symphonicscans

[symphonicscans]

Hey everyone!

We're still alive! It's just been a really hectic few months, so things have been pushed back. For better or worse it looks like Fujimi Orchestra will be released next.

#scanlation #updates #arkposts

[symphonicscans]

Fujimi Orchestra - August 12 (Sunny) (Gaiden - Book 10, Chapter 3)

Author: Akizuki Koh Illustrator: Keiko Nishi Content Warning: 18+

Things have been really hectic irl lately, so we haven’t really been releasing much. So sorry! But finally this last chapter of Book 10 was finished, the gaiden that shows what happened on Kei and Yuuki’s trip to Niigata (that Yuuki only hinted at in the previous chapter). I feel like it was a strange decision to completely gloss over it and only show it from Kei’s view, but who knows. As usual, you can read it here on Google (with helpful footnotes as there are lots of specific Japanese language things in this chapter) or below the cut. Sometime soon the complete book will also be released.

August 12 (Sunny) - Gaiden

This JR line ticket was a birthday present from my beloved partner: a reserved seat for the first bullet train on Saturday, August 12th. And since it says it’s for the Joetsu bullet train to Niigata… that must mean it’s an invitation to his parents’ home, right? How could I not like this? He said, “If you love me, then you’ll come with me” in a threatening way, but… of course I’ll go. To me it was like rolling out the red carpet. I never imagined that he’d invite me to go back to his hometown… that he would think of me in such a way…

Of course, I was more than aware that we were in a loving relationship. Even our good-bye and welcome-home kisses were much more affectionate than in the beginning… he admitted that he desires me… he’s as intoxicatingly sweet as honeyed wine. 

So he’s inviting me to his hometown. He also wants me… to meet his parents! 

They’re no longer living, so I’d only see their silent gravestones, but for him they are there. But he means that he wants to introduce me to the people who are most important to him… before he was so afraid of just meeting my sister, but now he wants me to meet his parents…!? Oh, I’m so moved, Yuuki! This courageous demonstration of love… what a wonderful gift! Ahh… it’s really so very touching… 

I felt a surge of unparalleled gratitude for everything in the world, and realized the true meaning of being ‘moved;’ once again, he’s taught me something. He teaches me so much by the way he lives his life… by simply being a loving presence beside me. Living with him gives me something to look forward to every day, a happiness that makes me realize the true joy of being alive. I love you, Yuuki. Tonight I want to express this feeling to you physically…

Yuuki’s sweet tenor roused me from my thoughts, “Also…”

Yes? I looked up at Yuuki, who was staring straight at me.

“I have one more favor to ask.”

What’s this? My mind immediately started imagining dozens of ‘favors’ he could ask of me. “What is it?”

The response was unexpected: “I want you.”

“Yuuki…”

“I’m dying for you to hold me.”

Y-Yuuki…he seemed serious about it. Behind his glasses, Yuuki’s eyes were burning with lustful enthusiasm, and his lips were moist and inviting, waiting for a kiss. Ahh… what’s wrong? I couldn’t believe he was asking me to have sex with him… even saying that he wants me to hold him…! My reaction was delayed by such a pleasant surprise… I wonder if he noticed?

He stood up, walked around the table, and climbed into my lap, asking me to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and lured my tongue into his mouth with his, sucking voraciously as he ground his crotch against mine. “I’m surprising myself…” He said in a sad whisper. “I’m acting strange tonight… right? But it’s not really that strange…ah, ahhh…hnng… K-Kei, what should I do… nngh!” His panting became urgent and his grip tightened around me. “I’m going to…Ahh…hnngh…”

I held him against me when he tried to pull his hips back in a panic, then pressed into him with a gasp. I could feel the hot spurt on my belly through the gown, and Yuuki’s whole body trembled with ecstasy in my arms. Ah, Yuuki, you really wanted it… so much you came just from kissing me.

“I-I’m sorry, being the only one turned on… like an idiot… but—“

Yes, we’re not done yet. I pulled up the hem of his robe and inserted a finger into his ass; he was already so aroused that it was swallowed in an instant, and his voice shot up an octave higher. He gasped helplessly, “Hnng—ah… ahh…” Yuuki clung to me. It seemed like he was going to cum again just from my fingers. Seeing Yuuki in such a state… so openly lustful, is really… rare. What could have brought this on? 

“Yuuki…?” A note of confusion was in my voice.

“Sorry…” Yuuki whispered. “But when I think of how much I like you, how much I love you…”

Well, I know what that feels like, to love someone so much that you can’t help but want to connect with them physically. But… oh, maybe that’s why? Is this because I failed to advance in the competition? Maybe I made him worry about me… “I’m sorry…” Originally I’d planned to celebrate my birthday today with a bottle of champagne and a ticket to the finals. But instead I found my birthday gift was a homemade meal with this fine dessert… for me, it’s enough, I don’t need champagne or anything else. So I thanked him, “That makes me happy, Yuuki.”

Right at that moment, Yuuki looked up at me with a shock, his face froze, then a moment later he flushed bright red. He pushed me away, got off my lap, and ran out of the kitchen like he was being pursued. I heard a slam — was that the bathroom door?

“Yuuki…?” In any case, I’m sure I made some kind of mistake. I went after him. I called to him from behind the closed door, “Yuuki?”

I heard the sound of the lock clicking.

“Yuuki?”

I tried the knob, but of course it didn’t open.

“…Yuuki?”

“Leave me alone!” He replied. I bit back a response as he continued, “I’m not in my right mind tonight. I don’t know why, so just forget about it. Good night, Kei.”

What’s wrong? Forget about it? I mean, it’s not like he’s ever been the one to initiate sex, so why now? Why did he fly off the handle like this? “I’ll kick down this door.” I said.

To which he replied, “If you do that, I’ll jump out the window.”

Is he serious? The windows in there are… “And fall straight to the ground?”

“What does it matter?!” Yuuki seemed to be really angry.

“Yuuki, what’s wrong? You’re really not acting like yourself tonight.” I already felt like he was being more assertive than usual, but then everything took a turn for the worse. I was puzzled.

“I know, didn’t I say that?! I’ll come out when I’ve cooled off.” Yuuki answered, his voice sounding on the verge of tears. The only thing in my mind was that we weren’t even close to communicating right now. I had no idea what had happened to cause Yuuki to get like this, but I couldn’t just leave him in this state. 

“Move out of the way, I’m going to break the door down.” I had to open this door, even if it meant breaking the lock, so I could talk with Yuuki. In our relationship we could always talk through things to understand what happened. Or so I hoped… so I prepared to kick down the thing that was physically separating us.

“Fine, I’ll unlock it…” 

At the sound of Yuuki’s voice, I lowered my foot that had been at the ready. Yes, of course, that was a last resort… I heard a click as the door unlocked. 

“But if you come in, we’re over.” 

Why… what did I do to make him so incredibly upset…? But Yuuki didn’t seem to want to discuss it right now, so I had no choice but to wait.

“…Just leave me alone for thirty minutes.” He said.

“Haa…” After hearing that I went back into the kitchen. I heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom, and it seemed to embody Yuuki’s heartbreak. I almost went back over without thinking, but… I told myself (no, I agreed to wait 30 minutes) and sat down at the kitchen table. What on earth did I do to hurt him? As I turned over what had happened my eyes wandered around the room, and I noticed Yuhki on the corner of the table, beside the plates that had been used for my birthday dinner.

Yuhki had been the small guest Yuuki invited… “Since it was your birthday, I would have liked to have a dinner party, but we had Fujimi rehearsal. Ikushima-san and others would have wanted to come too. But I decided to keep you for myself since it’s a special day. So tonight we’ll have a really private celebration, only family.” Yuuki had explained, then patted Yuhki’s head with his finger shyly. “This little one can be considered family… but he won’t make much fuss.”

“He won’t eat much or ruin the mood with vulgar comments?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Now I could see the reason for him being here. I said to the little rabbit doll, whose name Yuuki had yet to guess, “What did I do wrong? Did I say something to upset Yuuki?” 

The figure’s glazed pottery eyes were painted on in a fixed expression, but I thought I could see an understanding in them, hear an answer: (Yes, a little bit… what you said could have been bad.)

In my mind the bunny spoke with Yuuki’s voice, but of course it was just a manifestation of what was itching at the back of my mind. And speaking of itches… “Did Yuuki think I was rejecting him?” That wasn’t my intention. But that was probably it, since I couldn’t see any other reason for him — after so boldly propositioning me — to run off and lock himself in the bathroom. Perhaps he felt like there was nowhere else to go since I’d turned him down…

Thinking about that, I was tempted to go pull Yuuki out of the bathroom and take him in my arms, but I’d agreed to wait those 30 minutes. How much time is left… “22 minutes to go?”

I had no choice but to suffer aimlessly, so I decided to use the time to figure out what I could have done wrong. He’d been so preoccupied about my failure to advance in the competition that he’d arranged a birthday celebration just for the two of us, and even an invitation to have a romantic evening afterwards that was quite out of character for him. I was so disappointed in myself that I’d failed to accept such an invitation…

“His… advances?”

I’d made that mistake before, back when Yuuki had shut his eyes and offered to open up his body to me, when I was submerged in the bitterness of unrequited love. At that time it wasn’t so much that he was letting me use his body, but rather he was giving me a message from his heart that he wasn’t afraid to accept my feelings. I misunderstood his true intentions then, so naturally I angered him… he was so upset he smashed his precious violin with his own hands and went berserk, locking himself in the apartment. 

“Did I make the same mistake again?”

But we’re in a different situation now, and although I was surprised at his unusual forwardness, I wasn’t unhappy about it.

“I wasn’t… unhappy about it… right?”

I turned the phrase around in my head. Yes, I wasn’t unhappy… but to Yuuki, maybe my response came across as a cold?

“It was a misunderstanding, Yuuki…” I mumbled to the Yuhki in front of me, and realized there must be a deeper layer than just this misunderstanding. I’d been arrogant to take Yuuki’s desire for me for granted… maybe that was the true nature of my failure this time around. We’ve now been in a relationship for nine months, and if we included the month before that where we became lovers, it would be ten… for me, this is a record. Of course, I hoped that this record would keep being broken for the rest of my life. But it’s true that our current status, in which we’re both madly in love, was now entering unknown territory for me. So it seemed… perhaps I’ve become complacent, taken his affection for granted, and as a result my pride caused me to… subconsciously… not properly appreciate it for the miracle it is. 

“I said it was a misunderstanding… but I was an insensitive and lazy lover, and that’s how I made the mistake of offending him.”

Yuhki’s knowing eyes answered without changing expression (obviously). Yes… of course, passing it off as an accident won’t do. To commit a crime accidentally is worse than doing it on purpose.

“Okay, now how will I make up with him…?” I mumbled and glanced at the time. “It’s two minutes over…” I got up quickly and went to the bathroom, where I could hear the water still running. I debated if I should call out to him or not, then said under my breath, “I’m coming in!” and opened the door.

Yuuki was hugging his knees in the bathtub, sitting with his head under the shower. His hair was soaking wet and his shoulders trembled slightly as they were pelted by the torrent of water. In horror I realized that it wasn’t hot water. More than that, I confess — or rather, regret — that what I thought in that moment wasn’t about the danger that Yuuki’s body was in, having bathed in cold water for 30 minutes in the middle of the night… but rather, I wondered if he would ever forgive me for forcing him to calm down in such a fashion. Truly a selfish thought. The searing remorse I felt when I had the realization was punishment enough, but how would Yuuki respond?

In any event, I turned off the shower with a dry bath towel in hand. I put it over Yuuki’s shoulders; he was still hunched over and wouldn’t even look up to hint at an apology. Praying he wouldn’t shake me off, I took his arm — which was frigid to the touch — and gently pulled him up. Yuuki stood obediently and allowed me to wipe down his cold wet hair and body. I put a new robe on him to replace the used one he’d left on the floor, and led him out of the bathroom.

“I’m serious about this trip.” Yuuki said. 

“I know.” That wasn’t the right answer. Since I didn’t mention anything about my observations earlier, that was all of the conversation we had for the rest of the night. Of course since Yuuki left it at that, it meant that his anger had subsided, but it was likely only superficial, with his feelings far from reconciled. He remained slumped over, without giving me a glance, much less a smile. I escorted him to the bed, and he got in with his back to me. Seeing his cold body curl up made me want to wrap my arms around him, to give him warmth, but I was afraid he’d push me away. While I hesitated, he fell asleep.

After ensuring that his breathing had settled into the quiet rhythm of sleep, I gingerly took his hand in mine, as if I were trying to steal it. The fingertips of his slender, sinewy hand — the hand that played the strings — were flat and calloused to the point that I wondered if they hurt. They were a silent testimony to how sincere his dedication to the violin was.  Although his slight figure looks as if the wind could knock him over, inside he has a firm, masculine strength. Actually, you could say that he’s a tough guy, stubborn and uncompromising to a fault.

Yet the stubbornness of firm and unshakable purity that dwells within his thin, fragile chest… the result of a self-imposed determination to not be mired in the baseness of the material world; his rare purity is a crystallization of his restraint and rigor, which he built up through diligence. His brilliance is a testament to his dedication, it speaks volumes about his value as a person. Through goodwill and sincerity, the most unrewarding things in the world, he shaped himself into this resolute and beautiful soul… I was rightly punished for forgetting to properly respect that about him.

But he probably blamed himself for everything yet again. While sitting in that cold downpour, he searched for words to put himself down, struggling to justify his actions — even though he had no need to — and cursed himself for being awful…

(I’m sorry, I was the one at fault. You did nothing wrong. We’ll talk about it in the morning) I told him in my heart so I wouldn’t disturb his sleep, then I closed my eyes as well. However, just like the night before, sleep tonight didn’t come easily. Last night I’d started analyzing the reasons that I didn’t advance, then that led to thoughts about the Japanese classical music world as a whole… then I began brainstorming ways to improve my own performance and help Yuuki reach his true potential when, before I knew it, dawn had come.

So that night I’d only slept two hours. The night before that I’d slept for six hours, so I’d gotten a combined eight hours of sleep… four hours in each day. But it’s better to get at least five hours for optimum sleep cycle benefits and to stay in top physical condition. (So then, you must go to sleep tonight) I declared to myself, and brought up some background music in my head to help with that. Tonight’s piece in my mind’s radio was Air on the G String, played with Yuuki’s lovely tone. I concentrated on giving myself over to its gentle melody, and succeeded.

My usual dream awaited me, where I was guiding Yuuki through a maze. I knew the pathway through it, but every time we came to a fork in the road my memory was inexplicably fuzzy, and the ensuing agitation made my memory worse, so that with every choice I made, I’d lose more and more confidence. But I couldn’t let Yuuki see my anxiety, so I kept walking, trying my best to keep my nerves sharp and my mind alert so I wouldn’t make a single misstep. I must not get lost. I must guide him without fail. And yet… oh, here we are again! Somehow I always ended up in front of this wall, a cul-de-sac that looks like it’s made of… dirt?

‘Kei?’ Yuuki said with a hint of concern. 

‘Everything’s fine,’ I answered. ‘This is the right way, we can get through this wall, I know.’ But there isn’t a way through. Surely there must be something… but no, there isn't. No matter how desperately I searched, there was no way through. It’s not possible, but I can’t seem to find the hidden door.

‘Kei?’ Yuuki said timidly. 

I must have made a mistake somewhere. It feels like I’m defusing a bomb and the time is ticking away… I tried to ignore the pressure and searched again for the door that would prove me right. Don’t rush… don’t rush… if you do that you won’t find it. It has to be here — it has to!! I can’t be wrong, there must be a secret passageway to get through this wall…!!

“Hello, wake up, hey!”

I felt myself being roused from the dream with a shock, like a bubble being pricked. I couldn’t breathe… was my nose being pinched? Is that… Yuuki?

“Nngh… huh?” I let out a sleepy mumble. 

Yuuki’s tenor responded, “Come on, obocchan that’s a half-year younger than me, and pretends to have zero problems. Don’t act pretentious around me.”

Huh…?

“You may be a genius, but you’re also kind of a child. I think I get it now?”

“Yuuki…?”

“Shush, you big baby. Children should go back to sleep. Come here.” He pulled my head over and held it against his chest…uh  um…? Yuuki’s hand began to pat my shoulder in a legato rhythm. While patting me, he said in time with the rhythm like a song without a melody, “I love you. I love you so much. I really do…” He continued quietly, “I want to love you, Kei… to love and be loved. Pamper and be pampered. Give comfort and be comforted…So Kei, am I wrong for thinking that’s the kind of relationship lovers should have?”

Puzzled by this sudden question, I glanced out the window and saw it was still nighttime. I pondered my answer before replying,“…No.”

Then Yuuki asked, “Do you really mean that? Or are you just placating me?”

In the darkness of the room, I saw from the glowing hands of the clock that it was after three in the morning. “I’m not placating you…”

“So, I can trust that’s how you really feel?” There was no hint of drowsiness in Yuuki’s voice.

“I… what exactly do you want me to say?” I was genuinely bewildered by this situation. 

His retort was immediate, “You should have told me that you were shocked when you didn’t advance at the competition.”

His words vibrated directly into my head from his thin chest that he was holding me against, making my heart pound.

“You had every right to be upset and depressed because it wasn’t supposed to go that way.”

Every breath I took filled my nose with the sweet smell of Yuuki’s body, his warmth spreading gently into my lungs. 

Yuuki continued, “But instead you put up a wall between us, trying to only show me your strong side, to push me away.”

What…?

“You don’t consider me as your lover, your equal.”

W-wait, hold on, I don’t—-

“You don’t need me because you can handle everything on your own.”

“That’s not true!” I said out loud.

“It definitely is,” came the swift counterattack.

“It is not, I swear.” I’ve never thought I didn’t need him. I’ve never had a single criticism of—

“Hmm, is that so? Then I guess I was wrong.” With my head pressed against his chest, Yuuki’s sharp tenor was a roar. “It was all in my ‘ordinary person’ imagination that I thought you’re a human being with difficulties and worries…”

Yuuki?

“As your lover, is it presumptuous of me to want to share not only in your joys, but in your hardships as well? I’m not even qualified to listen to your complaints…”

Yuuki!?

“Let alone be allowed to support you emotionally. I guess you want to tell me ‘stop being so self-absorbed, you idiot!’”

“Y-Yuuki…” Wait, hold on—

“It’s fine. I understand. If that’s what you want, then that’s how we’ll be.”

What the hell is he talking about?!

“I won’t offend you by worrying about you like an idiot. I’ll just remember that I’m so much less than you, and act accordingly. I apologize for thinking that we were ‘give and take’ partners! I’m very sorry, I stand corrected—!!”

“Yuuki, Yuuki!” I tried to shake him into silence, to stem the tide of his anger, and nuzzled my face into his beautiful chest; I was both surprised and embarrassed to hear my voice come out as a strained cry. I inhaled, preparing to refute all the awfulness he’d just said — and my breath was filled with Yuuki’s scent… the warm, heady scent of his skin… and that was when I felt it. A sudden gush of inexplicable emotion burst from my eyes! I’m… crying…? Why… why? But these are indeed tears… running hotly from the corners of my eyes…. Why…?

Puzzled, but also feeling somehow relieved, I felt the warmth of the overflowing liquid trickle down my cheeks. I heard Yuuki whisper in my ear, “Kei… you’re finally mine. You’ve finally let me see your heart.“

My… heart?

“I’m happy! I’m so happy to hold you like this. I love you…”

He’s… happy…?

“I love you…”

Huh…? I wasn’t sure what Yuuki was trying to say or why… but I was sure that right now, in this moment, I felt very… comfortable.

I wanted to put aside the nagging questions of what and why and just be present — so I did. I focused my attention on listening to Yuuki’s heartbeat through his chest, savoring the warm sensation of tears welling up and spilling down, as if each tear were filling a cavity in my heart. I wasn’t choked up, they just quietly fell from the corners of my eyes to my cheeks, where they were absorbed into the terry cloth of Yuuki’s robe. It was already soaking wet, but that was okay, because Yuuki didn’t seem to mind.

I wondered how long we had been like that, only realizing my tears had stopped when Yuuki gently stroked my hair. He placed a silent kiss on my forehead, then slid down into my arms, settling into a position where his nose was nuzzled against my chest and my arm was his pillow. He let out a sigh of relief. Feeling the weight of his head resting on my arm… the warmth of his breath blowing into my chest in a relaxed andante… the steady rhythm of his body breathing in my arms, the sensation of his warm skin… there was something about how he fell asleep, as if he had given everything he had to me. It enveloped me in the most peaceful feeling…like full, gentle waves… 

I tried to pinpoint what this warm, earnest feeling was that had seeped into my heart, replacing the tears which had ceased flowing. But by that point my ability to think was already caught in the sweet temptation of sleep, and I succumbed to it before I could resist.

—

Why had I shed tears like that? It was a mystery I still hadn’t solved even now, while sitting in the green seat of the bullet train bound for Niigata. Why did I cry at that moment…?

“Um, Tounoin-kun…”

I turned when I heard the gentle tenor call my name. Standing in the aisle, Yuuki gestured with what looked like sandwiches in a paper box, along with some canned coffee.

“Uh, here’s breakfast,” he explained as he handed it to me, then bowed to the passenger seated next to me. “Excuse my reach, sir.”

Apparently most of the tickets had been reserved when Yuuki bought his, so we were seated apart from each other. I had a window seat for two next to a middle-aged man of unknown occupation, and Yuuki’s seat was on the aisle three seats back, next to a man in a business suit.

I’d thought about asking the guy next to me to switch seats with Yuuki, but decided against it since the two-hour window gave me a good chance to think things through. I needed to resolve the matter as soon as possible, since it made me feel uneasy not knowing the answer: why did I cry at that moment…? 

Although the fact I cried didn’t bother me in and of itself, I didn’t like not knowing the reason for it. The shock of not advancing was not a reason to cry, contrary to what Yuuki thought. Although he was concerned about that, for me it was the same as what I experienced at the University of the Arts, and only served to further confirm that I was at odds with the Japanese classical music world. And it doesn’t bother me in the slightest if someone dislikes me; I have my own way of doing things.

Well… I’m sure Yuuki would have been happy had I won, and the people in Fujimi as well. But for me, I conducted the only way I thought was correct, and it was the jury’s right to dislike it and not advance me accordingly. I already analyzed that situation and came to the conclusion that I had no regrets about it and moved on. So in other words, I definitely wasn’t shocked from losing like Yuuki thought. 

Or perhaps, is there a part of me that is actually concerned with what other people think…? My early encounters with Yuuki made me realize that I was wrong to think I knew everything there was to know about myself. I found there were passions within me that couldn’t be controlled through sheer willpower, and that I was far more foolish and weak than what my ego previously believed, and this informed me of what I needed to do going forward. In order to build a more resolute self, I needed to work harder to overcome my own shortcomings, have more supporting evidence for my beliefs, and to learn and study more.

(Hm? More supporting evidence for my beliefs…? Does that mean that I wasn’t as okay as I thought with the fact that I failed to advance? But as I already established, I don’t have such feelings… no, I don’t. What Yuuki suspected isn’t there.)

“Hey sonny.”

I turned to look at the passenger next to me.

“Ahh, I was just wond’rin what’s wrong,” he scratched his head, speaking with an unusual accent that was strangely endearing. “Ya had me worried, all starin’ inta space and still as a statue, I thought ya might be havin’ some kinda problem.”

“Oh, I was just thinking to myself.” I replied, then realizing perhaps this curt answer would have embarrassed the man for his kind concern, I added, “I’m sorry to have worried you.”

“Nahh, it’s nothin.’ Long as yer okay.”

He seemed like a good person, though at first he came off as a bit gruff, and I was getting bored of my own thoughts.  And though it would have been good to get some sleep, I dislike sleeping in public.

“Are you on your way home?” I turned to him, trying to start a bit of small talk.

“Me? Yeah, goin’ home for Bon.”

“Where are you from?”

“Toyama.” The man hummed a folksy tune. 

“What is that?”

“Eh? Oh, it’s for ‘Owara Kaze no Bon.’ It’s usually played on tha kokyuu tho’. The festival’s in September, but this year I don’t have vacation in September.”

“Kaze no Bon… is that right? It has an elegant sound, doesn’t it?”

“When ya play it on the kokyuu it sounds mighty sad. Well, I guess it’s fer the dead’re comin’ back, so a little sadness in the sound is fittin’.”

“Could you sing it for me?”

“The Owara song?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not like mah voice is any good, ya know?”

“Sing it so only I can hear it.”

“You’re one funny fella.” 

The man sang the Bon song from his hometown quietly, with a bitter smile. I could tell that the cheerful yet sad Japanese melody was indeed colored with the appropriate sound for welcoming departed spirits back from the shores of death.

“That’s ‘bout it.”

“Is there a recording of it?”

“Ah, well… sure there’s one somewhere.”

“I’d like to hear the version on kokyuu, or perhaps live if possible.”

“Ahh ya might find it in Yatsuo, a town in Toyama. From September first to third the whole town’ll be shut up for Owara. When I was young I hated it, it was so sad.”

I wondered what it would sound like if Yuuki played it on the violin. I only had a faint recollection of how the kokyuu sounded, but I knew it was a stringed instrument. (However, I wasn’t sure if a Western instrument’s sound would be suitable as a medium for a Japanese folk song until I actually heard the original). It was, of course, simply a spur-of-the-moment idea to pass the travel time. The words Kaze no Bon and the obscure melody the man had taught me — despite not having a very good voice — lingered in my ear.

—

“Well, if we take the fast train we’ll get there in 30 minutes, but we have to wait 40 minutes for it to arrive. The slow train will get us there in about 40 minutes anyway, so let’s just take the slow train.” Yuuki suggested as we exited the ticket gate of the Niigata bullet train station, looking at the transfer timetables. 

“I’ll do whatever you suggest,” I replied.

“Then we’d better hurry. This way!”

“Alright.”

At Shinjuku and other train stations, Yuuki always carefully read the signs as he walked, but now he carried himself with the air of a local who knew his way around. He walked ahead quickly, holding his violin in his right hand and a bulging stadium bag in his left; the bag contained a change of clothes for one night and some gifts he’d brought for his family.

“Have you ever been here before?” He asked me.

“This is my first time. I’ve done little travel within Japan.” I’d actually only been to Kyoto and Izu. Kyoto was in junior high for a school trip, and then Izu was where the Tounoin family had a vacation home that also doubled as a Fujimi Bank employee retreat… but the only field trip I went on was in fourth grade, and the only thing I remembered about the vacation home was that it was right on the ocean. I didn’t even recall where on the Izu Peninsula it was. That villa was where I learned… I was not the son of the person I’d believed was my mother.

I learned that my butler, Izawa — who was closer to me than anyone else — was being abused by my grandmother and Hatsu, who’d always been so gentle with me, and for the first time in my life I felt a deep-seated anger and sadness at the cruelty and dishonesty of everyone.

“I’m neglecting Kei-san?!” I remember hearing my ‘mother’ yell, a conversation that wasn’t meant for my ears. The person she was talking to was probably my father, but I could only hear my ‘mother’s’ voice. “It’s true, I didn’t bear Kei-san from my own womb, but he’s Fumiko-oneesama’s only heir, and I raised him with my own hands! As he’s the heir to the Tounoin family, you know I’ve been more devoted to him than even Sayoko! I know I’m responsible for him, I will fulfill my duty to be Kei-san’s mother with all my heart.”

At that moment, the parent-child relationship I had with her ended. Even though we were still related, the fact that what I thought was motherly love was to her nothing more than a sense of responsibility and duty hurt me more than not being blood relations. The villa that I had liked so much, where you could hear the sea murmur all day long, became the tragic stage where I suffered a psychological trauma that could never be healed — and I’ve never set foot there since.

“Here’s the train, let’s get on.”

The platform Yuuki had led us to was somewhat deserted, and didn’t seem like the station of the major railroad company that served the main line for the region; it was full of passengers that looked like junior and high school students. The train passed through the quintessentially provincial landscape of central Niigata City, past the residential areas and into a series of flat rice paddies. The train arrived at the station just as the number of houses along the train line increased and the house density was more pronounced. After getting off at the S Station, Yuuki headed for the bus terminal. 

“Well, looks like they haven’t uh… increased the number of buses that go to Kamisaka-yama…” He mumbled and turned to me, “Most of the buses are in the morning.”

“We can take a cab.” I suggested, but Yuuki frowned and rubbed his head in frustration.

“No, it’s a long way, it’s even a long walk from the bus stop. I’ll call the house. It’s Saturday, maybe somebody can pick us up. I’m sorry, could you watch my stuff?” 

From what I knew about Yuuki’s situation with his sisters, and considering Yuuki’s personality, it was probably awkward for him to ask them for a ride. However, Yuuki dashed into a phone booth and I had no choice but to let him (I didn’t mind paying the cab fare). But I know Yuuki doesn’t want to make his guest spend money. He has strong opinions about things like this, and is very inflexible about it.

After going into the booth, Yuuki turned his back to me and talked into the receiver, then came out while flapping the collar of his shirt like he was hot. I was relieved to see his face had brightened compared to before he made the call. “Phew — it’s soooo hot! You’d think since it snows so much here in the winter that it would be cooler in the summer.”

“But with the breeze it’s pretty cool.”

“Well if it wasn’t, I’d be irritated.” While talking he glanced at his watch, “My sister’s coming to pick us up, but it’ll take at least an hour for her to get here. So since we have time to kill… are you interested in any Edo-period architecture? There’s a place around here that was the feudal lord’s villa.”

“Anywhere you want to go, as long as it’s with you.” I smiled at him, and his expression softened as I’d anticipated.

“Well then, shall we? It’s about a five-minute walk from here.” He took his bag back from me and hefted it onto his shoulder.

“Are there no coin-operated lockers at this station?”

“Huh? Oh, this? It’s not that heavy. Ah, but I guess it does kind of suck to lug baggage around when you’re sight-seeing, right?”

“No, mine is also light.”

“Are you sure? I think they might have lockers over there.”

“Could you change the pick-up location to the villa? Or have they already left?”

“No, my sister takes at least 30 minutes to put her makeup on and stuff. But it would be less of a hassle for her to pick us up over there, and that way we can take our time looking. I’ll call her back, then.”

“I’ll watch your bag.” Yuuki handed it to me — which was by no means light — and I followed after him. I put my own bag down outside the booth and waited for him to make the call. This time, Yuuki started talking without turning his back to me; I knew the first time he called it was more stressful, because he was prepared to get a negative answer. Through the glass of the phone booth I could hear Yuuki’s voice; oh, his Niigata dialect is coming out, isn’t it?

“Yeah, that’s right. Is that okay? Yeah, since I know it takes you 30 minutes to get ready, I figured I’d show my friend around some places… well, you could get us at 10 or 10:30pm… okay, we’ll be in the parking lot at 10:30pm. Okay, see you then. Thanks.”

He hung up the phone, turned around and noticed me looking at him and gave me an ‘OK’ with his fingers. Yuuki’s expression, which had been somewhat stiff since this morning, had gone back to its usual cheerfulness, so I might as well concentrate on enjoying the sights for now.

“This is Yaeko, my second sister. She works in a nursery school. Yaeko, this is Tounoin-san, a real professional musician, the assistant conductor of the M-Kyo Symphony Orchestra in Tokyo.”

She waited for Yuuki to finish the introduction, then said, “I’m his sister, Yaeko.” She bowed her head shyly. “The countryside must be mighty different for you, right?” She said as she looked up at me.

Usually siblings share some common features, but Yuuki bore almost no resemblance to Yaeko Morimura; she was short and plump — if Yuuki was a rabbit, then Yaeko was a hamster. She deftly drove us out of the parking lot in her 4WD car, which seemed entirely too big for her. 

“Yuki’s never brought a friend from Tokyo before, an’ when he told us you were such an amazing person, the conductor of the M-Kyo, my sister got real excited.” The way she said it was kind of awkward, like Yaeko wasn’t accustomed to dealing with strangers. 

“No way, y’all haven’t gone around telling people about him, have you? If we’re swamped with a bunch of townspeople I’m gonna be annoyed,” Yuuki said with an admonishing tone.

“When would we have time for that? We’ve been busy preparing for the Bon Festival visitors.”

“Sorry for the intrusion,” I interjected. “Having a guest like me so suddenly must be bothersome.” Considering Yuuki’s standing in the family, and being a guest in their house, I figured I should try and stay in her good graces. 

Sure enough, Miss Yaeko perked up, “Oh no no, it’s the Bon Festival in the country, so women are always busy ‘round this time of year. One more visitor won’t make no difference. Besides, we got so many guests an’ relatives an’ acquaintances, you can’t tell whether you’re comin’ or goin,’ right? Yuki, we’ll take good care of ‘em.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s someone I respect, y’know?”

Heh…Yuuki really seems at home when he speaks in his dialect. I guess that’s what it means to go back to your roots. The rest of the conversation was mostly Yuuki and his sister talking about relatives and who was doing what, the car hurtling through the flat rice fields to the mountain road. We reached the house after about thirty minutes.

‘The Farmer in the Dell’ came to mind… all the houses sat behind low stone walls, surrounded by a sea of swaying green rice plants. They felt almost isolated like islands, but not in a lonely way. It was the kind of pastoral landscape unique to farming villages, similar to those I saw in the German countryside. 

So this is the house he grew up in…?

My isolated island image was revised when Miss Yaeko drove the car around to the back of the house, which sat inside a large stone walled perimeter and behind that, a large barn with an orange tractor, with plenty of room between it and the house for parking. I tried to imagine a young Yuuki playing here, but found it difficult. Miss Yaeko parked next to a white sedan, which was parked alongside a red compact car. 

“Did my brother-in-law get a new car?”

“The white one? It’s Chieko’s.”

“Ohhh? Guess her business is going well, eh?”

“She an’ her boyfriend split the cost, so she drives him to work instead of leaving it at his place.”

“Oh really, she met somebody? From work, like?”

“They went to junior high together, he got transferred here from HQ and they bumped into each other.”

“So when’s the wedding? Are they getting married?”

“Ahhh, what’re you talkin’ about?”

“Well if they already bought a car together…”

“He’s been transferred from one place to another, and I hear his parents live in Osaka now.”

“So who is it? Do I know ‘em?”

“The second son of Hachiro-san in Tadano! You remember Yoshiaki?”

“I thought Hachiro-san’s family moved to Nagoya?”

“They went to Osaka.”

“Hmmm.” I said, and Yuuki looked at me as if he’d forgotten I was there. He gave me an apologetic look.

“Sorry,” He said in a whisper. “Chieko nee-san is kinda my rival, so I gotta get the dirt on her.”

Rival…? But compared to me and Sayoko, theirs seemed like a very friendly, spirited brother-sister relationship.

The entrance to the house was a hinged door with an aluminum sash, but when you stepped inside it was an old-fashioned farmhouse with a large earthen floor. It seemed like it had spent decades exposed to the elements, and the wood of the pillars and thresholds were a brilliant shiny black. 

“Yuki-niisan is back!” Miss Yaeko announced loudly.

“Welcome home Yuki-niisan!” Two young boys came running into the room smiling widely, then froze in amazement when they saw me.

“Junichiro, Koji, come on now, how ‘bout a ‘hello’ for our guest?” Yuuki chided them.

Junichiro was probably the bigger one and Koji the smaller. The two brothers — who looked to be around kindergarten age — bowed their heads, but their eyes remained fixed on me in curiosity.

“Is he a gaijin?” Junichiro asked Yuuki.

“What the heck? He’s Japanese! His name’s Tounoin-san.”

“But he’s real big.”

“Ahahah, where’d you get this weird idea that all tall people are gaijin?”

Then a motherly looking woman came out from a room in the back. I saw Yuuki’s face change to an expression both nostalgic and somewhat sad. “I’m home, Fumi-neechan.”

“Welcome back.” She said with a motherly smile, then kneeled down on the tatami mat with her hands on the ground. “Thank you for coming all this way. I’m Fumiko, his older sister. Please feel free to make yourself at home.”

“Fumiko-san, is it?” I blurted out… I don’t know why, but now I had to explain the reason for my comment, so there wasn’t any misunderstanding. “Forgive me. It just caught me by surprise that you share the same name as my mother.”

I didn’t need to go further into explaining that she’s not the ‘mother’ I have now, but the birth mother I only knew from photographs. Mrs. Fumiko was like Miss Yaeko in that she didn’t resemble Yuuki much. 

She put a hand up to a full, girlish cheek in an endearing gesture that suggested she was more familiar with socializing, “What a coincidence, I wonder if mine’s spelled the same way? Tounoin-san… was that right?”

“Yes, my name is Kei Tounoin.”

“Please come in. Oh, um, but mind the kamoi.” 

Miss Fumiko’s comment — on account of my height — made Yuuki laugh. Does he still remember the fiasco on my first day at Fujimi?

“Yes, come, come.” Yuuki, who was still grinning, led me through the entryway into the altar room. I went up to the Buddhist altar where Bon Festival offerings had been cheerfully placed, and looked up at the framed pictures of the deceased that were lined up on the right side.

“Yeah, the one on the end is my mother, and next to her is my father. They were taken from one of my relative’s wedding pictures, so he’s wearing a suit.”

Now I see: his sisters take after their father, while Yuuki takes after his mother.

“I always remember my father working in his field clothes and boots. Mother is so young in that picture, isn’t she?” Then he fell silent. The words of longing and apology for his parents must have been swirling in his heart.

“Oh hey, welcome back, prodigal son.” This must be the third sister who’d say something so rude. She was standing in the hallway, looking into the room at us. She was the most attractive of the three, with a pretty face and fierce eyes, and looked to be about 25 or 26.

“The minute I’m back… can’t she give me a break!?” Yuuki mumbled under his breath, then turned to me. “This is my other sister, Chieko-neesan, who’s barely older than me. This is Tounoin-san.” His curt introduction seemed to be because of his particular relationship with Miss Chieko.

“I’m Kei Tounoin.”

As I bowed, she walked up to me and knelt down, showing some knowledge of proper manners by putting her thumb and fingers together in front of her. “My name is Chieko. Thank you for taking care of my ungrateful brother.” Although you could take it as sarcasm depending on how you interpreted her words, there was no venom in Miss Chieko’s tone, and all of her bluster seemed to be the way she expressed her affection for Yuuki. She raised her head and asked Yuuki, “So, how many nights are y’all gonna stay?”

“Just tonight.”

“Wha— just one night?!”

“Yeah, I have a competition coming up real soon, y’know?”

“Then, why didn’t you come after the competition?! If you’re just gonna boomerang back, it’s a waste of the train fare and Tounoin-san won’t have a lick of time to relax!”

“Yes, but y’know, it’s the Bon Festival… I have to pay respects to my parents and relatives.”

“You’re doin’ the Nippon National Competition, right? So if you win… that means you’ll be the best in Japan… So I guess you’ve come to ask for our parents’ blessing.”

“Hahah, that’s right. I’d be happy if they would support me.”

“Well that’s a given, why wouldn’t they? They always doted on Yuki too much.”

“Ahaha…” Yuuki was smiling, but his face was full of mixed emotions again. 

Chieko’s hand flashed out and I heard a ‘smack!’ as she slapped Yuuki’s cheek, “So get your shit together kid, or you ain’t gonna win.” Then she stood up.

“Ah…” Yuuki stroked his reddened cheek and looked at me sheepishly. “She’s always been quick to resort to violence.”

“I can tell she loves you, though.” I said.

“I guess so… Everyone’s always said that Chi-neesan is hardest on me.” The quiet smile on his face told me exactly how important his family was to him. 

(Yuuki’s relationship with his family is 180º different from mine, since — with the exception of my grandfather and Izawa — I could care less whether I cut ties with them or they shun me… Yet he’s still chosen to be with me?)

Even though he risks losing everything by choosing the path of heresy, he took it regardless. I’m grateful to you, Yuuki. Again, I swear to you that I’ll never let you be unhappy — no, I surely will make you happy. Yes, I will.

—

Morisada, Yuuki’s brother-in-law, came to greet us as soon as he came in for lunch.

“Hey there Yuuki, glad you’re back.” He said with a broad smile. 

He seemed like a simple, good-natured man. Concerned about the smell of his sweat-soaked work clothes, he told me that he’d spent the morning building a stage for the Bon Odori dance.

“If you’re in any sort of government position you can’t escape participating in local activities. All afternoon we’re building the foundations of the stage at the junior high, and there’s a shortage of men to help, so we’re all in high demand.”

When we ate lunch in the living room around the heated stove, I discovered that Mrs. Fumiko had four children; Junichiro and Koji had two-year-old twin sisters. Yuuki’s brother-in-law had to leave right after he ate because of a meeting, so it was just us and the women eating together. I’d never experienced eating at a table with small children, but it was certainly very noisy. The children were all very young and not uneducated, but their inexperience with the art of eating properly caused a lot of commotion for Yuuki, who took upon himself to supervise his nephews.

“Koji, you’re spilling! Oh — Junichiro, you too! Neechan, get a towel, a towel! Eat over your bowl, stop looking the other way!”

The cause of their distraction was me, because they kept staring with curious gazes.

“Aw, c’mon Koji, you did it again. Is this niichan that strange to you?” Yuuki said, picking up the somen that had dropped off of Koji’s chopsticks.

“Gotta admit, he’s pretty unusual even to me.” Miss Chieko came to her nephew’s defense, in her typical outspoken manner. “How tall are you anyway, Tounoin-san?”

“Around 190cm.”

“Oh really? I thought you must be over two meters.”

“Chi-neesan!” 

Oh Yuuki, don’t worry, she doesn’t mean anything by it.

“I think ya look even taller ‘cause you’re so skinny.” Mrs. Fumiko added without skipping a beat. “But then Yuuki looks short because he’s skinny. Are you really 170cm?”

“I’m 175!”

“Wow, you’re taller than Tadano-kun? Didn’t seem like it…”

“Speaking of that, I heard you’re dating him?”

“Huh, what’cha talkin’ about?”

“You’d better put a ring on it if you like him. You’re already 26 y’know! — owww!” 

Miss Yaeko laughed at Yuuki’s pained face when his feet got kicked, “That’s right, isn’t it, Yuki? I said the same thing to Chie; if she waits too long to pull the trigger she’ll miss the boat.”

Yuuki looked dismayed.

“No, it’s just… you never know what’s gonna happen? So if you make a connection with someone you should take it, that’s what I mean. It doesn’t matter who’s older or younger; Yae-neechan might meet someone too.

Realizing that the same line of thought could be applied to him, Yuuki seemed to get more flustered.

“Ah, um, maybe there’ll be a ‘love at first sight’ situation tomorrow! Yae-neechan is very laid back about relationships and dating.”

“What are you talking about, Yuki should get married first!”

“Huh!? W-what are you talking about?”

“Well you’re already 24. You must have at least a couple’a people you like, eh?”

“Oh, um, if I had more than one that’d be a problem.”

“Ahh I bet he don’t even have one. Maybe it’s time to get some matchmaking photos lined up.”

“N-no! Chi-neesan I don’t need a matchmaker—“

“Ohhhh so there is someone, then? Hmmmm~”

“T-that’s…” Yuuki turned bright red with embarrassment and, perhaps subconsciously, glanced at me.

(Hello? Yuuki, if you look at me you’ll be incriminating yourself…)

I smiled gently and gave him an escape route, “The classical music world is much more stressful than you can see from the outside. Both Morimura-san and I are not in a place right now to start relationships. To be honest, I just lost in a competition the other day that I felt sure to win.”

Yuuki lowered his head in shock, and the sisters looked at each other with looks that said (oh dear…). 

I continued, “I was feeling very down about the whole situation, so I reluctantly asked Morimura-san if I could accompany him here to help cheer myself up.”

“Well I’ll be…” Mrs. Fumiko gave me a sympathetic sigh. 

“A heartbreak trip, huh?” Miss Chieko was blunt with her choice of words, but they never seemed malicious. 

“No, nothing so serious as that.”

“It was a big deal though, wasn’t it?”

“So…there’re competitions just for conductors?”

“Oh yes, many, like Besançon.” All the older sisters resembled Yuuki in how they talked frankly and earnestly, with no hidden motives.

“So what about you, Yuki?”

“Yeah, well… I think we’ll go visit the graves now.” Yuuki gave me a wink when he said it, to make it obvious he wanted to change the subject. “What would you like to do, Tounoin-san?”

“I’ll go with you, if you don’t mind my company.” Of course that was the purpose of this trip.

“I haven’t cleaned the graves off yet,” Mrs. Fumiko said tentatively.

“It’s okay, I’ll do it. I have to fulfill my filial duty to my parents.”

“I can help you.” It was only a casual comment, but apparently it was an unusual offer for a guest to make; Yuuki’s sisters clamored to stop me out of courtesy, but he cut them off.

“That’ll be helpful, it’s faster if we both do it. I mean, you’re more comfortable cleaning graves than playing with Junichiro and the other kids, right Tounoin-san?”

“Yes. I’m afraid I can’t babysit.”

“And you wouldn’t want to just sit around here, now would you?”

Yuuki timed his remark while getting up… it was all very well coordinated, just like a concertmaster taking the stage… he made it so it would cut off further protests and help me exit. As we were about to leave the living room, his nephew and their siblings followed us out.

“Yuki-niisan, are you going to the pool?”

“Yeah Nii-tan, the pool!”

