realization. This must be Momiji Sohma!

The crowd broke into another round of applause as Sohma-sensei bowed first to the audience then to the maestro and his fellow musicians. The cameras trained on the stage switched from a wide shot of the group to a close up of Momiji's face and Tohru gasped as it appeared on the big screen above their heads. He smiled and looked directly into the camera, the overhead lights shining brightly down on his artfully tousled curls. Tohru's heart fluttered as she was captured by his gaze, feeling almost as if he specifically sought her out in the crowd…her and her alone. She knew it to be impossible and yet she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine at the strangely mischievous light shining back at her in those eyes that seemed oddly familiar. Then he raised his violin and bow and the room fell silent once again in heady anticipation.

"Handsome, is he not?" Masaki whispered in her ear, making Tohru blush as she nodded in agreement.

He was a handsome man, there was no denying it. As a single woman there was absolutely no reason why she should feel embarrassed by admitting such a thing, so why did it feel strange to look at him in such a way? She didn't have much time to think about it, however. The moment he began to play everything else melted away except her and him and the story he expertly weaved with the music that he played.

The first movement was a beautiful piece. Light at first but becoming increasingly poignant as the song progressed. A feeling started to bubble up in her she couldn't define, welling up like a lapping pool of water overflowing over time by a deluge of rainwater. It was little more than a whisper at first, like the tingling sensation she got whenever she sat too long on her feet. In the second movement that feeling increased into a gentle thrumming just under her skin, making her shift uneasily in her chair.

By the middle of the piece, Tohru was nearly choking on a swirl of strong emotions. Searing, painful emotions that made her chest ache like nothing she had ever felt before in her life. Her breath was coming rapidly now as she tried to hold the tears in that even now threatened behind her eyes.

"Are you alright, Tohru-chan?" Masaki whispered next to her ear in concern.

"I'm fine," Tohru gasped, wincing at the obvious lie in her words. The elderly woman shot her a discerning look but didn't ask any more questions as the music progressed into the final movement.

Tohru's eyes went wide as she was hit with a wave of warmth so intense her chest nearly burst with it. Pushing forward feelings underlying yet hidden in the first two pieces now unmistakable in the third. There was so much packed into the bright, hopeful notes pouring from Momiji Sohma's instrument. So much love. So much longing. So much joy. So much. Close enough she could almost seize it if she could just reach out her hand and…

As if her body was acting of its own accord Tohru stood shakily to her feet, tears cascading down her face as she reached a hand towards the light that encased Momiji Sohma. It was so vivid and warm she could almost see its sunny yellow tones, brilliant as a summer day. Behind her a couple of voices whispered angrily for her to sit down. She could even feel a hand tugging at her dress and someone calling her name but she was all but lost to outward sensations. A part of her would later remember looking briefly into Masaki's astonished face as she turned and walked away, leaving not just the row but the theater altogether as she walked out into the empty antechamber. There she stopped, overwhelmed and confused by what she was feeling.

What is happening to me? Was the clearest thought to come through all the others. She swayed a bit on her feet as a wave of sudden lightheadedness hit her. She felt something wet trickle from her nose and without a second thought pressed a couple of fingers to it. But when she looked at her fingers it was not what she was expecting.

Tohru froze. Even as she recognized the coppery taste of blood in the back of her throat, she had not expected to see it. A bright crimson red splashed across the pale contours of her skin.

For a moment her hand shook in time with her shuddering breath. Then everything began to fade to black as her eyes rolled back into her head and her legs gave out beneath her. Just before her consciousness slipped into total darkness she felt her body falling…not to the floor as expected but into something warm and solid that immediately engulfed her. The last thing she could hear was her name being called by an achingly familiar voice and the whisper of…something. A fragment of a long-forgotten dream, and yet clear as day.

…tell me you'll stay with me…

…until the last…

*Author's Notes: I'm starting to learn writing about the power of a live musical performance is extremely difficult. It's one of those things I often feel is extremely personal, therefore wildly variable. Either you get it or you don't (i.e. me who lives vicariously through music every day of my life vs. my mother, who is completely tone deaf and could care less unless its Christmas and she's nostalgically murdering my favorite Christmas carols). There's nothing wrong with being either type of person, but I could perhaps see how a chapter like this might be boring to someone who could care less. I just wanted to put it out there for anyone who was either confused or snoring through bits of this chapter: YES, there was a reason for it, and YES, there will be further exposition on it.

Things really start to heat up from here so don't lose faith! I think many of you in fact will be QUITE happy with what comes next. :D

Until next time my friends! Stay classy and be excellent to each other. ~Prose