Yuuki laughed and shook his head, “Oh no no, we’re going to clean off your grandparent’s graves.”

“After you’re done can we go to the pool?!”

“Yuki-niisan is busy this year,” Mrs. Fumiko intervened between Yuuki and the kids, who were pouting. “Your father can take you to the pool later. Right now it’s time for a nap, see.”

Yuuki grinned at me as the boys were led off with disappointed faces. “I took ‘em to the pool last year. Kids have the memory of an elephant, don’t they?”

“I’m sure they’ll cherish those memories of playing with their kind uncle for the rest of their lives.” I took a scythe and a plastic bucket, and Yuuki grabbed a bucket of water and a broom.

I naturally had imagined they would have a temple cemetery, but the place Yuuki led me to seemed to be a humble family cemetery with only around ten tombstones of various sizes that jutted out of a small hill, a bit past the field that was behind the house. 

“Yeah, around here each family keeps their graves on their own property, so when a Buddhist memorial service is held, the temple comes out to read the sutras. Since we’re in the country, we keep to the old ways,” Yuuki explained as he quickly and skillfully cut the summer grass that had grown up around the small cemetery, which surrounded the graves that were arranged in a horseshoe shape. “Since my brother-in-law, Yae-neesan and Chi-neesan all have jobs, Fumi-neechan usually takes care of the fields and rice paddies. So she doesn’t exactly have time to come out and mow the lawn here, y’know?” Yuuki said, making an excuse for his sister. He stood up and sighed while stretching his back after being bent over for so long. He looked at the cutting I’d done, which was a mess compared to what he’d done.

“Don’t push yourself,” he said with a smile. “It’s dangerous to work with a scythe if you’re not used to it, you might cut your foot. There’s not much more left, it won’t take me long.”

“No, I want to help you.”

“I don’t want you to be sore afterwards.”

“Oh, no… don’t underestimate the legs and feet of a conductor.”

“…sorry.”

That wasn’t about the conversation we were just having; he was apologizing for me bringing up the subject of the competition to deflect his sisters’ prying. I sensed it in an instant, as if I could read Yuuki’s mind.

“Don’t be.” I said.

“It’s not your problem to deal with.”

“Well…” I grabbed a weed that had sprouted high, cut it off at the base, then moved onto the next one. “The Competition is over. I did what I wanted to do, and I don’t regret it. I’m actually rather happy with how things turned out. If I’d won first place, I would have been shackled with the performance. So it was a blessing in disguise that I wasn’t selected. Maybe it sounds like sour grapes, but the experience only served to reaffirm for me the current state of classical music in Japan; there’s no way for artistry in music to flourish in a system that merely ranks people. That’s why I —”

Yuuki said something so quietly that I couldn’t hear him.

“Huh?” I looked back and saw Yuuki busily cutting the grass with his back to me, but I thought I heard him say something. I tried to quickly piece together the fragments I caught, and it sounded something like, ‘That’s just running away from the problem.’

He’s saying I… ran away? The words pricked my throat like a fish bone accidentally swallowed. I ran away…? “That’s rather harsh, isn’t it?” I said quietly and looked at Yuuki.

He was clearing the weeds around the newer-looking graves, which were probably where his parents were buried, slowly and carefully cutting around them. With his back bent and eyes down, Yuuki’s profile looked lost in thought as he pretended to only be focused on the task at hand. Sweat dripped down his cheeks to his chin, his face flushed slightly from working in the heat. He’s always faithful, diligent, always… earnest in his love…

(Maybe I had… “pushed it aside”) I thought to myself. I’d tried to handle the matter as nonchalantly as possible, so the consequences of failing to meet his expectations wouldn’t make him too sad. I thought what I had done was out of concern for him, who’s much more sensitive than I, but… perhaps my true intention was something else. 

The night I lost the competition, I tried to blow off the vulgar resentment I felt, looking up at the light in the apartment where Yuuki was and feeling that I couldn’t go back until I had reached some kind of conclusion that wasn’t just an excuse… or… well, maybe I just didn’t want to look bad in front of him. Being rejected on a stage full of promise clearly wounded my pride, so I healed it with logic… the way I always have.

But to Yuuki, my attitude came off as stubbornness. That’s what he told me in our late night conversation and… I cried… when I heard him say that. The reason was…

“You… saved me.”

“Hm? Did’ ja say something?”

Responding to someone who’s talking to themselves not only makes the person talking feel embarrassed to have been heard, but also makes them uncomfortable because their most sacred personal space has been breached without permission. However, right now what I felt was relief; I was relieved that it had opened the door to discussion.

“I’ve been thinking about it…” Yuuki made no comment, but I could tell that he was keeping an ear on me even as he was cutting the grass. “I wondered why I cried in that moment with you. I’m not bothered by the crying itself, but I just couldn’t understand why it happened like that, so I kept searching for a reason.”

“So’s that why you were so preoccupied?”

“Did it seem like I was?”

“Mmhmm… I just wasn’t sure why you were so broody after that. I thought maybe you were upset with me.”

“Why would I be upset with you?”

“I thought maybe I hurt your pride.”

“No, nothing of the sort, it’s just… I find it incredible. I’ve always felt that I should never show my bad side to you of all people, but then I allowed myself to be seen in such a way without feeling guilty about it. Of course, I think it’s only because you gave me the space to do so that I was able to feel that way.”

“Well then, you’re welcome to do that anytime.” His voice floated over the grass-scented breeze past my ears, and his words seeped into my heart like water into parched earth. “From what I know about child psychology, you probably weren’t hugged enough as a child. Maybe your parents were too busy for that.” Yuuki stood up. “I won’t take the place of your mother. But you know, this is like what you said before, about being a ‘port’ in a storm for each other. That sort of thing isn’t such a bad idea, I reckon.” As he spoke, Yuuki stretched his back and tapped his slender waist with his fists. “All right, it’s done. Let’s move the cuttings over there.”

“Okay.” 

We started to gather the grass and weeds that had been cut, quickly forming a dense pile, then finished by sweeping the smaller bits away with the broom. When everything was completely cleaned up, Yuuki pulled out a sweating can of cold cider from the supermarket bag he’d brought along. 

“Let’s take a break.”

We sat down under a tree that had something like cherry blossoms on it, its branches spreading out next to the cemetery. 

“Thanks for your help.”

“I didn’t really do much, did I?”

“No, you did, thank you.” 

We were sitting side by side on the ground, and in front of us the landscape of a typical Japanese countryside spread out: looking down from the small hill we were on there was the green of the rice fields with houses scattered all over the place, and deep green mountains surrounding it all. 

“♬Let’s sing tonight under the moon~” I suddenly thought of a bit of the Owara song I’d learned on the train, but this was the only part I remembered.

“♬The spring breeze comes, the ice will melt~” I was still singing, but Yuuki smiled at me as he joined in the song. “I’m surprised, your knowledge is so vastyou even know folk music.”

“Not really. You see, I only know that one verse.”

“Well, either way. It’s a folk song from my hometown, which is why it’s familiar to me.”

“I was told it was from the Toyama prefecture.”

“Yes, that’s where my grandma’s from. She took me once to the Kaze no Bon festival, when she was still in good health… I must have been in first or second grade then.”

I immediately committed the nostalgic look on his face to my memory and tucked it away; I want him to tell me more about his past that I don’t know. “I’ve heard it’s usually played on the kokyuu.”

“It’s played on the kokyuu with a shamisen accompaniment — which I actually wanted to learn at one point; I heard my grandma’s younger brother play the kokyuu. He looked so awesome walking around in a kimono and traditional hat while playing — never mind that he was old enough to be my grandfather. He was a thin, tan man with good posture, but the way he played the kokyuu with his sturdy, sinewy hands made a big impression on me… I used to pretend I was bowing with the handle of a ladle. Thinking about it now, that was pretty silly, eh?”

“It must have really struck a chord with your innate musicality.”

“Maybe, who knows…”

“I’m glad you chose to play the violin. Otherwise I would never have gotten to meet you.”

“That’s for sure, I can’t imagine you going into folk music!” Yuuki said, and burst into laughter. “Any more than I can see you in a tanzen or sitting in a kotatsu.  Or doing the steady beat of a taiko drum… don-don-don-don.”

“You don’t think it suits me?”

“I mean, I feel liked you’d be like ‘Now then, let’s take it more at an andante now’ or something.” Yuuki started laughing, a bright sound that matched the clear blue sky above. “S-sorry, i-it just seems like something you’d see in a comedy skit, hahahahaha~!”

“I don’t mind. But you know, I wear traditional clothes at every New Year’s celebration.”

“Huh? Seriously?”

“Boys in my family are required to wear a formal haori and hakama.”

“Wow…” His eyes narrowed as if he were imagining me in full dress, and he blushed. “The closest I come to that is wearing a yukata.” He said, trying to cover his embarrassment, but for me it was a hint that stirred my imagination.

“I think you’d look quite sexy in a yukata.” I realized perhaps that was inappropriate when Yuuki’s face reddened, and I followed the path of his gaze. “Sorry. We’re at your parents’ graveside, after all.”

“Ahaha, it’s okay… shall we pay our respects?”

“Yes.”

The bottle of water he brought was for this. I watched Yuuki clasp his hands together and face the black mikage stone monument, and I was careful not to let my gaze interfere with his prayer. 

“Mom, Dad. This is Yuuki,” Yuuki spoke aloud to the gravestones. “After my visit last year, when I went back to Tokyo, my apartment had burned down in a fire, and I was in a really bad situation.” He paused after this brief recount. “So I have something important to tell you today...”

Only then did I realize the reason he was speaking out loud. He turned his head and looked at me, so I walked over to stand next to him. I stood up straight, facing the gravestones of Yuuki’s beloved parents, the place where their souls resided… or rather, the physical representation of their actual spirits.

“Let me introduce you. This is Kei Tounoin. He’s the permanent conductor of Fujimi, where I’m the concertmaster, and he’s also the sub-conductor of the M-Kyo Symphony Orchestra, and… he’s also the person I’ve chosen to spend my life with.”

Yuuki was telling this to his parents, whose presence was certainly there in his heart even though they appeared as silent stones.

“I’m sorry… I’m sure it’s a bit of a shock. But I wanted to come back and introduce Kei to both of you before anyone else.. I think if I were trying to be a good son it would have been better to keep it a secret… maybe I shouldn’t tell you that your only son has become gay… but… I’m very serious about this relationship, and Kei truly loves me. Even though I’m not the best or most attractive person, Kei loves me more than himself. He takes good care of me. So…”

I looked at Yuuki’s profile, his eyes closed in single-minded devotion.

“Though the eldest son is supposed to follow in his father’s footsteps, you allowed me to selfishly attend University, and I was only partially successful. And Mom, you forgave me for my selfishness. In the end I failed to achieve anything, and now I’m coming to you with this…. So I’m really… really sorry, but he loves me so much.” Yuuki said with resolve, then opened his eyes and focused them on the gravestones. 

“I wanted to come here today and tell you everything. At first I hated him. He was so pompous, and so intelligent that I felt I couldn’t compete with him even if I tried, you know? And there was a girl that I had a crush on, Kawashima-san… I-I was actually raped, and, um, I felt I could never forgive him for that. And now… it’s ironic… now we’re the closest of lovers. It’s not like the physical relationship led to this point… honestly, Kei worked very hard to start our relationship over from a clean slate, after he discovered he had actually raped me that night. And as I got to know Kei as a person, I came to understand him better and couldn’t help but be attracted to him as well…”

He looked down at the ground and a slight flush appeared on his cheeks while Yuuki continued his confession, with all the courage he could muster.

“I love this man. Even though he can be so vain and childishly stubborn that he won’t show me his true feelings, and he’s, um… well, he seems really dignified now… but he’s actually very dirty-minded. He’s a person who’ll eat anything I cook for him — even if it sucks — and give me big, silly grins. He tries to be the best partner he can be, to the point where he gives himself insomnia, a true idiot…” 

Yuuki’s words cut off abruptly, trying to swallow his rising emotions, and he wiped the tears welling up in his eyes.

“Heh, it’s so hard to explain it all, words are really so imperfect and frustrating. So I’ll conclude with this: I’ve decided that Kei Tounoin will be my life-long companion. We’re both men, but we love each other so much and are so devoted to each other that I can’t imagine being with anyone else. Even though I know how angry it will make my parents, or cause my relatives and the rest of the world to condemn me… despite that I know I can’t change my feelings. I wish I could.

I came here today knowing full well that I could be disowned. But my parents are more important to me than anyone else, and even though you might not forgive me for it, I felt that I needed to say what needed to be said. I love this man. I love Kei Tounoin, and he is the one and only person for me in this world. But, if you could…find it in your hearts… to forgive me, even if it takes a hundred years. Please…” He concluded his raw, honest prayer and his shoulders slumped with a sigh of relief. 

Beside Yuuki, I clasped my hands together in front of my chest, “This is my first time meeting you. I’m Kei Tounoin.”

“Yuuki is the only person I wish to spend my life with… I fell so deeply in love with him that I can’t see myself with anyone else. I’m sure it’s an unforgivable offense to a father and mother, but Yuuki also loves me. Please do not deny us this love. Please let Yuuki… no, excuse me, please allow your son Yuuki to take me as his partner. I beg you.” 

My knees bent of their own volition, and while kneeling I bowed my head humbly to the gravestones of Yuuki’s parents.

“This is my sincere hope. I will make Yuuki happy, I promise. Please entrust your son to me.” 

As I stayed in that bowed position, the sound of the wind rustling in the leaves of the cherry tree tickled my ears. It blew past me, caressing my back; this hometown of Yuuki’s is quiet and tranquil, and I’m taking him away from this warm sanctuary… I’m sorry. But I have no regrets. I need him, and that is absolutely non-negotiable. Even if it leaves a seed of sorrow in his heart, I can’t afford to lose him — I’m sorry for being such a selfish man.

“Kei…” 

Yuuki’s trembling voice made me raise my head. He was looking down at me, covering his mouth and sobbing. When his eyes met mine, he tried to smile with his crumpled face and said in a tearful voice, “Just now my mother… smiled at me. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but I swear I can see it.” Then his voice lowered to a muffled whisper, “I can’t help but think… maybe she forgives me?”

The sound of his voice made my heart burn, appealing to the desperation of my prayer. No, it was my eyes that were burning. I stood up and gently pulled Yuuki’s shoulders to me. 

“They say that those who believe will be saved.”

“Yes, Kei, yeah…” Yuuki said, and I hugged his trembling shoulders tightly against my chest while telling myself:

(I don’t have the sight to hear or see anything the way Yuuki does. But I have one wish, if there indeed is a presence here. Even if you don’t forgive him, please only let me know that. I’m the one that wanted him, I’m the one who captured him, he’s blameless of anything short of being brave enough to accept me. But to punish him for it — no, that was rude, a slip of the tongue from my poor upbringing. I’m ashamed for even starting to say such a thing.)

“Kei, um… could you let me go?”

I hadn’t thought about the fact that we were hugging each other in broad daylight until I heard Yuuki speak in a panicked tone.

“Sorry.” I apologized and released him.

Yuuki rushed to say, “No, ah, sorry. It’s just, um, it’s a small town… you never know when someone might walk by.”

“Yes, I understand your concern.” I smiled at him, trying to make my expression as gentle as possible. “You don’t have to worry and look upset. Though I do want to kiss you.”

“Ugh, that would be a bad idea.” His cheeks flushed and he had a concerned look in his eyes, and he waved me off. His innocent expression made me want to keep teasing him, but in front of his parents… if I mess around he’ll never be forgiven. 

So I nodded meekly and said, “I wouldn’t want to offend your mother after she found it in her heart to forgive you.”

Yuuki turned his head to the side, saying, “Yeah…” then suddenly looked up at me with a determined look in his eyes and said, “This is sudden but, I want to marry you.”

I’m sure my eyes popped out of my head. “…right here?”

“Yes.”

“Now…?”

“Yes.” His gaze was unwavering as he looked into my eyes.

“Very well then.” I nodded, and Yuuki turned to face me.

He inhaled deeply — like when he was about to play the violin — and said, “I love you. I want to spend my life together with you.” A simple, direct, sufficient vow.

I took a deep breath and said, “I love you. I wish to spend the rest of my days together with you.”

Then we kissed in front of Yuuki’s parents’ graves. It was small, just a ceremonial kiss, barely touching lips while holding each other’s hands. But I felt my heart tremble with excitement, it was beating so hard it felt like it would burst from my chest. 

This came out of the blue, with both of us dressed in sweaty clothes after working under the blazing sun, in a place that was neither the solemn chapel nor temple that I’d always secretly envisioned. There were no bouquets of well-wishes, no celebratory bells ringing… we were the only ones who knew of this ceremony… and yet, I had no complaints. 

This was unquestionably a sacred place, and our love doesn’t need the support of witnesses or blessings, because Yuuki was enough. No, more than that, it was because Yuuki proposed this ‘marriage’ on his own. I had never used ‘that’ word with him, knowing it would only bother him. I knew that deep in Yuuki’s heart the hesitation to accept love between two men played like continuo, and I’d somewhat resigned myself to the fact that he might never resolve that.

That’s why, no matter how much our relationship deepened, I decided to never say those words out loud. I even thought maybe saying ‘Please marry me’ could be like a forbidden spell that would tear our relationship apart. So I kept my mouth shut, thinking that one mere symbolic word wasn’t worth destroying what we had, living under the same roof and making love night after night. I decided to not say anything unless he said it first, and I was willing to wait a lifetime. After all, I didn’t feel like the word ‘marriage’ held any special meaning anyway.

But now… now that he asked me to marry him, and we exchanged vows and sealed them with a kiss, I felt as if the word had a magic that had taken over and suddenly made the world become brighter. Deep inside the innermost sanctum of my heart, I felt a fountain of joy open up.

“Yuuki…!” I was so moved that I reached out for him — but my arms were gently yet firmly pushed away.

“Later, when we’re home.” He looked at me, then turned bashfully away; his expression told me that Yuuki had the same excited feeling in his heart.

“Yes, when we’re home.” Just repeating Yuuki’s words, I felt the lower half of my body filled with an irresistible desire… but I chided myself and turned from the graves, willing the hot congestion between my legs to go back to its normal state. “Shall we go back?”

“Yeah.”

We walked back in tense silence, knowing that our self-control would be wiped out if we allowed ourselves to speak… but even enduring the thrill of that silence was sweet and irresistible. Tomorrow this moratorium will be lifted, when we can ensconce ourselves in our love nest. But… how to get through the ‘tonight’ that lies between now and then…

Yuuki looked so gorgeous in his yukata it was sinful.

When he suggested we bathe in the bathhouse outside the window before the sun went down — to wash away the sweat from cleaning the graves — I should have mentally prepared myself. But it sent me into shock when I saw Yuuki appear dressed in a cherry blossom-colored yukata, having taken his bath first; I made a mental note for us to take a trip to an onsen together sometime. 

Yuuki’s nephews, having been raised in a close-knit community, gave me the nickname ‘Giraffe-niichan’ and played with me. I was grateful they were there to distract me from Yuuki, since I couldn’t touch him until we returned home, and the kids seemed to like how tall I was. Yuuki said I was their ‘mo-cha’ — it was a new experience for me.

Later, to rescue me from the boys’ endless attention, Miss Yaeko brought out a photo album that was more fascinating to me than a newly-discovered Bach score. It seems that when he was young, Yuuki was even more stubborn than he is now; there was a picture of him riding a huge cow and trying to hold back tears of fear that was truly a masterpiece. Yuuki in elementary school, Yuuki in junior high, Yuuki in a stuffy collared high school uniform that suited him much better than I would have expected… I committed all of them to memory. While looking at them I thought to myself (I should buy a camera). I’d never been interested in photography before, but I thought it might be fun to take more pictures like the ones in this album.

After Morisada-shi came home, the Morimura family sat down to eat together. All ten of us gathered around the dining table to enjoy a variety of home-cooked dishes, of which there were many in both number and quantity of food. There was also a bottle of local sake poured into glasses to accompany the meal. 

“Is all this country cookin’ good enough for you, Tounoin-san?”

“Oh yes, it’s quite good.”

“Really? Glad to hear it.” 

“Surprisingly, Tounoin-kun likes rustic cooking. One of his favorite restaurants in Tokyo is a small Japanese restaurant that serves this kind of food.”

“Hey, Yuki, I was wondering… is it okay that you call a big-shot conductor of the M-Kyo by ‘kun’?”

“Yeah, sure. I mean, I’m older than him by a half year.”

“Whaaat! No way! So he’s only 24, then?!”

“He doesn’t look it, right? But his birthday just happened, didn’t it? Kei?”

“Morimura-san, I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

“Huh? You saying I’m drunk?”

“When you start calling me by name, that’s proof that you’re drunk.”

“Ahaha… hahah, did I do that? W-wow...”

“It’s fine with me.” But you don’t want your sisters and brother-in-law to find out about our relationship, do you?

“Ahhh, Yuki’s turning so red! Why are men always so weak to alcohol?”

“Tounoin-san seems strong enough. D’ya like Echigo’s sake?”

“Yes, it’s very nice.”

“Well then, let’s drink to that!”

“Itadakimasu.”

“It woulda been nice to have some ‘Yukichubai,’ but that’s not a summer sake.”

“Ah, the famous sake? If I want to have that I’ll have to come in the winter.”

The dinner full of hearty dishes and casual conversation was enjoyable enough for me, but for Yuuki…

“Hold on… Yuki? Oh dear, don’t fall asleep here!” Miss Chieko’s voice made me look over to see Yuuki slumping across the dining table.

“Really now, how can somebody from Niigata — the prefecture famous for sake — not hold their liquor?”

“I’ll help him.” I said — of course I had no intention of letting anyone else do that. I was just about to get up when Mrs. Fumiko stopped me.

“Um, thank you for taking care of Yuuki.”

“Of course.” After I answered, I wondered (maybe it seems strange to act so familiar?) So I added, “Morimura-san is a talented violinist and a good person. I will always be grateful for having met him.”

“I’m glad that you enjoy working with him.”

“Yes.” I was going to just help him walk since we were in front of his sister, but I discovered that Yuuki had actually fallen asleep. (It probably looks bad to pick him up in a bridal carry… but since they accepted my offer to help…) I must have been drunk too. 

—

In the darkness of the Japanese summer room with mosquito netting over the open end, I listened to the rustling of the night wind over the rice paddies and Yuuki’s even sleeping breaths beside me on the futon. I turned my head when a small glimmer appeared in the corner of my eye.

“Are those… fireflies?” They seemed to have wandered into the mosquito netting… I started to drift into sleep, watching their lights flicker in time to the andante rhythms around me. 

It really was quite tranquil here.

Afterword

Hello, this is Koh Akizuki. This has been the ninth volume of the Fujimi series. Since the beginning of the second part we’ve had 12 main storyline parts and 5 gaiden (side stories), so I hope you’re enjoying them. In this gaiden, “August 12th (sunny),” Yuuki goes back to his hometown, so there was a bit of excitement behind the scenes to plan for that.

First of all, where was Yuuki’s hometown actually located? The general area of Niigata wasn’t enough to describe their (first) visit there, so I had to work out the details of where exactly in the Niigata Prefecture they would be going. I decided on a certain mountainous suburb of Shin-**ta City — but then there was a bit of a problem. I thought it snowed like crazy everywhere in Niigata, but it turns out that even though the amount they get in the mountains along the Joetsu bullet train line makes headlines, there isn’t that much in the Shimbashira area. So now I was in a conundrum. However, in previous parts I did write ‘near the Tainan ski resort,’ so I went to interview people in the area outside Hatsuda… so my apologies to the residents of the Niigata Prefecture for the discrepancy between the description of the place and the fact that the story is set in the fictional Shibata. 

Also, the issue of dialects came up when I decided to write the scenes taking place in Yuuki’s family home. I felt bad about my previous mistakes with the dialect, so I enlisted the help of a native speaker I’m acquainted with to help me out. When I wrote about the Niigata dialect before, I was told that the “real Niigata dialect sounds different (even from the Kyoto dialect).” So I felt that if I was going to do it, I had to make sure I did it right. But dialects are really hard for outsiders, aren’t they? I like to learn a bit of the ‘local style’ when I have the chance, but even my use of the local dialect in Kumamoto (where I live now) is still a bit off. The intonation of the language is different from my hometown in the Kanto region, and even if I understand the words, I still can’t hear the nuances of the word endings. I can only kinda speak it at best.

But this time I wanted to show that Yuuki was truly an ‘Echigo person,’ so I asked my acquaintance to translate the dialogue I wrote into the Shin-** City dialect… many thanks to H-san for their cooperation (and even asking their family for help)! Also, thanks to Y-san for sending a ‘translation’ of the dialogue in the Toyama dialect for the old man who talks to Kei on the train. 

I’m grateful for all the letters I receive, even if I get them late. There have been many occasions where I’ve been helped by letters that point out mistakes I’ve made or misunderstandings I’ve had. I’m not able to reply individually to everyone to thank them, but I would like to ask you to please continue supporting me. One letter I received recently was from a reader who asked, “I would like to buy Fujimi CDs, where can I find them?” So I’ll give them a response on how to do that; I’ve actually received quite a number of inquiries about the Fujimi CDs. Here is the info for the image albums (released by Sony Records):

Cold Front Conductor

Do You Like the Concert? 

Very Private Nocturne

Manhattan Sonata

Air on the G String

Spring Storm

Wandering Violinist (coming soon)

All of the above are priced at ¥2800 and should be available at your local CD shop. If you cannot find them in store, please ask them to order it for you by providing the title and item number.

These are the Drama CDs (distributed by Magazine Magazine Co. Ltd):

Fujimi 1: Cold Front Conductor 

Fujimi 2: Air on the D-String

Fujimi 3: Wandering Violinist (on sale soon)

Fujimi OVA “Cold Front Conductor - Rain Before the Storm” (reservations now being accepted - ¥13800 including shipping and tax)

All these are 2-disc sets with a bonus ‘talk’ disc featuring the voice actors, and are priced at ¥3800 including shipping and tax. The Drama CDs and OVA are available by mail order only. If you wish to order them, please use the ‘payment slip’ that can be found in JUNE magazine, fill out the item number, name of product, your name and address, and send it along with a money transfer form from the post office.

*Reservations for videos are also accepted by sending payment.

*The post office charges a small fee for the money transfer form.

I also have received questions about my works outside of Ruby Bunko, but all I can tell you what publishers to find them through: Kadokawa Ruby Collection/Kadokawa Asuka Novels/Shogakukan Palette Bunko/Tokuma Shoten Chara Comics (original story).

(This information is current as of the time of this publication in 1997)

I bought a Tailcoat and had the name “Kei Tounoin” embroidered on it, but it had to be custom-ordered (due to the size it had to be, you know), so it was quite expensive. I’m thinking of commissioning a 1/1 figure (so, life-size) to put it on. Some people might think “how can a creator be so geeky?” but leave it to me… maybe I’ll call someone from the Fujimi universe to make a mold for me. The difficulty is finding a company that can make 1/1 scale figures. I don’t mind if there’s an individual person who could do it, but either way… I’m looking for somebody who can do that. If I can make it happen, I’ll take a commemorative photo of the “three of us” and announce it, so everyone can laugh at how ridiculous I am.

See you in the next volume,

~Akizuki Koh~

#fujimi orchestra #yaoi #BL #light novel #bl light novel #Akizuki Koh #classical music #Keiko Nishi #gay

[symphonicscans]

Fujimi Orchestra - Prelude for a Princess in C Minor (Book 10, Chapter 2)

Author: Akizuki Koh Illustrator: Keiko Nishi Content Warning: 18+

Second main story chapter of this volume! The next chapter is gaiden from Kei’s POV (yay!), but this one finishes out the storyline involving Sayoko and the Nutcracker performance.

You can read this chapter on Google or below the cut.

Lately… I’ve started to think that maybe I’m actually slutty. Whenever I’m relaxing after practice, my eyes immediately gravitate towards Kei. I find myself glancing at him, following him with my eyes… and Kei’s probably aware of it. But he pretends not to notice, keeping his usual poker face on. Of course I’m the one who asked for us to be abstinent, but… in those moments I hate Kei.

I’m Yuuki Morimura, 24 years old. I graduated from the violin department of a Japanese music college and worked as a substitute music teacher at a high school for about a year and a half, but right now I’m unemployed. Zero income whatsoever. I currently act as the concertmaster of the Fujimi Civic Symphony Orchestra (known as just ‘Fujimi’) and have also decided to take on one of Japan’s premier music competitions, which acts as a gateway to success for up and coming performers aiming to establish professional reputations. Thanks to that I had to give up my part-time job. And since I advanced through the second preliminary round, from now until the final round at the end of October I’m spending all my time on the violin.

The reason I’m able to live like this is thanks to my roommate who can support me on his own — no, it isn’t fair to introduce him like that. To all appearances, we’re ‘friends’ that live together, and in the eyes of the government I suppose we’re a ‘common-law couple’ (though I’m not sure there’s such a thing in the Six Codes). But in reality we’re a married…er… couple? My partner’s name is Kei Tounoin, and he’s also 24 years old. And a man, which of course I am as well, so that’s why I hesitate to use the term ‘couple’ because it’s… not exactly accurate. But I don’t like the term ‘gay couple’ either.

Anyway, Kei is a conductor by trade, a fine professional employed as the sub-conductor of the M-Kyo Symphony Orchestra, leading the orchestra with his baton. But he’s also the permanent conductor of our Fujimi. This summer, to accomplish certain goals we made for ourselves, we each decided to enter competitions. I made it to the finals in mine, but Kei got cut in the third round of his, right before the finals. So now he’s been helping me around the house, doing the chores that I used to mostly do, while also keeping an eye on my health, and advising me when I practice using his keen genius ear and conducting knowledge. And… he’s strictly adhered to my request to be celibate until after the final round… as Edison said, “Genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration.” I knew Kei was a very dedicated person who was strict with himself, but I had no idea how strong his determination was to see something through once he’s put his mind to it. So of course I’m the one who wimped out after only two weeks of celibacy, when it was my idea in the first place…

The night after I passed the second preliminary round of the competition, I was in such high spirits that I felt like I couldn’t stay celibate any longer, so I told Kei, ‘Let’s do it, just for tonight, since it’s a special occasion.’ I thought Kei would jump at the offer, but instead he replied, ‘We’ll talk about it.’ I had an idea of how I wanted to go about it, so I agreed, and we went home. But then we ended up not discussing it because Kei’s friend, Ikushima-san the pianist (who lives in the apartment directly below ours, which used to be my apartment), came over and said he wanted to have a party to celebrate my advancing. And of course where Ikushima-san goes, Sora-kun is sure to follow, then Sora-kun’s friend Endo-kun also came… so in no time at all we were all drinking and singing, and by the end of it I was drunk…

Thanks to that, our ‘discussion’ never happened and was left hanging in the air. And by now we’ve reached the halfway point, so it’s ‘only one more month’ that I have to endure, but… I’m not sure I can hold out. At this rate I might end up attacking Kei in his sleep. But even before that, people might start to notice that I’m acting weird because I keep fixating on it. So if we stop being abstinent I’ll be able to focus on my practice without worrying about it anymore…

The problem is, it’s hard to bring up something like this unless the time is right. On a normal day, in normal situations, it feels really awkward to initiate, so I feel like I can’t. I think it’s because it’s uncomfortable for me to do it… Kei’s always the one who initiates. Sometimes he’ll do it casually, other times he’ll say something suggestive to put me in the mood, depending on the situation… but I can’t do that. Oh, Kei, I want you… I mean, it’s not like I’m a slut, but… yeah, there must be something wrong with me… after all, Kei and I are both men, so one of us has to take the ‘woman’s role’ in sex, and that’s the part I play. But since I’m still a man, it’s driving me crazy because I want him to take me like a woman… ohh, I need to stop obsessing over this… I really feel like I’ve turned into a sex addict!

That day we had Fujimi rehearsal, one of only five more rehearsals until D-Day on September 22nd. The orchestra members were all very focused since they only had today and Thursday to practice before our Saturday rehearsal with the dancers. D-Day… when we’re going to perform the selections from The Nutcracker with the Ballet company ‘Pas de Deux’… this was important partly because its success would determine the passing or failing of Fujimi’s ‘Big Dream Project’ — but I think there was another reason besides. Led by the six soloists from Fujimi, everyone was working extra hard because Kei’s sister was a member of the ballet company performing with us.

It was at our rehearsal last Saturday. Kei usually arrives five minutes before eight and observes everyone’s individual practice, then goes to the podium at eight on the dot. But that day, he arrived even before 7:30pm, accompanied by some guests. I heard in advance they were coming just to observe the rehearsal, as a way of introducing themselves, so the only person I’d mentioned it to was ‘Nico-chan’ Ishida, the orchestra’s manager. The three guests were Itokawa-san, director of ‘Pas de Deux,’ Kaminuma-san, their manager, and Sayoko Tounoin-san, Kei’s sister and (apparently) the prima ballerina and pride of the company. However, the impact they had on the orchestra was like all 30 members of the company had come… almost entirely because of Sayoko-san. 

Kei walked through the door at 7:20pm and I hurried over to greet the guests. Being a Saturday, most of the orchestra had already arrived since they had the day off, and the ones that hadn’t heard what was going on from Nico-chan looked at me with puzzled expressions. First, Itokawa-san came in while Kei held the door, followed by Kaminuma-san. I immediately started to say, “Thank you for coming all this way to—” when I heard chatter from the orchestra. I looked over, and of course it was because Sayoko-san had entered the rehearsal room. She allowed Kei to escort her, with the air of a princess — or rather, a queen.

“Holy crap,” Igarashi-kun muttered, the cellist who had heard about Sayoko-san from me. “A female Tounoin?”

Indeed, even I said (holy crap…) to myself. Anybody would react that way upon seeing a beautiful, party-ready supermodel appear in the conference room of our poor civic center. It wasn’t like she was wearing a sparkly dress or anything, but Sayoko-san’s glamorous presence was overwhelming, like she was out of place. When Itokawa-san introduced her she simply said her name and bowed, then remained silent for the remainder of the visit, but she left a strong impression on everyone in the orchestra. 

Igarashi-kun’s sighing comment, “She’s… going to dance to our performance…?!” summed up how everyone felt afterwards. The overall sentiment of the members was feelings of, “Oh my God, I can’t let myself make any careless mistakes…” “If I don’t practice enough and mess up, I’ll never forgive myself…” “Guess we’ll have to do our best, right?”

So just by appearing in front of the orchestra, Sayoko-san had converted everyone into fans… but what I found a little odd was that the effect worked equally on both the men and the women in the group. It’s usually said that beautiful women are not well-received by other women, but when they look so much like a model it’s hard for them to come up with criticism… or maybe it’s just the natural charisma that both Tounoin siblings exude? In any case, all of Fujimi was really fired up, and my stomach hurt. Sayoko-san was doing other dances in The Nutcracker, but she also decided to make her main event a solo to me playing Air on the G String — lucky for me, that piece is the one I know best out of my repertoire. But it’s the first time I’ve ever played violin as a dancing accompaniment, and because I’m sharing the same stage with Sayoko-san, if I get distracted and mess up… my stomach hurts just thinking about it. Well, it’s no use worrying about failure before it’s even happened. I’m hoping that if I can get a feel for the dancers at our rehearsal the day after tomorrow, on Friday, I’ll be fine.

The other thing is, I’m afraid of all of Kei’s family members, since they have the ability to separate us, though we love each other and are married — even if it’s not something officially recognized. And Sayoko-san is definitely a member of the Tounoin family. I don’t know if Kei told them about me or not… though Kei’s the kind of person who can openly say ‘I’m gay’ whenever he needs to, so maybe he has told them… but if that were the case, I feel like there would have been some sort of reaction by now. After all, Kei’s father is the president of Fujimi Bank and (probably) his only son, and the Tounoin family is an old one that used to be part of the nobility. Meaning Kei is the bearer of the family lineage, so naturally him being gay would cause some problems with fulfilling his familial obligations… meaning they would surely oppose me — a man — marrying Kei. So their response would be to make me  break up with him, cut ties… oh, god. When I start thinking about this it makes me depressed… I can practically feel my face start to darken.

But of course, it’s not like I make out with Kei in public or something. So I think it’s fine for me to act the way I always do around him… but what if…?! If for some reason Sayoko-san was suspicious and asked, “What’s your relationship to my brother?” And then, “I know you’re his boyfriend, but you have to break up with him.” What a mess that would be… I wonder if I’d be able to handle that kind of situation. Considering that possibility, I want to have as little contact with Sayoko-san as possible… but since I’m accompanying her, it’s guaranteed that we’re going to be close. So I have no choice but to do my best to get her to like me, and give a good performance with great stage presence. I know I’m a nervous person who’s not good under pressure, so I can’t be blithely optimistic and act like if I just ‘try my best’ everything will be fine. Ugh… it really makes my stomach hurt… ---

But time steadily marched on, and Friday inevitably came: the first practice with Sayoko-san. In the morning I had a rehearsal at the ‘Pas de Deux’ studio in Shinjuku, then in the afternoon a lesson at Fukuyama-sensei’s place in Daikanyama for the Nippon Competition. I packed my violin case with scores for all six pieces (the five small selections for ‘Pas de Deux’ and the score for the Sibelius Concerto, the piece for the Nippon final), my stomach medicine (and of course I’d already taken some), then left the apartment. 

I noticed a house with a Japanese flag on the gate and remembered it was a national holiday… ummm…which one was it? Oh, Respect-for-the-Aged Day. Come to think of it, I wonder if Kei has any grandparents… today he was doing some special lessons for the soloists in The Nutcracker. Everyone was feeling anxious and concerned in anticipation of tomorrow’s joint rehearsal with the dancers, so he decided to give them an extra lesson. The piano teacher that rents a studio out for Kei to teach in could only give him the morning, so he left at 8am today; I’d really wanted him to come with me to ‘Pas de Deux.’

I really always mess things up when Sayoko-san’s involved: I was told it was a seven-minute walk from Shinjuku Station to the studio, but the map I was given was confusing, and I got lost and walked around for 30 minutes. I asked an old lady for directions, and she kindly gave me detailed instructions — in the complete opposite direction. That sort of thing happens with old people, so I knew she didn’t mean to misdirect me, so I couldn’t blame her. But thanks to that, I arrived just in time for when the rehearsal was supposed to start.

The sign at the studio said Itokawa Ballet Institute. ‘Pas de Deux’ is the name of the ballet troupe the students here participate in, but it’s technically a completely independent entity, which makes it a bit confusing. Apparently having it separate allows them to invite guests from other ballet schools to perform with them or something… well, it’s none of my business.  

The rehearsal space was on the second floor of a not-so-big six-story building. The size of the room was about half the size of the large conference room Fujimi uses for rehearsal, with mirrored walls on three of the sides. All five of the dancers had already arrived and were doing what looked like warm-up exercises. But… where’s Sayoko-san? Isn’t she here?

Of course Itokawa-san was there, and when he spotted me he clapped his hands and called all the dancers together, “This is Morimura-kun, the violinist who will be playing the solo pieces for us.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Morimura. I’m sorry for coming in at the last minute.” The women — who all looked around 17-25 years old — seemed a little confused, but forgave me with smiling faces.

“I’ll introduce the company to you. Let’s start with Kyoko Aizawa-kun, who will be dancing to Song of India. She placed third in last year’s creative ballet competition, and is the prima ballerina of the ‘Rose Society.’ Next to her is Ri-ho Kim-kun, the dancer for Liebesfreud, who’s an exchange student from Korea and trained with the Yanagisawa Ballet Company. Hiroko Sada-kun will be doing Meditation on Thaïs and has trained in the US; this will be her first performance since returning to Japan. For Zigeunerweisen we have both Kanna Tachibana-kun and Junko Natsuki-kun, graduate students who are studying with me.” Itokawa-san looked back at the empty corner of the room. “What about Sayoko-kun? Wasn’t she here a moment ago?”

Just then the door opened and Sayoko-san entered, looking beautiful in a black leotard.

“Come, come. I was just introducing everybody.”

“Sorry, I ran out of shoes and was waiting on someone from home to bring me more.” Sayoko-san said as she joined the rest, and the grace with which she walked caught my eye. Really… this is the person I’m going to accompany…?

“This is Sayoko Tounoin-kun, who will be dancing to Air on the G String.” Itokawa-san’s introduction was not to me, but to the other six dancers; could it be that they were meeting her for the first time? “She’s one of my graduate students, but because of an injury to her Achilles’ tendon she’s been out for a year. This will be her comeback performance.”

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Aizawa-san interrupted Itokawa-san, mentioning that Sayoko-san had won a prize in a competition. “Are you going to compete this year?”

Sayoko-san smiled and answered, “I placed second the year before last, so I think I’ll pass. But you’re going to be there, aren’t you, Kyoko-san? I’ll be in the audience to support you.”

Just now… was that a spark of anger?

“Oh, yes. I’ll be ready in just a second.” I opened my violin case in the corner of the room, and while getting ready I thought (is that how women fight…?) It seemed like Sayoko-san and Aizawa-san were rivals that had gone up against each other before in competitions, and the passive-aggressive, prickly tone of their exchange made me think they might be more frightening than they looked… as I was tuning, the woman Itokawa-san had asked about Sayoko-san brought me a music stand. 

“Thank you,” I said as I took it, but I really didn’t need one since I’d already memorized all five pieces. I decided to tell Itokawa-san, since having a stand on stage might affect how he directed the performance. “I have the music memorized, so I don’t need a stand.”

“Oh…” Itokawa-san rubbed his head. “Well, we might ask you to adjust the tempo to match the dancers.”

I see. I set my music on the stand and got out a red pen for marking. “Umm, so who’d like to go first?”

“Ahh, Kanna-kun and Junko-kun, you don’t have much time, right?”

“They’re doing Zigeunerweisen, right?” I moved the score for it to the front and glanced at Itokawa-san to show that I was ready, but he didn’t pick up on it, so I said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh, well then, first let’s play it through.”

“Is the tempo the same as what’s marked in the score?”

“Yes.”

“For the cue… umm, who’s going to signal the start?”

“Well, I can do it.”

“Thank you.”

“One, two, three…”

I thought I came in perfectly, but then it seemed I’d jumped ahead of the count-off. “Oh, sorry.” But the same thing happened the second time through, and I knew why. “I’m sorry, but at the beginning I start on the ‘and’ of the third beat.”

“Oh really,” Itokawa-san nodded, but as if he didn’t quite understand. 

“Umm, so, I start at the half of the third beat, meaning I’m on the ‘and’ of the ‘three-and’ when you count off ‘one, two, three, four-and.’ Does that make sense?” I explained while waving my bow like a conductor’s baton, and then Itokawa-san looked like he understood.

“Alright, please keep going.”

This time the dancers started to move at the same time I began playing; the choreography would be difficult to fix if we didn’t start the beginning exactly right. After playing through the piece and writing some notes on the score, we played it again, and after the second time the director commented, “It’s a bit dull.”

“Umm, the whole thing?”

“Yes, from the beginning. Just a bit.”

So on the third time, I played it while paying special attention to the tempo. Of course I had to follow the score, so I realized the key to not slowing down is to not look at the dancers. When I look at them, I start to waver in my rhythm, which then puts them out of sync.

“Ah, that was good.” So after the fourth run-through, we checked a few key points and then Ziguenerweisen was finished. “You are indeed an excellent player,” I was surprised to hear him say. 

Then we moved on to Song of India, which I originally thought would be better played in a more lyrical style. However, with the choreography it was a bit awkward, since it seemed like the dancers were involving me in it. At one point the dancer put her hand on my shoulder, but I didn’t want her to do that because it threw off my playing.

Meditation from Thaïs went off without a hitch, with no comments or changes. I wondered if it was okay that we only played through it twice… well, I guess there’s still quite a bit of rehearsal to get through. Oh, are they recording it? Well, I guess it’s okay then.

Liebesfreud gave me some trouble: no matter how many times I played it, Ri-ho-san didn’t like the tempo. She made me play the first eight bars ten times, trying to get the right tempo, and when I finally got the ‘OK’ she started… but then kept stopping and stopping. Great. It seemed like she was both a nervous person and a perfectionist, and Itokawa-san kept making apologetic faces at me. When we got to the end, I asked Itokawa-san if I could offer a suggestion and he translated it into English, “Why don’t I try following your dancing?” 

Apparently that’s what she had wanted to do in the first place, since I could understand when she responded ‘Please’ and ‘Thank You’ at least. I played it while watching her dance, and after only two times through she said, “OK, feels good!” Jeez…

And then finally the moment came: Air on the G String with Sayoko-san was the last one left. We faced each other while the other dancers watched.

“Thank you for working with me.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

I remember hearing that before her injury she’d danced in male roles, yet her body was slim and graceful. She was about the same height as me, but if she was able to do lifts with such a thin figure, then she must be pure muscle. I guess that’s the difference between men and women though, since not a bit of her looked bulky. 

I started to feel tension building, so I cleared my throat to try and get rid of it, but it didn’t go away. “How shall we begin?” I began, asking her the same question I’d asked all the others, “I won’t start until you’ve assumed your beginning pose.” I tried to be simple and direct, “So, if you’d like, you can start by going out on the stage.” With her I couldn’t afford to make any missteps.

At my request Sayoko-san shrugged slightly and went to the left side of the room. “Excuse me…” I asked Itokawa-san where I should stand.

“Oh, sorry. For now you’re supposed to be at the front of the stage, but we might change position depending on how it goes in the dress rehearsal.”

“That’s okay,” I answered, and moved to a place that approximated the front of the stage — wow, it feels pretty uncomfortable. If I were in an orchestra, where I was standing would be the opposite side from where the violins usually are, in the place where the basses would be. Well, it doesn’t matter because I’m a soloist in this case. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Sayoko-san said with a nod. “So we’ll pretend that the previous song has just ended and the stage is dark. I’ll go to the center of the stage without the lights on and take a pose.” Like Kei, her voice was full, velvety, and articulate. But where Kei was a baritone, she was an alto — I guess their vocal cords are similar. “When I’ve posed and you start playing, the spotlight on me will fade in, gradually getting brighter and brighter.” 

Yes, that makes sense so far.

“The spotlight will be full after the first four and half beats, then at the beginning of the next four and a half, the entire stage lights will fade in.” 

Easy enough. 

Okay, 54 is like a quick largo. “If you want to be precise, I can use a metronome.”

“Please do.” As expected, she was a tough customer. I’d brought a metronome just in case, so I took it out and set it to 54 beats per minute, then let it click for a second to get the tempo in my head. “Okay, you can start.”

She looked at me for a moment, then walked to the center of the ‘stage,’ assumed a pose, and… oh no, she’s balancing on one foot! I quickly put my violin up and waited for the moment when her leg stopped moving. Now I kept the tempo precise with my internal metronome, but didn’t neglect any of the other elements of the piece, taking care that the sound was deep and beautiful with a heartfelt tone. The final pianissimo fermata ended with a clean stop, in time with Sayoko-san returning to balance approximately in the same pose she had at the beginning, a slight after-ring fading out. Someone in the group sighed. I looked at Sayoko-san, and she looked back, releasing her pose.

When our eyes met, she gave me the kind of smile that princesses give their subjects and said, “Thank you very much.” The tone of her voice seemed satisfied, conveying something like (that went well, didn’t it?). Since that was the last piece in the rehearsal, I was about to leave when Sayoko-san came up to me and asked, “Would you like to get some coffee nearby?”

Ahh, that line — her brother used to say that to me a lot. I kind of miss it… “Sorry, I have to go to a lesson now.” I wondered if she wanted to give me some suggestions for her piece or something. I started to ask, but she spoke before I could.

“You’re not even going to eat lunch?” Ugh, does she want to come with me? I do need to eat, though.

“If you want to talk about the music, we can talk now.” Or… maybe that’s not it? “Um, I’d love to take you to lunch, but I’m thinking I’ll just grab something at a noodle shop.” Because I’m poor.

“Oh, what a coincidence, I also wanted soba for lunch. I know a great place around here.”

With that, my fate for the next hour was sealed. In my head I tried to recall how much I had in my wallet… well, I think I can manage to pay for two orders of soba, as long as they’re not full-course meals. 

Sayoko-san had put on a long, chunky knit sweater over her leotard, looking ready to head out. “Sensei, I’m going out for a bit…” 

Itokawa-san nodded and waved at us to go. I really hope she chooses a place that’s not too expensive… after all, my spending money comes from her brother’s meager salary. Kei puts all of the money he gets from M-Kyo in a kitchen drawer for us to use for living expenses, like groceries, household stuff, or things that I need. It seems like Kei gets money for himself somewhere else, so there’s always enough in our ‘drawer safe,’ but I still try to spend as little of it as possible. For my own money, I used up half of my savings when I went to my hometown in the summer, and put the rest aside for emergencies. So now Kei pays for everything, even Fukuyama-sensei’s lessons. Kei says I can use as much money as I want, but I don’t want to take advantage of him. I know he doesn’t mind helping Ikushima-san and others out, but I just don’t want to… 

We went down the stairs to the first floor and walked outside. “Wow, it’s still hot out,” I said as a conversation starter, but she ignored me. Bah… I wish I hadn’t agreed to eat lunch with her. Why am I so bad at saying no? Since I decided to leave the restaurant choice up to her,  I silently followed as she walked ahead. There was a small intersection with a traffic light that was red, so we stopped.

“Could you make the opening E a little stronger…”Sayoko-san suddenly started talking, “And can we slow the tempo down to 44?” 

That speed for four and half beats per bow? “What about the crescendo? If I’m trying to get to a forte, it’ll be a bit difficult.”

“No, that would kill the feeling of it being an Air. Just something to make the current mezzo-piano sound a little crisper.”

“Then what you’re talking about isn’t so much the volume as the tone. Did the articulation feel blurry to you?”

“No… I think I didn’t say it right. I’m not so good at describing musical things.”

“If you want to have a stronger crescendo at the beginning to sound more impressive, I could start at a mezzo-forte. And you’re not supposed to do it, but I could also add an accent at the beginning of the note. So it would sound something like ‘TA-raaaa, lalilalilaaaaaa.”

“Ah…” Sayoko-san was thinking. “This is the place,” she said, and I saw that we were in front of a venerable old soba restaurant, where the smell of delicious broth wafted out. I ordered first and went with zaru soba, and it seemed like she went along with what I got. I told her not to worry and order whatever she’d like.

“I always order it that way,” she replied, adding, “I’m on a diet.” 

“But you’re already so slim—uh, no, sorry.” Kawashima-san had told me once that it was off-limits to comment on a woman’s size; she’d reported her boss for sexual harassment because of that. I wonder if her solo flute lesson went well…

“That’s nice to hear coming from you. Because of my long break I got heavier, so I have to lose some weight.”

“Wha…” I was amazed at how high she could jump as it is, and that’s when she’s ‘heavy?!’ “Being a dancer must be hard.”

“Morimura-san, I’m sure you practice a lot, right?”

“Ah, heh, could you tell? I’m just a mediocre amateur, so I have to make up for my shortcomings with practice time.” Amazingly I felt like the lunch went well, even though a bit of worry was still in the back of my mind. We slurped up the soba (that I thought was delicious for how awkwardly cheap it was), and then she forced me to split the bill before leaving the restaurant.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow…we’ll go through your solo again at the dress rehearsal, right?” Kei had planned for the joint rehearsal tomorrow to be just the orchestra and group dances.

���Actually, I was wondering if you could give me some private rehearsal time, if you wouldn’t mind,” she replied.

“Oh, you mean at the beginning of the rehearsal? If I didn’t have a lesson today I wouldn’t mind doing it now, but… ah, I don’t have much time left. But the sooner the better. If we can use the room after the orchestra rehearsal, do you want to stay after and practice? Ah — but I think the orchestra will use all of the time we have.” I remembered hearing that we’d be using the ward hall, and there was a program there that evening so we had to be out by 3pm.

“Do you have time on Sunday?”

“Umm…” I did have a rehearsal with Sanjo-san. “I think I can find some time on that day. Do you want to rehearse at the same place we were at today?”

“If we go there I won’t have Morimura-san all to myself, so I’ll find another place.” All to herself…? “Can I get your number?”

“Oh, yeah. Umm, let me write it down.”

“If you tell me, I can remember it. I’m good at memorizing numbers.” Well, I guess she and her brother are very similar in other ways… I couldn’t help remembering that Kei was uncommonly good at memorizing scores —  he had whole symphonies memorized. I told her my cell number and we parted ways.

I had been so worried that something bad would happen, but Sayoko-san wasn’t as scary as I’d imagined. She seemed like a very straightforward person with a somewhat masculine personality, and I didn’t feel like she disliked me. The Air with her went well, too… so I guess I didn’t need to give myself ulcers about that any more. I guess the saying’s true, that it’s easier to just do something than worry about it.

Fukuyama-sensei’s lesson was the same abuse as usual: “That’s wrong…” “That’s not right…” “You idiot, go back to Echigo and clean out your ears before coming back…” and so on. Now that I was playing the Sibelius violin concerto, he was much stricter than he’d been in the previous two pieces. Instead of “What are you trying to do?” he’d say, “Don’t play it that way!” In the end, I had no choice but to do what sensei said. I’d been motivated to use my experience with Tzigane to find my own approach to playing the Sibelius, only to have it crushed with, “You’re ten years too young to understand this piece!” On top of that, the last thing he said to me was, “With that kind of rough sound, you don’t have a chance. Do you have a woman distracting you? Make her wait until after the finals are over! And if she won’t wait, break up with her now!!”

Then he left, letting the door slam behind him. You know… I don’t even have the energy to get upset about his accusation. As I started to put away my violin, I heard Sanjo-san make a deliberate sigh behind me.

“Ahhh… dude, are you seriously cheating?”

“What are you talking about!?” I didn’t mean to shout. 

She came over to me and sniffed,“That’s why.”

“Huh?” 

“It smells like a woman in here,” Sanjo-san said.

I guess Sayoko-san’s perfume was quite strong. “You can really smell it?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh no…”

“So? Are you gonna break up with beanpole nii-chan?”

Wow… does she think I’m that fickle? Why would she jump to that conclusion? “I just had rehearsal with Kei’s sister this morning.”

“Oh really?” She doesn’t believe me.

“I’m playing accompaniment for some ballet dancers. Our performance is on the 22nd.”

“Of this month? You mean three weeks before the competition!? Seriously?!”

“I know! But I already agreed to it. I really didn’t think I’d make it to the finals.”

“If the old man hears about this, he’ll kill you, bury you, then dig you up to kill you again.”

“Yeah, so, keep quiet about it, please.”

“Well… couldn’t you get somebody to replace you?”

“For the ballet? I was personally asked to play for Kei’s sister.”

“Who’s more important to keep happy? You know, it’s not uncommon for people to break up with their significant others to win a competition. Do you think it’s okay to be so nonchalant at this point in the game?”

“Well, it is what it is. So, um, I’ll see you Sunday at 6pm, right?”

“God, you’re so stubborn…” Sanjo-san gave a deep sigh. “Yeah, 6pm. Sorry it’s kinda late, I have to do lessons for the little ones during the day.”

“Their recital is in December, right? It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“If only I could take three months off, that would be great, wouldn’t it? But what can you do, things have to get done.”

“Your youngest student is four, right?”

“Three, and his sister also takes lessons. He’s only been playing for two months, what on earth am I supposed to give him to play?”

“Hahaha, it’s not easy being a piano teacher, is it?”

“For real…”

“And on top of that, you have to be my piano coach. But thank you for doing it for me.”

“It’s no trouble. Bye-bye.”

“Thanks for your hard work,” I said, and thought how everyone had their own problems to deal with. “Thank you very much,” I said to sensei, who had gone into a different part of the house. I left through the front door… so tired, so hungry…

---

“I was so impressed with Sayoko-san’s dancing. You can really tell you’re brother and sister. Her technical ability is obviously better than the others.” As I reported back on my rehearsal with ‘Pas de Deux,’ Kei’s lip twitched slightly.

“Do you feel like you’re both in sync with each other?”

“Yes, surprisingly so. But maybe that was just my impression.”

“If Sayoko didn’t say anything, then she must have felt the same.”

“We didn’t have the chance to do it today, but I wanted to work a little more on the beginning and the tempo, so we decided to have another rehearsal on Sunday.”

“You’re going to meet up with Sayoko?”

“Is that… a problem?” Kei let out a sigh. “Um, if it bothers you, I’ll cancel it. I think we can finish working on it during the dress rehearsal.”

“No,” Kei said, and looked away. “I got a call from Sayoko a few minutes ago. She asked me to tell you that she forgot to say where she wanted to meet.”

“Hmm. Why did she bother calling you? I gave her my cell number…. oh, but I guess I had it off so it wouldn’t ring during my lesson and forgot to turn it back on.”

“You gave her your number?”

“Yeah, she said she’d call me when she figured out where we’d meet.”

“You gave her your cell number…?”

Did I do something wrong? “Umm… I guess maybe… I shouldn’t have?”

Kei sighed a second time and went to speak, looking very uncomfortable. “To be honest, when she talked to me earlier it sounded like you were going on a date.”

“Hah?” So is that why he’s acting so glum?

“Hahaha, no way, of course it’s not a date, right? I mean, she’s beautiful and all, and after talking to her she was more attractive and friendly than I expected.”

“Beautiful… attractive?” Hey, hey, what’s with that low voice? It’s practically on the ground…

“I mean, she is your sister, you know? But our meeting on Sunday isn’t a date. I wouldn’t do that with anybody but you.”

“But you found her attractive?”

Ohhh my god, this jealous man! “I didn’t intend to make you jealous. We had lunch together because it was just after lunchtime when we finished the rehearsal.”

“I see…”

‘You can’t even trust me that much?’ I almost said, but he was already starting to say something.

“I’ll let you hear it,” He snapped. “Please leave your cell phone off until I’ve changed the number.”

“What…?”

“And the day after tomorrow I’ll be in the area, so I’ll go with you.”

“W-what are you talking about? Do you really not trust me?”

“No.”

“Then why are you talking about changing my cell number and coming with me? I mean, I don’t mind if you come on Sunday. And since you’re her brother, I’m sure Sayoko-san won’t think it’s weird if you come to see her.”

Kei sighed for a third time, in a way that said (you still don’t get it). But I honestly didn’t! “I won’t understand you unless you say what you mean. It’s true, I agreed to have a private rehearsal with Sayoko-san. But of course it’s not a date or anything like that. Even Sayoko-san wouldn’t have said it was.”

“Then I’ll play back the phone call from Sayoko.”

“Huh?” 

Kei folded back the rattan screen that hid the bed and pulled out the phone from underneath it.

“Play back… you mean you recorded it?”

“It’s one of the features on the answering machine.” Kei said and pressed a button.

There was a short pause, and then,《Sorry to bother you… this is Sayoko.》Yes, that was her voice.

《Well this is rare. What do you want?》Hey, what’s with that unfriendly tone?

《Morimura-san sure is a cutie.》

“Hmph.” 

Kei, you’re supposed to be the older one here…

《What about it?》

《We made an appointment to meet on Sunday.》

《Is that so?》

《But while we were busy talking, I forgot to tell him where we were going to meet. 1pm at Ginza Wako. Could you relay that to him, brother?》

Ah, so that’s the source of the misunderstanding.

《Is that it?》

《One more thing. Does Morimura-san use tie-tacks?》

《He doesn’t.》A click, then the dial tone. Kei stopped the tape and looked at me. “That’s it.”

He seemed expectant, like he wanted me to say something. “It’s like… you talked to her like a stranger.” Ah, I probably shouldn’t have said that.

“I wouldn’t say we’re close.” I guess that’s why he acted so untouchable. 

“Well, I guess it sounds like we’re meeting for a date, but I think there are studios to rent in Ginza. So… um…I mean…”

Kei let out a fourth sigh and angrily pressed the play button again. 《Me again… I forgot to tell you something.》

《What.》

《Morimura-san and I really got along well together.》And again, the click and dial tone.

“Ahaha…” I scratched my head awkwardly. “Well, because she’s your sister and all, I thought I should try to get along with her as well as I could.”

But what Kei responded with was, “If you were with Sayoko, you would have a normal relationship, a normal marriage, and she could give you a child.”

What kind of response was that? “Kei… you…” I couldn’t find the words to respond.

Kei said gravely, “Right now, you can still choose.”

Choose…what…?! “SERIOUSLY?!” Yelling at him wasn’t enough; I jumped on Kei, grabbing him by the chest and tightening my grip. “You really mean that?! No, you’ve got to be kidding, you’re not really asking me that!!” If I’m really pissed, even I can muster the strength to strangle somebody.

Kei, his face twisted in pain, said, “So… you’re sure?”

“Sure of what?! Sure that I married you?! That I love you?! I love you so much… but that’s not enough?!” I raged, choking with anger.

“This is your last chance to turn back,” Kei said with a sad smile on his face.

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Do you want to be my partner for the rest of your life?”

“I ALREADY SAID SO!!” In an instant my world flipped upside down, and I found myself pinned underneath Kei. “What—“ Before I could get a word out, my lips were covered and my tongue was being drawn into his mouth. “N-nnh! Nngh, hnn, nnn…” This first deep kiss after a month quickly drained me of all my strength. But this is… “W-what exactly are you doing?!”

“Sorry… I had to see your true feelings before I said anything more.”

“What the hell do you mean, ‘my true feelings?’ Do you think I stood in front of my parents’ graves and declared my love to you on a whim?!”

“No. But…” Kei’s face, shadowed by the light that was over his head, was downcast. “I thought maybe… you did it for my sake.”

“What does that mean?”

“You were terribly worried about me when I didn’t advance in the competition. So…”

“So I married you to make you feel better?! An overnight trip to the hot springs would be enough to make up for that. You just lost a competition.”

“Then, why did you marry me?”

Damn it, why is he asking me this now? “Because I wanted to. Because I love you. Because… I love you and I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You don’t regret it?”

Seriously, why is he asking me this… Kei… what the hell is going on with you? “I don’t. How could I?” I said as gently as I could.

“So if I ask you to never let me go, you really won’t, right?”

“Haven’t I been doing that this whole time?” 

He laughed, but it sounded like it was mixed with tears. “Then I’ll tell you the news from base camp.”

“Um, what?”

“Sayoko knows about you and me.”

“…huh?”

“She knows very well that you’re my lover, which is why she called me like she did.”

“Haa…”

“Firstly, that’s the kind of sister Sayoko is. Secondly, the intention behind that phone call was to declare war on me.”

“What does that mean…”

“Sayoko’s aim is to take you away from me. Her true goal, however, is not to win you but just to separate us, which would force me to return home.”

Wait a minute. Is that… ummm? Ahh, what the heck… “Haa…” I sighed, starting to understand the situation.

“A sigh is warranted… but for now, we have the upper hand.”

Ah, what other news does he have for me?

“But I don’t want you to worry about this matter.”

Don’t worry? But he just said…

“Yes, I know it’s impossible, but at least don’t get actively involved. It’s my family, so I would like you to let me deal with them.” I nodded, and I think Kei perhaps could sense my questioning. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want you to talk to me about it. You will come to realize that the Tounoin family is made up of foxes and tanukis that love to deceive each other, and an honest person like yourself will get caught up in their tricks if you involve yourself. However, you already were drawn into Sayoko’s operation, so I won’t let her get any further. All you have to do is be yourself.”

In other words, I should… just keep doing what I’m doing? Does he mean with Sayoko-san?

“It’s fine. No matter what they do, I will never let you get hurt.”

That’s a scary way to put it. I can’t believe…

“Oh, it’s not like they’d hire the Hong Kong mafia or something.”

“Obviously.”

“Well, they might consider it.”

“No way, no, that’s like something out of an old movie, haha.” He looked so serious… with all that talk of operations and not letting me get hurt, my imagination went into overdrive, despite thinking how ridiculous it sounded.

Then Kei delivered the third bit of ‘news,’  “The reason I said we have the upper hand is because Sayoko has a crush on you.”

“Eh—? You mean…”

“When she says someone’s a ‘cutie’ that’s her highest compliment, though I don’t know if she’s aware of it or not.”

“Oh really…?” Sayoko-san’s attracted to a man like me? I heard Kei sigh for a fifth time.

“That’s why I kept asking you how you felt.”

“W-what?”

“Even you don’t seem to dislike the idea of Sayoko— ow, that hurt!”

“Hmph, the pinch was meant to hurt. Let me tell you…well… I mean… um…” I ended up trailing off, but what I wanted was probably plain to see on my face, since it was burning red up to my ears.

“What? I won’t understand unless you tell me.” Kei said.

How mean… “I-I mean, you know…” I felt like I couldn’t say it.

“Ahh, was I too forward?”

“No, it’s not…” I clutched Kei.

“Yuuki, Yuuki, what’s the matter with you?” I hate the way his voice was so relaxed.

“If you don’t understand that’s fine. If I can’t articulate how I feel, that’s okay, too.” I felt ashamed that my voice was tearing up as I spoke. I’m a 24 year old man that’s acting like a child… then suddenly everything hit me: why I’m here now, our meeting, being desired, being loved… I had hated him, forgave him, loved him… I love him. 

I love this man.

I fell in love… and am still in love with him. So much so…. that’s why… “I… want…”

I miss our intimacy so much.

“…to be held by you… I love you so much… I want to feel you… inside me.”

Kei hugged me silently, holding me tight. I felt like something dissolved within me, and was replaced with something else. There was no need to put a label on it, we both felt it. I think perhaps that night was when we were truly married.

Kei woke me up with a kiss, but I burrowed into my pillow, “I’m still sleepy…”

“It’s time to get up, otherwise you’ll be late.”

“Bahhh… I don’t have a lesson today…”  I cracked my eyes open to see Kei’s smiling face looking at me.

“Are you able to get up?”

“I am, I am... We just have the rehearsal with the dancers today, right?” I sat up as I answered. Ah… the sun’s bright…

“You can get out of bed after you eat. I’ll bring it to you.”

“Okay… thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” After exchanging a kiss, Kei went into the kitchen and I groped around for my glasses.

“Your glasses are right here.”

“Ohh, thank you.” A tray over a blanket was set on my lap, with coffee, sandwiches, canned peaches and a stamina drink. “You could make it as a butler if you ever quit conducting.”

“Then please hire me if that time comes.”

“I’d be a gardener who specializes in weeding.”

“Then I guess even if we’re both poor, we can still be happy.”

“But if I could only work every other day, wouldn’t I be fired right away?”

“They say things calm down after you turn 30.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” Well, time to get up and get going. We stopped by the sixth floor to pick up Sora-kun and headed to the station.

“You finally found a harpist, but it was hard to do, right? To find someone who would ignore the pay rate…”

“I used a bit of subterfuge.”

“Subterfuge?”

“I’ll tell you if you don't get upset.”

“I don’t know why I would. What did you do?” 

Kei glanced at me and relented. “Sora-kun, can you go on ahead? We’re at Fujimi Station.”

“I’m off,” he said, his shoes tapping as he ran.

As I was watching Sora-kun leave, Kei muttered, “He’s an old ‘friend.’”

“What the heck, why would I care about that?” Ah… “When were you ‘friends?’”

“When we were in Vienna…”

“Oh, so were you both foreign exchange students?”

“Ah… he’s Hungarian.”

“So he has to come to Japan? There’s no way it’s…” I said the name of a harpist I’d seen in a magazine that was on tour. “…You can’t mean him, right?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Oh my god!”

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right… Neither of us knew the other existed at the time.”

“And besides, due to my own inadequacy I couldn’t find a suitable harpist elsewhere.”

“What ‘inadequacy?!’ You’re the only person who could get that caliber of performer to come to Japan for such a paltry amount.”

“About that… I’m sure I can find him some money somehow.”

“Wha—?”

“He’s under the assumption that it’s pro bono.”

“I get it…” This ‘old friend’ must still be into him…hmph… gah, come on…

“We have no shortage of enemies...”

Just as I thought. Shit. Damn it all… and I forgot to bring my stomach medicine.

Endre… Jen-something-shi (when I saw the name in a magazine, I just thought ‘Oh, a harpist,’ not expecting to have such a connection, so that’s all I could remember and all I could catch even when he said it). When Kei introduced me (in German) his shoulders seemed to slump. It sounded like he said something like ‘I still love you’ jokingly (though I’m only guessing based on my near-zero knowledge of German), but he wasn’t reluctant to shake my hand… he had long fingers, all of which were calloused at the tips. He was much younger than I expected for someone with an international career, with light brown hair and eyes that were the same color. He seemed to be friendly and cheerful, like a Hungarian Igarashi-kun… kind of.

I don’t blame the way English is taught in Japan for my lousy skills in the language, it’s all because of my lack of study. But I still asked him, “Do you speak English?”

He replied,“Nein” with an apologetic look.

I guess it can’t be helped. “Kei, can you be both my interpreter and his attendant?”

“I was prepared for that.”

“Well, even if you try to cheat on me, I’ve put a ring curse on you.”

“I see.”

It’s impossible for me to not be jealous of the time Endre and Kei spent together as lovers. But thankfully I wasn’t so narrow-minded to write him off, as he seemed like a nice young man. Still, I had a dark hostility towards Endre; if only I could communicate with him directly, maybe we could be friends. But for now I wasn’t so sure. I wondered about how things in Vienna had been between the harpist playing the solo in “Waltz of the Flowers” with ‘Pas de Deux’ and the tall conductor of the orchestra, who were now both in the Land of the Rising Sun…

I tried to stop thinking about it by telling myself it was like a score from the past, a score certain to have no new writing in it. Endre used to be Kei Tounoin’s lover, but it was a temporary connection, a footnote in the passage of time, just like my crush on Kawashima-san. Just a memory, like everybody has. So, I’m not going to let it bother me, which means Kei… doesn’t need to act so deliberately cold to him. It’s not nice to do that after he asked him to come all the way here.

“Ah, Endre? Um…” I have no idea how to speak German! “May I help you? You don’t understand me, do you? Ehh… I’m failing. Ah? Do you need to move the harp over there? Err… move this to that? Ah, OK, OK! Just a moment, I’ll get a helper… Igarashi-kun! Can you come here for a minute and give me a hand? Umm… Matsui-kun! Saita-kun, you too!”

The joint Nutcracker rehearsal that started at 10am was less difficult than I expected, and we finished at 2:30pm after taking a proper lunch break. The soloists, whom Kei had been giving one-on-one lessons to, performed great solos that I felt demonstrated the improvement in their skills. Sayoko-san and the two members of the Zigeunerweisen duet were there, and all three seemed to be in more of a teaching role, taking care of the younger students who ranged from five or six to around high-school age. But Sayoko-san, whose character was so admired by the adults, seemed to want nothing to do with the children… so it made me smile to see them all over her.

Come to think of it, Sora-kun also seems to be quite attached to Kei, in a different way than he’s attached to me. I wonder if it’s like a father figure, who can be scary, but is still respected and seen as a playmate. Even Endo-kun doesn’t particularly hate Kei, though he was hit by him several times… he just avoids him. In any case, I thought it was an interesting commonality between the two siblings, that they are unexpectedly liked by children.

In any case, seeing Sayoko-san taking care of the little ones like that makes me think she’s not the schemer that Kei claimed she was. And that phone call… I think it’s sad for a brother and sister to only communicate in such a formal and cold way. Of course I know it’s not my business, but if there’s something I could do… I know Kei told me not to get involved with his family directly, but he told me I could talk to him about it… I think maybe Kei’s the one who’s putting up a wall in their relationship, pushing Sayoko-san away, and that’s the source of their problems. If that’s the case, then if only Kei could soften his heart, the siblings would get along better… which would be a definite improvement. It’s bad for people who share blood to turn their backs on each other like that. 

Yes, I’m going to try and turn Kei’s feelings in that direction, though I’ll need to be discreet and it’ll take time. I’ll aim to help them get along someday; after all, I was really relieved when I made up with my sister Chieko-san. I don’t think it’s because Kei and Sayoko-san actually dislike each other.

---

That Sunday, Kei accompanied me to the rendezvous at Ginza Wako with an air that it was only natural for him to do so. Sayoko-san seemed to be expecting it, and didn’t look surprised.

“How nice, now I can enjoy some leisurely conversation with my brother as well.” I could tell that there was no lie behind Sayoko-san’s smile when she said it; I guess I can’t see her as a bad person at all. “Oh, Abe-sensei?” I turned around at the sound of her voice to find her standing right behind me, and my shoulder bumped into hers.

“Ah, sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

The man Sayoko-san had addressed had an imposing physique, and looked to be about 30 years old, with fair skin and a plump face like a May Festival doll. 

“Let me introduce you. This is my brother.”

“Ahh, the conductor,” Abe-shi nodded blithely and turned to Kei, introducing himself politely, “Nice to meet you. My name is Abe.”

“Nice to meet you.” Kei responded curtly.

“And this is his friend, Morimura-san.”

“Oh, hello. I’m Morimura.” 

His response to me was much more brief than the one he gave Kei, “A pleasure.” He nodded and eyed my violin case, “Sayoko-san, is he also…?”

Sayoko-san, who was dressed in a chic one-piece dress today, smiled and said to me, “Abe-san is a violinist as well. He’s a lecturer at Kunitachi University.”

“Ah, you’re too kind.”

Even though it seems like we’re roughly the same, in the classical music world there’s a huge difference between a no-name violinist and a university professor.

“Sorry, since I only went to a regional school I didn’t recognize you.” I apologized for not knowing about him, as he surely did recitals and other performances in the area.

“By the way Abe-sensei, do you know any of the judges in the Nippon Music Competition?” Sayoko-san asked, and it apparently made him very nervous.

“What’s the Nippon Competition?” he played dumb.

“Morimura-san here is participating in the finals this year.”

What? How did she know that?

“Really?” Abe-shi looked at me; maybe I was imagining things, but it seemed like he scowled for a moment.

“My brother and I are rooting for you. Right, brother? He’s your best friend, so naturally you want him to win, don’t you? So I was wondering if maybe you could give us a little inside information, Abe-sensei.”

Such a shocking question! Wait a minute—! “N-no, um, Sayoko-san, you can’t ask Abe-sensei something like that.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t?”

“It’s annoying.” Kei said.

“Oh really…” It seems the princess is just another young lady in Kei’s presence. “Oh my, it seems it’s time, Morimura-san.”

“Huh?”

“Look, it’s 1:30pm. The studio should be free now.”

Ah, it’s a rental studio.

“It was busy, so I could only get an hour. Let’s hurry.”

“Right. Um, if you’ll excuse me,” I said to Abe-shi.

He looked at Sayoko-san, “Do you have a lesson or something?”

“Yes, Morimura-san is going to play a solo for my next dance performance. Today is a special lesson for that.”

“May I observe?” Abe-shi said. “It’s a rare opportunity to see the prima ballerina of ‘Pas de Deux’ practice.” ---

The entire building had been newly constructed, and was about the same size as the ‘Pas de Deux’ rehearsal studio. With this location, space, and facilities, I bet the rental fee would make my eyes bleed. When we were waiting for Sayoko-san to change, Kei shot me a quick glance… Huh? What? Is there something he wants to tell me without Abe-shi hearing?

“Wow, this place doubles as a recording studio.”

“They have some pretty nice equipment here…” Taking that as my cue, I moved to the corner of the room where Kei was. Pretending to look at the PA equipment, he whispered, “Abe-shi is interested in Sayoko.”

“Haa, oh really?”

“It seems Sayoko is trying to use his feelings to pit him against you.”

“What’s in it for her?”

“If you make enemies out of the judges of the Nippon Competition, what do you think will happen?”

“No way—!” I exclaimed, too loudly. I quickly searched for a plausible excuse. Um… maybe… “I’ve been dreaming of making a recording, but an independently produced CD is useless except to give out to relatives…”

Kei chuckled (nice save). “But it would be good, right? Your first solo album could have a limited pressing of 100 copies. Eventually it would get a premiere.”

“Come on, that’s Yoshiko-san’s joke.”

Just then, Sayoko-san came back in and I remembered what I was there for. I quickly started to get ready, but when I finished tuning Sayoko-san hadn’t even put her toe shoes on.

“Sorry, Morimura-san. You’ll have to wait a little bit longer.”

“Sure.”

I was about to start doing some left hand warmups when Abe-shi came up and asked, “What’s your instrument?” His tone was completely condescending, and a hint of hostility behind it...

“A modern one,” I replied. “I’m borrowing it from Sumie Tokita-san through my connection with Tounoin-san.” I didn’t say that I went with this one because it sounded better than the Strad I could have chosen; if Abe-shi’s preferred instrument was a Strad, I would have been picking a fight.

“Ahh, it’s Tokita-san’s? May I take a look at it?”

“Ah, sure.” I knew he wouldn’t accidentally break it. I handed it to him with the bow.

“Is this an ‘Oda’ bow?”

As expected, he was quick to notice, “It’s by Oda Gendo-san. I still have yet to pay him for it.” Because unlike him, I’m a poor man. Abe-shi took the bow and deliberately put his hand on the hair. Damn, is he crazy? There’s no way he’d intentionally touch the hair, right? He’s quite the performer, isn’t he… 

“What solo are you dancing to?” Abe-shi asked Sayoko-san. She had just finished putting on her shoes and was doing some warmups.

“Bach’s Air,” she replied.

“Wilhelm’s Air on the G String arranged from BWV 1068, No. 3, right?” He said, showing off his knowledge. Then he picked up the violin and went to play (I bet he’s gonna play it…) and — of course he did.

But by the tenth measure or so he was stopped by Sayoko-san, “I’m sorry sensei, but we need to start.” Um, I wonder if I should I add to what she said… never mind, it’s fine. Abe-shi handed the instrument back to me. 

“How long can we be here?” I asked to make sure of how much time we had. “Well then, we better get to it.” I readied my violin. “Do you want to begin it mezzo-forte at 44bpm?”

“Go ahead.”

Okay, well, this was something that really should be done at the dress rehearsal on the main stage, but we’re already here. I played it until the end. “So then, would you like there to be more accent at the beginning?”

“Please.”

“Well, I think we’ll have to adjust the level of the accent in the dress rehearsal.” 

Regardless of her attempts to involve Abe-shi, Sayoko-san was single-minded and serious when it came to her dancing: what kind of performance would be best to accentuate her dance… how to start the piece… the tempo… the relationship between the choreography and the performance… 

“Sorry, can we go through it again?”… “Brother, which of the two did you think worked better?”…“Abe-sensei, do you share his opinion? Yes… Morimura-san, one more time, please.” 

The older brother is a musician and the younger sister is a ballet dancer: although specialized in different genres, both were blessed with natural talent and the artistic temperament to pursue it… they were like twins. I wondered if maybe the fact that they were so alike had created a heterosexual repulsion in Kei…

I stopped my bow with a start at the sound of a jingling bell. I thought it was an emergency alarm, but then I heard, “Oh, is the time up already?” I was surprised to hear that. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem. Then, I guess we’ll see you at the dress rehearsal.”

Sayoko-san left to change her clothes, and we went into the hallway where the waiting area was. I noticed Abe-shi’s pensive expression as he walked out the door, and recalled what Kei said about ‘Sayoko-san’s operation.’ Let’s see… I wanted to make sure Abe-shi understood that there’s absolutely nothing between me and Sayoko-san, but even if I told him directly it wouldn’t do any good without some additional context. Well then…

“Yuuki?” I heard my name.

“Hmm?” I turned around.

“What are you doing after this?”

“Ummm, well, my lesson with Sanjo-san starts at six, so… I still have quite a bit of time left.”

“Kaoruko-san’s place is in Suginami, right? That’s about an hour from here.”

“Yes, around that.” Then an idea hit me, that would help with what I’d been thinking about just now. I put it into action, “Kei, you’re free today, right?” I felt a little embarrassed calling him ‘Kei’ in public, but he instantly understood my strategy.

“Yes.” He said with a gentle smile.

“Why don’t we see a movie? It’s been a long time since we did that. I have to catch the train at 5pm though, so we might have to leave before it’s over.”

“That sounds good. That’s what Sundays are for.”

“She’s not a child, she can get herself home.”

“But I also feel bad for her, you know? It seemed like she hadn’t seen you in a while and was excited to be with you.”

“She’s 20 years old, I think it’s a bit much to expect her to follow her older brother around.” Kei then turned to Abe-shi with a look that said (speaking of which…) and asked, “Do you have anything after this?”

“No, not really.”

“Then if you don’t mind, could I ask you to escort my sister? We’ll be on our way now.”

“Ha ha, don’t worry, I won’t go anywhere.”

“Well then, thank you. Let’s go, Yuuki.”

“Yeah. If you’ll excuse me...” If Abe-shi was a homophobe, I might have just made a big mistake. But I had to choose which was worse, that or being perceived as a rival in a love triangle with Sayoko-san… I’d say getting myself determined as ‘not an enemy’ was the right call. As we walked away from Abe-shi, I tried to be close to Kei without seeming too deliberate… It was quite a pleasant feeling, walking together like this, as if we were about to hold hands — something I’d never have done in a normal situation. It made me feel… really… happy. Since it didn’t matter how Abe-shi perceived us, why not indulge ourselves a little more? 

Kei stopped in front of the elevator, and I threaded my arm through the one he had in his pocket. He looked down at our entwined arms with a questioning look.

“Just for right now, is that okay?” Kei pressed the elevator button with his free hand.

 “I’d be happy for you to do it all the time.”

“Yeah...” I wish I could always walk, proudly arm in arm with him, whenever I wanted… but that’s still a ways off yet. That’s why I’m glad I had the chance to do it now, and Kei let me do as I wished, enjoying the fleeting feeling of freedom to the fullest. Those few seconds in the elevator, with my arm linked through Kei’s and my head on his shoulder… I was so happy. ---

And then it was D-Day for the ‘Pas de Deux’ performance: Friday, September 22nd. The weather was still unstable due to the aftermath of a typhoon that had come through the day before, but the forecast was for clear skies, with the wind and rain subsiding by the end of the day. With a roll call list in hand, I greeted the orchestra members at the entrance of Shinjuku Bunka Hall as they arrived at 5pm, who’d come after rearranging their work and family commitments.

“Ichiyama-san, OK,” I marked each one off with a red check mark. “The green room is on the first floor in the basement, backstage. Yes, the same one we used in the dress rehearsal. Suzuki-san? Um, please hold on a second… Ishida-san isn’t here yet. No… Kimura-san isn’t here either. Wait — oh, Kimura-san is here. Ah, yes, go ahead, thank you for being here.”

Although it was less work than Fujimi’s regular performances, where I had to run around as general staff, I was still responsible for the group today, and in some ways it was more exhausting than my job as concertmaster. I showed Endre to the dressing room where Kei was, after confirming that everyone was present except the few inevitable absentees. 

“The orchestra is assembled.” I reported to Kei. 

“You haven’t changed yet?”

“Oh, um… yeah, I need to do that. I need to grab some coffee first.”

“Please change your clothes here. The dressing room is crowded.”

“Well, I’ll go grab my stuff then.” I put on my first-rate tailcoat in a rush and went backstage with my tuned violin in hand. “We have about ten minutes, so if everybody could make their way to the pit now… please go to the orchestra pit.” I called out to the members who were milling around backstage, and went down the hall under the stage. Um, I think I double checked the amount of music stands and chairs earlier…

“Kaizuka-san, how are your reeds? Everything good to go?”

“Ahh, yeah, for sure. But the pit is so small. If we were playing a full ballet, I think the humidity would start to build up.” While talking to him, I kept an eye on the people filing in to take their seats, taking a mental headcount. 

“Kawashima-san, where is Odagawa-san?”

“I think he’s already here.”

“Yonezawa-san, are you doing okay?”

The former self-defense force member, who’d been playing something on the synthesizer with it turned off, answered, “Yes, sir!” He looked up and tapped his head. “I’ll get through it one way or another.”

“Thank you,” I smiled at him, full of confidence. I heard a small beeping sound.

“Concertmaster, the intercom.”

“Oh, yes, yes.” The call was to delay the beginning of the show a bit. “The show is going to start ten minutes late. Ten minutes!”

Kei and Endre hadn’t arrived yet; as the guest artist, Endre would come in right before the curtain opened, and then Kei, as the conductor, would follow. Our Nutcracker consisted of only four excerpts, but since the original versions of everything but ‘Waltz of the Flowers’ were too short, we added repeats for the other dances. Including the changes between dancers, the first half of the concert should be a little over 40 minutes. 

A light chime sounded, indicating it was five minutes before the show would begin. An announcement was made, and two minutes before the start (according to my watch), Endre appeared at the entrance of the pit. I stood on the conductor’s podium, as it was the only place where the audience could see me. Even doing that it seemed like they didn’t notice, so the orchestra gave a flurry of applause to help draw attention.

Endre bowed twice before walking to his seat, giving me a pat on the shoulder as he passed by me; really, he’s the one doing us a favor. Then Kei appeared. He approached the podium, his entire chest clearing the top of the pit. He bowed to the audience, then turned towards us — but he didn’t raise his baton yet. The march from The Nutcracker began to play from the speakers; argh, I’d really wanted us to play this one on our own but… even if we had two more weeks it still wouldn’t have been enough time. The march, which acted as the opening prelude, faded out about a third of the way through, and then it was time for the final exam.

“Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.” Kei’s quiet voice snapped everybody’s attention to his baton. After a four-bar prelude from the strings, Yonezawa-san — who was playing the celeste on a keyboard — took the solo. Yeah, OK, it sounds good! On the stage that couldn’t be seen from where we were, the children from the ballet troupe should be performing an adorable dance right now. Oh— I made a mistake. It’s okay, it’s okay, don’t panic. It’s all right. Yeah, yeah… the audience today won’t notice a mistake or two.

Arabian Dance reflected the character of Kaizuka-san (the oboe soloist) and Wada-san (the clarinet soloist), and gave the feeling of the Arabian Nights, but more of the lamp-and-genie kind than a harem atmosphere, with bewitching beauties whispering in the background. The dancers for this one were middle and high school students.

The solos in the Dance of the Reed Flutes were light and gorgeous, and went off wonderfully. All three soloists had done a great job on their parts: bravo to Kawashima-san and Odagawa-san on flute, and Segawa-san on piccolo!

Then came the Waltz of the Flowers. Endre’s harp playing, which accompanied the emergence of the flower fairies, was introduced by a two-measure fanfare from the woodwinds that was so incredibly gorgeous that I felt a shiver go down my spine. Ah… the harp is such a brilliant instrument. In Japan, most harpists are women, but — much like the piano —  I think the harp was originally a man’s instrument. After all, they have to pluck those thick strings for the low notes with only the strength of their fingers, right? Of course an instrument can’t be played only by force, but I feel sorry for women with their thin fingers. Also, the instrument itself is quite heavy… though a woman in a dress looks more romantic while playing.

Kei’s precise conducting made the three repeats in the middle of the piece happen without issue, and then everyone precisely executed the eighth note at the end in unison while Kei held the lingering fermata silently. The curtains closed with a whoosh amid the applause. Good job everyone — ah, are they gonna open it again? Oh, it’s so all the dancers can take a bow, isn’t it? Yes, there’s another round of applause. Okay! First part, done. A total success.

“Thank you for your hard work.”

“Hey, we did it, we did it!”

“I was so nervous!”

“Really? But it went well, didn’t it?”

“Solos are scary. But it also kinda felt good.”

“Hahaha, you could get addicted to it.”

“I might be!”

As  the members chattered away while leaving the pit, I saw Yonezawa-san walk by, rubbing his head self-consciously.

Kei stopped him, “I’m glad it went well.”

“Still, I ended up making a mistake after all. Sorry.”

“Come now. That you were able to play it so well is very admirable.”

“Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.”

I was pleasantly listening to their exchange when a tap on the shoulder made me turn around. It was Endre. He said something in German and held out his hand… huh? A handshake?

“He said, ‘I’ll be listening in the audience, have a good performance.’” Kei translated for me.

“Oh, thank you, danke schön. Your harp playing was wonderful as well.” That’s right, the second half is all my solo.

“Morimura-chan, you should go to the stage soon. It’s eight minutes til.”

“Oh, yes. Well, I’ll see you later.”

“Ganbatte, concertmaster.”

“Oh, wait, your tie is crooked.”

“Whoa, thanks for catching that.” As Haruyama-san fixed it, I exchanged glances with Kei, received an encouraging look, then left the pit. This was it, the moment of truth. A chime announced the end of the 20-minute break. I heard the buzz of the audience — which consisted of mostly children — and I had a different feeling than the last time I was about to play a solo on stage. I wasn’t overcome with the nausea-inducing nervousness that usually plagued me; instead I felt rather relaxed, which was probably thanks to the atmosphere of the audience.

“Please stand by.” 

I nodded to the stage manager and stepped out onto the stage while the curtains were still closed. I walked to the playing position and checked the tuning, then slightly tightened my bow — OK, it’s fine.

The first piece was Meditation from Thaïs. Sada-san, dressed in a romantic white tutu that draped to her ankles, quietly took her place. An announcement signaled to the audience that it was the beginning of the second half, and the murmuring that filtered through the curtain quickly quieted down. The stage manager at the other side gave the cue. I put my bow on the string and began to play as the curtains slid open. Sada-san — portraying Thaïs — began to dance, and the curtain passed by to reveal us to the audience. Just like with the first half of the concert, the audience applauded after each song, probably because the performers changed out. Sada-san responded to the audience with a big smile and waved her hand to acknowledge me — oh, me too? Thanks… I turned to the audience, bowed, then stood and readied myself for the next piece. My bow had loosened a bit, so I tightened it a little more.

Ri-ho Kim-san’s Liebesfreud was the picture of a young woman in love, it was hard to believe she was the oldest of the six soloists. Her subtle fermatas (position holds) were different than in the rehearsal or dress, but since we’d discussed how to match the music to the dance, I was able to get through it without going into a panic. After her performance there was another round of applause and bowing. Oh… that’s enough for me, it’s kind of annoying for me to bow after every song…

In the third piece, Song of India, I almost messed up a few times. Aizawa-san was careful not to actually touch me, but the way she danced around me was much closer than in rehearsal… she was nearly touching. I was worried that her hands or body might bump into me at any moment and knock my bow off; I’d never been so nervous. And then when Aizawa-san received her applause, she accompanied it by kissing me! I was so shocked that I froze, which got a laugh from the audience… please don’t do this to me…

Next was Ziguernerweisen. While playing it, I discovered something about the differences in the technical ability of ballerinas. Even though the two dancers weren’t fat or anything, I noticed that their landings were quite hard and loud. My observation was confirmed in the last piece, Sayoko-san’s Air. She made each landing in her pointe shoes with barely a sound, which was probably due to her great training. The natural balance of her feet, paired with the suppleness and strength of her muscles, transformed any instability into stability. I’m sure it’s not an ability that’s easily developed. 

When the Air ended and the lights came back up on stage — since they’d faded into darkness after the dance was over — the audience erupted into raucous applause. She definitely deserved it. I applauded her as well;  I’d been clapping for all the previous dancers as a social gesture, but for her it was genuine.

“Bravo!”

I think the voice that said that was someone from Fujimi.

“Bravooo, whoop-whoop-whoop!”

Ugh, that’s definitely Igarashi…

After Sayoko-san acknowledged the audience she withdrew, and then all dancers for the second half came out for the curtain call. They even pulled me in, and I bowed, stepped back, then stepped forward and bowed again… I thought that was the end, but then came the presentation of flowers to certain people: Sayoko-san and the other dancers, myself, Kei (representing the orchestra) and Endre (representing the soloists). I thought that was the end, but the director Itokawa-san was also brought out and presented flowers as well.

And with that, the ‘Pas de Deux’ performance was officially over. I showed my thanks that I played my part without any major mishaps by kissing the silver ring on my right hand; of course, I was careful that no one else saw it, but Kei seemed to notice. The after party was a buffet in a nearby hotel’s banquet hall. It was noisy and lively with the children that had performed, so we moved to the reception hall Nico-chan had prepared for the Fujimi members. Whew, finally we could relax.

“Thank you for your hard work,” I said, refilling our beers. 

“To you as well,” Kei replied, and offered a glass to Endre, who was sitting next to me.

“Haa, I’m finally done.”

“Now you can focus on the Sibelius.”

“Yeah. From tomorrow it’s all about the Sibelius.”

“Sayoko put you through a lot with her selfishness.”

“What are you talking about? It was a great experience. Speaking of, she’s an amazing dancer. Is she a professional already? Isn’t that what she’s aiming for?”

“No idea.”

“You mean, you don’t talk with her about those kinds of things?”

“I don’t see her that often.”

“If I had a beautiful sister like that, I’d treat her like a precious cat.”

“She’s not a cat… more like a leopard.”

“Then what are you, a lion? No, you’re more like a doberman.” I realized I was having a lively conversation next to the gaijin who had nobody to talk to, so I turned to involve Endre. But no, Endre was talking to Iida-san… who’d come prepared with a German dictionary in hand. I was grateful to the cellist’s friendliness, curiosity — and willingness to take on a challenge. 

As I was looking at the three of them, thinking how happy I was that they were here, I heard Kei say, “I have a message for you from Sayoko.”

“Hmm?”

“She said she’s ‘looking forward to you winning the Nippon Competition.’”

“Ahaha, there’s no way. But thanks to her all the same. Oh… or could it be that…” I wondered if I should take the encouragement at face value, or if she said it to put pressure on me… or maybe she meant the opposite, that I had no chance of winning… no, I don’t think Sayoko-san is that kind of person. I really do believe that. “I don’t think I’ll win, but I’ll do my best. Tell her thank you.”

Kei scrutinized me for a moment, then sighed and muttered, “I’m not sure if she said it in earnest, but I can relay the message to her.”

I told him he didn’t have to.

#fujimi orchestra #yaoi #BL #light novel #bl light novel #Akizuki Koh #classical music #Keiko Nishi #gay

[symphonicscans]

Zoku Violinist of Hameln, chapter 4

Finally, we’ve reached the last chapter of this volume! It’s about as long as two chapters T_T... also, the omake from the end of the volume will be released later, a compromise so that the actual chapter could get released sooner.  But yes, finally we get a look at Balalaika in this chapter!! Download Here Read on MangaDex Here

#violinist of hameln #zoku violinist of hameln #voh #michiake watanabe #violin #balalaika #violinist of hameln continued

[symphonicscans]

Negai Kanae Tamae (Grant My Wish) - Volume 1, Chapter 2

Grant My Wish

Nishida Higashi

BL/2005

Guess I shouldn’t post priorities of releases... we’re going in reverse order ^_^* In any event, you can download this chapter here or find it on MD.

#BL #grant my wish #nishida higashi #yakuza #music #piano #scanlation #yaoi #Negai Kanae Tamae #rerelease

[symphonicscans]

Fujimi Orchestra - Allegro Agitato (Book 10, Chapter 1)

Author: Akizuki Koh Illustrator: Keiko Nishi Content Warning: 18+ Sorry for the delays, folks… originally the idea was for VoH to come out first, but there have been delays behind the scenes, so Fujimi Orchestra ended up getting finished first >_<.  This is the first chapter in book 10, where Yuuki does his competition!  As usual, you can read on Google with footnotes or under the cut.

Allegro Agitato

Last year on the 13th of August, I had a hard time after coming back from the Bon Festival to find my apartment had burned down, walking around in the rain until midnight and spending the night in the police station.

This year on the 13th of August, I had a hard time in bed until midnight… my body was exhausted the same as last year, but my heart was filled with a warm glow, and I felt a little dizzy with happiness.

My name is Yuuki Morimura. I’m a 24-year-old unemployed violinist, who’s trying to break out of my current position as ‘amateur violinist’ by taking on the Nippon Music Competition, spending my days enduring a rehash of the lessons from my former college teacher, Fukuyama-sensei. So even though it’s great to be loved so fervently, I’m exhausted… and when I think about my schedule tomorrow I feel like I already need to recover.

“Was I a little too enthusiastic for the first night of our honeymoon?” The person who happily whispered this to me was Kei Tounoin. He’s also 24 years old as of last week, and he’s a conductor. Not a tour conductor, an orchestra conductor, a young musical genius. It’s been nine months since he and I started living together as lovers, and if I count the number of times I ‘slept over’ it would be even longer.

So yesterday… we got married in front of my parents’ grave in my hometown, when we went together to visit them. It was something only the two of us knew, but for us it was a significant milestone, a very important step in our relationship. Kei is absolutely over the moon, and of course I’m happy too, but if Kei’s feelings are 100%, mine are around 90%. Not because of the looming lessons, but because of the fact that we’re two men who love each other. I’ve resolved to not feel guilty about it anymore, but I have to admit that it still weighs on my mind a little. But of course, despite that I decided to get married all the same. Come on, Yuuki Morimura, you’ve made up your mind to be true to your feelings and only think of the future, right? This is the time to talk about it. Don’t worry, Kei will understand. I love the feeling of his skin, slick with cool sweat, my dearest — oh, since we’re married now, it’s not right to call him my ‘boyfriend’ anymore, is it? So what should I call him…?

In any case, I began, “Hey, Kei…”

“Yes?”

“I’d like your help with something.”

“Anything.”

“I’m sure you’ll regret agreeing to it, but it’s something I really need you to do. I’m just worried you’ll misunderstand or misinterpret what I say, so I need you to promise that you’ll listen to me calmly until I’ve finished telling you.”

“Yes, I promise.”

“Can you say that so lightly? You should think about it before responding.”

“I’ll promise to do whatever you ask, unconditionally, and I’ll keep my word. After all, that’s what you asked of me.”

Jeez… he says that with such a lovey-dovey look on his face. You’ll probably be the one crying after you find out what I want, but who knows. “OK, I’ll tell you, but… um…“

“Yes.”

“I mean—”

“Yeah.”

“Well, the short version is—”

“Go ahead.”

“…Can you please not interrupt me every time I go to say something?”

“Yes. I’ll shut up now and listen.”

Ugh, it’s getting harder and harder for me to keep my nerve to say it. But I’ve already thought it over and decided to go through with it, so I should, “First of all, I don’t hate you in any way, and I don’t mind you making love to me so…uh…well… how should I put it…it’s not like I don’t like it, but… y-you know what I mean?!”

(Yes) Kei smiled indulgently.

Yeah, that’s right. From the moment we got back from our overnight trip to Niigata, I was practically burning with desire until just now… I don’t know how many times I came… after we were married yesterday, we couldn’t even kiss (we were staying at my parents’ house after all, and I didn’t have the courage to come out to my sisters), so we spent the rest of the night with our feelings on overdrive inside. While we rode the Shinkansen and the JR train home, all Kei and I could think about was being alone with each other. As soon as I saw the entrance to the apartment building, I couldn’t hold back any more and pulled Kei into the elevator — which we normally don’t use. The kiss we exchanged on the short way up to the fifth floor was so exhilarating that it melted my legs, so Kei happily carried me up to the seventh floor where our apartment was — oh no, I can feel the afterglow rising again. I cleared my throat and continued.

“So this has absolutely nothing to do with how I feel about you, but I’ve decided it’s the best thing to do…”

Kei laughed — not out loud, but his shoulders shook a little. Does he think I’m not serious about this? Maybe, but I won’t take ‘NO’ for an answer after he hears what I have to say, he’s already agreed. Don’t be upset…

“Finish what you want to say.”

Oh man, my heart’s racing. Ugh, my stomach is churning. But I made up my mind. “I want to win the competition. So… in other words… that’s why... I mean, um… it’s just, uh…”

“I failed, but that doesn’t have anything to do with your competition. Right?”

“Yeah… that’s what I decided. I think you’re a genius regardless of what happened in your competition, but I think that aiming to have the best possible result in mine is absolutely necessary so we don’t lose any more ground.”

“Naturally. If I’ve failed and then you do too, everyone in Fujimi will be disappointed.”

“Ahaha, well about that… I don’t care what the result is, I just want to be able to say I did my best with pride, no matter what happens, otherwise I won’t be able to face them.” After saying that (I realized I might have said something that made him feel bad!) I rushed to add, “If you put in the effort and play the music the way you feel it should be, like you did, then everyone at Fujimi will support you. But I don’t want to fail because I didn’t do everything I possibly could.”

Yes, now I’ve set this up properly…

“So, if there’s something I can do to make that happen, I don’t want to hold back. So…”

Here we go.

“So I…”

Just say it, clear and direct!

“I-I’ve decided to be abstinent.”

There, I said it.

“Abstinent…?”

See, Kei? I knew it. You were expecting something totally different and said ‘anything’s OK’ so easily, but… now that I’ve asked you, you have to cooperate.

“Yeah. From today — or rather, from now. No sex until the competition is over. Will you support me?” I said it as if I believed he would actually honor my request, but inwardly I was thinking (this is the moment of truth). Kei is a very seductive man… no matter how tired I am, or if I don’t feel in the mood, he never lets me off with an ‘Okay, then’ except once every three times. So I had to arm myself with all the excuses for why I needed to be abstinent, and also anticipate other things Kei might say to counter me, which is why I went about it the way I did.

“Yes.” Kei nodded casually.

I felt like I was hearing things, “Is that… okay with you?”

“If that’s what you’ve decided, then I’ll support you.”

“Ummm, just so we’re clear, I’m not just talking about after the first round next week.”

“It’s until after the entire competition, right?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“You’ll definitely make it to the finals, so that means it’ll be two months, until October 12th.”

“I have no idea how far I’ll get, but I guess there’s always the possibility…”

“You’ll get to the finals, I’m sure of it. And I’ll be happy to support you,” he said with a gentle smile that felt genuine, despite his tone being really intimidating. Kei’s expression changed to concern, “Does this ‘abstinence’ include our greeting kisses in the morning and evening? No… I wouldn’t be surprised if your restrictions include all skinship and things like that.” His face was dead serious as he spoke; I wonder if he realizes what a dry comic he is sometimes.

“We’ll leave the kissing out, but skinship is OK as long as we don’t go past second base. But I might ask you to rub my shoulders or something. Ah… is that too much?”

“No, you can ask me for that anytime. A back rub, a foot rub, anything.”

“For real?”

“That will be the only way I can touch you, my dear whom I won’t be able to hold for two months. Shall we make that an evening ritual, then? Yeah, that would be nice. Otherwise you’ll be too shy to ask for it.”

“But! Okay… we’ll do that together. Let’s be reciprocal with it, I’m sure you get stiff shoulders too.”

“As long as you don’t give me a sexual massage, there’s no harm in it. Right?”

“Ahahaha, yeah, for sure.”

“So what shall we do about the bed? Can we continue to sleep together as before, or do you want to split it?”

“Yeah, we can share… as long as you don’t mind.” I like to sleep with the warmth of his body next to me. “But maybe that’s… too much. It probably is.”

“What? I only have to be patient for two months, and I’ll be sharing the burden with you. I think that some nights spent agonizing over each other could be fun and exciting.”

“Kei…”

“It seems the muse, patron goddess of the arts, doesn't like to be ignored because she’s a woman. And she won’t accept our request for her blessing unless accompanied by a tribute, to curry her favor. If we sacrifice our act of newlywed love, surely she will give us a very powerful blessing. So, don’t worry about me, I don’t subsist solely on sexual desire.”

“O-of course not! I didn’t think that! It’s just…”

“Are you worried about me having an affair?”

“Huh?” Y-yeah… that’s right! That could happen… “N-no, I’m n-not worried about that at all. Y-you’d never do such a thing.”

“Right.”

I want to believe that. No, I do, I trust him, “Of course.”

Kei smiled, melting away my absurd fears. “I could never have an affair with anybody but you.”

“Okay…”

“By the way, earlier when you said ‘from now on…’” Kei began with a very serious look, “May I ask to postpone at least until tomorrow morning, perhaps?” This was a bargaining attempt. “Since it was on such short notice, if you could allow me to mentally prepare myself…”

“What’s that mean?” I conceded with a laugh.

Though I thought he’d be more than satisfied already, Kei spent the rest of the night until dawn savoring these last moments to hold himself over for the next two months… oh, for God’s sake… I won’t be able to stand up tomorrow… and I have a lesson in the afternoon, so I have to warm up plenty in the morning… ah— ahhhhhn, there, that’s good…hnngh… yes…mmm, ah— I’m coming…I’m —-! Ahh...

———

“Well, I guess that’s about it for the Bach.” Fukuyama-sensei said, while drawing flower circles and stars on certain notes in the margin of my score — which was already filled with writing. “The only thing left is to see if you can do it right in the performance. Of course you should practice every day until the preliminary round, but be sure to use the music when you practice. In the first round you’ll be judged on how accurately you can play according to the score. If you play even one note that sounds out of character, you‘ll be out. Now, let’s go to Tzigane.”

“Yes. Sanjo-san, if you would.”

“My pleasure.”

Today is August 18th, a Friday. This is one of my final three lessons before the first round of the Nippon. For the first round of the competition it’s Bach’s Sonata No.1 for solo violin, which Sensei told me to play ‘faithfully and precisely according to the score!’ For the second round I have to play Ravel’s Tzigane, which my accompanist Kaoruko Sanjo and I had a lot of ‘fun’ discussing…

“Ohh, that’s it.”

“No, play it this way!”

I was very happy to just be playing the piece as well as we were after arguing with her so much. We felt we had gotten it to a certain level, but… today, sensei tore down and trampled the result of all our painstaking efforts, leaving a pile of rubble that barely resembled the original form we’d created.

“Ohh, nononono! It’s not even close!”

I wonder how many times I’ve heard him yell at me like that…

“How can you hope to convince the judges with such naive phrasing! Where’s the ‘Ravel’ sound in it? Huh? Shut up, your silly theories don’t mean anything! You’ve got to do it all over again. Start from the beginning! You’ll be playing a proper Tzigane by the end of the day, so help me! If it’s not ready by the lesson the day after tomorrow, don’t even bother competing in the Nippon! Right, Morimura!? Morimura!!”

“Y-yes…”

“Answer me properly!”

“YES!”

So I was forced to relentlessly re-write almost all the markings I’d made in my score, while being yelled at and told things like, “You’re wrong!! Are your ears made out of wood? Do it like this, like this!!” and “That’s completely wrong!! You idiot, be serious!”

He wasn’t just pushing me around, he was trampling, kicking and stomping all over me…! My body felt destroyed in mentally and physically, but somehow I managed to bury this deep inside and focus on vengeance (If I lose, I’ll blame it on him! Yeah, and I’ll tell him… that’ll make me feel better!) so I could practice when I got back to the apartment. Choberiba (one of Sora-kun’s trademark words), I’m so pissed… ‘What the hell, that conceited, egotistical, demonic old man!!’ I thought to myself, then ignored my exhaustion and began to review the notes from the lesson in that miserable state…

‘If you play Tzigane like that, it’s hopeless!’

Well then, if I can play it ‘the way he says,’ then it shouldn’t be hopeless, and I should be able to get past the second round! Alright, I’ll do it perfectly, exactly the way he told me, no room for error, and we’ll see how things go! Both me and Sanjo-san had put everything we had into finishing Tzigane. But Sensei rejected all of it and said ‘if you want to win, play it the way I say’ and forced his own style on us, because ours ‘wasn’t Ravel’ and was ‘completely insipid in every way.’ Even though Sanjo-san and I had really tried our best! I’m sure he already knew that a long time ago, but up until now he only made small adjustments here and there and said nothing… so we kept doing our own thing this whole time because we thought it was okay!

And now it’s all wrong? We have to start over again?! How many days does he think we have left? And he’s still insisting we have to fix it?! Our Tzigane won’t pass?! So now I have to start from scratch and do it his way?!?! Even if it’s too much, even if it’s too late, I have to do the impossible?! Got it. Then let’s see how it goes. If he says I can’t pass the second round unless I do it the ‘Fukuyama way’ then fine, I’ll do it!

By the time I got back to the apartment and started reviewing, it was a little before 6pm. I refused the convenience store onigiri Kei bought for me and downed two cans of Calorie Mate instead… then when I gave up, crying because I couldn’t work any more, I crawled into bed at what I think was after 2am. But I heard Kei’s alarm go off in the morning, and as soon as the sound hit me I woke up with a clear head. Even though I only slept four hours, I got my weary body up and quickly prepared breakfast for Kei so I could continue the rest of the previous night’s practice.

“You should eat properly,” I heard Kei say, taking away my bow and replacing it with a cup of coffee.

“I don’t have time for that—“

“All the more reason that you eat and sleep well. If you get sick at this point in the game, you’ll be out of luck.”

“But I have to master all of this today!”

“Hmm?”

I showed the score to Kei, who’d come over to take a peek. With my bow, I tapped the mess of black writing scrawled over red in the margins, “Look at this! Yesterday I was suddenly told that I had to redo everything!”

“Sanjo-san said that?”

“Not her, why would she tell me to redo everything? It was Sensei, Sensei was the one who told me this part was wrong, that part was wrong, on and on! Just look at how much he wrote and rewrote—“

“I see. So now you have to start over from scratch?”

“What choice do I have?! After he told me off so harshly, it’s like…ugh.” Kei probably doesn’t understand how it feels to be an ‘apprentice’ that has no choice but to slink away with his tail between his legs, even if you don't agree with the abusive words of a demonic teacher… but I’m not gonna just sit there and take it. “I’m going to play it exactly the way Sensei told me, and if I don’t advance, I’ll throw it back in his face.”

“Hm. Then shouldn’t you be even more concerned about your physical and mental health?”

“Well… yes… that’s true.” I nodded, since it was a good argument.

Kei said with a somewhat pleased look on his face, “I’ll be your trainer.”

“Trainer…?”

“I’ll supervise your condition and take care of your daily needs. Would that be all right? M-Kyo is off for the whole month of August, and I’m already done with my competition.”

“Ah…that’s…” Although I have my own pace that I want to go at to get through this difficult stretch, I also felt like I owed Kei since he’d agreed to be abstinent for up to two months. “I can’t promise to do everything you tell me, since I know how I want to go about it. But if you’re OK with that…”

“I think I have a good idea of your personality and lifestyle, and of course I respect it. Basically I’ll just give you advice now and then to keep you from going crazy.”

“In that case, I guess that’s what you’ve always done.” Kei has a history of making me follow the ‘going to bed by 1am’ rule whenever I lose track of time in intense practice.

“It sounds like you don’t like the idea very much,” Kei said with a sigh, his poker face trying to mask his disappointment. “It’s just that I would like to be involved in any way I can.”

…Huh?

“I want to do something to support you, but since you have Fukuyama-shi to take care of the musical aspect, the only other thing I can do is be celibate… which seems quite sad.”

“I-I’m sorry— t-thank you—“ No, I didn’t mean to smile! “No, um… Kei, I’m sorry.” I wrapped my arms around the neck of the man that was 20cm taller than me, who definitely looked older next to me, and gave him a light kiss on the lips. I really wanted to give him a deep lover’s kiss, but that would have violated my own abstinence rules. “You just made me feel very loved, which made me feel happy, and made me smile. Be my trainer, please. I’ll put my health in your hands. Please take care of me.”

“Yes.” Ah, jeez… seeing that look of delight on his face… he’s gonna make me blush.

“Though right now, I feel pretty good…I’m maybe a little bit nervous. My shoulders aren’t tight, and my stomach isn’t as bad as it could be.”

Kei listened to my self-assessment with a serious look on his face and nodded in agreement, “Then you can start practicing after breakfast.”

“Okay.”

“Today there’s just boiled eggs, but I’ll master other egg dishes by tomorrow.”

“No way… you cooked?” Today I’d only prepared food for Kei because I wasn’t interested in eating.

“Unfortunately, what I made isn’t exactly fine dining. Sorry.”

I see now… the salad was just washed and torn lettuce (that wasn’t drained enough so it was soggy), and the three eggs on the plate were so overcooked that the yolks were green around the edges… the only decent things were the coffee and toast. Out of gratitude for Kei, I sat down to my watery lettuce salad and unimpressive boiled eggs, though I couldn’t eat as much as Kei had anticipated…

(You know, Kei, you don’t have to take the whole head of lettuce apart, you can just peel off as many leaves as you think you’ll eat…)

For lunch he got us both multi-level boxed bentos delivered from Koryori Fujimi. Dinner was also from there, but instead of having the restaurant bring it, Kei picked it up himself, so it was still warm when he served it.

“I’m going to rehearsal for Fujimi, but I’ve ordered you a massage at 8pm, so please don’t take a bath before that.”

“Massage?”

“I’ve asked them to come every day for the next ten days, until the second round.” After that, Kei headed out; I was taking this week off from Fujimi, so I stayed at the apartment. The person that came to give the massage was Dr. Tamaki from the Tamaki Clinic… that is, the younger brother, Kunio.

(Kei… aren’t you going a little overboard?)

It was a luxury, but when I went back to practicing after Kunio-sensei’s massage, I realized the result of the luxury was very effective. To make the sound I want from the violin, there has to be no unnecessary tension anywhere. But I still have to consciously make myself relax from time to time, meaning there’s still some tension that creeps in. Thanks to the massage, I was able to begin my practice in very good condition, which refreshed my exhausted body. However, after ten days of this, I’m afraid I’ll get addicted to it… which might be a bit of a problem.

Breakfast the next day was a complete change from yesterday’s, like a real hotel breakfast: there was a colorful salad, scrambled eggs, even fruit — though the vegetables were clumsily chopped, and the eggs had the wrong balance of sugar to salt. “You really did do a crash course yesterday…”

“Yeah, Izawa told me my basics weren’t so bad.”

Izawa-san is the butler of Kei’s parents’ house (how many people live in that mansion?!). Kei said since he was an excellent housekeeper, he asked him to be his mentor — and Kei had headed out to start his training with gusto. But when he’d come back from his crash course in the evening, Kei had two band-aids on his fingers, and this morning there was another mark on his arm.

“That’s good… but please don’t push yourself too much. You’re not very good with your hands to begin with, are you? Except when it comes to batons and musical instruments.”

“Anything can be learned with practice.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry about unimportant things. Eat quickly and start practicing, your lesson today is at 2pm.”

So I guess… he’s enjoying being a trainer? I guess that’s fine, learning to cook isn’t a bad thing. As I was thinking about it, I suddenly imagined Kei wearing a chef’s hat…

Learning to cook → Kei’s a perfectionist, so naturally he’d want to be a chef → Chef’s…Hat…

It was a three-step scenario, but the idea was so ridiculous it made me laugh! And if he wanted to wear a hat like that, he’d have to have a custom kitchen or else it would get caught on the ceiling…

“Does it taste… funny?”

I was grinning at the thought of ‘Chef Kei,’ so he misunderstood. I decided to be honest, “No, it’s not that. I just was thinking, you’re the type of person who wants to master whatever they get into. So if you got into cooking, you’d aim to be a certified chef, which means you’d wear one of those hats, and then… you’d be nearly 2.5 meters tall…” I couldn’t stop giggling at the thought!

“Hmmm. Well if it means I get to see such a big smile on your face, maybe I’ll go out and buy a set today.”

“A…s-s-set?”

“A kitchen outfit. The hat, apron, neckerchief. What color should it be around the collar? Do I need a fake mustache? I think Michelin chefs always have fine mustaches.”

“No, don’t do that!” I was laughing so hard it took me an hour to finish breakfast. But I guess all that laughing helped relieve a lot of unnecessary stress… that morning I was surprisingly focused, and succeeded in drilling most of the corrections I needed to make into my head, when I thought there was no way I’d be able to do them all.

Then in my lesson with Sensei, I was able to play convincingly enough to make him turn away and ponder (and I didn’t get a lot of abuses hurled at me). Sanjo-san and I were relieved when we heard him ask, “What number are you in the first round?”

“Ah, right, I’m number 17 on the second day.”

“Then it’ll be in the morning. I’ll be there if I can make it.”

“Thank you very much. I hope to see you there.”

“You’re a bit overripe to be doing your first competition, but do the best you can.”

“I intend to.”

———

I’d assumed Sensei’s comment about me being ‘overripe’ was just his usual sarcasm, but when I entered the warmup room on the second day of the competition, I realized it wasn’t an exaggeration.

It was Friday, August 25th. The morning sun shone brightly on the sign that said “Nippon Music Competition: Violin Section, First Round” in the waiting room of Eno Hall, promising to make today another hot one. Everywhere I looked, there were no participants older than me, and they all seemed like brilliant students who’d been playing violin since they were three or four years old. While waiting for my turn, I deeply regretted turning down Kei’s offer to come with me.

Oh my God, the youngest competitor is 14!? And one of the older ones was still in her third year of college… which would make her 21 or so… three years younger than me, and an active music student. I know there’s no seniority in the world of music, where talent speaks for itself, but even so it would feel pretty undignified if I, a 24-year-old with a music degree, played worse than them. Ahhh… if I don’t make it past the first round, I’m sure it’ll mentally damage me to the point I can’t hold a bow again…

No, that’s not gonna happen. And if you believe that, then you’d better be prepared to do it right, Yuuki Morimura! This first round Bach piece is all about playing faithfully to the score, and of course you’ve already practiced and memorized the music to such a point that you can say it’s perfect!! So what are you moaning about? If you’ve done the work, you should be looking forward to getting through the first round!

But… I won’t know if I can show the results of all my hard work until I’m on stage… and if I’m this nervous right now, I wonder if I’ll be able to even do it properly once it’s time to do the real thing… I don’t know if I’ll even be able to walk onto the stage… ahh, jeez! What did Kei say to me this morning?!

‘With your skill, getting through the first round will be a piece of cake. You don’t need to think about anything, just play it; the judges only need to check your performance as a matter of course for the second round, and their criteria is nothing more than whether or not you can play without making mistakes. Don’t worry, you’ll advance.’

That’s how Kei had reassured me, to just play the piece as usual. Ughh…

“But playing it ‘as usual’ is the problem~!”

If it were so easy to play in the performance the way you practiced it, I wouldn’t have any worries! Going by past experiences, my probability of success the day of the performance is uncertain, it seems to come down to luck.  But I have to make the most of whatever luck I get today, for Kei’s sake, since he’s devotedly supporting me. And for my own sake, I can’t let myself get eliminated in the first round!

“Ughh…hiccup…” I felt the nerves hit my stomach. I immediately searched my bag for the drink I’d packed, suppressing the urge to vomit by clenching my abdominal muscles and doing breathing exercises. What? Oh no! You’ve gotta be kidding, I swear I put it in the bag! No, wait, I drank it as soon as I got here; I’d felt overwhelmed with the atmosphere and my stomach started to churn, so I downed it. But now I’m in trouble… I have to do something about this nausea or I actually won’t be able to go on stage.

“Urp…” This psychologically-induced nausea only makes me feel like vomiting — it doesn’t actually make me do it — but it’s still embarrassing to be making these kinds of noises backstage around other people. Ahh, damn it… maybe if there’s a doctor’s office nearby I could go get an anti-nausea shot or something… no, I don’t have time for that. I’ll just go drink some water for now.

Holding a handkerchief over my mouth, I got up and started to leave the dressing room when I heard somebody ask, “What’s the matter? Are you alright?” It was an old woman who’d approached me. I nodded to her so she wouldn’t be concerned, a little afraid to open my mouth and also in a bad mood. She looked up at me and asked, “Are you anemic? Are you going to come back?”

“No, um… ugh…” I gave her an apologetic look and headed for the bathroom, but the old woman followed after me. And even though I went into the men’s room, she accompanied me and rubbed my back as I dry heaved. “S-sorry… this always happens when I’m really nervous.” I apologized for my embarrassing behavior, but the old woman smiled.

“I know, it’s hard, isn’t it? I’m here to support somebody who does it as a carefree retirement hobby, so he’s relaxed.”

“Do you mean… your husband is competing?” I was more than a little surprised. If he’s with this lady, then they must be around the same age. Somebody like that is in this competition?!

“I think this is his fifth time doing it…” The woman, who looked to be around seventy years old, laughed softly. “He looks forward to it every year, even though he never makes it past the first round. Our children keep telling him to stop if he’s so bad at it.”

“Wow… has he played violin since he was young?”

“He graduated from a technical school and worked as an elementary school music teacher, but he didn’t start playing violin seriously until he retired. Oh, there’s my husband now.”

An elderly gentleman in his seventies came strolling down the hallway. He was a cheerful-looking man with a round face and bald head. “Where have you been, dear? You’re about to go on stage, you had me worried!”

“Yeah, I ran into one of my students. She’s here with her youngest daughter.”

“I wonder what number they’re on… have you tuned? Please hurry up and get ready.”

“Don’t panic, number eight just finished playing.”

“Well then it’ll be your turn soon! Come on honey, hurry up!”

As I watched the gentleman get pushed into the dressing room by his wife, who seemed to be very caring, I thought to myself, ‘So there are participants like that…’ He was doing the competition as a retirement hobby, but of course I’m sure he still practiced hard, so he must be in good shape. He was good looking for his age and had a charming sense of vitality that said ‘I’m having fun and living life.’

“Competitors number 15 through 20, please come to your designated places on the stage,” I heard the attendant’s voice call. Here we go… I wondered what number the old man was. I double checked my violin’s tuning, put some more rosin on my bow, then left the dressing room.

“Number 15? Yes, here’s your spot. Sit in order of number. Number 16, who’s number 16? You?”

“No, I’m number 17.”

“Number 16! Are you here? Oh, is it you? You have to speak up when you’re here or you’ll be in trouble. Yes, that seat there, please. The one next to number 17.”

I understand he must be frazzled after working with the participants all day in yesterday’s round, but he should be more considerate of the people today who are also nervous. As I thought of this, I was going to say something to the girl next to me —  number 16 who’d been the subject of the attendant’s irritation — just to be friendly.

But before I opened my mouth, the old man in seat 15 leaned over and whispered to her, “He’s definitely going to go bald young,” Number 16 girl gave him a blank look. “There are nags everywhere,” he whispered, then seeing the attendant coming back around, deliberately cleared his throat loudly. The girl's shoulders shook a little, which was her only reaction, but it seemed like her nervousness improved a little. She looked about high-school age.

“Number 15, come in, please!” The attendant called.

“Yes, sir!” The elderly man answered, standing up. “Heave-ho!” There was a slight sense of humor coming from him. When I looked at him, he gave me a look that said (I’m gonna do this!); the way he answered the attendant must have been deliberate, to help relax all of us younger people who were stiff with nerves. And actually, he did make me feel more relaxed… but the reaction to him seemed to vary from person to person.

“I don’t like it when people come here just to play around. I’m desperate here...” The person who spoke was number 20, who looked like a college student, and his bad-mouthing belied his own anxiety and nervousness. He continued to complain, mumbling something about how old people should stick to playing gateball… but I kept my ears focused on the old man’s performance, which had just started.

Honestly, I was a bit letdown. I could tell that he was trying to express the religiousness of Bach, but he failed to do so because he allowed his emotions to come through too much. But then his technique wasn’t up to the level of his emotions… though despite thinking ‘this isn’t Bach…’ I found the old man’s performance neither unpleasant nor boring. Even if it wasn’t at the level of a self-indulgent, retired artist, he clearly worked on the details enough to move people’s hearts. If he lives close enough, I should invite him to play in Fujimi… maybe I could catch up with him later and ask. When the old man came back from the stage, I silently applauded him in my heart; he did a good job, and I was happy to hear his love for music come through in his playing.

The next person, the girl who was number 16, froze for a moment at the curt prompting of the attendant. When she stood up she had a glazed look on her face and was startled by the rattle that her chair made.

“Calm down,” I told her. “It’s alright.”

I couldn’t help cheering her on in my heart, but unfortunately she was so shaky in the performance that her talent couldn’t properly shine through. When she came back, her eyes were misty and she looked so disappointed… but that was only because she knew her playing hadn’t been good enough. Even if she didn’t make it past the first round this year, she might do well next year. If she has time to be depressed, then she can use that frustration as a stepping stone to keep going forward. Do your best! But… this isn’t the time to be worrying about other people.

“Next contestant, please.”

The voice of the attendant told me it was my turn to play, so I grabbed the violin from my lap and stood up. Ah — yes, the strings are still tuned. What about the bow!? R-right, I already put rosin on a while ago, so it’s OK. Damn it, can my heart stop racing?! I’ve done everything I could possibly do to get here, now all that remains is to give it one hundred percent. That’s all there is to it. It’s okay, it’ll be okay, Yuuki. Kei’s given me his stamp of approval, so trust in your skills!

I stepped out from behind the curtain and walked to the red tape that marked the center of the stage, then turned to face the audience. Without taking notice of whether Fukuyama-sensei was there or not, I bowed to the judges — who I assumed were also teachers — and readied my violin. First movement of Sonata No. 1, Adagio, unaccompanied. I took a deep breath, held it, counted 1-2-3-4 in my head, then began to play.

I don’t think the true essence of ‘The Great Bach,’ who furthered the development of music through his religious compositions, can be faithfully portrayed just from following the notes on the page… but either way, Fukuyama-sensei had told me, “You’re a hundred years too early to try interpreting Bach! At your age, you still don’t grasp the weight of the faith that motivated him to compose this music! But even if you don’t understand it, you can still play what Bach intended. Go by what’s on the page.” Meaning as long as I accurately play the notes Bach wrote, my Bach will sound like Bach, and that’s what the jury wants to hear. So I’m not to play a thing that’s not written — of course I wouldn’t go making up something, but I had to ensure I didn’t play it with excessive drama, flamboyance or arrogance…

“Failure to do so will result in your disqualification.”

So the result of my strict instruction was exactly the kind of performance you’d expect from a middle-of-the road, not terribly interesting player… at least that’s how I felt. However, when I finished playing the piece accurately and precisely, the way it’d been firmly etched in my mind, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction. It was hard to describe, but I’d say it was kind of like the feeling you get when you do something without thinking about it.

As soon as I’d retreated backstage, the old man came up to me as if he’d been waiting, and said with a satisfied look on his face, “You played a very good Bach! Pious, honest… it was truly Bach!”

I smiled, because really it was my teacher who deserved the compliment, “I just played it how I was taught and followed the score to the letter.”

“Really?”

Before the old man could say anything else, the attendant interrupted him, “We are in the judging space, so please refrain from private conversation.” Plus (You’re an adult, old enough to know better!) was hidden in his glare.

“Ah, yes, yes. So sorry, my apologies,” he said quietly with a supplicative hand motion, then started walking towards the dressing rooms. As I followed in the same direction, I listened keenly to the performance of the girl who was number 18. There were no mistakes, and her sound was beautiful, but as I went through the backstage door I thought it somehow sounded like an empty Bach.

My violin case was still in dressing room ‘A,’ on the opposite side of the hall. I glanced at the remaining contestants there who were going after me, passing the time with nervous faces. I cleaned up my violin, the ‘Mahoroba’ with the wonderful tone that had done its job so well… taking off the shoulder rest, wiping the rosin dust from the strings, wiping down the entire front of the instrument with a simple cloth, and putting it back in its case. I had just loosened the hair on my special bow from Gendo Oda when I heard, “Morimura.”

I turned to look, “Oh, Sensei!” I hurried over to my teacher, who was standing at the door. “Sorry, I was going to go look for you in the audience. Um, thank you for coming.”

Sensei gave me a huffy look and said, “Next up is Tzigane.”

“Yes. I think I might have a chance.”

“Idiot, do you think I taught you that badly?”

“Sorry.”

“Come by tomorrow at eleven.” He said bluntly and then turned away. As he strode off he raised his hand with a little wave that said (Bye).

“Thank you very much.” When I raised my head, he had just turned the corner of the hallway and disappeared. I wondered if maybe he was actually a self-conscious person. Although he’d been my teacher for four years in college, I never knew him outside of the lesson studio, so all I knew was the stern side of him.

“Ahh, is this your dressing room?” I heard someone ask from behind, and I turned around. It was the old man. He came up to me with a smile and offered his hand, saying, “My name’s Tomita.” A… handshake?

“I’m Morimura.” The old man’s hand was calloused, rough and warm.

“Morimura-san, eh? Yes, I’ll remember it. I’m looking forward to playing in the second round!”

I smiled, “I don’t know whether or not I’ll get to play it, but if I fail, I hope it’ll be after the second round.”

“Shh!” The old man — or rather, Tomita-san — held a finger up in front of his mouth. “The words like ‘fail,’ ‘bomb,’ and ‘slip’ are forbidden here.”

I covered my mouth in a panic. “Tsurukame, tsurukame.”

“Oh?” Tomita-san laughed, looking like one of the seven lucky gods. “Are you an old man, Morimura-san?”

“Huh?”

“Because you know the Tsurukame spell.”

“Ahh, it’s because of my grandmother…” I blushed as I answered. “I should thank you, Tomita-san.”

“Did I do something?” No, I wasn’t just thanking him randomly.

“I’m a terribly anxious person, but thanks to you, I wasn’t as anxious today. So thank you for that.”

“Did it make you feel better to know that an old man like me was competing, too?”

“Haha, umm… maybe a little.” I realized after I admitted it that it was kind of rude. “Uh, but, ahh…”

“Then it was worth it.” Tomita-san said, smiling. “I think Japanese competitions are so focused on who wins that they forget their true purpose, which is the positive effect of a little friendly competition. I participate every year just to spite them,” he said.

“I hate to say it, but when I was listening to your Bach, I thought ‘this doesn’t sound like Bach.’ Yet I was compelled by it. I don’t really know what else to say, but… um, where do you live?”

Tomita-san’s address is in the same city as Ototsubo, meaning he wasn’t far away, but wasn’t exactly close.

“Oh really? I live in Fujimi-cho. So actually, I thought it would be nice to invite you to play in our orchestra.”

“Then, would that be the Fujimi Civic Symphony Orchestra?”

I shook my head. “True, our Fujimi is also called the ‘Fujimi Civic Symphony Orchestra,’ but it’s confusing because we have the same name. Ours is more like a club, and we’re not officially affiliated with the city.”

“Did they play the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto last November?”

“Ah, yes. Did you happen to go?”

“I did! So are you the otaku that played the solo?” Tomita-san’s voice was too loud for a place like this. The people around us gave disapproving looks.

“Maybe we should go into the lobby?” I suggested in a whisper, and Tomita-san nodded.

What was I doing… hmm… right, I was in the middle of putting my bow away. Here’s my music, I have my violin case, and my wallet and cell are in my bag. That’s everything. “Thanks for waiting for me.” I joined the Tomitas in the hallway, and we went into the lobby where we could chat freely. I grabbed an empty sofa for the elderly couple and introduced myself again,  “I’m the concertmaster in Fujimi, and also the soloist…”

Tomita-san responded to my request with a firm handshake, “That would be great! The orchestra wasn’t the best, but I was so drawn in that I didn’t mind it! It gave me this feeling… like I wanted to be up there playing along with them.”

“It would be great to have you join us.” I bowed out of habit, and Tomita-san put his hand on his head.

“Well…”

“Oh, you’re probably already playing somewhere else, aren’t you? So it would be impossible to come all the way to Fujimi then.”

“No, no, I don’t play in any orchestras, and it’s only a 30-minute drive. I’m just surprised somebody like you would invite me.” He was rubbing his head nervously while he spoke, as if I were some kind of famous violinist.

“Well, just so you know, we’ve been needing more strings for a thousand years. So it would be great if you could join us.”

Tomita-san chuckled, “You’re a funny guy.”

“Huh?”

“Everyone else here is so preoccupied with their results, and you’re this otaku trying to recruit orchestra members.”

“Oh…haha, is that unusual? But I have no reason to be nervous now, I’ve already performed.”

“Does that mean you’re confident?” His soft tone of voice wasn’t mean-spirited.

“Ah… I don’t really know about that. I’m confident that I gave it my best shot, and that I didn’t make any mistakes.” Yes, truly. I was confident in how I’d played. This time, somehow, I managed to do the actual performance very easily. My fingers moved well and my strings sounded beautiful — and Sensei was pleased. Ahh, well, that was a big part of it, “Actually, my teacher came to listen, and he told me ‘Next piece is Tzigane.’ So I think that’s why.”

“Who did you study under? Although I might not know even if you tell me.”

“Fukuyama-sensei, an assistant professor at Kunitachi School of Music.”

“Fukuyama… wasn’t he a prize winner in the Ron Thibodeau Competition?”

“Ah, umm…” To be honest, I didn’t really know much about his background. The teacher I had through high school was a graduate of the local Ritsumeikan Junior College, and although he encouraged me to go to Tokyo if I wanted, he didn’t have any contacts there for me to use. When I entered the University, I was assigned to Fukuyama-sensei for my practical instrumental skills, and I spent all four years barely surviving those tough lessons… when I think about it, I don’t even know the names of the teachers he studied with. Oh man, I’m such a terrible student.

Tomita-san continued talking, “Yes, I think he was among the list of past prize winners… I’ll look it up when I get home.”

“Oh…”

“And about what you asked earlier… is it okay for me to join even if I’m self-taught?”

I nodded, “That’s kind of the way Fujimi is, an organization of people who mostly teach themselves. There are a few that take lessons, but most of them played in their school clubs when they were kids, and some help each other out. But there are a few professionals who also play with the MHK.”

“Really….?”

“Tounoin-san brought them on… ahh, that’s our permanent conductor. He’s helping to raise the level of the group.”

“Tounoin… is that the same Kei Tounoin from M-Kyo?”

“Do you know who he is?” I asked in surprise.

“I’ve heard him several times on the radio, on the M-Kyo Hour,” he replied excitedly. “So he’s your regular conductor? That tall guy at the concert was Kei Tounoin?! No wonder he was so good! I just happened to see a poster that said your group was performing my favorite Mendelssohn concerto, so I decided to pop in and hear it. I couldn’t get a program, and after listening to the music, my mind was so full of the sound that I didn’t hear the names of the conductor and soloist. Wow, it was lucky that I met you here, I hope you’ll let me join the orchestra.”

“Thank you, of course you’re welcome to.” I had no way of knowing that this encounter, which was pure coincidence, would help me greatly in the future…but that’s how life goes, I guess. Then after that, I spent the long afternoon with the Tomitas until all the participants had finished performing, enjoying the chatter as a casual listener in the audience. Although Tomita-san’s opinions were sometimes a little off, I found many of his comments, which showed the wisdom of his years, to be helpful for me as well. About an hour after the last performer finished, the results of the second preliminary round were announced. Amongst those advancing - which after doing a little math in my head I realized was harder than I thought — I found my name.

Despite not advancing, Tomita-san said, “The second round is on Monday, isn’t it?”

“Yes, dear. Morimura-san, what do you like to eat? I’m going to make bentos for that day.”

“Oh no, that’s too much.”

“Supporting you that way is the least we can do. Right, dear?”

“Yes, yes. Morimura-kun, please let us cheer you on from the audience.”

“So what’s your piece for the second round?”

“Tzigane, Ravel’s Tzigane. I’ve been practicing it already.”

“Oh, really?”

“You know, the one on that tape Nishida-kun copied for me.”

“Ohh, that one.”

“Yeah, that one!”

As I listened to their banter, I thought to myself (Yeah, the next piece is Tzigane). The day after tomorrow, I’ll be playing it here, on this stage… and whether I advance or fail depends on if Sensei’s instruction was right or wrong. No, that’s not true, it depends on if I can accurately play it the way he taught me, but… now that I’m thinking about it, I’m getting pissed off all over again. Damn that old bastard Fukuyama!

———

Kei had already read today’s results before I could tell him. He gave me a welcome-home kiss and said, “Congratulations.” As soon as he said that, it sunk in… I passed to the second round. When I told Kei that, he laughed, “You didn’t look as nervous as when you left this morning, but the look in your eye was so inscrutable I actually wondered for a moment if you really passed. But there was no way you’d fail in the first round.”

“No, it was pretty close! I had nervous nausea, but I was saved thanks to Tomita-san.”

“Tomita-san…?”

“Yeah, an old man I got to know at the competition. He was about seventy, and was also competing.”

“Really?”

“He didn’t advance, though. I invited him to join Fujimi and he said OK. He recognized your name from the radio.”

“Is that so?”

I noticed that Kei nodded calmly, but when I looked in his eyes it seemed like inside he wasn’t. I looked up twenty centimeters at him, “Does that bother you?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Me talking to Tomita-san.”

“Did I give you that impression?”

“I just had a feeling.”

“You misunderstood,” Kei said with a strange expression. “I don’t think you’d fall in love with a seventy year old man.”

“Well that’s true. But, I’ve never met an old man like him, either. I felt much better knowing that such an old man was also competing, so that’s why I was able to play today without being upset. You… you’re not jealous are you?”

“Do you want me to be jealous?”

“I don’t know… no, it’s fine. I’m not making any sense. I was so nervous, I guess now that I’ve calmed down it’s made me loopy. I don’t know what I want to say.”

As I spoke, I realized I was subconsciously waiting for Kei to kiss me… he also seemed to notice and said, “Yeah, you seem a little excitable. I’ll go make some coffee and you can relax.”

With that, Kei turned away. He said it very gently, but I realized that he did it for my sake, because otherwise he wouldn’t be able to hold back. I felt a sense of disappointment and thought (What’s wrong with him?) before I realized he was sticking to the ban I’d put in place.

“Oh, yeah, thank you.”

I do feel a little lonely without Kei kissing me… but complete abstinence was my idea, after all. Besides, if he kissed me in this mood, we wouldn’t stop there (oh… thinking about the kiss made me start to feel it…) I quickly looked for a way to distract myself.

“Kei, I’ll go take my shower first, so there’s no rush on the coffee.”

My body had been drenched in sweat from the day, and my intention was to clear my head, but maybe taking a shower wasn’t the best idea… I ended up jerking off for the first time in a long time. Maybe years. But I tried not to worry about it… after all, I was kind of in the mood, but had to stay abstinent, so I just took care of it that way.

Afterwards I called Sanjo-san to let her know I’d passed the first round.

《Congratulations. Though I figured as much,》was her response. 《What about Sensei? Did you tell him?》

“Yes, at the venue.”

《What did he say?》

“Not much, just ‘of course.’”

《Ahaha, that’s very in-character for him, right?》

“So, sorry to spring it on you, but he wants me to have a lesson tomorrow at 11am.”

《Yeah, yeah. Did you fix your part yet?》

“I’m working on it.” I’ll get it up to snuff no matter what it takes.

《Me too. We both fucked it up, didn’t we?》

“Huh?”

《Hey Kin-chan, shut up!》

“What?”

《Oh, sorry, didn’t you hear the guitar?》What is she talking about… 《Anyway, you’ll pass the second round too. Talk to you later.》

“Um, yeah, same. Later.” After I hung up, I wondered if that was her boyfriend. I know men aren’t the only ones who play guitar, but it also feels kind of strange to imagine Sanjo-san hanging out with women. Although all her piano friends at Fukuyama-san’s place were girls, she just seems like the type that would rather hang out with guys. She’s like that girl from my high school… um, Yamada-san or something… who was the only girl in the kendo club.

Anyway, I needed to do my own practice still. I played until 1am, then Kei told me it was time to go to bed, so I did. But I couldn’t fall asleep because I was still too wound up… come to think of it, playing the first round of a competition without failing was a remarkable accomplishment for me, right? No wonder I can’t fall asleep. But three days from now I have to play the second round, so I have to make the most of my remaining two days and make sure I get a good night’s sleep…

As I flipped over a second time, Kei got up and left the room. When he came back, he said, “Yuuki, please drink this.”

“Huh?” I sat up, and what he offered me looked like hot milk — oh, it was mixed with brandy. Kei had two cups and handed me one, then sat cross-legged on the bed with his own cup in hand.

“Most of the contestants today were students, weren’t they?” He said nonchalantly.

“Yeah, there were high school and even junior high students.” I took a sip of the milk— actually the brandy in it was pretty strong.

“Oh, do you want sugar?”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

“Right away.”

Kei started to get up, but I stopped him, “It’s fine, I can get it myself.”

“No, I’m your butler.”

“I thought you were my trainer?”

“Something like that.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” I was a little annoyed that Kei was being so insistent on doing things for me (though it’s not like he’s usually lazy), but I decided to respect his wishes. “How was the atmosphere at the competition?” Kei returned to the topic when he brought me the sugar.

“It was kind of like an examination room…”

“Not much of an audience, right?”

“Yeah. The only people allowed were those that were participating or had something to do with the event.”

“If it were in Europe, the seats would be filled.”

“I read about that in a magazine or something, that the atmosphere over there is really good.”

“Musicians become musicians by being listened to, so the quality of the audience is very important.”

“Some people say that classical music fans in Japan haven’t really developed yet, and others say they are serious and good at listening.”

“I think there are many fans here with discerning ears. But taken as a whole I think the level is still low. Maybe it’s because of an inherent passivity towards accepting foreign things… there’s no positive attitude to nurture good performers, to listen to good performances. So in Japan, unless you’re very lucky, you can’t make a living in the music business.”

“But we’re trying to become professionals in this situation, aren’t we?” I blushed inwardly when I said ‘we,’ but then told myself (stop). Deciding to enter a competition means aiming for something beyond ourselves. I can’t run away or give up now.

Kei, oblivious to my inner conflict, replied, “Yes, taking on competitions is a step in the right direction. But you know, Yuuki, there’s no reason to be tense, no need to make a big deal out of it. We simply love music, and wish to always have it in our lives. So as long as we continue to love it, then our wish will come true. Isn’t that great? I believe in our position we can enjoy the music we make no matter what the outcome, and that’s something to be happy about.”

Does that mean… I should enjoy the competition as well? Wasn’t that what Tomita-san had said to me, that participating in friendly competition was one of life’s pleasures?

“Ahh… I wish I could think about it that way.” I smiled, feeling like that would be impossible for me.

“You just have to believe it,” Kei said simply. “I didn’t advance in the Tokyo International Competition, but that doesn’t mean I can’t wave a baton. There’s nothing in the Nippon entry rules that says unsuccessful applicants have to give up the violin. It’s just a competition.”

“That’s… kind of an extreme analogy.”

“That’s what’s really important though, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… I guess so… but I have a habit I haven’t really talked to you about. For me, I become a complete perfectionist in these kinds of situations, with no perspective on the bigger picture. I can only focus on two things: winning or losing.”

“I see. But, zero is impossible.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re married to me.”

“…You’ve come back to that.”

“Yes. No matter what you give up, you’ve already made that choice and you can’t go back on it.”

“About that… actually…” It was something I’d never intended to tell Kei, but… maybe it was the brandy that loosened my tongue, “The day you followed me to my lesson with Fukuyama-sensei, you remember what I said? That you were more important to me than violin… than music itself. But to tell the truth, I never really came to a decision. In the end I wasn’t confident I could ever give up music… even for you.”

“That’s my Yuuki.”

His response was immediate, and I accepted it gratefully. “Yeah…” I hadn’t lied to him, but I also hadn’t told him the truth, and it had weighed on my mind for a while. “Yeah, if we didn’t have music in common, I don’t think our relationship would have been possible. We’re the same type, the kind of people who need music to survive… that’s why it was such a bold thing for me to decide to get married. Like, if you lost your ability to do music for some reason, there’s no way I would ever stop loving you. And if the time comes when I can’t play the violin any more, I would still love you also, but it would be very difficult for me to live… I can’t compare or choose between you and music, both of them are vital parts of my life… so it makes me think that my love isn’t strong enough…”

“That’s not the case,” Kei’s voice was somber. “What is more essential to survival, air or water? The answer is that a person cannot live without either. There’s a difference in regards to how long it takes before you die, but not much. You and I had lived our lives not knowing each other until that one day last year, when we met thanks to the thing we both cannot live without: music. For me, too, the proposition that I have to choose between you and music… is invalid. When confronted with such a ridiculous question, just toss it aside.”

“Kei…”

“I love you.”

“I lov—“ I was about to say I loved him too, but I suddenly turned away from Kei’s gaze. “S-sorry, I need to go to bed.”

I was the one who suggested abstinence; it had only been twelve days, and I might have a lot longer to go still. Yet I was so disappointed that Kei’s ‘Good night’ kiss was only a brush of the lips — just as it was supposed to be — that I resented the fact that I had to go to sleep with my body burning with lust. I closed my eyes with a sense of frustration, and tossed and turned before finally falling asleep.

———

August 28th, a Monday. The minute I left the apartment I started pouring sweat. Today was the second round. It was sunny even in the morning, but the room I was waiting in was air-conditioned. Kei had accompanied me to the venue this time. The sign at the doors to Eno Hall had changed to “Nippon Music Competition: Violin Section, Second Round Entrance” and the atmosphere was somewhat foreboding, which made me think (I don’t like this…). I felt like I might get nervous today. After I received a numbered entry pass at the registration table, I joined Kei, who had entered through the general admission door.

“Where will you be?”

“I think I’ll sit behind the judges’ table.”

“Okay. Well, see you later.”

“Have a good performance.”

“That’s the plan.”

“You’ll be fine. If you forget something, look into the audience. I’ll guide you.”

“Ahaha, you’ll be too far away!”

“I’ll stand up and conduct.”

It took me a minute to realize Kei was joking… and I knew I was losing my composure. “Oh man, I’m so nervous.” The anxiety started to build, making my stomach churn. I tried to force myself to smile, but it came out as an awkward twitch.

“Ahh, then I’ll give you a good luck charm,” Kei said, pulling something out of his pocket. “Your hand.”

“Oh, okay.” My violin case was in my right hand, so I held out my left.

“Your right one.”

“Ahh jeez, why does it matter….” I mumbled, holding out my right hand, palm up, while my eyes were fixed on the clock on the wall. Kei flipped it over and… slipped a thin silver ring on my ring finger. “Huh?”

“I don’t want it to interfere with the fingering on your left hand. It seems to be the right size, doesn’t it?”

“Oh…yeah.” I nodded, looking intently at the ring — the first time in my life that I’d worn one. Kei flashed his left hand up to me and I saw he had one on his ring finger, thin and silver just like mine. “Ah—“

“Yes.” It was a wedding ring.

“Um—“

“It’s a good luck charm, to get you through your performance on stage.” Kei smiled and pushed my shoulder, “Go on, now,” He said. “I’ll see you in the audience.”

“Yeah.” I nodded and lifted my right hand. I quickly kissed the silver charm in thanks, and noticed Kei’s smile deepen as I headed for the backstage door.

He got us wedding rings… a set… oh my God, he’s so… can I take it off after I leave the stage? There’s no way I can do that, it’s a symbol of his feelings, meaning his heart is always with me. Then that means I can’t ever take it off! That’s not good, I don’t want to wear matching rings… but it also makes me really happy… oh dear… Kei, I want to kiss you!

Sanjo-san was already backstage in the waiting area, and immediately spotted the ring with her eagle eyes. “Ohhhh—“ She pointed at the ring and grinned.

“It’s a good luck charm,” I retorted, feeling my face turning red. But Sanjo-san just shrugged and didn’t tease me any further.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Oh really? Hey, want to make a bet?”

“Huh?”

“Ten grand on today’s results.”

“How are we betting on that…?”

“I mean, If you advance, then you win the bet.”

“So does that mean you’re betting against me, Sanjo-san?!”

“Of course, otherwise it wouldn’t be a bet. Or are you not sure of yourself?”

Come on, is this her way of encouraging me? “Fine, 10k then.”

“OK. Looks like I’ll have a lot of extra money if I win. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Hey now…” I’d warmed up my fingers this morning, but I didn’t feel comfortable just waiting around. There were other people practicing out loud, so I decided to quickly run over some parts while tuning. I wondered if I’d properly memorized everything Fukuyama-sensei had told me… but then I couldn’t concentrate, so I stopped. There was no point in fretting about that now, so l had to just believe that I’d prepared enough.

There were 24 of us left in the second round, and I was number 12. As the second group of five was leaving the stage, Sanjo-san stood up and said, “I’m gonna go change.” I saw her leave, thinking that indeed, the pants she currently had on would be a problem to wear on stage. A moment later I heard the door open and turned around, thinking maybe Sanjo-san had come back to get something she forgot. But the woman who walked in had black hair and a long black dress, so I looked away with an expression that said (sorry, wrong person).

She glanced back and said, “Damn, my head is so hot!”

“Huh? … Sanjo-san?! But—??” The mischievous smile on her face was definitely hers. “A… hairpiece?”

“Call it a wig!” As she said that, she rummaged through a paper bag that had her change of clothes and pulled out a pair of black pumps. She took off her sandals, put her red manicured bare feet into the black shoes, and said, “OK, ready to go.” She rummaged through the bag again, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, and walked out the door saying, “I’m going out for a smoke.”

I sighed unintentionally. That was all a bit much, Sanjo-san… ah, but also surprising. The last person who’d gone up to bat in the third group was a girl that looked about high school age, and their accompanist was a middle-aged woman. The other person who walked with her from backstage to the waiting area looked like either her mother or her teacher. I felt sorry for the girl as she was crying her eyes out.

The moment Sanjo-san left the dressing room she went silent, and in the seat next to me in the waiting area she was staring at the stage, her legs crossed and her arms folded in a slumped position on the chair, all semblance of being a proper lady gone — after she’d gone to so much trouble to look like one. That I was able to make such a calm observation was pretty unusual, as a nervous person…

“Number 12, please come.”

I stood at the sound of the stage manager’s voice, and heard Sanjo-san stand up with a sharp intake of breath. It’s the moment of truth. I took two deep breaths and stepped out onto the stage. I measured the distance from the piano with a glance from the corner of my eye and decided on my position. As I was about to raise my violin up, I realized I hadn’t bowed. Oh man… I bowed to the judges and searched for Kei when I raised my head, but I didn’t see him. I took a deep breath and put my violin in position, bow on the string. The flash of the silver ring on my finger caught my eye — and I felt Kei’s presence.

The first note of the opening cadenza, the forte ‘B,’ sounded powerful even to me. And from that moment, it felt like the sound flowed out of me, the score appearing clearly in my mind. I knew everything that I needed to do, all I had to do was execute it precisely with the fingers and bow. The transition from the solo part to the ensemble with the accompaniment was flawless and smooth, perfectly in sync. When we finished playing the ten-minute piece, I thought to myself (I won!!) without really having a good reason to think that. With the applause and shouts of ‘bravo’ in my ears, I left the stage dizzy, my head down.

“Hey, hold up!” I felt my arm get pulled and turned around. I looked down at Sanjo-san, whose face was bright red, “What was with that speed? It was so fast!”

Huh?

“I’m not kidding!”

Is she talking about the tempo? Was it too fast? “Umm, what part are you talking about��“

“Sheesh, I’m not gonna play with you again… my fingers are about to fall off, my heart’s racing…”

Sanjo-san seemed really upset, which means I must have made a terrible mistake…. “Sorry, I got caught up in the moment and felt like it was going well…” I apologized.

She looked up at me and furrowed her brow, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just apologizing.”

“For what?”

“What do you mean, didn’t you say I made a mistake?”

“Who made a mistake? You, otaku? Are you a total—” She was about to say ‘idiot,’ but she stopped with her mouth open and just stared at me, “I can’t believe you…” she mumbled. “I don’t know where you got that idea…”

I rubbed my head awkwardly when suddenly I heard, “Fantastic!” It was Tomita-san, and he came up and clasped my hand tightly with both of his.

“Sibelius is next.” Sensei said to me, patting me on the shoulder.

“It was wonderful.” Kei nodded with a contented poker face. Then it clouded over suddenly, “Are you alright?”

Huh? What? I wanted to say that out loud but my voice wouldn’t work. My legs began to tremble and I panicked.

“Let’s sit down.”

“There’s a sofa nearby.”

“Hey, pull yourself together, dumbass.”

Kei took me by the shoulders and made me sit down on the sofa, which was already half full; Sanjo-san was sitting there with Tomita-san beside her. He looked at me and smiled with a “Hey!”

“Nice job today,” Kei said to Sanjo-san, and she laughed.

“He made me fly through it, I got tripped up a bit.”

“You’re a couple of rookies.” Fukuyama-sensei said, but with a good-natured tone. “Kaoruko, I’m heading out, would you like a ride?”

“Oh, sure,” she said, and her wig fell off as she got up…

“I’ll call you with the results,” I told her.

“And I’ll give you another 10,000 yen,” she replied, and followed after Sensei.

Kei cocked his head to the side, “10,000 yen?”

“We made a bet,” I told him.

“If I advance to the next round, she’ll pay me, and if I don’t, then…” What, Sanjo-san, did you just…

“I see, so then you would pay her.”

“You catch on quick!”

“You think so?”

“Ah… I feel like I might advance. When I finished playing, I felt a big rush and thought (Yesss!). I’ve never felt that way after a performance.”

“Hmm, I guess making you angry gives you inspiration?”

Somehow… I’d forgotten how furious I was about my teacher’s methods. “If I advance, it’s thanks to this amulet,” I said, trying to hide my embarrassment, but immediately regretted the words. It’s just I didn’t like feeling as though I were simply my teacher’s puppet, and I felt like Kei could see that. “Sorry, but I really do think this really helped me. Thanks to this I didn’t get nervous. So I’ll cherish it forever.”

I was about to bring it to my lips when I heard Tomita-san say, “Well that’s a fancy ring.”

(Shit…) We’re not by ourselves. What was I thinking?! Talking about the ring in front of the Tomitas and other people wasn’t a good idea, right?!

“Oh, um, Tounoin-san, this is Tomita-san, the person I was telling you about. This is Kei Tounoin, our permanent conductor.”

He turned to Tomita-san, “How do you do. I’m Tounoin.”

“Umm… uh, so…”

Kei’s calm baritone took over and I felt relief wash over me, “You went out of your way to come and support Morimura-san today? Thank you so much. The other members from Fujimi here, too. I can introduce you to them later.”

“Huh? They’re all here?”

“Of course. It’s our concert master’s big day, after all.”

I had no idea that the people from Fujimi would come to listen. “But it’s a weekday, doesn’t everyone have work? Were they in the audience?”

“If you’re done here, why don’t we go say hi. They’re waiting in the entrance lobby.”

“Yeah, let’s go. Oh, please come with us, Tomita-san.”

However, I thought it would be bad for us to be wearing the pair of matching rings in front of all the Fujimi people, so I wondered if I should take mine off. I had decided I’d only wear it when we were alone… I glanced at my right hand. The slender silver band shined with its divine glow. (No… I can’t take it off…) Kawashima-san knows me so well, she’ll probably tease me about it… and Igarashi-kun and the others are curious as cats, so they would probably grill me. But the fact that I was able to perform properly on stage today was thanks to the encouragement from this ring… all of Kei’s heart was contained in this small token of affection, so it could always be close to me. What would Kei think if I took it off just because I was worried about what other people thought?

“Morimura-san.” I looked up at the baritone whisper.

“Hm?!”

“Tomita-san, could you wait here for a moment?” He called out to the couple. We were in front of the restroom, and as I walked in he went by me. “I’ll take that.” Kei pointed to the ring on my right hand.

“Huh? It’s okay, I told you I wouldn’t take it off.”

“Kawashima-kun is here. Ishida-kun too.”

“It’s fine.” I insisted. Inwardly I was relieved at Kei’s offer, but more than that, I knew I shouldn’t let it get to me.

“Then I’ll put mine away.”

I grabbed Kei’s hand and stopped him as he was about to remove his own ring. “If you don’t care, I don’t care.”

Kei beamed beautifully at me. Maybe that was a strange way to phrase it, but his smile couldn’t be described any other way. “I care.” He gently removed my hand, took the ring off of his left finger and dropped it in his breast pocket. “I’ll buy a chain for it. That would be OK.”

“Kei…” I could imagine Kei wanting to buy a pair of rings but not knowing my size, and I wondered when he’d taken the measurements. I felt bad. If I had the courage to be out about our relationship, I wouldn’t have made him care about it.

“I’m sorry… really…” I apologized, and Kei suddenly gave me a quick kiss before turning away.

“Let’s go.” The gesture made me think that Kei was upset, even though he didn’t let it show in his voice or mannerisms. I followed after him with a sigh.

The twenty Fujimi people waiting for me in the lobby greeted me with applause and gushed about my performance.

“It was amazing, Morimura-chan. Just amazing!” Ishida ‘Nico-chan’ kept saying.

“I felt my left hand cramping up just watching you, but now I want to play it. I feel inspired to practice more!” Haruyama-san said. “I was so nervous for you.”

Igarashi-kun, who was usually bright and talkative, only muttered, “Yoshino-san already left.” He was talking about one of the members who was also in the other Fujimi Civic Orchestra, which was of a higher level than our Fujimi. I guess he wanted to let me know that Yoshino-san — who always styled himself as a semi-pro — had gone home with his tail between his legs.

“You did a good job, it was really great.” Kawashima-kun gave me a bouquet of flowers as a gift, and immediately spotted the ring on my right hand. “Oh—“ She didn’t say anything, but cast a meaningful look at Kei and sighed. Oh man…

After I brought Tomita-san to meet Nico-chan and introduced him to everyone as a new member of the group, I went over to Sora-kun and Endo-kun, who I had noticed earlier because they seemed to be arguing. But when I went to talk to them, I certainly wasn’t the topic.

“Hey, I’m here. Just the two of you came?”

“Takane left.” Sora-kun said with a pout.

“Oh, so Ikushima-san came too?”

“He just went like, ‘Hmmmmm,’ forgot about him and left.”

“Hmmm?”

“I don’t know how to take the train home.”

“That’s why I said I’d take you home!” Endo-kun said, which he’d apparently repeated several times before.

“I’m going to stay here until Takane remembers.” Sora-kun said, his expression stubborn as a mule. Apparently this argument had been going on for a while.

“Hey, do what you want then…” Endo-kun grumbled. “He just keeps going on and on about Takane... but I know he forgot.”

I could see that Sora-kun was holding back tears, and the reason he was being so difficult was because of something Endo-kun didn’t know: Ikushima-san and Sora-kun were lovers. That’s why Sora-kun was so shocked that he’d been left behind. I pulled Sora-kun close and patted his lonely head like a small child.

“I’ll take care of him,” I said to Endo-kun. “You have a part-time job now, don’t you? I’m just going to wait for the results and go home, so...”

Endo-kun looked irritated and bumped Sora-kun’s head lightly with his fist. “You act like a brat, so you got left behind. But you can either go after him, or you can sit there fretting about it like a woman and eventually he’ll leave you. Do you wanna get dumped?!”

Oh… so Endo-kun does know? While I was taking in that information, Sora-kun’s head jerked up from under my arm. “N-no—“

“Then go after that bear and ask him why he left you here. Yeah?”

“…yeah.”

“Look, I can go with you to a place that you recognize, and then you’ll know how to go the rest of the way.”

“Yeah…” I felt like it wasn’t my place to interfere.

“Then I’ll give you the train fare,” I heard Kei’s voice say over my head, as he pulled out his wallet. “If it’s Takane, you must be going to Ototsubo, right?”

“Ah, yeah.” Sora-kun nodded.

“He was just stunned, because he finally understood the meaning of the concerto when he saw Yuuki and Sanjo-kun’s performance.”

“Oh?”

“You can talk to Takane about the rest.”

“Yeah.”

After Sora-kun was taken away by Endo-kun, and all the Fujimi members scuttled off to their respective places, Kei and I were asked to join the Tomitas for lunch with the homemade bentos they’d brought. As we ate, I mulled over how to make things up with Kei since I’d offended him.

Normally I would have tried to make up with him through sex… with this kind of situation that would be the most natural and effective way to apologize… but we’re both celibate right now. Maybe I should make an exception? If it were just tonight, that shouldn’t affect me too much, right? The idea gradually became more and more justified in my mind, until I reached the conclusion that it was the only way to go about it. Now then, when should I bring it up?

I listened to the afternoon contestants while sitting next to Kei. There were a few I was pretty sure wouldn’t advance, but for the most part I thought everyone was skilled enough that the judges would have a hard time. Then I started to fret again about hearing the results while waiting for them to be posted… when finally the announcement came. I felt embarrassed to push through the crowd of people in front of the board, so I waited patiently until everybody had cleared out before going to look.

“There it is…”

“Yes. Congratulations.”

“I did it…”

“If you’re a second round qualifier, please pick up the necessary paperwork for participating in the finals before leaving. You may pick them up at the round table in the lobby...”

I searched for Kei’s hand and squeezed it; the hand that grasped mine back leaned into me, and he said, “Go get the paperwork, then give me a call.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I’ll call Mozart cafe to let them know.”

“Thank you. That’s really helpful.”

I went and registered for the finals, received an information packet with a timeline for the day-of, then went to the phone booth. The line I’d waited in was much shorter than after the first round; there were four of us who made it through from the second… that’s one out of six, and counting from the first round, I had beaten out a little over sixty competitors. While I was thinking about that, I dialed the phone. First I called Fukuyama-sensei, but — ugh, it’s busy. The second time I tried calling it went through.

“This is Morimura. I advanced. Thank you very much.” I said in one breath.

《Hmph. If you hadn’t, I’d think the judges’ ears didn’t work. Let’s dive right into Sibelius. Friday, 5pm.》

“Yes sir. Thank you for your help.” Finally, the Sibelius concerto… I’d have to make sure I went over the score very carefully.

Sanjo-san finally answered after about the tenth call, “This is Morimura. I advanced—“

Before I could thank her, she replied,《Sensei wants me to come with you for the Sibelius.》

“Uhh, um, that would be great—“

Once again she interrupted before I could finish,《When did he want us to be there?》

“Umm, Friday at 5pm.”

《OK, see ya.》The phone went dead. It seemed like I woke her up from a nap... maybe she didn’t care about hearing the results?

I mentioned it to Kei. “It’s a lot of pressure to be an accompanist,” He said. “They can’t let themselves drag down the performer. Sanjo-san did a great job.”

“Yeah… that’s true.” And probably why she was tired.

“Then, shall we go somewhere to eat and head home? What are you in the mood to eat?”

When asked, I said, “You.”… Then I quickly coughed and cleared my throat, blushing when I realized I said something so forward. But… “Just for tonight, I want to do something special.”

Kei nodded, his poker face inscrutable even to me, “We can talk about it.” Something in his tone of voice made me think he misunderstood me, but I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Not about the lifting the abstinence, not about the ring… but something was off. I looked up at Kei, whose face was in profile, his lips pursed in a tight line. Kei noticed me looking up at him out of the corner of his eye, then turned to face me. My favorite man, my handsome, beautiful man… his eyebrows drew together, and he frowned, tilting his head slightly, “What’s wrong?”

“I just thought you’d like that…” I answered while looking away from him. The hot arousal I had ignited was getting hotter every minute. Even though he didn’t realize what he was asking me to explain, after thinking about it I finally understood why I’d asked for abstinence.

Sanjo-san had criticized me for playing the female role in our relationship, so I thought I was just following her advice; that there was no way for me to perform at my full potential if I continued to play the part of the ‘woman’ in bed. But that wasn’t actually it. In reality, I was testing myself. Subconsciously, I was afraid of how my role in our relationship would change now that we were married… because if I went according to conventions, wouldn’t that make me Kei’s ‘wife?’ And as a man, how did I accept that role? I wasn’t sure how I felt about it yet. So I had to take a break from everything, to sort out how I felt…

“Let’s talk about it,” I said. “I want to know your opinion.”

The word ‘marriage’ means a union of two people. What am I supposed to do with this love I feel for him, the love welling up inside me, that makes me ache to be in his arms? Can I accept that this is simply the natural form of our love? Or is this the prelude to a relationship where I’m subservient to him, the symbolic meaning of the words ‘husband’ and ‘wife…’ should I worry about that happening, consider refusing it? I needed to think it over, because right now I’m happy, and I don’t want to lose this happiness… Kei, will you talk about it with me?

#fujimi orchestra #BL #BL novel #Akizuki Koh #Nishi Keiko #90s bl #yaoi #light novels #orchestra #classical music

[symphonicscans]

General update for priority of upcoming releases:

- VoH Chapter 4 (at 60 pages it's a whopper!) - Grant My Wish Chapter 2 - Fujimi Orchestra Book 10, Chapter 1

#update #arkposts #fyi

[symphonicscans]

Negai Kanae Tamae (Grant My Wish) - Volume 1, Chapter 1

Grant My Wish  Nishida Higashi BL 2005

This is the first full chapter of the series, which (if you missed the previous post) is a re-setting/edited release of a translation done a long time ago. You can download the chapter here or read on MangaDex.

#BL #classical music #piano #00s manga #nishida higashi #grant my wish #negai kanae tamae #gay #yaoi

[symphonicscans]

Fujimi Orchestra Masterpost

This post will be updated to reflect all the completed books in the series, so it’s easy to find them in one place :) Also, arranged by Part (as there are 7 story arcs in the series)

Part 1 (complete)

Book 1: Cold Front Conductor (content warnings: 18+/rape/non-con)

PDF - ePub - Read Online

Book 2: Wandering Violinist (content warning: 18+/non-con)

PDF - ePub - Read Online

Book 3: Manhattan Sonata (content warning: 18+)

PDF - ePub - Read Online

Book 4: Recital Madness (content warning: 18+)

PDF - ePub - Read Online

——

Part 2 (in progress)

Book 5: Unfinished March (content warning: 18+)

PDF - ePub - Read Online

#fujimi orchestra #gay #BL #BL novel #classical music #light novel #violin #orchestra #yaoi

[symphonicscans]

Encore wa Sex Yori mo Sosoru Koe (Encores are More Exciting than Sex) - Voice 1

Encore wa Sex Yori mo Sosoru Koe (Encores are More Exciting than Sex) Kashima Kotaru BL (18+) 2022 (ongoing) Series Description:  More than the magnificent music, it's your voice that fills the stage... Kane Yukisaka loves the world of opera, a masterpiece of art, with its colorful and enchanting staging -- and he's not afraid to do the lowest of jobs to get closer to it! Working from the fringes of the industry, he persevered until finally becoming an Artist Manager! Akihiko Tsukioka, who's been assigned exclusively to Yukisaka, is a veteran tenor who took the world by storm after his debut. His technique is perfect! But compared to the brilliance of his youth, he seems to have lost something in his sound.

Yukisaka wants him to regain his number one status again, so decides to use his charms to romance him, but... dinner first? Nope, straight to the bedroom! 

The stage is set for a full-fledged opera: a manager who wants to make his charge fall in love, and an opera singer who hates love. Not trying to overextend ourselves (or focus too much on BL...), but this is a very slow-updating BL series by Kashima Kotaru (Yumemiru Vampire, Utskushii Karada). Kotaru-sensei definitely seems to be an opera aficionado! To temper expectations, basically a new chapter comes out once a year... but at least there are two out already! It will probably end up being a one-shot, similar to some of her other works. Download Voice 1 (chapter 1) here or read on MangaDex.

#BL #classical music #opera #singers #beefy bottoms #gay #boys love #scanlation #yaoi #kashima kotaru

[symphonicscans]

Fujimi Orchestra - Flowers for the Anniversary Holiday (Gaiden - Book 9, Chapter 3)

Author: Akizuki Koh Illustrator: Keiko Nishi Content Warning: 18+

Sensei decided to put all the spicy stuff in one place -- this chapter! It’s pretty short, but is basically an extended sex scene... from Kei’s POV :D... and as this is the end of book 9, expect a release of the complete book sometime soon.

You can read this chapter on Google or keep reading below the cut.

Flowers for the Anniversary Holiday (Gaiden)

As soon as we entered the lobby of the restaurant, I noticed his pace stiffen. The valet had snapped himself smartly in half in a deep, respectful bow, and he bowed back — probably with an affectionate smile — even though this was a courtesy given to guests without the expectation of it being returned. When we got into the elevator, his shoulders slumped in relief. 

My Yuuki isn’t very comfortable with these kinds of places. Even though it was just the Imperial Hotel, he acted like a scared cat on a leash; he was probably dreading the tables, imagining them lined with silver knives and forks. For Yuuki it was daunting, since he wasn’t accustomed to the pomp and circumstance of dinner at an upscale hotel, but I had my own reasons for bringing him here. The only way to get him used to this was by exposing him to it… if he didn’t accustom himself to this kind of atmosphere, he wouldn’t be able to enter the social circles of Paris or Vienna, and sooner or later he’ll have to deal with that world. If he refused invitations to dinner parties because he was bad at using knives and forks, he wouldn’t be able to make connections and friends. Little by little, I’d teach him how to handle cocktail parties and other European social events, but first I wanted him to get used to eating Western-style.

We stopped at the entrance of the restaurant. A man in black quickly approached, and Yuuki bowed again; they’re just doing their job, it makes things harder for them if the guest places themself so low.

“Welcome. It’s been a long time since your last visit.” The senior manager, who I knew well, gave me and Yuuki a gentle, polite smile. He led the way, “Will this seat be alright?”

It wasn’t a very good spot…“The table by the window over there looks better.” I could see the ‘Reserved’ placard on the table, but the customer always has the right to express their preference. The manager nodded and took us over, quickly pocketing the placard. I chose the seat for Yuuki that faced away from the other diners, and took the seat next to him; eating face to face in this situation could be intimidating.

A waiter brought us menus. “Is there anything you don’t like?” I asked Yuuki, and he shook his head slightly. There’s no need to be so nervous… “Then, shall we go with the chef’s recommended course? I’d also like to order wine.”

“Certainly, sir.”

I chose this restaurant for our anniversary dinner not only for their excellent food, but also because they have decent waitstaff and sommeliers, and I wanted to subtly show Yuuki the procedures for having dinner in such a setting. I spent a lot of time with the sommelier, asking him about the vintages and regions of each wine, finally deciding on an aperitif and a digestif before letting him go. When I noticed Yuuki’s expression, he was looking at me like I was from another planet. I smiled at him, “For Europeans, eating is one of life’s greatest pleasures, so behind a simple glass of wine there’s a profession. In Paris these days there are even sommeliers specializing in water that have become popular. After all, a formal dinner can last for three or four hours. But the level of effort for a meal varies a lot… on the opposite side of the spectrum, there’s a growing trend of just stuffing yourself with whatever — but that’s more from Americans that make a lot of money on fast food, and Japanese businessmen who want to save time. Eating out of convenience should be…well, considered a last resort.” The waiter brought out the aperitif; since we were celebrating, of course I’d selected champagne. I picked up the glass and Yuuki followed suit. “To the anniversary of our meeting, cheers.” 

Yuuki gave me a rather complicated expression and smiled, “A year ago all my troubles started, but all’s well that ends well, I guess.” 

I accepted his sarcastic tone with a smile. Cheers. The thin glasses clinked against each other and we drank up; the champagne was well chilled, and the taste was almost exactly what I had expected. Then with the hors d’oeuvres that arrived perfectly on time, we casually continued our conversation from earlier; I was afraid that if we talked about ourselves, Yuuki would become more and more embarrassed. My dearest boyfriend whom I love more than heaven and earth is a shy, self-conscious person; he seems to feel quite cautious even just walking close beside me.

“From what I’ve seen, they take their food very seriously, just like their orchestras. If you gave everyone a box lunch and demanded they finish it in thirty minutes before going back to work, they’d go on strike.”

“Is everything in their life so luxurious?” he said.

It seems I was right to offer him a glass of champagne to help him loosen up. “Well, their sense of time and how they use it is 180º different from ours. They’re good at taking time for the little things in life.” 

I looked lovingly at Yuuki as he remained on the conversation topic we’d finally landed on, the only sense of disquiet in his posture coming from his arm resting on the table. His hair, which is slightly lighter than jet-black and cut so that it covers his forehead, is as silky and soft as the rest of him. His round-rimmed glasses serve a practical use, but give his small, wedge-shaped face a serious air. He’s always concerned about looking ‘feminine,’ but I felt that his features simply reflected his sensitive personality. His eyes and nose are not so much delicate as they are gentle, and his smile is wonderful. What I particularly like are his bright, double-lidded eyes. Once I had asked him why his eyes were so big, and he’d said, ‘I have trouble seeing, so I guess they’re bigger to make up for that.’ I would have preferred him to give a more flirtatious answer — since we had been chatting in bed — but in any case, I do love his eyes, which are decidedly more eloquent than his mouth. But if you ask me if I find his eyes or lips more attractive, I’m at a loss. His lips are not indecently plump, but neither are they thin. Both now and when they were forbidden for me to touch, they always lure me in with the same gravitational pull. Their beautiful shape and natural color that needs no rouge is so seductive, it makes me believe they exist only to receive kisses.

Oh no… now I’m thinking about how they feel…

I also like his nose, which doesn’t have a high bridge, but is straight and has a nice shape. And his chin, the curve of his cheek, his determined eyebrows… I love everything about his face. I think he’s beautiful, even his annoyed look when I tell him that. The only reason I made him dress up as a woman that one time was because I knew he’d never dance in the female role with his regular appearance in front of everyone at Fujimi. The only word I can think of to describe him is ‘beautiful,’ which may be a lack of vocabulary on my part, but his face and body are altogether — STOP!

We’re eating. We’re eating in public. And also, these pants are thin…

Yuuki’s wearing a cheap gray suit that he bought for an interview. The color doesn’t suit him… for his face, a gray suit would need to be lighter, and a different shade… something with a hint of violet, or even perhaps a tea-brown. I would buy him a few suits in a heartbeat if he would let himself accept them. But I’m sure he’d feel bad and add it to the debt that he owes me — which of course doesn’t exist. Or maybe it would make him feel ashamed, since as a musician he has to spend his money on instruments, tickets and sheet music rather than clothes… I don’t care that he doesn’t spend money on clothes, it’s just that I want to enjoy his outward beauty when we go on the occasional date like this. But maybe it’s for the best; I’m afraid that if he dressed the way I’d like, he’d attract attention and that would only give me concern. My Yuuki is too attractive to show off.

A shadow of self-deprecation suddenly fell across Yuuki’s adorable profile, and he sighed. “I wish I knew how to live like that. Sometimes I get sick of feeling like I have so little time. Don’t you think? 24 hours seems shorter than it used to,” he grumbled as he put his knife into a fish entree that was actually less firm than expected. He scooped it up into the fork and placed it gently in his mouth, giving me an approving look. He chewed and swallowed, then happily took a second bite. Heh… it’s nice how even his complaining isn’t hurtful or malicious.

“I think it’s because you have so many things you want to do,” I said.

“Well, yeah. I guess you could say I’m satisfied,” instead of a nonchalant shrug he frowned, then it unwound into a smirk, “But maybe it’s like that for everyone.” 

I want to provide him the best possible environment to flourish, but he’s told me it would hurt his pride. If he really wants to make a living as a musician, he doesn’t have time to waste on some ‘job’ that only pays the bills. This man, who has such a serious outlook on life, is stubborn to a fault and won’t listen to my advice. People who just regard music as some kind of pastime adhere to the common-sense aphorism of ‘he who doesn’t work, doesn’t eat’ — but if you choose the path of music, that becomes an obstacle, you know?

“Speaking of that, do you know the French ending to the story of the ‘Ant and the Grasshopper?’”

“No?” Yuuki cocked his head to the side doubtfully, and for a moment I was distracted by the charming gesture. “Is it different? The version of the story I know is where the ant works hard all summer, while all the grasshopper does is sing. Then in the winter he has nothing to eat, so he goes begging at the ant’s house… isn’t that how it goes?”

“Yes, that’s how it is in Japan. And the Japanese ending is, when the ant asks the grasshopper what he did in the summer and he replies that he sang, the ant coldly replies, ‘Then why don’t you sing in the winter too?’ and refuses to help. It only acknowledges the hard work of the ant. But the French interpretation is a bit different.”

“Oh… so what is it?”

“When the grasshopper answers that he was singing, the ant gladly welcomes the grasshopper into his house, because the song he’d devoted all summer to learning would relieve the ant’s tedious winter boredom.”

“Wow… how interesting. They really are a culture devoted to art. So it’s saying that even if one didn’t have any food stored up, they could still live through their other skills.” 

Something I enjoy about conversing with Yuuki is the way he takes in what I say and responds smartly, like so…

“But, if his singing is bad… the grasshopper would probably end up as food for the ant.” 

I’d never have thought of that. “That’s a good point… so the ant won’t lose either way. It seems French ants are more astute.”

Yuuki laughed merrily at my response, and continued to giggle….after drinking a bit, the emotions Yuuki normally suppresses start to get out of control. Depending on his mood, he would either cry from sadness or laughter — tonight he’s laughing, which means he’s in good spirits and enjoying the dinner. I wanted to make him laugh more, so I switched the topic of conversation to the truffles that were on my plate.

“These truffles are a delicacy, even more expensive than matsutake mushrooms. Do you know how truffles are found?”

“Ah, ahaha, I-I’ve heard of it,” He answered, trying to stop giggling with a swig of wine. “Don’t they have pigs look for them?”

“Indeed,” I nodded with mock seriousness. “So basically something that’s such a delicacy for the tables of princes and lords comes from nothing but humans taking advantage of pigs.”

“Pfft—“

“Marie Antoinette surely ate them, but she probably had no idea they’d touched a pig’s nose.”

“Pfft—!”

“Well, if she did know, it probably bothered her that she and a pig shared the same taste in food.” His laughter was infectious, “You could say she… ate like a pig.” I pressed on, “I told this story once before at a dinner in Vienna, except I used Louis XVI instead of Marie Antoinette.”

“H-huh? Hahahah…”

“The lady next to me laughed so hard her dentures fell out…”

“O-oh really?”

“…because the guest of honor looked exactly like Louis XVI…”

“Pshhh—!”

“…And he definitely ate like a pig.”

“Eh?”

“He was the town’s Mayor.”

“Pshh~!! Hsshshhhhhh~~~!”

“And then the observation spread up and down the table, I could see people whispering about it.”

“P-please… stop…”

I ignored his shuddered pleas, “About two weeks after that I was invited to another dinner, and the lady next to me brought it up, asking if the mayor knew how to find truffles.”

“Hahahah~~★XD#!”

I happily watched Yuuki agonize, trying to stifle his laughter out of consideration for the other restaurant guests. Oh Yuuki… you’re so wonderful. How are you so… so cute?

The waiter brought a new dish, saving Yuuki’s sides from splitting. He took off his glasses to wipe away the tears of laughter, and the gesture reminded me of a similar expression: when I pleasure him, he cries out… every jerk of his head causes a few tears to leak from his tightly shut eyes.

And no matter how many times I embrace him, I feel the same thrill… he’s the only one that stirs within me that sweet affection, bordering on heartache, that makes me want to cry with happiness. One year ago today we met, and I fell in love with him on the spot. Not only did he capture my heart as a musician and violinist, he imprisoned all of me with his looks and noble spirit. And now my eternal love is here beside me, gracefully using the knife and fork he claimed to be bad with, and enjoying the meal I invited him to. And after dinner… making love in a hotel room worthy of our anniversary. Ah… what bliss… really… this night has been a succession of truly enchanting moments. Who should I thank for such happiness?

“From our first meeting, I honestly never imagined we’d be here celebrating our anniversary like this.”

Yes, indeed. Thinking back, the time I’d spent troubled by the hot, one-sided love burning in my chest was actually only three months. But it felt like a lifetime’s worth of confusion, anguish, suspense, and impatience. I fell in love with him the moment we met, and then the only thing on my mind was what strategy I should take to get closer to him… and then the misinformation I got excited me so much that I accidentally became the worst thing possible, a rapist.

“Really… to think it’s already been a year…”

I had entered that conference room with nothing but excitement to meet my violinist, unaware of the agonizing months that lay ahead of me. What kind of person was he? Will I be able to build a good relationship with him, the person who I’ve decided will be the cornerstone of my orchestra? No, I must make it happen. How can I make a good first impression? The whole day that was all I could think about. 

“I was so nervous, I didn’t even consider that I might hit my head on the doorway.”

“It was a pretty loud ‘bang,’ huh? It must have hurt.” His tone was lightly teasing, without malice. But back when that happened, the first thing he did was show me a look of pity.

“It made me see stars, to be sure.” But even with stars in my eyes I was able to spot him, sitting in the Concertmaster seat. I knew if my destined violinist was there, that would be their position. That pitying look was burned into my retinas the moment I entered the room, and it unnerved me terribly. I’d accidentally turned what should have been a dashing first appearance into a gag — and then I saw that he was also completely my type.

“You were so pompous and had such a big attitude…”

I wanted to sell myself as a conductor, so I had to force myself to act dignified. “For the first time in my life I was incredibly nervous. The night before I couldn’t sleep, wondering what kind of person had such a tone that they could make me fall in love with them. And well, I was prepared to accept whatever violinist I got: somebody middle-aged or older, even a woman.”

“Even a woman?”

“Yeah. I don’t discriminate between men and women except in my private life.”

“Really?”

“Really. But fortunately, the violinist I was searching for—” Yuuki’s eyes scolded me with an expression that said ‘don’t go there in public.’

“You pissed me off from the very beginning… tall, handsome, confident, and a genius to boot.” 

I smiled, “I had a theory about you after that. Although you followed my conducting perfectly, your attitude was cold. You seemed acutely aware of me, but it was as though you saw me as a rival or something.”

“…that was stupid of me!”

“You were the first person who dared to openly challenge me.”

“Challenge you?… I was just jealous without being aware of it.”

“That was your subconscious sense of pride coming through. Anyway, I fell in love with you twice — and then was told you were also gay.”

“…which was nonsense.”

“I wondered what kind of man your lover was, perhaps a musician, or a conductor like myself, and so on... I thought maybe that’s why you saw me as an enemy — but I decided I would snatch you away from him.”

“That was a… huge misunderstanding…” Yuuki murmured.

I leaned towards him, “They say love is blind.” I said in a suggestive whisper, and his profile blushed reproachfully. “Let’s continue this conversation in the room.”

“Yeah.” After so many consecutive glasses of wine, Yuuki’s eyes had warmed. He caught my eye and smiled, “I think I drank a little too much.”

“Is the room spinning?”

“Not yet… I’m fine.”

I sobered him up with some fruit for dessert and changed our after-dinner digestif to coffee. When we left, the manager said ‘Please come again’ to which Yuuki replied, ‘Thank you.’

“Everything was delicious.”

“Thank you very much.” Because Yuuki’s smile was so earnest, even the manager’s smile was genuine. 

Yuuki doesn’t hide his feelings. No, he might not even know how to… but maybe that’s because he never needed to. Yuuki’s never had to put on a poker face, has he? Ahh… to me such vulnerability seems unbelievable, but it’s a testament to how happy his childhood was, and I admire his innocence. The fact that he expresses his heart honestly, without scheming or malicious intent redeems me.

We took the elevator down, but when Yuuki realized we didn’t go all the way to the lobby, he looked up at me with a puzzled expression.

“Actually, I booked a room. Sometimes it’s nice to enjoy a view of the city center at night.” Suddenly Yuuki glanced around sheepishly and looked at the ground, ears turning red. I put my arm around Yuuki’s shoulders and guided him forward; I knew he wasn’t unhappy about this, but he was concerned because it felt very public. “It’s against the rules, but I made the reservation in my name only. There’s no way to check and see that you’re also staying with me.” Yuuki listened to my explanation silently and followed my nudges.

The room was a suite with a separate living area and bedroom, set up as a sort of temporary apartment for wealthy travelers. I left Yuuki on the sofa in the living room and checked to make sure the bed was a double, then returned to him. I placed a hand on Yuuki’s slender shoulder, which was a little stiffer than it had been before dinner. I put my mouth to his ear and whispered, “One year ago today I met you and fell in love at first sight. It was the day a unique light came into my life, so I wanted to make this anniversary something that would be unforgettable.”

Yuuki closed his eyes, which had been fixed straight ahead. The stiffness in his shoulders relaxed a little. I put my hand on the back of the sofa and pressed my lips to Yuuki’s soft mouth, pushed my tongue through the crevice between them, which let down their guard in response. I probed his mouth that still tasted of coffee, sucking on his tongue as he responded with a gentle thrust. The arm he wrapped around my neck was evidence that Yuuki was also turned on. As I continued to kiss him deeply and passionately, I ran a questing hand over his chest through his shirt. I explored the lovely bud that poked out, pinched and squeezed it with my fingertips. From that, Yuuki’s slender body arched, and when I stole a glance at his crotch I saw that it was bulging with the same desire as mine.

“Let’s take a bath,” I whispered, undoing the tie that was squeezing Yuuki’s slender neck and unbuttoning his shirt.

“I-I can do it…” he protested, so I removed my hand that had gone to undo his pants and quickly took off my own clothes. He hesitated, then removed his jacket, shirt and tie, and disappeared his briefs and socks.

When he was naked as I was, I led Yuuki into the bathroom. I was pleased with myself that I’d managed to wait this long… while I ran the faucet in the marble bathtub, I devoured Yuuki’s lips and caressed his soft skin. On the pretext of washing, I fingered Yuuki’s ass, probing into the deepest part of him; his increasing gasps of pleasure softly echoed in my ears thanks to the steamy bathroom acoustics. His beautiful skin was fair, but different from the whiteness of a woman, and had a slight warm glow as if backlit. As he trembled in my arms, I made love bites on his smooth shoulders, the soft skin under his armpits, and on his chest where the nipples were hard and blushing… claiming it all as my own.

“Ah—Kei, Kei…” he called to me, his voice hitching. His voice was a mellow tenor, and its unique timbre directly charged my desire. 

Oh…if there were some way for him to have this luster in the tone of his violin — no, it can’t, it would have to be for my ears only, otherwise I would go crazy with jealousy and unfounded suspicions.But… his violin tone is fine, resolute and pure, too much so. Right now it’s too delicate, and must be further refined into a form that is attractive to everyone. An exquisite piece of glass art leaves the viewer breathless because it reveals the artist’s commitment to their craft. Not because glass is fragile, but because the artist has the understanding of the material and the skill and discipline of technique to manipulate it freely… people sigh in admiration at their mastery, and they love to admire it because the creator put everything they had into making it. A work of art has value because the artist devotes themselves entirely to it — their skills, desires, entire personality — which is the foundation and source of their inspiration. Therefore, if a work of art is created only through skill, it’s nothing but the work of a skilled craftsman.

“K-Kei… ah! Ahh….ah…hnngh—!” 

I thrust my index finger in, then added the middle, loosening him up with my somewhat rough fingering. Then I replaced them with myself and plunged inside him with one go, in and out…

“Ahhh!”

He froze for a second and looked back at me, proof that I had broken his brain with desire as intended. Even as he dug his nails into my shoulder, trying to regain control, he was so eager for me to pleasure him that he rhythmically bucked his hips, moaning and gasping… it was like we’d been at foreplay for hours. He suddenly had a glimpse of reason and blushed with embarrassment, but still intoxicated he sought a kiss, reinforcing my complete power over him. But by submitting selflessly to me, he also controls and teases me with his lust…

“K-Kei…?”

“Not yet, just a little more.”

“O-oh…ah…s-stop—“ 

Please let me enjoy your begging a little longer, let me listen to the desperation in your voice… while indulging in this little love game with Yuuki, I had to immediately focus on something else, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back.

Yes… a work can be admired for the technique behind it, but if it doesn’t evoke sympathy, jealousy, or envy for the person who created it, then it’s merely well-crafted. And at this point, Yuuki’s violin is just that. He’s certainly putting in enough effort, but he hasn’t poured enough of his soul into it, and that’s essential for it to become art… it’s the one thing that doesn’t come through to the listener. His devotion to music, his passionate longing for the ideal sound, and his joy — like an orgasm — that he feels when he plays things for himself is still locked away inside his heart. He limits his emotions to himself and has no way of expressing them to others. I wish I could put the unconscious sound he had while playing on the riverbank, on the stage… but to show that kind of narcissism in front of others is difficult for Yuuki, who is terribly self-conscious. Even taking off his shirt in public is hard for him.

“Turn around, raise your hips.” I whispered, and Yuuki obeyed, his eyes expectant with the knowledge of what would happen next. He was already on the verge of his second climax, so when I thrust my cock inside him he came on top of me. 

“Ahh—!” Yuuki let out a high pitched cry and grabbed my waist when I subconsciously pulled back. I grabbed him and thrust upward, and the sensation of slowly penetrating his warm softness inside made the blood rush to my cock. I gave my brain the task of thinking again to suppress my desire to finish too soon; we can’t have me coming before you, right? 

So…ah…what was I thinking about? That’s right… if his passion for music could be directly expressed through his sound, the audience would be able to share in the joy of his thoughts and feelings… the climax he feels would become theirs, and then he would experience the happiness of being praised with a chorus of ‘bravo!’ Though as a possessive lover, I really wouldn’t advise him to bare everything… and even if I say it as an aspiring artist myself, there’s no guarantee he’d be able to do it. It’s asking a shy person like him to act opposite of his nature, to make his introverted personality flip.

“Is it good? Do you feel it, Yuuki?” He was leaning into me, resting his head on my shoulder, and while he couldn’t help moaning, it still felt like somewhere he was holding back. “Use your hips… yes, more.” More is the key. Feel more. Indulge yourself completely. “Are you almost there? What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

“Ah…ahh…K-Kei… you’re such… a tease…”

“I’m not a tease. I just want to do what you want, to make you feel good. Now tell me… what do you want me to do?” 

After pushing him again and again, he finally told me in a hesitant, timid whisper: “I… want you to make me cum… with your hand.”

There we go. With my left hand I kept fondling his pink, erect nipple, and with the other I took Yuuki in hand, which I had deliberately avoided doing until this point. After only a gentle squeeze his back arched, his chest covered with beads of sweat, and I felt his walls around my cock tighten. I had to focus to overcome the urge to let myself go as well. Ugh…uff…not yet… not yet…

“Ah…d-don’t… tease me more, Kei—“ Yuuki moaned and wrapped his arms around my neck, clinging to me. I began to thrust harder.

In Yuuki’s mind, he’s always watching himself objectively, and his stubborn self-consciousness puts a brake on his desires, the part that would give over to pleasure. No matter how many times we have sex, Yuuki’s resistance — stemming from some sense of shame buried deep down — is something that arouses my desire for conquest. But at the same time, I can’t help feeling a bit frustrated. So, while I wait until he reaches the moment where he completely loses himself to pleasure, I must continue to patiently — and painfully — test my own limits. Someday I want him to realize that the same charm that makes my love boil over exists, whether he shows me his naked desire or shyly lets me manipulate his body. I know it bothers him to express himself so shamelessly, but in my opinion neither music nor sex can truly be experienced without completely immersing yourself in it…

I felt him tighten around me in spasms, and my self-control has its limit…apparently I’ve reached it.

“Y-Yuuki, I’m coming—“ Even though I was supposed to be the conqueror, it felt like I was the one that was conquered. With perverse pleasure, I released the desire I’d been holding back for so long.

“I’m coming, Kei! Ahhh—“ Almost at the same time, I felt Yuuki’s hot seed spurt into my hand and his body spasm. He held his breath and squeezed me one final time, gasping and moaning at a presto tempo, then relaxed and went limp. “Kei…” he said, his voice sultry. “I thought… I was gonna die…”

I kissed Yuuki’s hair, wet with steam and sweat. His heartbeat was still racing, and I gently hugged him. “I love you.”

“I… love you too…”

“Ahh, don’t fall asleep yet. I’ll move you to the bed. There we go.” As I stood and dried him off with a bath towel, I happily counted the hickeys that had bloomed here and there on his reddened skin, the proof that he belonged to me, seals that ensured this beautiful body was mine alone. I quickly put a bathrobe on and picked Yuuki up, as he could barely stand.

“Did you put that on without drying off? You’ll make the robe all wet,” he said, like a scolding mother. 

Somehow that elicited a warm, fuzzy feeling in me. I replied, “I don’t need to wear it in bed.”

Instead of blushing, Yuuki put his hand on my cheek, “I want to kiss you…”

He looked into my eyes as he said it, with a tone that was natural without a hint of shyness — and extremely sexy. What…oh… what a lovely thing he is… I kissed him as he wished and carried him to the bedroom, where the coolness of the starched sheets felt comfortable.

“I was going to let you off for the rest of the night, but it looks like we ended up on my schedule anyway.” Yuuki’s body trembled as I whispered into his ear.

“That’s the way it always goes… right?” he retorted, but the way he said it showed he was wanting it, too. The way Yuuki phrases things can be more coquettish and devilishly passionate than anyone else I’ve slept with, and I love both sides… which is why I like to enjoy multiple rounds with him. There’s the side that acts shy and timid, but the other is greedy and thirsty for me. So I never get tired of him or his many expressions… from ascetic to whore, I want to taste every aspect of him, to the point that sometimes I forget to hold back and end up pushing him to his limits. Even though I know that… I can’t help it. I’m sorry.

After his fourth climax I watched with satisfaction as Yuuki almost fainted into sleep, with shallow, labored breathing like a fish washed up on the shore.

Yes… the only time he reveals his true self is in my arms. I love that, it pleases me… but that has no bearing on us becoming first-rate musicians. Well, it does have something to do with it, but… right now he’s only truly free in my embrace, only as my lover. And ideally a musician must act as lover to the entire audience. I know exactly how that enchanting quality can be added to Yuuki’s tone… I do… but…

I’ve known from the moment we met that my possessiveness was as strong as my desire for self-expression; I might have foolishly dug my own grave in that respect, thanks to my jealousy. Although I want Yuuki to receive the recognition he deserves from audiences, I really don’t want to expose him to too many people. No — but I already made up my mind about that. We’re both aiming to become full-fledged musicians, which necessitates participating in competitions and recitals. And now that we’ve set that in motion, there’s no path but forward, so in order for Yuuki to succeed… I have no choice but to advise him to open himself up, to not express himself only to me.

Yes, that’s right. There’s no doubt in my mind. I won’t allow his potential to be squandered for my own selfish reasons. But… well. I’m sure when I advise him to do that, he’ll probably nod his head earnestly… and he will make an effort, but his natural disposition will not change so easily. It’s entirely because of his character that, despite having enough natural skill to make it into the M-Kyo Symphony, he settles for acting as the concertmaster of an amateur orchestra that’s not even semi-professional. He calls it shyness or indecision, but fundamentally what keeps him stuck in this position is his inability to expose his inner desire and just ‘go for it.’ It will probably take something earth-shattering to break him free of the emotional shackles that hold him back from what he truly desires. He’s lived his entire life giving up on what he wants, so his outlook on life would need to shift completely.

But perhaps more importantly… half the reason he doesn’t want to do that is because of pride. Although he’s never said it out loud, I suspect he’s even more of a perfectionist than I am, even more prideful, and that’s why he’s unwilling to put himself out there. The reason he chose the path he did was because he thought denying himself would be preferable to suffering the wounded pride of defeat… That’s not just timidity, it’s cowardly, flying a white flag before the fight begins. As far as I can tell, this is his only shortcoming.

Then again, if that were to change, it would destroy Yuuki Morimura’s strengths… if you replaced his pure honesty with snobbish greed and arrogance, changed his clear mind free of ego for a heart full of worldly selfishness… to allow his tone to be corrupted by vulgar ambition… I would never be able to forgive myself if that happened. If the soul of Yuuki Morimura, that he’s kept pure and wholesome, was dragged into the sludge of worldliness for the sake of musical success, if his original purity was lost or spoiled… then I would lose my heart’s fount of healing —  and Yuuki would lose himself. 

But I want to believe that even covered in mud he would remain spotless… yes, that’s the kind of person my Yuuki is. That’s why I asked him to make the leap into the world of professional music… oh, yes… because I wanted him to walk side by side with me through life… I decided on his ‘ambition’ with those words. Ah… that’s it… driven by a desire to be with me, he chose to do what he thought was impossible. For my sake… I hope he will have the courage to walk with me… and that Yuuki’s feelings for me will never change.  I hope that I will never lead him astray, I never want to make a single misstep guiding him.

Now he’s sleeping with a peaceful expression on his exhausted face. With sheer force of will I resisted the tempting impulse that rose up inside me, and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. To satisfy my love for him, my beloved, and above all for the sake of his complete trust in me, I’ll play the part of omnipotent genius. I’ll act like a man of divine insight and forethought.

This is my oath as Kei Tounoin: I won’t allow myself to make the smallest mistake. Now that I have the man I was looking for, it’s the least I can do, a lifetime courtesy for the person who chose to love me despite the world’s judgment. I must repay him for it. In my hands I will make his talent blossom and flourish… and I will make him happy. For that reason, I won’t hesitate to act as if I were a child prodigy, basking in the grace of the muse. I’m not afraid to put all my energy into playing a naturally confident man, knowing nothing of doubts or worries. I will never again show my weakness in front of you. 

Near dawn I had a nightmare, but I immediately blocked it from my mind.

#fujimi orchestra #yaoi #BL #light novel #bl light novel #Akizuki Koh #classical music #Keiko Nishi #gay

[symphonicscans]

No question, I just discovered this account wanted to say thank you so much for your work on Boku no Giovanni and the Fujimi Orchestra novels! I also love works with classical music themes and have always wanted to read these series, and for so long had no idea that these works were translated and scanned, but got so excited finding your page and have since had a wonderful time reading them!

Thank you so much for your work! <3

So glad you're enjoying them! Wish there was more of BnG already, but we must continue to be patient 😭 We won't run out of Fujimi Orchestra anytime soon, though 😅

#arkposts #answers

[symphonicscans]

Negai Kanae Tamae (Grant My Wish) - Prologue

Grant My Wish Nishida Higashi BL 2005 Series Description: Kinukawa Yuusuke is a second-class pianist who earns a living by playing in small clubs. Things become complicated when Fukami, a yakuza boss with mesmerizing looks, becomes a regular at Yuusuke's piano bar. As Fukami's appreciation for Yuusuke's piano playing grows, so do Yuusuke's feelings for him. Although Yuusuke knows he shouldn't be attracted to such a dangerous man, he finds himself unable to stop thinking about Fukami. 

This is technically a re-release of a series that was scanlated a long time ago, by one person who was a big fan of the series (Volyund - LiveJournal here, seems to be abandoned though). There were a lot of formatting issues and rough translation, so basically we’re releasing the series with editing for readability. There are three volumes and a couple drama CDs for it (!) and it’s a fairly well-received series. Nishida has another series, Tenshi no Uta, which also has a pianist as a protagonist and was scanlated by The Moon in A Box scans.  This series will probably be released when there’s downtime between translations, since the translation for it has already been done. The Prologue to Vol. 1 can be found here or can be read on MangaDex.

#BL #classical music #piano #yaoi #Grant My Wish #Nishida Higashi #scanlation #00s manga

[symphonicscans]

Fujimi Orchestra - Summer Storm (Book 9, Chapter 2)

Author: Akizuki Koh Illustrator: Keiko Nishi Content Warning: 18+

Happy new year! This is the last chapter of the main story in this book, the next chapter is a gaiden (from Kei's perspective again :D!). You can read on Google here or continue reading under the cut.

It’s August seventh, a Monday. I’ve been a mess since this morning. Today is the third round of the Conducting section of the Tokyo International Music Competition, and I’ve been waiting with baited breath for the announcement of the results — which should have been made by now. I felt like there was a storm brewing in my chest. In the lobby of the competition hall, the contestants and their relatives or friends had gathered in groups scattered about, chatting with each other quietly or standing silent with their heads down. Next to me was Kei Tounoin, who was one of the eleven participants in this round. Under his breath he was humming a passage from the Brahms symphony he’d just conducted. But none of that mattered, because the only thing I could think of was Iida-san’s voice whispering ‘He might have failed’ in my ear... Ahh, Kei! Please let him advance! Tomorrow’s his 24th birthday!

My name is Yuuki Morimura. I’m 24 years old and act as concertmaster for an amateur ensemble called the Fujimi Civic Symphony Orchestra (a.k.a Fujimi), while at the same time attempting to compete in the Nippon International Violin Competition, with the aim of becoming a professional violinist. 

Kei Tounoin is not only the permanent conductor of our Fujimi, he’s also the assistant conductor of the M-Kyo Symphony Orchestra. He’s a maestro with a promising future ahead of him — and also my dearest lover. I believe in Kei’s talent, and I think he’s a prodigious musician who will follow in the footsteps of the other great masters of the baton that have stormed through the centuries, to eventually become a champion of the 21st century classical music world. 

Kei’s commanding performance on the competition stage today was outstanding, clearly surpassing the other contestants. The pieces selected for the program were the Countess’ recitative and aria from Mozart’s The Marriage of Fígaro, Brahms’ Symphony No. 1 and an excerpt from Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 2.

Kei had conducted the three different genres of classical music to absolute perfection— opera, symphony, and concerto — with their respective differences in orchestration and requisite technique, in only a few hours of rehearsal time with an unfamiliar orchestra. After recalling how his performance sounded, and even accounting for my extremely large bias of love and desire for Kei to win, I felt confident that he would make it past this round.

But… Iida-san said ‘he might have failed…’

Hiroshi Iida-san is a member of Fujimi, but is also a cellist in the M-Kyo Symphony, so he’s a professional musician. Did he pick up on something in Kei’s performance that fell short of what he’d need to qualify for the finals…? I couldn’t agree with what he’d said. But then Iida-san is a far better musician than me, with a better ear and the experience of working with many world-famous maestros in the M-Kyo… so his opinion can’t be completely off-base.

So that’s why waiting for the result to be announced is so intolerably anxiety-inducing. What if Kei really did fail? What should I do then…? He’s absolutely adored by all the members of Fujimi, and the M-Kyo has high expectations for him too. Even I took it for granted that Kei would win the competition, I’d told him as much. He’s a man of exceptional talent, confident and proud. His pride is something we ordinary people couldn’t hope to imitate; you could even say it’s almost synonymous with Kei Tounoin’s identity.

He said that he was using the domestic Tokyo International Competition as a warm-up before taking on the Besançon Conducting Competition, which was his main target. So it seems like Kei himself believed he could win, or at least place in the top for sure. What would Kei do if he didn’t make it? What would happen to his self-esteem?

Of course, the Tokyo Music Competition isn’t easy. It’s not as well-known as Besançon — a name that even amateurs recognize — but the jury is made up of prominent names in classical music, and draws participants from all over the world. To qualify for the first round, the initial 300 applicants are whittled down to 30 in the screening stage by resume and video entries. Then comes the first preliminary round, where those 30 applicants are reduced to 20. But there's still a long way to go before the finals: in the second round, even more of the 20 are eliminated.

This year eleven people made it to the third and final preliminary round. By the time they get there, they’ve already been carefully selected and are the best of the best amongst young talent, yet probably half of them will be eliminated after this round. In the end, only a handful of the 286 applicants from around the world (if this year’s information is accurate) will be in the finals, and the odds of getting there are like 50 to 1; about one out of every 26 people make it to that point. From this perspective, Kei has already done a remarkable job. After all, he dropped out of university and hasn’t studied with a specific teacher since then… he’s almost self-taught. And this is his first time entering a competition. Given the circumstances, it’s rather miraculous that he’s made it this far. 

Besides that, this competition is based on talent in conducting, one of the most highly specialized positions in the classical music world. It’s a competition amongst the elite, who must be exceptionally smart and sensitive, and who are on a completely different level from ordinary instrumentalists like us. Conducting is a glamorous and high-profile position, but at the same time it’s frequently misunderstood. On the concert stage, the conductor is the ‘star of the show,’ acting as the point of contact between the musicians and the audience. They’re the last to appear after the orchestra has finished their pre-concert business, and are greeted with enthusiastic applause by the audience. The conductor’s name is usually featured prominently on posters and program flyers as the most important figure in the concert. However, if you asked all those applauding audience members what a conductor does, probably 70% of them would be puzzled or hesitant to answer. At best you might get something like, ‘They’re kind of like a metronome, right?’ or ‘Aren’t they the person who leads orchestra rehearsals?’

Although the average concertgoer doesn’t know much about their role, they applaud for them regardless as part of the concert ritual. But the conductor is an important musician in their own right, since their job is to make sure the orchestra performs to the best of their ability. The conductor must bring together a group composed of dozens of individuals, providing direction and guidance based on their own sense of musicality. Conversely, the conductor is crucial for the orchestra to properly render a piece of music into a coherent performance.

Therefore, to be a conductor means you have to have a very highly trained skill set. They must be able to interpret a score, which contains all the parts for the entire work laid out on 20 or so staves per page, and decipher how the piece should sound from that. And then if something happens, like one of the three horns sounds off, the conductor also must have an acute ear to hear which one did it (for example, identifying the second horn being out of tune). Or if a violist is struggling to produce the sound they want, they have to know the instrument well enough to give advice on what to fix. The interpretation of a piece also has to be in-depth enough to convince the musicians, and if necessary give them background information on it. In addition to all that, they have to have the energy and conviction to lead a lot of people, and leadership skills (or maybe natural charm) to accomplish their goal. Without all of these qualities, no matter how much knowledge or skill you possess, it will be for nothing. But above all, they must have a strong passion for music and a keen sensitivity. 

On the surface it seems like anybody could play the part of conductor; all they have to do is wave the baton and count up to six. When I was in grade school, the person conducting the instrumental club group was either someone who wasn’t good at playing their instrument or someone who didn’t like practicing. The attitude was ‘Let them wave the stick’ since they can’t do anything else. The club teacher would do the actual instruction, so the conductor was nothing but a stand-in.

But a real conductor knows more about the music than any of the musicians, and is, in a sense, the most elite of them all. And out of these young elites, those who possess all the right skills are the ones competing alongside Kei… yet probably half of them failed in today’s round, and the other half will move forward to the finals. Winning the finals means making a debut as a full-fledged conductor. So — even if Kei doesn’t make it past the third round, he has nothing to be ashamed of. 

He’s probably never lost something he thought he could win… he passed the entrance exam to the University of the Arts, then quit of his own volition. I haven’t heard about his experience while studying abroad, but he became a member of the M-Kyo Symphony right after coming back to Japan — not to say he didn’t have some ups and downs — but now, only a year and a half after joining the orchestra, he’s been asked to conduct radio programs. He also replaced Maestro Bock in Kobe when he suddenly fell ill while on tour and gave a reasonably successful performance. Considering how sudden the substitution was, how young Kei is, and the number of occasions he’s had to perform on stage, it actually was a pretty excellent debut. 

You could say Kei’s never experienced a setback in his life… it’s always been smooth sailing. I bet he’s never been in a position where all he could do was grind his teeth in frustration over the obstacle in front of him. This time, however, there’s a lot of outside pressure on him; ’Tounoin-san is sure to at least place in the competition’ was everyone’s optimistic attitude. Of course, if that was the only problem it would be okay, but the bigger issue is Kei himself: he has a similar sense of pride going into this competition. Even now, he seems certain that he’ll make it to the finals. Naturally no one enters a competition intent on losing, but in Kei’s case it feels more like he’s afraid of failing. 

More than that, I have a bad feeling of what would happen if he did fail, mostly because of how strange he’s acted ever since he decided to enter the competition. Since he’s a taciturn man his poker face hasn’t revealed anything in the slightest, but his state of mind has made it hard for him to sleep. It’s also become a habit for him to sleep with his arms wrapped around me — not in a sexy way, but like an anxious child who can’t sleep without a blanket or a stuffed animal… I don’t know if it’s entirely due to the pressure of the competition, but I’m sure that has a lot to do with it. I think it’s also because of Kei’s personality, not so much the pressure everyone’s put on him to win. Rather, it’s his unyielding ego that won’t let him accept failure…

So if Kei, who’s decided he’ll ‘definitely win’ and spared no effort to do so, fails to advance… even though he’s gotten all the way to the third round… I’m worried how he’ll accept ‘defeat’— or if he’ll even be able to. Kei is a strong man, I know that. But there are two kinds of strength: that of iron and that of bamboo. Iron doesn’t falter up to a point, at which it snaps the minute its limit is exceeded. Bamboo bends and flexes to accommodate the pressure it’s put under, soft yet strong. So which one does Kei have? If there’s anything I’ve learned over the past two months, it’s that Kei isn’t Superman — which is why I’m afraid to find out today’s results. 

Ahh… damn it… let him advance!!

As in the first and second rounds, the judges’ results were announced by posting on a bulletin board after all the performances had finished. Most of the Fujimi people who had come to lend their support had done so during their work break, so the only people who could wait for the announcements were myself — since I don’t have a regular job — and Igarashi-kun, since he’s a college student. But Igarashi-kun left to have lunch with the sister Haruyama-san had brought along, and hadn’t come back yet. So when the competition staff member brought out the board with the names and numbers of those advancing into the lobby, I was the only person there to support Kei — which was probably a good thing.

Kei and I headed over to check the names with the other international participants and people who’d been waiting. Six out of the eleven had made it through to the finals but — Kei Tounoin’s name wasn’t there.

Kei’s name wasn’t— “You didn’t advance?” I vaguely heard Kei say something, but it felt distant. I was clinging to the possibility that maybe my bad eyesight made me miss his name on the board, but no matter how many times I looked, not one of the six names was Kei. He didn’t advance…

“Yuuki?” When he whispered in my ear, I snapped back to my senses with a start.

 “U-um…” I couldn’t bring myself to look at Kei’s face, so I nervously pretended to adjust my glasses. “T-that’s too bad, really. The Brahms was great, it was so good it gave me goosebumps.” 

Kei gave a small shrug and said, “I’m going to stop by the M-Kyo office to report back, so please go home without me.” His tone was calm and collected, and when I cautiously looked up at him he had his usual serene poker face, but…

“I’ll go with—” I was about to say we could go together, but I changed my mind at the last second. “It would look weird if I went with you, wouldn’t it? Okay, I’ll go home first and put some beers in the fridge.”

“Yeah. This is also a crucial time for you.”

“Oh, y-yeah. I only got in two hours of practice today. I should hurry home and get back to it.”

“Come with me to the station.”

“S-sure.” 

We walked the short distance to the station in silence. When we reached the area where we parted ways, the inner and outer platforms of the JR Yamanote Line, I couldn’t think of a single sensible thing to say. Well, it wasn’t that I couldn’t, but I wanted to have something encouraging to say to Kei, and even though I could think of dozens of things — none of the words would come out.

I really should have said something… I’m Kei’s boyfriend, I ought to do everything I can to comfort him. But I know from my own experience that at a time like this, I don’t want empty words of consolation or encouragement. So with that in mind, I assumed Kei might feel the same way and it made me hold back. I felt bad for even being there when the announcement was made… if I were Kei, I wouldn’t have wanted anybody to be there. To have someone see me, shocked after suffering a totally unexpected defeat… it would be nothing but unbearable pain. The closer I am to people — parents, siblings, lovers, and the like — the less I want them to see me like that.

Vanity… yes, it’s probably vanity. But that’s directly connected to pride, and so the compulsion to hide that side of oneself is for self-preservation. I don’t want anybody to know that miserable side of me, and I don’t want to be pitied or consoled, I don’t want my gaping wound to be picked at. Which is why I’d want to be left alone, until I have time to process my damaged pride and have the energy to put on a good face with a halfhearted smile. I have to come to terms with my feelings before I can withstand sympathy and consolation from others, I need time to curl up and adjust to the feeling of pain…!

If I were in his place, that’s what my mood would be right now… and to guess what Kei was feeling, I had nothing but my own experience to go on. So all I could do was wave goodbye to Kei at the station. Kei was fighting his own battle, and no matter how much I loved him, I was still an outsider in this situation. There was nothing I could do for him except to avoid foolishly making things worse. He didn’t show it on his face or in his tone of voice, which meant he was definitely hurt. Once injured, you don’t want the wound touched… so even the most heartfelt of consolations would feel painful.

On the way back to the apartment in Fujimi-cho, my stomach was in knots from the battle between my rational mind and my intuition, but I wasn’t about to let my mind win. I was Kei’s lover, I’m closer to him than anyone else, so I should understand him better than anyone else… and right now my intuition was telling me to leave him alone. My sense of reason acquiesced… so I’d come to a conclusion. However it made me feel was irrelevant.

Kei finally returned home after 11pm. We said our usual ‘I’m home’ and ‘welcome back’ with kisses.

“You must be tired. You’re going to take a bath, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’ll go run the hot water for you then.”

“Thank you.”

I plugged the tub, turned the faucet on, and went into the kitchen. I poured a glass of beer and set out some snacks for after the bath, then sat down at the table. The minute I sat down, I realized that my whole body was exhausted. What a day it’s been! It was still early August, so it’s probably hot and humid outside even though it’s nighttime. But the cool, air-conditioned apartment was terribly quiet, and it felt as if summer were already over. Well, in a way, Kei’s summer — the hot period of burning desire to win the competition — was over. I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on my hands, my palms pushing against my cheekbones. In my mind I saw the image of Kei from earlier, when I’d been watching him from the window…  ---

It was around 10pm when I’d looked down the street from the studio window, thinking it was about time for him to come home. From that window you can see a bit of the road that comes from the station through the gap between the buildings. I’d been standing there, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kei as he passed by; it was only by chance that I spotted him on the sidewalk, on the opposite side of the street from where I’d been looking. Neither Kei nor I use the sidewalk on the other side of the national highway, because you have to cross the road twice if you’re coming from the station. So I hadn’t thought to look there.

Kei was standing in the shadow of a tree, in a dimly lit area between two streetlights. He didn’t look downcast or like he was thinking, he was just… standing there. His head was up, back straight, probably with his usual poker face. Even if I hadn’t known the results from today, I would have determined it just from his posture. It’s hard to describe, but Kei’s resolutely straight silhouette gave the same impression as his poker face; a calm, blank feeling, implying he doesn't want anyone to see his inner self. I intended to watch him until he started to walk away, but Kei didn’t move.

Ten minutes passed, then twenty, and he remained standing there perfectly still. Finally I realized… maybe he didn’t have the courage to come back here? Maybe he was afraid that when he saw me, he wouldn’t be able to avoid talking about the competition… and he didn’t want to? Thinking about that made me want to run to his side and tell him not to worry… if he doesn’t want me to, I won’t look concerned or console him. I’ll act the way I always do. But before I left the window, I thought better of it: if I did that, it would show that I was anxiously waiting for him to come back, but it was my duty to wait until he returned of his own volition. 

I continued to watch Kei from the window and realized he might be able to see me as well… maybe he hadn’t come back because I was watching him? But I was afraid to take my eyes off of him. What if he just doesn’t come back…? What if he walked off instead? That thought made me feel like if I looked away, he would disappear… 

An hour after I spotted him, Kei finally moved; it took five minutes at his usual brisk pace for him to disappear behind a building. A feeling of dread welled up in my stomach, twisting it like a rag being wrung out. I prayed desperately, waiting impatiently for the moment the front door opened.

‘Kei, come back… please come back!’ ---

And Kei had come home, looking the same as ever.

“I’m done with the bath.” I heard his gentle baritone voice say softly from behind me, and I turned around with a smile. His freshly washed hair was brushed back, and Kei acted the way he always did, so all I could do was act normal as well.

“There’s a cold beer for you.”

“Thanks for that.”

“I prepared a few snacks. The edamame might need a little more salt.”

“I’ll go ahead, then.”

“Yeah. Save some beer for me!”

“Of course.”

As I washed off the day’s sweat in the bathroom — where the air was still scented with the smell of Kei’s shampoo — I made a decision. On the train ride home earlier, I’d wracked my brain for what I could do for Kei when an idea came to me. Yes… tomorrow, on his 24th birthday, the only gift I could give him was that…

The next morning, Kei woke up and went to work as usual; it seemed that he was forfeiting the time off he’d been granted until the day after tomorrow for the competition. Of course that made sense, but it really seemed unnecessary. I knew that Kei hadn’t slept a wink last night… we’d slept with our backs to each other, and I could feel him desperately trying to fall asleep. For a body and mind that hadn’t gotten any rest, boarding the rush hour train full of heavy disappointment would only make him feel worse. Regardless, Kei shaved, dressed, and ate breakfast as usual before leaving the house. And I sent him off with the usual ‘see you later’ kiss — because the person Kei’s trying to impress is me and nobody else.

I realized that after his passive behavior last night; Kei was doing everything he could to act as if not advancing was no big deal, that it meant nothing to him. This morning he hinted in a few words that the Tokyo International Competition was just a trial run, that he wasn’t worried about the results and didn’t really care. Why was he so determined to save face in front of me? I had an inkling of why, but confronting that reason would demand a careful approach. It was the root of what had kept him from sleeping well the past two months. From my point of view it was a bit silly and a touch annoying, but knowing how serious Kei was, I couldn’t ignore it when it was staring me in the face. Really… had that practical genius been wearing himself down in body and mind out of such arrogant childishness?

He’d given himself the role of being my singular, perfect guardian. He was trying to carry both of our lives on his shoulders… in addition to his lofty goal of becoming a successful musician… that’s bound to give anyone insomnia. Any sensitive person, anyway. The ridiculousness of it almost made me laugh — but his earnestness left no room for laughter. If he was doing it because he thinks I need coddling, I’d be outraged, but… I know that’s not his intention. Kei really believes that this is the best way he can express his love, so that’s what makes him act so guarded in front of me; he doesn’t want me to see anything that would be unbecoming of a ‘Perfect Guardian.’ 

Because he loves me. He loves me so much! So much that he puts walls up between us and drives himself to the brink! What the hell does he think he’ll accomplish by doing that?! Honestly, he’s so guarded about showing his weaknesses that he’s missing the entire point of having a “true relationship,” one where both people are singular in heart and soul! Sure, I’m a mediocre musician who can’t compare to his genius, and even in other ways he’s always ahead of me. The only thing I can really best him in is housework. But still, having a relationship of absolute guardian and ward isn’t what we need, is it? At least, that’s not the kind of loving partnership I’ve always imagined… we’re a million light years away from that right now.

So, I have to break down this wall he’s built. I’ve got to do something about it, no matter how difficult it is and how subtly it must be done. This stubborn, single-minded ‘childish’ part of him that he keeps inside, that thinks he can only rely on himself — maybe he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. I want to make him see that there’s someone who will indulge him, someone he can lean on when he’s tired, without injuring his pride. He’s the one who taught me how necessary that is, and the happiness it brings… now it’s my turn to teach him that. 

Love must be a cycle of give and take or else it will break down— I understand that now after observing Kei. That’s why somehow, I must get this through to him. We should aim to have a relationship built on mutual support… I have too much pride to be content with just sheltering under his wing, and I love him too much to be a lover who can’t reciprocate. He’s a pure-hearted, desperate, single-minded man who loves me with an earnestness that’s almost pitiful… very child-like… but I love him so much, I can’t bear to watch him suffer alone. 

So Kei… I want you to understand and accept my feelings. That’s the gift I’ll give to you tonight. ---

After going to Shinjuku and managing to find what I was looking for after a lot of digging, I took the JR line that transfers to the private train, exited the ticket gate from Fujimi station — and headed the opposite direction from the apartment. Today the waiting room at the Tamaki clinic was full of old people with back pain and strains. I handed my patient ID card to the receptionist and asked for an appointment with Dr. Tomoe, then stood in an empty spot against the wall.

Kei had brought me here to the Tamaki Orthopedic Clinic after a severe bout of shoulder pain triggered by stress. They had two doctors (or are they therapists…?): the one who treated me before, and another I hadn’t met. The person I saw was a woman and the other was a man, but they were both named ‘Dr. Tamaki,’ so they were probably a married couple. I saw the man when I’d come by the clinic the other day and exchanged a few words on the phone with him, but nothing beyond that. 

But when my name was finally called after almost an hour of waiting, it was the husband of Dr. Tamaki in the exam room. “Ah, so… Morimura-san. How’s your shoulder doing?”

“Well thanks to—“ I started to say, then corrected myself. “Um, actually I had asked to see the other Dr. Tamaki.”

“In the afternoons she’s out of the office making housecalls,” came the reply.

Why didn’t the receptionist tell me that in the first place?!

“Well, I guess I’ll come back later.” 

As I started to get up, this Dr. Tamaki — who seemed to be the younger one in the suspected relationship — responded curtly in the same manner as the other doctor, “You had a question, right? Go ahead, I have your chart here.”

“No, it’s not about me.” My tone was a little pointed, but it’s not unreasonable to be irritated after waiting an hour for nothing, right?

But Dr. Tamaki remained calm. “Please, go ahead,” he said, and folded his hands in his lap in a show of composure; it seemed he wasn’t going to let me leave until I talked.

“I… have a question about a medicine that was prescribed for my friend.”

“Who is it?’

“Um… Kei Tounoin.”

“Hasegawa-san, find his chart,” He called to one of the nurses, then turned back to me. He looked me straight in the eye and said, “I’ll take a look. However, there are some cases where we can’t disclose anything to anyone except the patient’s family or other authorized persons. Doctors have to respect patient confidentiality.”

So it looks like I’ll have to explain our situation if I want answers… 

“Tounoin-kun and I are roommates. I’m Yuuki Morimura, and have been under Dr. Tomoe’s care, but I think Tounoin-kun also saw her, since I found an empty medicine bottle in the trash. I know he’s been having some issues with insomnia for a while now, so I was curious to know what kind of medicine she prescribed for him. I was thinking maybe they were sedatives or sleeping pills.” As I was explaining, I noticed Dr. Tamaki glanced at the clock on the wall and hurried to wrap it up. “I was just a bit concerned about his condition, so I wanted to ask what made him come here to get a prescription. Well, that is, I wanted to ask the other doctor.”

Dr. Tamaki nodded. “Ah, you’ll need to ask my sister about that. I think she’ll be back soon, so why don’t we just wait for her?”

Oh dear, and here I thought they were married! Jeez…

“My sister also does psychological counseling, whereas I specialize in osteotomy and other physical therapies. I’m at your service for that kind of thing if you’d like.”

The doctor’s rough mannerisms and athletic attitude reminded me of a skinny Ikushima-san, which put me off a bit. “Well, that’s why I asked the receptionist to see Dr. Tomoe—“

“Oh, you’re pretty persistent, aren’t you? I always thought you musicians were weak.” Dr. Tamaki interrupted sarcastically, flashing a white smile.

“I wouldn’t say it’s any more demanding than sports. How long have you been playing violin?”

“Fourteen years.”

“That’s the same as my judo training. I did karate for ten years before that.”

“Ah…”

“Get undressed and lie down.”

“Huh?!”

“Says here on your chart that you might have a herniated disc? I’m gonna take a look, since we’ve got some time to kill. I’m much better at physical manipulation than my sister.”

“Oh…”

“As a musician, your body’s your bread and butter, right?”

“I suppose…” The way he switched topics was so random, I had a hard time following him. I ended up taking off my shirt and laying down stripped to the waist on the exam table.

“Relax.” Despite having the hands of a Karate fighter, Dr. Ototo’s fingertips were soft as he probed my spine while I lay face-down. “Oh, I see, it’s this one,” He rubbed the bone at the nape of my neck, the top of the cervical spine. “It’s not quite herniated yet, but I could see it becoming a problem in the future. How much do you practice?”

“About… eight hours on average.”

“Every day?”

“Yeah. I have a competition coming up.”

“What about self-care?”

“Huh?”

“Like do you go to a sauna or get massages after practice?”

“No, not really.”

“That’s no good.”

“…” At some point Dr. Ototo’s hands had switched from prodding to massaging. His touch was softer than his sister’s, reminding me of my mother’s gentle hands, and it relaxed my body — even though I hadn’t been aware of how tired I was or the tension in my shoulders. The comfortable feeling had almost lulled me to sleep…

“The prescription was for sleeping pills.”

The sound of Dr. Ototo’s voice brought me back to my senses.

“Mild ones, but not habit-forming. And as long as you don’t take the whole bottle at once, you won’t die.”

The thought of that made my heart pound, and I jerked involuntarily.

“Hm. So, you’re not just roommates… you’re living together?”

Gah!! W-w-why would he say that?!

“You’ve got a hickey, here and here.”

Arghhhh!

“As a horny bachelor, I wouldn’t mind a situation like that.”

Haa?!

“Sorry, I’m going to touch your lower back. Down here’s the keystone of the spine, so I’ve got to check it out.”

Wahh!

“Oops, that’s a pressure point…” he said with a smirk.

“D-don’t mess around!” I retorted. But the response I got from Dr. Ototo was unexpected.

“You’re the ‘caring wife’ type, aren’t you? The self-sacrificing kind who’d rather suffer themselves than let their husband feel it.”

“But I’m a man, you know!”

“Of course. Your back and butt muscles are strong, so as long as you don’t overdo it, you shouldn’t suffer too much back pain.”

“That’s good…”

“But, your whole body shows signs of fatigue. You’re still young so you can push yourself, but you’re not invincible. I’d watch your intestines and… your circulatory system, especially your heart. A lot of the overworking deaths that happen to young people are caused by heart failure, so be diligent but not excessive.”

“Don’t try to scare me!”

“A doctor wouldn’t be doing their job if they didn’t make you concerned about your health, eh?”

“Isn’t it bad business to lie to the client?”

“I’m not.”

“So you can tell a lot about a person’s internal organs just from a massage?”

“I can tell a lot about their mental state, and their emotions.”

“Really?”

“I’d guess about 80% of stress is because of anxiety from daily life.”

His tangent into anxiety got me thinking…Anxiety and instability… cause and effect. Maybe the reason for Kei’s instability right now wasn’t just his preoccupation with being my guardian, but also general anxiety? Then, what’s the root of that? Does he doubt my feelings? I’ll be upset if that’s the reason. But now that I think about it… ever since I started preparing for the competition, I’ve had my hands full just taking care of myself, so Kei’s been on the back burner. So maybe he felt like he’d been cast adrift on his own?

“Alright, that’s about it.” I opened my eyes, realizing I’d dozed off. “If you’re in the middle of hard training, you should come here as much as possible to try and limit fatigue.”

Dr. Ototo says that, but I’m not made of money. As I got up and started putting my shirt on, he looked as if he remembered something and said, “He was only given a three-day supply of medication.”

“Oh, really?” Well, the amount left looked like a two-day supply…

“It’s a drug that’s prescription-only,” he said. “Unless you get them through a street dealer. But that’s not very likely with a professional musician.”

“Yeah.” I bowed my head and thanked him, then left the exam room thinking about what keen intuition he had, like he’d read my mind. On the way out, I noticed Dr. Ototo’s name on the sports medicine degree hanging on the wall by the reception desk: Kunio-san. From that name I guessed he was from Okinawa, but I’d already gotten the impression he was from the south.

Ack, today is August 8th — Kei’s birthday. Of course I already knew that, but unfortunately… today is Tuesday, which means it’s a Fujimi rehearsal day, and Kei will probably go there like he always does. We can’t just throw a party like we did for my birthday back in February. I thought about doing something afterwards later in the week, but Kei probably wouldn’t be into that. So I decided I’d prepare something modest at home for the two of us, just some drinks, and left the apartment at 6:30pm to stop by room 62 on the floor below.

“Sora-kun? I’m headed to rehearsal!”

“Okaaay!” 

The fifteen-year-old horn player seemed to have grown a bit, but he was kind of stunted to begin with, so he still wasn’t more than 150cm tall.

“How are your studies going?”

“Ah, my fifth-grade math is super awful… even Endo-bean thinks it’s hard.”

Endo-kun’s already gone through fifth grade, and it’s hard for him, too…? “I’ll see if I can find a good cram school for you. If you’re already at the fifth grade level, you should be able to go to school by next spring if you really work at it. What has Ikushima-san said?”

“He told me ‘summer’s a bitch in Japan’ and asked if I want to go to Florida.”

“Ahaha, well summers in Tokyo really are sticky and miserable, but…” Ikushima-san, the pianist that lives with Sora-kun, was born in the US to Japanese parents and seems to be having some sort of issue with his passport. And Sora-kun has problems too, since his name was never put in a family register… so I think a vacation to Florida would be pretty hard to pull off.

“Takane asked me if I wanted to go to school in America.”

“Hm?” Really… well, for a special situation like Sora-kun, maybe the American educational system would be more appropriate.

“I told him I don’t know English, but he said that’s OK because half of Americans can’t speak American. Is that right?”

“Ahh, well… America is a country of immigrants, but most of the people who can’t speak English — or ‘American’ — are of Spanish descent.” But if he’s talking about studying abroad or immigrating, that’s gonna be more complicated than just a vacation to Florida…

When we got to the large conference room in the Civic Center where Fujimi rehearses, there were whispered discussions about Kei’s performance in the preliminary round yesterday… and the somewhat disappointing results. The people that had gone to listen all said the same thing: “Kei’s performance was the best.” Especially for the Brahms, ‘Nico-chan’ Ishida-san — a man who was such a classical music buff he’d named his cafe ‘Mozart’ and had so many records there was barely room to live in his house, in addition to being Fujimi’s manager — also spoke highly of his performance. 

I overheard him say, “Honestly, to be able to conduct Brahms so well at such a young age, he must have had good chemistry with the group. But I also think he’s just really talented.” What he said next caught me by surprise. “But the Mozart was unexpected. He did so well with our Eine Kleine, but maybe the fact that it was an opera threw him off.”

“So do you think it was Fígaro that made him lose, Ishida-san?” Igarashi-kun played the interviewer, holding a rolled-up piece of paper at Ishida-san like a mic. “Because his Brahms and Chopin were both great, right? Fígaro was the one I was worried about. But I didn’t think it was bad enough to kick him out of the running.”

“The singer and the orchestra weren’t together, were they?” Asked Suzuki-san, who had persuaded her husband to go with her to the Salzburg Festival last year. “I think that soprano was the one who performed with Tounoin-san on the radio.”

“Maybe they had a fight that time?”

“Hahaha, no way.”

“I wonder if the M-Kyo members know anything?”

“Still, I can’t imagine the singer would throw the competition—“ 

Just as Haruyama-san started to respond, two of the aforementioned M-Kyo members walked in… Iida-san and Nobuhara-san. Both of them had gone to hear the preliminary round. Igarashi-kun ran over to pull them aside.

“We were just discussing why Tounoin-san didn’t advance. Any comments?” Igarashi-kun asked, the paper mic held expectantly.

Iida-san hesitated, but replied, “I’m no critic, so this is just my personal opinion.” He paused. “The Brahms was amazing—”

Nobuhara-san nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I really wanted to hear the whole piece.”

“Chopin was also very good—“  Iida-continued, but Nobuhara-san shook his head and interrupted.

“The person that went before the Sub-Conductor let the orchestra accompany the piano, but His Highness forced the piano and orchestra to play together. With Chopin, the piano is always supposed to lead, but His Highness always—“

“Could you shut up for a minute?”

“I wouldn’t be Koichi Nobuhara if I shut up when I was told to.”

“Would you rather be called Sukichi?”

“Ah, screw it, I have cello to practice.”

They really are like a stand-up act…

“So, what about the Fígaro?”

Iida-san quickly returned to the topic, “To be honest, he made kind of a bold decision.”

“Oh, I see, so that’s how you’re looking at it?” Nobuhara-san continued to give his two cents regardless of what he’d just said.

“Well, this is the Sub-Conductor we’re talking about, after all. His Highness isn’t exactly the type to do something like that by accident.”

“Ah, yeah, that’s for sure.”

“That’s right. If we’d been able to listen to him in rehearsal, we could have given him some advice on the TPO before he went out and just blasted it in front of the judges.”

“Even if we told him, he probably would’ve done it anyway—”

“Uh, hello? This turned into a conversation between you two.” If Igarashi-kun hadn’t said something I would have done it myself. “So what was wrong with the Fígaro?”

“Huh? You were there, didn’t you hear it?” 

Igarashi-kun scratched his head at Iida-san’s question, so I admitted that I was confused also.

“What, you too, Concertmaster?”

“Um… well… opera isn’t really my thing...” I haven’t really listened to much of it. I know opera is an important genre within classical music, but I haven’t really made an effort to listen to any because it’s mainly vocal, and that doesn’t interest me much.

“Well even so, you couldn’t tell? The Fígaro His Highness performed wasn’t Mozart.” Nobuhara-san said, resting his cheek on the side of his cello case.

“Wasn’t Mozart?” I repeated back.

Iida-san replied, “Did that sound like Mozart to you, Mori-san?” Before I could reply, he said, “That was Wagner, right, Nobe?”

“Oh yeah, it could have been Wagner.”

“What, you didn’t get that?”

“No, I couldn’t tell if it sounded more like Brahms, Mahler, or Wagner.”

“It felt so uptight and overbearing, you can’t tell me it was anything but Wagner.”

“Yeah, okay, it was Wagner. It was a Wagnerian Fígaro. Sure.”

Iida-san dismissed Nobuhara-san with a snort and turned back to me, “So that’s what happened.”

“…huh…?”

“He conducted Mozart’s Fígaro in the style of Wagner.” 

I guess… if that’s what he says, then it’s the truth. “But, um… the prima didn’t do so well, but overall I thought the performance was okay…”

“Ah, yeah it wasn’t all bad.”

“You could say it was a ‘Sub-Conductor-style’ Fígaro.”

“So what’s wrong with that?”

“That’s what I meant when I said he was ‘bold,’ Mori-san…” Iida-san rubbed a finger between his furrowed brows. “For example, let’s take Karajan. Say he conducted Fígaro in his own ‘Karajan’ style, yeah? Half of the critics in the audience would say, ‘That’s not Mozart.’ But the other half would say, ‘it’s Figaro in Karajan’s style!’ and give it the OK. Because it’s Karajan. That’s why.”

“Oh, so you mean…?” 

I tilted my head and gave Iida-san a puzzled look, to which Nobuhara-san responded, “Classical music these days is very picky about playing things in the correct style, especially in competitions. If you don’t play Mozart like Mozart, it’ll count against you.”

“If His Highness were at the level of ‘maestro’ and pulled that, yesterday’s Figaro might have been applauded as an original ‘Kei Tounoin’ rendition. But personally, I feel like a serious Figaro would be like a Yoshimoto production that forgot the comedy bit. Anyway, in a competition, the standard is always whether or not one can play Mozart as Mozart. So His Highness misunderstood the TPO.”

Nobuhara-san nodded in agreement with Iida-san and added, “Brahms and Chopin sounded like they should, so why didn’t he perform the Mozart correctly?”

“I wonder. It couldn’t be because all the naughty male-female stuff in Figaro bothered him, right?”

“It’s raunchy! So maybe?! Ahaha, that’s right, that’s the kind of dirty story Iida likes. You know the plot of Figaro? You don’t? Okay so, the Count’s valet Figaro is about to marry the Countess’ maid Susanna, but the Countess’ husband, Count Almaviva, is also in love with Susanna and wants to screw her before Figaro gets a chance, because the lord has ‘first-night rights.’ Which means in exchange for allowing them to marry, he gets to taste the bride first.”

“What the hell?!” Haruyama-san said indignantly.

Nobuhara-san made an innocent face, “What, I’m just saying, that’s the plot of Figaro, right?”

“Jeez, that’s the story?!”

“Of course in the end Figaro saves the day, and he and Susanna are safely married.” Iida-san added. “But it’s more of a erotic comedy than a romantic comedy. It’s just not obvious because it’s in opera form.”

“I guess.”

“But you know, His Highness the Telephone Pole isn't a prude who’d worry about something being ‘dirty.’ Seems like he has a lot of experience in that department...”

“Ahem,” one of the men who was listening in on the conversation gave us a warning, probably concerned about the ears of the younger women in the group.

“Well anyway, that’s the only thing we could think of that would explain why he didn’t advance.” Iida-san corrected the course of the conversation with a nonchalant look.

Nobuhara-san followed suit. These two have such compatibility… “We’re not judges, so we can only guess.”

“If it were my choice, I’d have let him perform all of Figaro!”

“A confusing Wagnerian version? If you take away the comedy it just becomes a sloppy daytime drama.”

“Hahah I’d probably never work again!”

“What side are you on, Nobe?”

“I’m a devout follower of classical music.”

“Forever worshipping at the altar of tradition and form, eh?”

“It’s only through following tradition and formality that you can be a true classical musician, you know?”

“Stop, it sounds like a joke when it comes out of your mouth.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I just told you.”

“Iida-kun, you’re off our stand.”

“Wow, I‘ve finally been fired? That’s great!”

“Hey Igarashi, you’re promoted!”

“Oh, it’s ten ‘til eight!”

“Shit, Tounoin-san’s gonna be here any minute!”

“Crap, I haven’t played a note!”

I didn’t tune anyone, either! 

Five minutes before eight, Kei came in as expected with the usual look on his face. It seemed like he was going to wait in the background like he always does until it was on the hour, but he gave up after reading the mood of the room. He walked briskly to the podium and faced the members of the group, who all seemed awkward and uncomfortable. Only a week ago, this usually stoic man had stood in front of us in a surprisingly excited mood after passing the second round. But now everyone was too embarrassed to give him consoling sad looks. 

“I regret that I was unable to deliver the expected result yesterday, despite the many people who came out to support me,” Kei began. “I will simply say that I accept this result solemnly and intend to use it as a reminder to work more diligently in the future.”

I thought to myself, ‘This is probably the way he reported back to M-Kyo as well.’ The words were polite but impersonal, and rejected any attempt at advice or consolation, without giving the slightest hint of his own feelings. They were the vocal equivalent of his poker face, a way to keep his true heart locked away behind the armor of politeness. I expected it, but it was still sad to witness. I want you to be honest with Fujimi, Kei!

But then… maybe he’s always been like this. When I think about it, he’s never really been open with Fujimi, never seemed comfortable. He’s always stoic, rarely smiling or having casual conversation. Oh… damn. That’s how you are, aren’t you? Somehow I’d forgotten, thinking that the ‘him’ he showed to me was what everyone else saw. Just as his cold poker face is only one side of him, I forgot that the crying and laughing side he shows me is only the other part, not all of him. No… I was oblivious. He tickles my ears with all kinds of awkward and endearing words, so sweet they make my teeth hurt, and looks pleased when I’m embarrassed by them. But this side I’m seeing now is a part of him, also.

The him that exposed himself as a gay man to me, and passionately sought me out… the him that came with a blissful expression on his face… the him who confessed with shuddering shoulders that he wanted me so much he was on the verge of madness… and the him that fumed when I made light of his insistence on having daily ritual kisses. That’s the side of him he keeps tightly concealed. Just as I am myself, he is a complex, multifaceted individual, with the sum of various parts that make up ‘Kei Tounoin…’ 

It was a fleeting impression, merely a concept, but that was the moment when I first began to understand Kei as a whole. Ahh…how complicated, how difficult to understand and handle, how irresistible… a man who fascinates me endlessly. Kei… Kei… I like you so much! No, like isn’t a strong enough word! I love you, but even this isn’t enough to convey how I feel. So how can I put this overwhelming feeling into words?! How can I tell you?

“Concertmaster.”

I turned to the person next to me with a start.

“Tuning!” Miyake-san gave me a scolding whisper, and I jumped to my feet. As if he’d been waiting, the oboe sounded the ‘A’ note and the wind instruments joined in with their own sounds. We pretended that nothing had happened and began rehearsal. ---

“Happy Birthday.” We had a beer after our baths and made a small toast, and I took the opportunity to give him his gift. “I’d really love for you to come with me.” With that, I pushed the small item with a hand-tied ribbon in front of Kei.

“What is it? A ticket?”

“I don’t know if you’ll like it, but it’s the best I could do.”

“How could I not like a present from you?” Kei opened the envelope with a happy expression, hiding the fact that he didn’t really care about birthdays or presents. “This is…?” He looked up at me with wide eyes.

I smiled at him. “It’s an invitation to take a trip to the Echigo-Tsumari countryside during Fujimi’s summer break. I don’t usually take the green car, but it’s the only ticket I could get. I hope you’ll take me up on my offer.”

“You mean… to go to your parents’ house, right?” Kei looked at the JR Line tickets with a strange expression.

“We’ll stay at my parents’ house, yes, but the purpose is to visit the cemetery. I want to introduce you to my parents.”

“That’s…” 

“No? Will it be too difficult?”

“No… it’s not that.”

“Can’t you take some time off from M-Kyo?”

“What… about the competition?”

“I’m still going to do it, of course.”

“Then how—“

“I know it’s two weeks before the competition. But that’s one thing and this is another. If you love me, then I want you to come with me.” When he heard that ultimatum, Kei looked at me with a slightly shocked expression, then nodded.

“I’ll go.”

“Thank you.” I smiled. I knew that this trip might end up being a chaotic scene of coming out and parting ways with my family, but I still didn’t have an ounce of hesitation or fear. Perhaps it was because my love for Kei, the man sitting in front of me, was so strong that it rendered all other feelings meaningless. “Also, I have one more favor to ask.”

“What is it?”

“I want you.”

“Yuuki…”

“I’m dying for you to hold me.”

The intense gleam in Kei’s eyes felt like he suspected I was offering my body to soothe his melancholic mood. But right now I wanted to have sex with him with all my heart, with no pretense. And tonight I was like a drunken man, bold and able to act on my feelings. 

I walked around the table, took Kei’s hand, and wrapped his arm around my waist. Instead of bending over, I straddled Kei’s lap where he sat and demanded a kiss. There was a throbbing ache between my legs, desperate to be touched by Kei’s hand. Like a lewd slut I pressed my crotch against his toned body and moved against him. I slung my arms around Kei’s broad shoulders and devoured him greedily, writhing with the lust that painfully welled up inside me.

“I’m surprising myself… I’m acting strange tonight… right? But it’s not really that strange…ah, ahhh…hnng… K-Kei, what should I do… Hng!” I tried to hold myself back but I couldn’t, and I came even though we had only kissed. I felt my face turn red and buried it in Kei’s shoulder. “I-I’m sorry, being the only one turned on… like an idiot… but—“

Kei’s hand, which had been around my waist, slipped down and lifted the hem of my bathrobe. He fingered my ass, sliding one tip inside.

“Hnn—“ My voice shot up an octave as I let out a gasp. “Nnn… ngh, a-ahh~” I felt like I was about to come again just from his fingers.

“Yuuki…” Kei’s voice in my ear was filled with the same serious tone I’d seen in his eyes earlier.

“Sorry…” I confided. “But when I think of how much I like you, how much I love you…”

“…I’m sorry,” Kei’s voice said quietly. “That makes me happy, Yuuki.”

I looked up with a start. Kei… I was angry… and with a weak shove I pushed myself away from him. Immediately I felt a rush of embarrassment that made me want to bite my tongue and die right there, so I ran away from him into the cabin. I went into the bathroom, but that was a mistake: the mirror there forced me to look at my shameful face. I quickly turned off the light and shut my eyes in the darkness.

“Yuuki?”

Kei’s voice shocked me, and I quickly fumbled to lock the door just in time.

“Yuuki? Yuuki?” I heard him through the door.

“Leave me alone!” I responded. “I’m not in my right mind tonight. I don’t know why, so just forget about it. Good night, Kei.”

“I’ll kick down this door.” Came his reply.

“If you do that, I’ll jump out the window.”

“And fall straight to the ground?”

“What does it matter?!”

“Yuuki, what’s wrong? You’re really not acting like yourself tonight.”

“I know, didn’t I say that?! I’ll come out when I’ve cooled off.”

“Move out of the way, I’m going to break the door open.”

“Fine, I’ll unlock it! But if you come in, we’re over. Just leave me alone for thirty minutes.”

“Haa…” I heard Kei leave with a sigh.

I took off my defiled robe, got into the bathtub, and turned the shower on high. I dropped down on my ass and hugged my knees, letting the cold water drench my head. Under the spray I thought about our relationship, how we were helplessly passing by each other. I wasn’t sad, wasn’t disappointed, but… I didn’t know what to call it, but my tears mingled with the water running down my cheeks. I love Kei. I love him, I love him so much. I feel like I’m going crazy with heartache.

I didn’t hear the door open. The heavy water that had been beating down on me stopped abruptly, and I felt a warm, dry towel wrap around my shoulders. Kei pulled me to my feet without saying a word, dried my soaked hair, and patted down my body. Then he put a fresh robe on me that he’d brought and led me out of the bathroom.

“About this trip… I’m serious.” I said.

“Yes.”

That was the extent of our conversation. I got into bed with my back to Kei and, curled up and cold, fell asleep. ---

I had a dream in which I was desperately fighting against someone, thinking (I have to protect him!) with a strong sense of danger. Then my dream switched to walking through a maze with someone. It seemed to be one of those big ones in an amusement park, and I was guiding the person with me… trying to keep my nerves and mind sharp so I wouldn’t miss a step, so I wouldn’t make the person I was with worry. I was supposed to know how to get out of the maze, but every time we came to a fork I would try to remember which was the correct way, but my memory was blank, and I was in a constant state of panic. We shouldn’t be lost… I need to guide him without making a single wrong turn…ahh…no! No, I don’t know! What should I do?!

I opened my eyes and realized it was a dream. The overwhelming anxiety that had gripped me in the dream was still affecting me, my heart pounding violently in my chest, shaking my entire body. I took a deep breath to calm it down when I noticed that Kei’s hand was holding mine; he was fast asleep and didn’t seem to notice that I had woken up from a nightmare, yet he was holding my hand. I glanced at Kei’s sleeping face that was slightly visible in the dim light. Suddenly his eyebrows drew together and his teeth gritted. The hand holding mine tightened. 

Maybe it’s not realistic (I know it’s not), but in that moment I thought something intuitively— and I trusted my intuition: was the nightmare that woke me up… Kei’s? Had it been transmitted through our clasped hands and become mine as well? He probably has nightmares like that every night… he’s so determined to be my guardian, and it’s making him feel more and more trapped…

I lifted my arm and reached out with my free hand to pinch Kei’s nose, and shook it. 

“Hello, wake up, hey!”

“Nnngh… huh?” Kei said in a sleepy voice.

“Come on, obocchan that’s a half-year younger than me and pretends to have zero problems. Don’t act pretentious around me. You may be a genius, but you’re also kind of a child. I get it now.”

“Yuuki…?”

“Shush, you big baby. Children should go back to sleep. Come here.” I pulled Kei’s head into my chest. His lips parted in bewilderment, but I patted his large shoulders and kept holding him in my arms, like a child. “I love you. I love you so much. I really do… in your entirety… the strong parts, the weak parts, the smart and the stupid parts… I love it all. I want to love you, Kei… to love and be loved. Pamper and be pampered. Give comfort and be comforted. So Kei, am I wrong for thinking that’s the kind of relationship lovers should have?”

“…No.”

“Do you really mean that? Or are you just placating me?”

“I’m not placating you…”

“So, I can trust that’s how you really feel?”

“…”

“Is it?”

“I… what exactly do you want me to say?” 

Through sheer willpower and stubbornness he’d been concealing his weaknesses. But now his baritone voice was stilted and faint, sensing that this fiction was about to be exposed. But I didn’t hold back, “You should have told me that you were shocked when you didn’t advance. You had every right to be upset and depressed because it wasn’t supposed to go that way. But instead you put up a wall between us, trying to only show your strong side, to push me away. You don’t consider me as your lover, your equal. You don’t need me because you can handle everything on your own.”

“That’s not true!”

“It definitely is.”

“It is not, I swear.”

“Is that so. Then I guess I was wrong. It was all in my ‘ordinary person’ imagination that I thought you’re a human being with difficulties and worries. As your lover, is it presumptuous of me to want to share not only in your joys, but in your hardships as well? I’m not even qualified to listen to your complaints, let alone be allowed to support you emotionally. I guess you want to tell me ‘stop being so self-absorbed, you idiot!’”

“Yuuki…”

“It’s fine. I understand. If that’s what you want, then that’s how we’ll be. I won’t offend you by worrying about you like an idiot. I’ll just remember that I’m so much less than you, and act accordingly. I apologize for thinking that we were ‘give and take’ partners! I’m very sorry, I stand corrected—!!”

“Yuuki, Yuuki!” He shook me to shut me up and let out a pained wail that vibrated through my chest. Kei’s arms were wrapped around me… clutching me tightly as if his life depended on it, his face pressed against my chest. I felt warm wetness against my skin that started to cool as it spread through the robe’s fabric, and I felt such a sense of relief and joy that I wanted to cry myself.

“Kei… you’re finally mine. You’ve finally let me see your heart. I’m happy! I’m so happy to hold you like this. I love you…”

After that, Kei kept his face buried in my chest for quite a while. Though since his heart had been hardened behind his poker face for so long, it was probably going to take some time to truly melt: he didn’t make a sound while he cried, without so much as a gasp or a breath. But just the fact that he allowed himself to use my chest as a place to cry was a big step to me… well, for both of us. I stroked my beloved man’s hair until he’d cried enough, kissed his sweaty forehead goodnight, and snuggled into his arms… which was my favorite place to be. 

I slept soundly without dreaming, and apparently Kei did as well. ---

“Uwaah!”

I woke up to a deep bass exclamation.

“I screwed up, it’s past noon already.”

When I heard such a serious, concerned sound in his Fischer-Dieskau baritone, I burst out laughing without a second thought.

“…Good morning.” His somewhat disgruntled greeting tried to cover his embarrassment at having overslept.

 “Call the office,” I said. “You were out yesterday too, so I’m sure they’re wondering where you are.”

“I’m on break,” He replied. “You’re late.”

“What?” …oh, I remember now! “W-what time is it?!”

“12:52 — no, 12:53.”

“My rehearsal’s at two, I’m gonna be late! G-glasses, glasses, glasses!”

“Here they are.”

“Thank you! Then… clothes, clothes— no, phone first! My mobile—!”

“Yes, yes, it’s right here.”

I panicked and misdialed twice, but finally got it the third time, “Ah, Sanjo-san, it’s Morimura! Sorry, I’m running late! Um, by about 20… yeah, about 20 minutes! Sorry!” 

I rushed into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face, did my hair, threw on a shirt and started to put on pants— “Not pants, underwear, underwear! Socks!”

“Yuuki, don’t panic, just hurry.”

“How can I do one and not the other?! Ugh, 20 minutes isn’t enough!”

“It’s in Suginami, right?”

“At this time of day it’s hard to catch the connecting train…” Violin, wallet, tissues — ohp, where’s my music?! OK! “Alright, I’m off!” As I was about to run out the door, I realized I forgot something. “Kei! Ke—“ I turned around and bounced my head into the warm wall behind me.

“What are you doing, let’s go!”

“Huh?”

“It’ll be faster to go by car.” Kei quickly ran down the stairs with his long stride, and by the time I caught up to him he was getting into a cab he’d flagged down. “I need to get to Suginami ASAP.”

“Where in Suginami?” The driver asked.

“Oh, umm, by the Inokashira line.”

“How long will that take?”

“Well, traffic’s a liiiiittle bit heavy today.” The driver added hesitantly, “Maybe it’d be faster to take the train.”

I looked to Kei for his opinion.

“It will not.” He flatly rejected the idea. “Since you’re in such a rush, you’re sure to get in an accident.”

“I mean, you know I’m not a child, right?”

“Of course.”

The traffic was even worse than the driver had anticipated, and we ended up being five minutes later than I expected. But when I saw how much Kei had to pay, I didn’t want to tell him it had been for nothing. Well, I was already late, what difference does it make?

“So, um…” What was he going to do now? 

“Would it bother you if I observed your rehearsal?”

“Oh, you’re coming?”

“If you don’t mind…”

“Ah…” I wonder what he saw in my expression when I hesitated to answer?

“I’ll go home.” Kei’s face was sulky like a child.

I nodded and hurried to say, “If Sanjo-san doesn’t mind, I don’t mind. But, well, you should know…” I was about to say something about how she and I have a sort of… combative… way of interacting, when the door suddenly flew open.

“What happened to twenty minutes?” As usual Sanjo-san’s greeting was yelling and screaming, but this time standing in front of her was all 192cm of Kei Tounoin; he’d probably saved me from being slammed in the nose by the door. She looked up at him with her head tilted back, “Huh?”

“Is this a boxing gym?” Kei said in a baritone he deliberately pitched lower than usual.

“Who the heck are you?”

“Sorry, this is my friend —“

Kei bumped into me and sent me falling.

“Hey, not so rough! You ruined the landscaping.” There was a drop off by the front door with azaleas or something, and I’d come down on my butt with my legs sticking up, unable to get myself out.

“Are you okay?” Kei rushed over and pulled me up.

I turned to look at the plants, “Ahh, um… sorry, I’ll pay for it.” I said, but Sanjo-san was doubled over with laughter.

“The O-otaku and his lover, you’re like a comic act!” Her giggling kept going.

“This is Tounoin-kun. He’d like to observe our rehearsal, if that’s alright.”

“Hehehe… Sure, go ahead. If you can fit in the house.”

Kei raised his eyebrow, but ignored her dig at him with a smile, “Pardon the intrusion.” He stepped through the doorway.

“Geez, he really is huge…” Sanjo-san muttered, like a kid seeing an elephant for the first time. ---

The rehearsal went the way they always did, with a lot of bickering and arguing back and forth… I actually forgot that Kei was sitting in, and Sanjo-san didn’t act any differently; she’d ignored Kei from the start. 

“Why are you slowing down between the rests?! Because you go ‘laaa’ on this part, but then the next one is ‘la-la,’ so if you do that, then you’ll keep dragging the tempo down.”

“They’re quarter rests! Maybe it’s not working because you’re running ahead!”

“Are you stupid, otaku? Huh?! This is the part where we’re supposed to really dig in and keep the tempo up, it’s all in the timing!”

“You don’t have to yell, I can hear you just fine!” What’s the saying… the loudest person always wins? After working with this woman my voice is at least 15% louder than before. “Just shut up and listen for a minute.” I put my bow on the strings and played the four measures of the phrase in question. At Fukuyama-sensei’s insistence, I’d practiced this piece about 20-30% faster than the speed indicated in the score. So my fingers flew through the passage at almost the limit of my ability, went through the rests that we were arguing about in the way I wanted to, got to the end of the phrase, and stopped my bow. “This is how I want to play it. I don’t think it’s too draggy.”

“Do it one more time.” Sanjo-said.

“Let’s see, I’ll go from the previous page… from here, on the fourth page, all the way to this part.”

“OK.”

A piece of music has a certain flow from the beginning to the end, and that flow is what shapes the form of the piece. But getting that flow is not simple. It’s kind of a weird analogy, but take a dog for example. The head, body and tail are all different shapes on their own, but if you combine all those parts it creates a ‘dog’ shape. The flow of a piece is made up of different elements as well, but when taken as a whole, you get a sense of how they relate to each other. 

This means that each part must always be considered in the larger context of the piece, so you can’t decide how to play a part by itself without imagining it as part of that. Since there are various parts in any given section, a single phrase or note can be important, the key moment in the section. The rests that Sanjo-san was focusing on were indeed an important part, they serve as the organic connection between the preceding and following phrases. So depending on how those rests are handled, it will subtly change the color of the subsequent section. That’s why I’d done my research and was confident in the way I’d decided to do it. 

I finished playing the two pages that contained the section in question, so my intention was as clear as possible, then put down my bow. Sanjo-san ruffled her yellow hair and mumbled, “Shit—“ to herself, then said, “OK, you win. So let’s move on.” Right when she put her fingers on the keyboard, the phone on the wall started to ring. “Goddammit— who’s that?” She muttered and got up, picked up the receiver — and instantly changed her demeanor. “Yes, this is Sanjo speaking.” She spoke with a gentle falsetto, the tone elegant and soft. 

I glanced over at Kei, who was sitting on the sofa behind the piano, and gave him a look to note that this is how she tricked me the first time I talked to her. Kei raised his eyebrow with an understanding expression. Sanjo-san’s quiet voice made me nervous.

“Yes… yes… ah, okay. Yes, I understand.” She hung up the phone and looked over at me. “That was from Daikanyama. He has some free time this evening, so he asked us to come over.”

Fukuyama-sensei?! “What time?!”

“Right now, naturally.” With that, Sanjo-san got up and was about to leave the room when she stopped abruptly and turned around. “What about you, beanpole? What’re you gonna do?”

“Me?”

“My car’s pretty small… well, maybe you’ll fit.” Then she disappeared into the other room and said, “I’m gonna change.”

I also got ready to leave, wiping the rosin dust off of my violin and placing it in the case. While loosening my bow hair, I said to Kei, “She acts like a guy, right?”

“Is she always like that?”

“Yep. Half our rehearsals are yelling at each other.”

“That’s a side of you I didn’t know existed.”

“Ahaha, our relationship started with a fight.”

Speaking of which, the door flung open and she said, “Come on, let’s go!”

“Ah, Sanjo-san, where’s your music?”

“It’s right there! Grab it for me!”

I gestured at Kei. He stood up, took the score from the piano, inspected it, and then put it under his arm.  ---

Sanjo-san’s car was a bright red sub-compact, and even though Kei fit himself in the back seat at an angle, he still looked cramped.

“You OK back there, nii-chan? Morimura-san, put your seatbelt on. If the car can’t make it up the hill, you two’ll have to get out and push.”

The car started with a heavy rumbling, like it was trying to take flight, then reluctantly started to move forward. Her driving wasn’t bad, but it was pretty rough; there were plenty of times where she scared me. But the thing that made me more nervous was her mouth.

“You’re that nii-chan, right? The conductor that performed at the Tokyo International Competition?”

I couldn’t tell which one of us she was talking to, but I knew if I answered she would definitely know Kei was my lover. 

When I hesitated, Kei replied, “Yes.”

H-hold on—!

“Yeah. I didn’t advance.”

Kei…

“What the hell? When’d that happen?”

Wait, Sanjo-san—!

“In the third round.”

Kei!

“Hmm. Well, you still did pretty good.”

“I had planned to win.”

Kei…?

“Isn’t that what everyone plans to do?”

“I’ll settle for winning the Besançon.”

Kei!

“Oh-ho-ho, that’s a biggie.”

“Well it won’t do for the boyfriend of the Nippon Grand Prix-winning violinist to go without winning something.”

“K-k….Kei!”

“Yes?”

“Oh, so this is ‘Kei-chan,’ eh, otaku?”

“I’m Kei Tounoin. The ‘Tou’ is from the character for the paulownia tree, and there’s a katakana ‘no’ between the ‘Tou’ and the ‘In’ character from ‘hospital.’ Kei is spelled as the doubled ‘Tsuchi’ character for ‘Earth.’”

“Hmm… are you from Kyoto?”

“You mean my family? I’ve heard that my ancestors were court nobility.”

“Heh, what a coincidence. My family was also nobility before the war. A small house, but we were still proud and strict.” Suddenly Sanjo-san’s hand smacked the horn and she careened around the car in front of her.

beep-beep-beep-beeeeeep!!

“You stupid bastard! Look where you’re going! If you think you can cut me off you got another thing coming!” She shouted at the driver in her rear view mirror, waving her middle finger in the air. She turned back to Kei, “I do what I want, though.”

“So do I.” There was definitely a smile in Kei’s voice when he answered, “Being tied down to a family house is absurd.”

Hold on… Kei? How are you two getting along so well…

“By the way, Morimura-san. Are you as stubborn with nii-chan as you are with me?”

Crap! “H-how am I stubborn?”

“Noooo, you’re not stubborn… you’ve just given that demonic old man in Daikanyama so much grief he’s dubbed you the ‘Stubborn Echigo Man.’”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Does that mean he’s tame as a kitten for his lover?”

S-Sanjo-san!

“Alright, here we are. Go ahead, I’ll park the car.”

I crawled out of the cramped passenger seat, exhausted. Kei climbed out next, and I glared at him…

“What are you upset about?” Kei teased, still holding his poker face. I turned my back to him and he said, “She’s an easy woman to get along with, since she’s not tender-hearted.”

Gulp.

“I think she could be a good friend for you. That’s a relief.”

What…?

“Now, I wonder what kind of person Fukuyama-shi is…”

Wait a minute, Kei… is he… inspecting everyone like some kind of jealous husband? (Wait!) I grabbed him as he was about to walk towards the entrance and said, “I came out to Sanjo-san, but not to Sensei! So don’t—”

“I got it,” He said, and grazed my lips with his. I went pale for a second, then flushed bright red.

“K-Kei—”

“What the hell, are you making out?” Sanjo-san‘s voice boomed behind my head. “Let’s go!” 

Kei escorted me forward, and Sanjo-san was the one who introduced Kei to Fukuyama-sensei, and asked for permission for him to observe. Thanks to my need to tune — which requires a lot of focus — I managed to regain my composure. And once I’d checked my beginning cues in the score, I dove completely into the world of Tzigane; I became absorbed with the task of committing all of Sensei’s meticulous critiques to memory.

“Two weeks to go.”

I nodded.

“Then let’s hear the Bach.”

“Ah… yes.” I hadn’t brought that music because I didn’t plan to play it in this lesson, but that excuse wouldn’t fly with Sensei. I’d already memorized it, anyway. I got an ‘A’ from Sanjo-san to double check my tuning, then began.

Sensei let me go all the way to the end without saying a word, then said, “You lost.”

“Huh…?”

“If you play like that, you’ll be out in the first round.”

“Um…?”

“Don’t you get it?”

“Ah… yes.”

“You still don’t get it! Don’t you know the difference between harmony and chords? That’s enough! Don’t bother playing it again.”

S-Sensei…

He got up and left the room. ThumpThumpThump… boom!

“He’s completely snapped.”

“Looks like.” 

Don’t talk about it like I’m not here!

ThumpThumpThump the footsteps came back and the door opened with another bang. “Morimura!”

“Y-yes?!” My back stiffened instantly.

Sensei said with terrifying calm, “Did you take regular courses in high school?”

“Y-yes.”

“You didn’t do any music courses, did you?”

“Yes, I took one as part of the liberal arts program in the prefectural school.”

“Didn’t you learn anything?!”

“Ah…”

“Harmony. You can’t play Bach correctly unless you understand the harmony.” He said with uncustomary politeness. He sat down in front of the piano and called me over. He used a pencil to point at the music he’d brought from the other room, explaining, “Okay, for example, these four notes make up the chords, but they should be interpreted as moving forward. The flow of the piece is found in how the four voices move in harmony, horizontally. You see? Because Bach wrote religious music, and the basis of that is chant, or choral music. Therefore, you must read the chords horizontally by voice: countertenor, tenor, baritone and bass. The harmony of these four voices forms the notated chords. Meaning when you play the piece, you have to understand how each voice functions, and then see how the harmony is made up of the four voices working together.”

If I’d gone to an arts high school, I would’ve learned this basic knowledge back then, which is why Sensei assumed I already knew it.

“I forgot that you’re a bumpkin from Echigo.” The rude-mouthed Sensei scratched his head, “But I think you’ve got the idea now, right? Go on, play it.”

He made me play it through three more times, made sure I understood the concept, then ended the lesson.

“You should have it ready by Friday.”

Ugh, the day after tomorrow?! Yes, I’ll get it done.

“Kaoruko, next week you can focus on the Ravel and have it finished.”

“I’ll be ready.”

Kei, who’d been observing everything from a chair in the corner of the lesson room, stood up to his full height. He bowed to Sensei and started to leave the room.

“So what’s his deal?” Sensei asked me. 

Since Sanjo-san had been the one to introduce him, the fact that he bothered to ask me directly meant that he was somewhat curious about our connection.

“This is my good friend Kei Tounoin, who serves as the sub-conductor for the M-Kyo Symphony Orchestra.”

“Oh-ho?” The teacher scrutinized Kei, “I bet they have no problem seeing the stick.” Then he turned back to me, “I have a friend who teaches at the University of the Arts, and I recall him mentioning a student who quit about four years ago after a disagreement with his professor. Apparently he competed in the Tokyo International Music Festival this year.”

Does he mean Kei?!

“I heard that idiot unwittingly challenged the judges and failed to advance — but Nangou was happy to see that the stubborn ass was alive and well.”

“Do you and Nangou-sensei know each other?” Kei said politely.

“What, are you Nangou’s former student?”

Sensei is playing dumb; he obviously figured out who Kei was and brought up Nangou-sensei deliberately to provoke him.

“He has the same bad luck with students that I do, always getting the stubborn ones that won’t listen.”

Ugh, am I really that bad…? However, I was glad that he mentioned Kei’s former teacher. I’d been thinking that Kei could use a mentor who could advise him on things.

We decided to take the train back home, and on the way I immediately brought up the idea, “This Nangou-sensei… from what Fukuyama-sensei said, it seems like he came to listen to the competition. So if you have some free time you should probably pay him a visit.”

“I suppose,” Kei unenthusiastically replied.

“Ah, is he the professor you had a fight with?”

“No, Nangou-shi was a lecturer in the composition department.”

“Well, if he’s not the one you fought with, you should go see him. It’s only common courtesy.”

“Haa.”

If I told him outright to ask the teacher for guidance, Kei probably wouldn’t do it even if he actually wanted to, so I tried to guilt him into it. He’s an old-fashioned kind of guy, so I figured if he was told to be polite or something he’d be more inclined to do it. And he might end up getting some use out of it.

Just when I thought we were done with the subject, Kei said quietly, “I don’t mind being called stubborn, but I just can’t abide when someone refuses to listen to me…” He didn’t say whether or not he would go, and it sounded more like he was just thinking out loud, so I casually nodded… but inwardly I thought (yes!).

We’re still young, and although he’s a genius, he’s still a little wet behind the ears. We’re both at the age where we should strive to learn from those who came before, and the ones before them. Of course, considering the breadth of classical music, we’ll be studying that for the rest of our lives. But especially at this point, we should be humble and absorb everything we can regardless of what we personally believe. I realized that when I decided to participate in the Nippon and went back to study with Fukuyama-sensei, even though I’d been battered by him before.  So even though he and I are at different maturity levels, I still think he could use a teacher. I don’t know if this Nangou-sensei is the right person or not, but it’s certainly an opportunity. I’ll try to get Kei to pay him a visit. Yeah, I’m feeling determined! ---

After our Thursday rehearsal, Fujimi went on summer vacation as always. However, this year we had to shorten the break slightly because of our upcoming performance in September, so we would resume rehearsals on Saturday the 19th. Some people might not be back from their Obon vacations, but even if there were only a few people we agreed to still meet.

On Friday I had another lesson with Fukuyama-sensei, then went shopping for souvenirs to take back to my parents’ house. I bought whatever I could think of that was inexpensive, small, and lightweight, then headed back to the apartment. ---

August 12, Saturday, 4:30am.

Kei and I got into the cab we’d reserved and headed to Ueno station. Since my idea to go back home was rather sudden, the only tickets I was able to get were for the first train leaving at 6am, and in the Green Car on top of that. But it was a miracle I could even get tickets for the Shinkansen at this time of year, and with a seat reservation. I felt like it was a sign, that my parents wanted me to bring Kei to meet them — not the reward for my perseverance standing in the waitlist line for four hours.

The cab sped along, the air having a slight cool breeze that was somewhere between a tropical night and a midsummer day, and we arrived at Ueno station in less than an hour. Even though regular trains had already started running, the station was deserted. We followed the passageway and took the escalator that seemed to go down to the center of the earth… We settled into our green seats on the ‘Asahi’ train of the Joetsu Shinkansen. The train would arrive before noon. After dropping off our luggage, we would go out to visit the graves.

Dad, Mom, I’d like to introduce you to my boyfriend. I’m sorry to spring it on you like this. I know it’s a bit much to ask you to approve of your only son having a boyfriend, but… I’m willing to take the risk. I love this man. I love him so much that a coward like me is willing to bring him here and introduce him to my mother and father, and he loves me just as seriously. Kei is the kind of lover who would give up his life to protect me.

Yes, his name is Kei Tounoin.

#fujimi orchestra #yaoi #BL #light novel #Akizuki Koh #classical music #90s BL #orchestra #Keiko Nishi

[symphonicscans]

Zoku Violinist of Hameln, Chapter 3

The chapters continue slowly T_T but still working on them! Download it here!

Next chapter is the actual last in this volume, but also the longest at around 50+ pages. 

#violinist of hameln #zoku violinist of hameln #Michiaki Watanabe #voh #violinist of hameln continued #scanlations

[symphonicscans]

Fujimi Orchestra - Sunset, Sunrise (Book 9, Chapter 1)

Author: Akizuki Koh Illustrator: Keiko Nishi Content Warning: 18+

With this book, we’re a little over halfway through Part 2 of the story! I feel like the title of this book/chapter is a reference to “Sunrise, Sunset,” which is a song from the musical Fiddler on the Roof, but I can’t be sure. I don’t really know why that would be a reference, either...

You can read the first chapter here on Google.  Or read under the cut, but keep in mind there are some footnotes that don’t transfer over to Tumblr!

Sunset, Sunrise

“It’s like I said! I don’t understand your phrasing, if you can explain what the hell you’re doing in this spot, then do it!!” Kaoruko Sanjo yelled, then blocked my attempt to respond with a series of insults she launched into with her rapid jet breath, “Do you even know how to read music? Or are you just some kind of super-amateur, thinking you can read music when you don’t even understand the words and symbols!”

“I’ve studied as much as I can about Ravel and the music of that era!” I was determined to get some sort of defense in while Kaoruko Sanjo was forced to catch her breath. “As far as Ravel’s concerned, I’ve studied all his other scores besides Tzigane, and even listened to all the CD recordings!”

“Studied?! Listened?!” Kaoruko Sanjo screeched in a voice twice as loud as mine (sopranos sure are powerful!) and was able to cut off my protests. “If that’s all you had to do to win, nobody would have any trouble! You studied it— ha!! That’s the least you could do! I don’t have as much time as you do, obocchama!!”

Arghh! It sounded like one of the blood vessels in my head finally snapped — or maybe I imagined that — but either way, we’d reached the limits of our effort and patience to communicate, which meant it was the end of today’s ‘lesson.’

 “I don’t have time for this either! You’re not the one who’ll be judged at the competition, I will!! But all you do is push me around and undermine my efforts! You’re free to dislike my interpretation of Tzigane, but since you’ve agreed to accompany me, at least stop trying to drag me down!” As I was talking I removed my shoulder rest from the violin and loosened my bow, clearly preparing to leave. 

Still making a bitchy face, the woman turned to me and clapped back tenfold, “If you had anything to drag down, I wouldn’t be this irritated! You graduated from university so I thought you’d at least be able to grasp the idea of phrasing, but after playing so badly you have the nerve to say ‘don’t drag me down!’ Take a look in the mirror and come back when you’ve figured out your shit!! You think you can win with this Tzigane, be a professional soloist in three years, a virtuoso in five years, and a ‘maestro’ in ten! And after that, you’d be a world-famous violinist!! Don’t make me laugh, I can’t believe that’s the level of up-and-coming young Japanese violinists! It’s news to me! Fucking hilarious!!”

“Y-you’re going too far! No normal person would say something like that!”

“I’m telling you because you won’t understand unless I put it bluntly! Normal people wouldn’t say that?! Ha! You act like you’re so smart, but you gotta fix your incompetence before you can act like that!!”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“You think so? If you’re tired of it, you don’t have to come back here anymore.”

“I’d love that!” I yelled, then slammed the door shut with barely repressed anger and plodded down the hall. I shoved my feet in my shoes, opened the front door with a snap, and shut it with a thud. I yelled ‘shut up!’ to the neighbor dog that always barked at me and started to walk off quickly.

‘Shit!! That damn woman!! Even though I know women can be like that, where does she get off thinking she can say that kind of bullshit to me!? Not only that, I have another lesson tomorrow with Fukuyama-sensei and all I’ve gotten this week is pissed off and an upset stomach!! I don’t care that she’s his favorite pianist, I’m done with her! Tomorrow I’m gonna make it clear to him that I can’t play with her at all! It’s crazy that I put up with her for three weeks!’

It took three train changes and almost an hour to get home. I was so pissed off my feet flew like a jogger’s as I went up the stairs.

“Welcome home,” A baritone voice greeted me. “You’re back early.”

“Oh, I’m early alright! I’m not even gonna practice anymore today!!”

Kei, who was on the floor surrounded by sheet music spread around him, smiled and stood up. He came over and folded me into his large chest, patting me on the back like a sick child.

“Stop it,” I tried to shake him off, but Kei held me firmly in his arms and wouldn’t let me go.

“Now, now, just calm down a little. What did you get into a fight about today?”

“What didn’t we fight about?! Everything! She said that my phrasing was bad, and that if this level of music interpretation was good enough, then being a musician would be a walk in the park, and that my attitude was awful and I was annoying, and on and on!”

“So did you respond after that?”

“Of course I responded! I knew she’d say a dozen things back to me, but how could I keep silent? I’ve worked really hard on this. She told me to explain why I was playing it like that, so I did, but that woman had zero intention of listening to my ideas. From the very beginning she only wanted to impose her way of doing things on me, and her mouth’s like a machine gun, blasting abuses and trying to make me submit. I don’t like to be violent, but if she wasn’t a woman, I’d have hit her! Yeah, I’d have hit her a long time ago! But forget it, soon it won’t be my problem.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll tell sensei tomorrow. I’m gonna tell him that I can’t play with that kind of accompaniment.”

“I think you said something like that last week too.”

That hit me where it hurt, and I sneered back, “That woman acted tame as a kitten in front of sensei, so he was completely fooled. But now I know, the chemistry between me and that woman is less than zero. There’s nothing good that can come from rehearsals that only turn into fights, so I definitely have to get a different accompanist. Otherwise I won’t play Tzigane.”

“But you’ll still have to see her in the lesson tomorrow, won’t you?”

“I… suppose so. But —“ 

“Even if you get rid of her, won’t you dislike it if it looks like you ran away with your tail between your legs?”

“Of course I would.”

“Well then, let’s discuss a plan of action.”

“You want me to rethink my phrasing? You’re telling me I need to relearn everything like that woman told me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I just think it wouldn’t hurt to check your theoretical defense again, so that you can stand up to her regardless of what she says. I mean, you can never read too much into a score, no matter how many times you’ve looked at it.”

“I…okay. To be honest, there’s a part of me that felt like I couldn’t defend some of my decisions, and that gave her an opening she could take advantage of. She was able to point out things I had let slide without even noticing. She’s a genius at finding flaws, it’s so annoying.”

“Then, shall I help you a little? The more you study the music, the harder it will be for her to find things you’ve overlooked.”

“But, don’t you have your own studying to do? The second round of the Tokyo International Competition is tomorrow, right?”

“I went to the reception desk today and was told my performance will be on the second day, Saturday. So I have a day to burn.”

“Then you should use the extra time for yourself!”

“You don’t want me to help you? If you don’t want it, I won’t interfere unnecessarily.”

I don’t want him to be sullen, I was just trying to do what’s best for him. But… I guess that’s how  Kei feels as well. “Alright, I’ll let you spoil me. Will you help me look over the score?”

“Yes, I’d be happy to.” Kei said with a smirk. “By the way, I haven’t gotten my ‘I’m home’ kiss yet.”

Okay, okay… “I’m home.”

“Welcome back.” Our greeting kisses aren’t light pecks, but deep and intense at Kei’s insistence. I have to be slow and lingering and put my heart into it to show that I love him, or he won’t let go. But even so… isn’t this a little much? What’s his hand doing… oh, hey!

“Uff—“

“Oh, it seems like you’re angry down here too.”

“N-not really! It’s because you’re too—” He kissed me intensely, and then started feeling me up… “A-ahh…nngh, no…”

“I don’t think so, if you don’t calm down you won’t be able to concentrate on studying.”

“T-that’s a flimsy excuse…” Having said that, I knew I’d already lost. He quickly started to take off my clothes… what, only my pants? Wait, we’re doing it here, on the doorstep!? “S-stop! No, don’t!”

“Would you prefer to take more time in bed? I don’t mind.”

“N-no it’s not that, but… doing it here… what if somebody like Ikushima-san or Sora-kun walked in…”

“Then it’ll be easier to tell them we’re busy. Here, move your hand. Or do you want me to start here?” Kei’s finger went directly to my ass.

“Hnngh! Ah, ahhh~” I moaned and gasped involuntarily as I felt him start to thrust in and out of me wetly.

“Well then, looks like I can go ahead.”

“Ah, no…”

But in these situations my protests were rarely successful. He held my hands against the wall like a prisoner, my pants and briefs down around my ankles and my ass pulled close. His hard, hot cock inserted with a deliberate slowness that made it seem like it was going even deeper into my body, making me really feel the sensation of being penetrated. 

“Ah…uhnn… it’s too tight, Kei.”

“Does it hurt? Are you in pain?”

“It’s just tight… that’s all. But… what can I…”

“It’s very tight. I need you to relax a little so I can move.” Kei’s hand came around in front of me and grasped my ‘angry’ penis, playing with it rhythmically; I felt my insides that were clamped around Kei ripple in response to the pleasure. “Uhhn…ahh…” As if anticipating this moment, Kei started to move. “Ah, ah, ah~”

“Yeah, you feel so intoxicating … it’s good, Yuuki, wonderful.” 

It was still daylight outside, and the door right in front of me is directly connected to the world, where somebody could come in at any moment… and here I am, half-dressed, with barely anything on besides my glasses. The situation was really exciting, like a secret office affair. Of course, that’s probably what Kei was going for, but I was completely taken in by it… I don’t know if this is a good idea, Kei. I mean, it’s nice, but… it’s kind of perverted, isn’t it?

After our mid-afternoon affair (well… not really, but that’s what it felt like) we had our study session. I spread the score to Tzigane on the kitchen table and faced each other with coffee in hand.

“Oh… I see.”

“Is that different from the phrasing you were thinking of?”

“Yes. If I were you, I would treat this legato and the subsequent non-legato section as one phrase.”

“Right.”

“But then there’s a rest here.”

”Yes, but if you use it to break up the phrases, then it will kill the rest of it.”

“Ugh. Really? Let me see.” 

I turned the score around towards Kei.

“Yes, may I suggest something? If we consider the whole passage from here to here as one phrase, the rest gives a half-beat of tension before the expression changes from legato to non-legato in the phrase. So it’s like ‘Dala~la~da~la, Ladadada…’ and so on.”

“So even though there’s a rest there’s no break in the tension?”

“Yes. I think that kind of approach is better suited to a piece like this, where you have to continuously build tension.”

“…Fuu…” 

Kei heard me sigh under my breath, which must have sounded like criticism to him. “It’s only a suggestion, based on my opinion.” He said, smiling.

I smiled back and told him not to worry about it. “I don’t mean to be so sensitive,” I said. “It’s just, that’s something Kaoruko Sanjo also says. It’s like her catchphrase.”

“Ah…”

“Well, she tells me to be more ‘aggressive,’ but the thing is... I’m trying my best to do that. If I want to play in a way that satisfies this ‘professional’ woman, I’ll probably have to change out violins in the middle of the piece just to keep up.”

“It’s not something to do with volume or tempo, is it?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Is it a matter of your attitude towards the music?”

“That’s what she keeps telling me. But just because somebody comes at me with a combative attitude, that doesn’t mean I have to match them, right? I have my own way of playing.”

“Is it that the music lacks impact in some way?”

“She’s got a real stubborn ear! Didn’t I say that? She only wants to impose her way on everything.”

“Hmm…”

“So, um, this is how I see this part. I’m trying to put the section here, here and here into one phrase.”

“Yeah, I agree with that.”

“OK. Then, the next part is…”

--

I’m Yuuki Morimura, twenty-four years old and a violinist — though I can’t call myself a ‘professional’ quite yet; currently I’m preparing to enter the Nippon Music Competition as a stepping stone to becoming one. But just as I decided only three months ago that I wanted to become a professional violinist, I’m also late to the party in regards to entering competitions. Actually, I might be one of the oldest. I mean, the majority of contestants are high schoolers these days. Even the one I’m competing in is called the ‘Nippon’ Music Competition, not the ‘Student’ Music Competition, yet several junior high school students have won prizes in it. It’s become a place for precocious geniuses to make their mark in the world.

So that’s why I say I’m late, being a first-time contender at the age of twenty-four. I’m getting lessons from Fukuyama-sensei, my former professor from university, who had sarcastically told me when I first started with him that ‘Echigo people are just too timid.’ But in my case, it was because of what I believed were choices were at the time… true, if I’d won a competition during my college days then I might be in a professional orchestra now, instead of it being a distant dream. But… well, it doesn’t matter. It would have been impossible. Back then I was consumed with stage fright, and I didn’t have Kei there to support me.

Yes, my lover and live-in partner, Kei Tounoin, is irreplaceable to me as both a violinist and as a person. Next Tuesday, on August 8th, he will turn twenty-four years old. Though Kei is half a year younger than me, he’s been blessed with many times more musical talent than I have. He’s a conductor, and even if he weren’t my boyfriend I wouldn’t hesitate to call him a genius. It was because of Kei’s influence and support that I was inspired to become a professional musician again, and decided to enter the competition.

The more I think about it, the more I realize how true that is. Kei and I have known each other for a year, and since then I’ve had an avalanche of new experiences. But as a musician, the biggest one was the success of my solo performance with the Mendelssohn violin concerto. Last November I was the soloist for the Fujimi Civic Orchestra (also known as ‘Fujimi’), where both of us are members as the concertmaster and permanent conductor respectively. It was our first concert in two years, and it was a great success… but for me personally, the biggest achievement was finding a way to overcome my terrible stage fright. When I was about to go onstage I started to panic, but Kei kissed me and calmed me down. Of course I don’t think it was just because he kissed me…

Well anyway, the main difference was this time I had somebody I could truly trust. People always give you words of encouragement like ‘You can do it’ or ‘You’ll be fine,’ but those never actually made me feel better until I heard them come out of Kei’s mouth. When he said that, it gave me the strength to believe it. Thanks to that I was able to give it my all in the Mendelssohn, and even in the surprise recitals that followed it (though I was riding the performance high by that point, so I can only go by what people told me afterwards). But thanks to that experience, my ‘dream’ of being a professional was revived, and I decided to take on the big stage at the Nippon. After all, Kei always has my back.

When it comes to development as a musician and life experience in general, Kei is far ahead of me and I’m just following in his footsteps. But he’s always watching over me, right behind every step I take. How should I put it… he’s watching from where he can see me, but where I won’t notice him, close enough that he can lend me a hand in a pinch — I guess something like that…? It’s given me the reassurance to take on things I never would have imagined doing, but it’s not a sustainable situation. Always having me rely on him, making me into a spoiled child… it’s not just bad for me, it’s probably not good for Kei either. It’s hard for me to describe, but… well, if he always has to protect and work with me like this, wouldn’t that mean Kei was burdened with living two people’s lives? Maybe not right now, but it could get to that point in the future… and then Kei will realize I’m a burden. In that case, I have to make sure that doesn’t happen. Because you can guess what happens when a lover becomes nothing but a burden…

I’d better assume that there’s a time limit for this. Even though Kei’s mental capacity matches his imposing 192cm physique, he has to have a limit.  Not to mention Kei has his own studying and work to do… I’ve been wondering if he’s at the point where he could end up combusting from going beyond his capacity. Not only is Kei Tounoin our reliable permanent conductor in Fujimi, he’s also the assistant conductor of the M-Kyo Symphony Orchestra — and there he’s also expected to live up to the promise of his talent. The proof of that is how, when the administration of the M-Kyo found out Kei had applied for the conducting section of the Tokyo Music Competition, they gave him two weeks off in the summer before the finals — after he already had his schedule set — as ‘encouragement’ for helping him win the competition. This was done as a courtesy, but for the recipient, it meant the pressure was on. He had to at least place in the top of the finals if he wanted to show his face at the M-Kyo again… and of course they were expecting him to win the first prize.

Maybe that’s why Kei’s insomnia, which had been getting better for a while, seems to have come back. His habit of sleeping with me in his arms, like a nervous child with a stuffed animal, is still ongoing. It has to be because he’s under too much pressure, being Fujimi’s musical mentor, the star of M-Kyo, living up to his own ambitions… and on top of that he’s acting as my ‘guardian.’ I’m almost twenty-four and I have my hands full just taking care of myself, and he’s a half-year younger than me. I have to do something about it before he destroys himself… but the only thing I can do is try to be less of a burden on him — and that’s a sensitive issue.

For example, if I told him directly to just take care of himself and not worry about me, Kei would get hurt, right? Because for him, acting as my guardian is an expression of love, so if I refuse him… of course he’s not the type to superficially misinterpret meanings, but even if I tell him not to feel hurt it wouldn’t do any good. And if I explained my reasoning, that it was out of concern for him, I’m sure he would be even more hurt. Kei’s a proud man, and that pride seems to be what drives him; sometimes people’s ‘concern’ can be quite damaging to one’s pride.

Even if it’s done with good intentions, knowing that somebody is worried about you can cause you to rebel against them, because you wonder if you seem so weak as to need their help. I’ve had that feeling before… it’s probably an instinctive reaction, knowing that ‘offense is the best defense,’ so you take it out on other people. Attacking first out of hurt makes sense, since having people see your weakness and making them question your ability to take care of yourself hurts your pride. In my case, if it’s at a critical moment where I could win or lose against myself, it bothers me the most. When you’re struggling to keep your pride together, this kind of ‘help’ can have the same effect as pouring cold water on a baked enamel pot — cracking it so badly that it isn’t usable anymore. My enamel-thin pride cracked once when Kei’s concern poured water on it, but fortunately he was able to repair it… but what if that happened to Kei?

Now that I’ve thought about it more, I don’t think I can actually say what I want to him. But it’s still true that Kei shouldn’t be under so much pressure… so what should I do? Please, somebody give me a clue here! Tell me! --

Fujimi has rehearsal every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday night from 7pm to 9pm, and that night we went to the main conference room of the Civic Center as always. For me this was crunch time, as the first round of the Nippon was less than a month away; for Kei, the day after tomorrow was the second round of the Tokyo Competition, and the third round would be on Monday.

“What are you going to do?”

“About what?”

“Rehearsal for Fujimi.”

“I’m going, of course.” 

He said it as if there were no question that he would. Kei and I are alike when it comes to that; if you take Fujimi away from me the only thing left would be an unemployed person obsessed with the violin. And Kei loves and cherishes Fujimi as his own special orchestra. So we went to rehearsal like we always do, the only difference being that Kei usually only comes to the second half, but tonight he was there from the beginning. He sat in the chair next to me, for once holding something other than a conductor’s baton in his hand. People came in through the door in groups of three or four, and all of them acted surprised at the sight, but Igarashi-kun’s reaction was the most dramatic. 

He came in with a cheerful ‘Heyo!’ and I looked at him but didn’t say anything, so I thought (oh, he didn’t notice?)

But as he went to take his cello out of the case, he suddenly realized, spun around, and shouted, “CONDUCTOR?!” His mind was everywhere but on the cello; fortunately he’d left it in the case, otherwise it probably would have fallen or he’d have knocked it over, and then there’d be no escaping the repair fees.

“What the heck! What’s going on? What happened? Don’t tell me you slipped up at the Tokyo International Competition and now you’ve switched to violin?!” he babbled, then clamped his mouth shut and added, “I’m joking, joking, totally joking!!”

“I can’t very well stand for you saying that,” Kei glanced at Igarashi-kun with his best poker face. “To atone for your gaffe, I’d like you to play a game with me.”

“Huh? Umm…”

As Igarashi-kun stared blankly at him, Kei raised the violin in his hand to his shoulder in a calm and composed gesture and played one of our scale exercises: do-re-mi, do-re-mi-fa-re-mi-fa-so-mi-fa-so-la-fa… up and down the scale he went, then lowered the bow. “Let’s see who can play it faster.”

“You’re on!” Igarashi-kun accepted the challenge with wide eyes. “So, what are we betting?”

“A cup of coffee at Mozart’s.”

“OK. Looks like tonight will be on the Conductor, eh?”

“If you’re not careful you’ll lose!” Haruyama-san called out to him. “We already owe him like, three coffees!”

“What? You did it too, Haruyama-san?” Igarashi-kun turned around in surprise to see Ichiyama-san and Utsumi-san raising their hands. 

“He beat me, too.”

“And me!”

“Okay, I’m gonna get everybody’s share back.”

“Even if you’re motivated, you’ll still fail just like I did.” Ichiyama-san teased.

Kei waited for Igarashi-kun to finish tuning, then said, “Morimura-san, please give us the count-off.”

“Sure thing.” This was my fourth time doing this. I stood a bit away so they could see my hands, then held them up in the starting position. “Igarashi-kun, I’m going to give a ‘ready-go’ in an andante and then you play on beat three. Ready?”

“Is the andante the Conductor’s andante?”

“I think so.”

“So then…” Igarashi-kun looked at the ceiling and checked the tempo of Kei’s andante by tapping his toe, then nodded, “Okay.”

“Alright, here it is. Ready… go!” Despite the lack of a starting shot, the two started very cleanly; the violin and cello ran up and down the scale in their own octaves.

“It’s the Conductor!” Ichiyama-san decided.

“I object!” Iida-san — who had arrived without me noticing — contested Ichiyama’s decision. 

Utsumi-san held out an imaginary microphone, “Referee Iida, chime in!”

“Ah… the Conductor did get to the C by a nose, but there was a slip in pitch that I can’t let slide. So as the referee, I say it doesn’t count, and Iga is the winner.”

“Ohh, our first win!”

“That’s what we expect from our hardworking cellist!”

“Now let’s have the winner’s interview with Iga-kun, our gold star hero.”

“Raah, raah, so fast! Raaah, the crowd goes wild!”

“Thank you very much everyone.” 

The burst of laughter lingered for a moment. After that, Kei was challenged by the flutist Kawashima-san and ended up owing her a cup of coffee, and then got a cup back from the horn player Kotani-san. Sora-kun also wanted to try his luck, but was turned down because he didn’t have money to buy coffee. 

All of this happened because I’d suggested that he play the Amati copy. Since Kei used to play the violin — and could still play quite well— I thought it might be a good distraction for him; I remembered him saying sometimes he was jealous of us instrumentalists. The results seemed to be good. Kei has no other hobbies besides music, but since that’s both his job and the thing he studies, listening to CDs when he relaxes often leads him back into ‘study mode.’ Everybody needs time for pure relaxation… So playing the violin gives Kei a means to do that. By now it’s been almost a month since Kei started playing violin, right after I switched to using the ‘Mahoroba.’ There were plenty of days where he didn’t play because it wasn’t like he had to practice, but whenever he did he seemed happy and relaxed. 

Bringing his ‘hobby violin’ to Fujimi tonight was mostly just to be silly, but was also a playfully calculated way for the conductor to casually encourage the orchestra members. A lot of them must be struggling with summer fatigue due to the continuous heat wave and sweltering tropical nights, since in the last few rehearsals it’s obvious they’ve been a bit lazy with their practice. And then the ten-day summer Obon holidays are coming up soon… most of the members won’t touch their instruments that entire time, so after the holiday they’ll be in very rough shape. 

Of course Fujimi is a community orchestra, not a professional one, so if they fall a bit they usually can just pick up from where they land… but things are a little different this year. After August we’ll be on a countdown to Friday, September 22nd, when Fujimi will be the pit orchestra for a ballet performance. The program is just excerpts from The Nutcracker, but that’s more than enough work for Fujimi; we don’t want the orchestra to drag the ballerinas down. And now, when the performance date is looming closer and becoming more real, there’s going to be a lull in rehearsals. If we go through the summer holidays without doing anything, what will happen when the deadline comes? If we fail, it’s not us, but rather the ballet company that asked us to perform that will be embarrassed. So this was a serious matter. What’s more, one of the company’s prima ballerinas is Kei’s younger sister, the beautiful yet terrifying Miss Tounoin.

So as Conductor and Concertmaster, we came to the conclusion that we needed to whip the members into shape before summer vacation, and that was with Kei’s little violin competition game. The do-re-mi-do-re-mi-fa-la we use as a warmup is a basic technique exercise, and I always use it to loosen up my fingers before I start practicing. It can act as a barometer of my condition that day, or a preparatory exercise, or a refresher for the fingers, so I think that if this is the only thing everybody plays diligently over vacation, the performance level won’t drop too much when they come back. Well, that was the idea, anyway; the hook was having Kei play the game, since everyone would be surprised by it and be more likely to get on board. 

I noticed the clock was approaching eight and decided to call it quits on the fun and games when Kei said, “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“So then, have you and Morimura-sempai gone up against each other?” Igarashi-kun asked Kei, and I denied it with a forced smile. “Yeah, if you lost, that means you’d have to give up your concertmaster seat to Tounoin-san, right?”

Sometimes I take jokes like that the wrong way, but I felt better when he responded with good-natured laughter. So I indulged Igarashi-kun and his friends who were trying to get a rise out of me, “I’m sorry, there’s no way I’d let myself lose, so I’m not gonna go easy on you!”

“Be my guest.”

After we exchanged challenges, Kei and I readied our violins; mine is the ‘Mahoroba’ that I’m borrowing from the female violinist Sumie Tokita, and Kei’s is the copy of an Amati that I had used until I switched to the ‘Mahoroba.’

“Well then, let’s go!” I gave a nod of approval to Igarashi-kun, who had agreed to be the starter. At the same time, I felt the weight of the violin firmly held under my chin begin to aggravate the stiffness in my left shoulder. Even though chronic stiff shoulders are basically the fate of a violinist, it’s not unusual for it to be worse right after changing instruments. But as your body adapts to the new instrument, the feeling becomes less and less. Only this time, for some reason the stiffness showed no sign of abating. I’ve been playing on this instrument for a while, telling myself ‘I’ll get used to it’ since I fell in love with its tone — but I’m starting to wonder if you can ever get used to an instrument that just doesn’t fit your body. It’s been almost a month now, but my shoulders and neck are still as stiff as when I first started using it; as the days passed it sometimes aches so much that I have trouble sleeping.

Despite that, I was so in love with the sound of this violin that I didn’t want to give it up even if I had to suffer. So I continued to use it, telling myself that eventually I would be able to play it without pain. Looking back though, I was just asking for an injury, the reward for trying to force an unrequited love without realizing I’d already been rejected.

I heard Igarashi-kun give the ‘ready, go’ and began to play. The speed of playing to win this competition depended entirely on how fast I could move my fingers over the strings; when I’d said, ‘There’s no way I can lose’ it was supposed to be more of a joke, but apparently I believed it more than I expected. Even if Kei’s pretty good, he’s not a professional violinist, so if I don’t win by a wide margin… I won’t feel like I actually won. This stupidity made me even more determined to win, but I didn’t realize that until afterward.

The tempo that was given was andante, but the speed I started playing at on the downbeat was, of course, allegrissimo. To allow the left hand maximum freedom, I clamped the violin firmly between my shoulder and my chin, letting my fingers dance across the fingerboard as fast as possible. They ran up the zigzag progression of the scale to the second and third octaves and turned back around after reaching the highest note. Kei did his best to follow me, but of course he was far behind; I heard him still on the ascending scale when I was already running down to the ending ‘do’ (the starting and finishing point), going even faster than I’d begun.

so-fa-mi-so-fa-mi-re-fa… that’s where I was when I felt a sharp pain in my left shoulder. I ignored it and kept going, but the consequence of that came almost immediately.

Gekk! It almost sounded like it made a noise, and at the same time a searing pain went through my left hand and froze it midair. And then— the violin was gonna fall! I quickly dropped my bow and grabbed the neck of the instrument with my right hand. Carefully I removed it from my shoulder and handed it to Igarashi-kun. I could feel my left arm aching intensely just from putting it down. “I’m borrowing this, so… could you put it in the case…”

“Y-yes!”

“Iga-kun, take the bow, too.”

“No problem.”

I noticed all the eyes in the room were on me now, waiting with bated breath to see what would happen after the scene I made. 

“Ahah…that’s too bad,”I smiled back. “I got so worked up that my fingers cramped.” My intention was to at least get a chuckle out of them, but everyone looked at each other in shock and the atmosphere in the room had dropped from spectacle to serious. 

“Is it really just a cramp?”

“Yeah, yeah. It was just a cramp, that’s it.”

“You must have injured the muscle then?”

“No, it’s not that bad.”

“Gotou-san, have a look at him.”

“I’ll do my best—”

“Please don’t say anything scary.”

Kei pushed through the people around me, standing in front of me and looking down from 192cm above my head. His back bent down suddenly like a mechanical doll, and his right hand flew out and cracked against my cheek.

“T-Tounoin-san?!” Kawashima-san yelled in protest.

Kei quietly replied, “That’s my punishment.” He looked around at the crowd of people. “Does anybody know of a good orthopedic doctor or chiropractor that would be able to examine him now? It doesn’t matter how far away they are.”

“There’s a Dr. Tamaki in 1-chome who does chiropractic.” Hasegawa-san, the butcher, suggested.

“How good are they?” Kei asked.

“I’ve heard they’re good.”

“Yeah, no, they’re recommended by our school athletic department, so I’m sure they’re good.” Kaizuka-san added, since he’s a school teacher. “They do sports medicine, so they know what they’re doing.”

“Do you have their phone number?”

Hasegawa-san ran to the office to check the phone book. 

I looked at the clock on the wall. “Tounoin-san, it’s time for rehearsal to start…”

Kei gave me a sharp look for a moment, then turned away. “Iida-kun, please take my place.”

“As conductor? Okay.”

For some reason, I felt relieved to hear Kei’s request and Iida’s reply. But I didn’t need a chaperone… “I can go to the doctor on my own.” Kei shouldn’t come with me.

“I can’t allow that.” He insisted, saying, “Whatever the diagnosis, I need to hear it with my own ears, otherwise I’ll be too anxious to compete.”

I bit my lip. Yes, the mistake I made was twofold: one was my lack of self-management, which made Kei feel responsible for what happened. This shoulder pain was my fault, not Kei’s, but he blames himself because he’s the closest person to me and didn’t notice it. The slap was as much a punishment for himself as it was for me. And then second — what day is today? It’s August third, so the day after tomorrow will be the fifth, which is when Kei has the second round of the competition. That qualifying round is only two days away, and he can’t afford to lose no matter what!

How stupid could I be? Instead of lightening the pressure on him, since he’s nervous but doesn’t want to let on that he is, I’m depressing him… pulling him down, dragging him, making a stupid mistake like this!! I should have known within a day that this violin wasn’t right for me. No matter how good it sounded, if I couldn’t play it comfortably there’s no point, I should have given up on it right away! But then I continued to be indecisive until I hurt my shoulder like this, and now I’m causing so much trouble for everyone…

“Conductor! I called them!” Hasegawa-san shouted. “I also called a cab. It’s located off the national highway at 1-chome. You turn from the post office, then um… from there go right. Take the second or third alley to the left, and you’ll see the sign on the corner. You’ll know when you get there. The sign is ‘Tama-jo’ written with the characters for ‘Jade’ and ‘Osaka Castle.’ I gave them the Concertmaster’s name.”

Just as promptly as Hasegawa-san gave Kei directions, Goutou-san took care of me, “No, don’t bend your elbows. Hold your wrist with your right hand and lift it up. That’s right. The basic rule is not to move the injured part right now. Is this length okay?” Instead of a triangular sling bandage, he hung my arm from a sash made by tying together handkerchiefs borrowed from some of the members. “Hold it in place with your right hand. Ah, it’s less painful that way, right?”

Everyone saw me off as we left the rehearsal room. Kei carried both of the violin cases for me. --

Yasubushin Tamaki Seitai Rheumatology Clinic had the look of an old-fashioned doctor’s office. It was a cheaply built building with a square facade, and of course the inside was painted an impersonal white. On the wall there were a few posters, one with diagrams of back pain exercises and another showing types of fractures with x-ray examples. 

Unexpectedly, Tamaki-san was a woman. She looked like she was somewhere between her late thirties and early forties. It was hard to tell because her face didn’t have a bit of makeup and her athletic figure implied that she had gone into sports medicine because of her own experience as an athlete.

“Yes, what seems to be the problem?” The doctor sat me down on the exam table, removed the emergency sling, and took off my shirt. “I’m going to palpitate some areas, so let me know if it hurts. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s tenderness.” As she said that, she placed her hand on my left shoulder and looked at Kei, who was acting as my attendant. Her hands were dry and cold. “Um, was this caused by a musical instrument?”

“Yes. He’s a violinist.” Kei answered before I could say anything.

“Okay, so you’re a violinist, eh…” There was little pain as she touched my shoulder, arms, and back. “I’m going to try and move you around, so ah, be prepared.” Bending my elbows was no problem, but the moment she lifted my upper arm…

“Gahh!!”

“Oh, I see…”

“Ach, that hurts!”

“Okay, I know, I know.”

“How does it feel?” Kei’s voice was so low it was almost on the floor.

“It’s a bit sore.”

“I know that.”

“At this point, you’re not going to be able to lift your arm for a while.”

“What… do you mean by ‘a while?’”

“How long will it take?!”

“I’d say it’ll take about three weeks to heal.”

“Three weeks!? You’re kidding! That’ll be right before the competition!”

Kei stepped closer, “Isn’t there anything you can do for him now?”

“There is…“ Dr. Tamaki said. “At least, it’ll make it possible for you to pick up the violin by tomorrow...”

“Then please do it!” Kei and I unintentionally said in unison.

“Well then, let me get a consent form.”

“Is it a surgical procedure?!”

“I don’t have to make an incision, no.”

“Then why do you need a consent form?”

“Because it hurts quite a bit.” Dr. Tamaki said coolly. “Men have a lower pain tolerance, so you might even faint. I don’t want my bill rejected because you accuse me of causing injury.”

“I understand. I’ll sign it.”

“Can your oniichan sign one as well? As a witness affirming that the treatment was justified?”

Kei and I looked at each other. What kind of treatment was this, that she’s being so cautious…? But what choice did we have, if the only other option was giving up on the competition. We each signed our name and put our addresses on our respective consent forms.

“Oh, you live together?”

“Us?”

“Oh, I think I misread it? But you live in the same building.”

“Yes, the sixth and seventh floors.” My address was still technically for the apartment downstairs.

“That’s convenient. We don’t have any facilities to keep patients overnight here.” Hearing the doctor utter those dreadful words made me imagine something terrible.

“I can take him home, even if I have to carry him.” Kei encouraged my horrible imagination even more… pain… to the point of fainting… or enough to need an overnight stay?! I’m afraid to think of how bad this is gonna be. God and Buddha give me strength!

“Let’s go ahead and do it, then!”

Gah! “Aren’t you going to do an x-ray?”

“No, nerves and muscles don’t show up on those.”

“Ahh… what about anesthesia?”

“If I use that then I can’t do the procedure. Let’s see — Morimura-kun, was it? You can scream if you want, but make sure you grit your teeth, you don’t want to bite your tongue.”

“O-okay.”

“Um, and as for you over there…”

“Me?”

“Since you’re not doing anything, I’d like you to help me. If you could, go behind Morimura-kun at the end of the bed where he’s sitting. You’re pretty tall, so can you kneel? Support Morimura-kun’s back with your body, then grab his right shoulder with your left hand and his right elbow with your right hand. You seem strong, so make sure to hold him tightly.”

The moment Kei grabbed me as instructed, I felt my heart begin to pound violently and my body froze in fear; apparently it was obvious on my face as well.

“It’s just a muscle strain, it won’t hurt as much as setting a bone.”

Oh, ah… really? Hearing the words ‘just a strain’ and ‘won’t hurt’ made me breathe a sigh of relief. 

The doctor’s bony hand gripped my left wrist. “Okay, relax.”

Her grip felt like a man’s, and I relaxed the wrist she was holding. The doctor glanced at Kei, who was supporting my back, and I felt him tense slightly. But the next moment—! I felt a sharp pain explode in my left shoulder, and it seemed like bright red light flashed in front of my eyes… and the pain didn’t stop!

“Hold him tight!!”

S-stop! Stop, damn it!! Owww!!

--

I knew I’d fainted when I heard the sound of mid-conversation without context, like the moment you turn on a radio. It was Dr. Tamaki who was talking, “…if the tight muscles are compressing the nerves, and then they’re suddenly used and it triggers the compressed area, you get this kind of violent attack.”

It seemed like she was explaining the symptoms to Kei.

“Oh, you’re awake now?” The tone of her voice changed. I was lying on the exam bed. “Then we can continue.” She noticed that I stiffened involuntarily and laughed, “Don’t worry, it’s just a massage this time. Okay, flip over face-down.”

My whole body was still on guard, but what she began to do really was just a massage. When she pushed into a pressure point it made me wince a little, but that was about it.

As she moved her hands, the doctor said, “I was telling him that your stiffness is stress-related.”

“Yeah… the violin I’ve been using isn’t suited to my body.” I admitted.

“No, I don’t think that’s the problem,” she replied. “If that’s the case, you should be able to solve it by changing shoulder rests or something.”

Ooh, there… that’s the spot… “I tried that, but the tension in my shoulders didn’t get better.”

“Hmm, is it one of the violins you brought with you?”

“Yeah.”

She fell silent, and I was so absorbed in the feeling of the stiffness in my body massaged away that I almost dozed off… it was wonderful.

“Okay, that’s it!” I woke up to a tap on my shoulder along with a voice saying ‘Thank you very much’ as I got up. “Um, before you put on your shirt, let’s take a look at the violin,” the doctor said. “I’d like to see if that’s what caused the problem, so just hold it the way you usually do when you play.”

I thought to myself that it was none of her business since I already knew the cause, but I wasn’t going to argue with the doctor since she’s the professional. I took out the ‘Mahoroba’ and assumed a playing position.

The doctor looked at me carefully and said, “Hmm, your shoulders and arms don’t seem too tight, do they?”

What? “They’re not?”

“Do you feel tense or sore in any way?”

What…? Huh? My left shoulder doesn’t hurt at all, and the bad tension in my muscles that I usually feel every time I pick up the violin is gone. But that’s probably because… “You just massaged me, so it seems fine.”

“OK. Then stand there in the position for five minutes.”

“Seems a little boring. I might as well play something.”

“Oh, then I’ll let him watch the clock while I go make some tea.”

I played the “Mahoroba” for five minutes, after which the doctor came back and asked how my shoulder felt while she palpitated it.

“Yeah, it seems okay so far.” I said.

“I don’t see any signs of strain or tension, so I still don’t think the violin is the cause.”

“It’s hard to tell from only five minutes of playing, though.”

“You’re very stubborn, aren’t you? It’s late, so go home tonight, take a bath and get a good night’s sleep. Practice as usual tomorrow, then come back after to let me see how things look. We’ll find out then, won’t we?”

I noticed that it was nearly 11pm. “Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to keep you here so late.”

“It’s no problem. Please take care of yourself.”

Since I was coming back tomorrow and there was no receptionist to take the money, the doctor put the charge for the treatment on an account to settle tomorrow. -- On the way home, Kei was sullen and silent. No— he’d been like that since we were at the clinic. The reason, of course, was because he was angry at me for messing up like this. So as soon as we got back to the apartment, I apologized, “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you with my stupid sore shoulders, and I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of managing myself. I owe everybody at Fujimi an apology, too. I’m embarrassed that I caused such a scene. I really am an idiot…”

Kei was quick to respond with, ‘That’s not true’ or ‘it’s good that it wasn’t that bad,’ but it all seemed like hollow politeness and I felt dismayed.

“Well, um, can you please not mention anything about me fainting during the treatment?” I ended the conversation on such a pathetic note, then went to get my violin out; I was hoping to get a little practice in while I still felt good.

“Don’t!” Kei scolded.

“I’m just going to do about thirty minutes…”

“You shouldn’t do that. You should follow Ms. Tamaki’s instructions.”

Internally I replied, ‘It’s just a matter of time…’

“But I was only going to play a little bit.” I insisted.

Kei’s unrelenting eyes narrowed. “Writhing in pain and being forcefully subdued by me must be quite an exciting experience for you, eh?” His voice had a sadistic edge, but I could tell he meant the opposite; it was harder for Kei to do that than for me to endure it, as he took no pleasure in forcing me to experience pain. 

“I’m sorry…” I apologized, but I knew words weren’t enough, so I also proffered a kiss, which he accepted.

I’d intended to go straight to bed, but Kei drove me to the bathtub like a stern nurse and then ordered me to go to bed immediately after I’d finished soaking. That night Kei didn’t embrace me; we slept in the double bed as if it were two singles, though we weren’t blatantly on opposite sides of it. I felt in my heart that he must be very upset with me. On the other hand, it had been a long time since I’d been able to sleep comfortably… call me an inconsiderate bastard, but it felt so nice that I fell sound asleep in an instant.

The next morning, I found a small empty pill bottle in the kitchen wastebasket. It wasn’t mine, so it must have been Kei’s. I wonder what medicine it was? I picked up the container and put it in my bag; I’d look up the name from the symbols and numbers on it later. 

The stiffness that had been haunting my shoulders was completely gone thanks to Dr. Tamaki’s treatment; what a blessing it was to have relaxed shoulders again! I energetically made breakfast and sat at the table with Kei, who had woken up later than usual. He still seemed to be in a bad mood, so I decided to try and make up with him by asking for his advice, “What do you think about the violin situation? Should I stop using the ‘Mahoroba’?”

Kei looked up from silently eating his meal and said, “According to Ms. Tamaki’s judgment, you don’t need to?” He acted like he didn’t know why I’d bothered asking.

“Well, even if that’s what she thinks—“

“She asserted that your shoulder stiffness must have started before that.” Kei interrupted me before I could say anything more, and the conviction in his tone sounded like he wanted to end the conversation there. “I think we can trust her judgment, don’t you?”

“Well, but—“

“For now, why don’t you just try playing the ‘Mahoroba’ today? Since you’ll be seeing the doctor this evening.”

“Well…okay.” Just when my shoulders felt so relaxed… it would suck to have them go back to feeling bad again. On the other hand, if it was really safe to use the ‘Mahoroba’ then of course that would be better… 

I decided to try practicing on it before my lesson with Fukuyama-sensei. And actually I didn’t feel any discomfort: shoulders, OK. Neck, OK. But, well, I’d only played on it for two hours, so it’s still too early to draw a conclusion. I went back and forth over which instrument to take to my lesson, but ultimately decided on the ‘Mahoroba.’ If I still felt OK after a hard lesson playing it, that meant I could stick with it. If not, I’d just switch back to the Amati copy. Yeah, Yuuki, good idea. --

Now that the violin problem was solved, on the way to Fukuyama-sensei’s house in Daikanyama I completely concentrated on figuring out a strategy to deal with the Kaoruko Sanjo situation. I wanted a way to convince sensei to drop her without making a scene, but nothing I came up with seemed like it’d work since I’m not exactly persuasive. So in the end, I decided my only option was to speak my mind right when I went through the door.

“Ahahaha!” I heard the sound of people laughing. ”So then he said, ‘No, come on, I can’t with you!’” The laughing voice was Kaoruko Sanjo, and I immediately thought they were talking about me.

Fukuyama-sensei has several students who he’s known since they were kids (Kaoruko Sanjo is one of them), and they all seem to feel completely at home in his house. I’ve met a few, but I always felt uncomfortable around them. So, from their perspective, I seem like an outsider… and that’s true. People who studied with a teacher since childhood, compared to me who only studied with them for four years in college, have a different sense of camaraderie and familiarity. So it’s only natural that we’re distant from each other, and it didn’t really bother me.

But I was annoyed that she would make fun of me in a group like that. I took off my shoes, walked down the hallway, and put my hand on the doorknob of the lesson room.

“They asked me, ‘Are you an okama?’” I stopped abruptly when I heard Kaoruko’s voice. “‘I mean, your pants kind of look like a skirt, and you’re wearing makeup.’”

I’ve never worn pants that looked like a skirt, and definitely no makeup. So I guess they weren’t talking about me? I turned the knob and opened the door. Several faces turned to look at me.

As usual, Kaoruko had tamed herself. Her hair was as yellow as ever, but she didn’t have her piercings in, and her clothes were more respectable than what she wore at home. She glanced pointedly at the clock on the wall — hmph, I’m not late!

“Sensei went out.” Kaoruko said.

“Huh?”

“He said he had something urgent to do, but he’ll be back before 4pm.”

I thought, ‘Guess I’ll come back, then…’ 

I was about to leave when I heard, “Well, guess we’ll head home.” The group of people started to get up before I could turn around. “Do your best, Kao-chan.”

“Don’t let the old man’s poison tongue get to you!”

“Confidence! Confidence!”

They all left the house quickly, leaving their words of encouragement. Kaoruko and I were left alone.

“Welp, let’s get to it.” Kaoruko headed to the piano.

“I’d rather not, thanks,” I said. “I’ll come back when sensei returns.”

“You’re gonna hang around outside in this heat?”

‘It’s better than being in here with you…’ I thought to myself. I pushed my glasses up, which were slipping from the sweat I’d worked up walking here. “I’ll be straight with you, I’ve decided to ask to switch accompanists. I’d sooner not do the competition than keep playing with you.” The words came out easily, and I was pleased with myself.

“Heh, so you’re running away?” Kaoruko’s lips twisted into a sarcastic smile.

“You can think whatever you want.” I snapped back.

“I guess you’ve got no balls, obacchama.”

“I’m a farm boy, so I don’t remember being raised like a prince. Anyway, thanks for coming today. You might as well go home.”

“A geek like you is kicking me out?!”

“This is my lesson time, not yours.”

“You think you can get away with that…” Kaoruko glared at me sharply, but I just shrugged. Come to think of it, I realized that I’d never felt ‘scared’ of this woman, even when she glared or cursed at me. 

“I’ll pay you for today, though I’m just a jobless freelancer, so depending on how much it is I might have to pay you in installments.“

“Stop talking bullshit.” Kaoruko spit out.

I know what I’m talking about… “I’ll tell sensei and if he chews me out, so be it. Or if he kicks me out of his studio…”

“Yeah, he might.”

“It’s still better than continuing a relationship with somebody who does nothing but fight with me.”

“I… get it. Let’s talk about it then.” It was the first concession Kaoruko had made.

“There’s no need to, right?” I refused. “You’re just getting in the way of my practice time, so please go home.”

“I see.” Kaoruko murmured. “So this is the real face of the ‘stubborn Echigo guy’ that gave the old man such a hard time, eh?”

“It’s pointless to try and provoke me.” I opened my case, rosined my bow and started to tune the violin. I took the A from the piano and finished tuning it by fifths.

“Fine, I’ll leave, but give me five minutes.” I heard Kaoruko say.

“What for?” I answered back.

“If you really want to be a professional, you should listen to what I have to say.” Unlike her usual haughty attitude, Kaoruko actually sounded rather humble right now. But I didn’t want to be fooled by her, so I was still hesitant.

“I’ll give you exactly five minutes.” I nodded, but that meant I had lost.

“Let’s step out for a minute. I can’t smoke in this room.”

“Isn’t that a hassle? Why don’t you just quit?”

“If I did that, I’d die from the stress.”

When Kaoruko said ‘step out’ she really meant outside; we managed to find a little shade in the eaves of the house. Kaoruko crouched down in her skater clothes and immediately lit a cigarette, Lark brand. White smoke rose lazily in the midsummer afternoon sun, and the miiin miiin of the cicadas somehow made it seem hotter.

“Since I only have five minutes, I have to be brief. So I’m going to ask you directly,” Kaoruko took another drag off her cigarette. “Are you still a virgin, or is your partner a man?”

I didn’t expect her to say something like that out of the blue. It caught me completely off guard… “Wha—?”

“I don’t care either way,” Kaoruko continued, “I’m asking because if a geek like you is gay and a bottom, you might not get it when I tell you to be ‘aggressive.’ That’s what I want to talk about, so are you willing to listen?”

“You’re right, my partner is a man, and I am a bottom.” I really dared to tell her that. But I think I did it because of the way we’ve been interacting this whole time, always as confrontational as possible, and since we’re going to part ways I don’t care what she thinks of me.

Kaoruko let out a puff of smoke, unsurprised. “I knew it… you can really hear it in your sound, you know? You didn’t look it, but I had a feeling you were gay. I just wasn’t sure.”

“So now that you’ve confirmed it, what does that have to do with anything? You think I have a ‘gay’ sound?”

“No, it’s a feminine sound.”

“Feminine?”

“Yes. Your approach to playing is like a woman, you know what I mean? You don’t.” Kaoruko didn’t wait for a reply, just assumed and kept going. “If there’s one difference between a man and a woman, it’s basically their different roles of ‘giving’ and ‘receiving’ in sex. Even if a woman is very masculine, she has no choice but to be passive when it comes to having sex. No matter how you do it, even if she’s on top, she’s always the one ‘receiving’ and the man is always the one entering. That’s the way our bodies are fundamentally built. 

So that’s why my teacher told me, ‘You can be a pianist or a woman, but you have to choose.’ Does that make sense? In other words, you can’t be a pianist if you take the role of the ‘woman,’ whose absolute position is always passive. My teacher told me that if I wanted to be a pianist — or really, a musician — I had to get rid of the female aspect of myself. So I did. I abandoned that part of me.

You can’t make the music your own if you just enjoy it passively. Of course there is a way to do that, but that’s for listeners who are satisfied with that alone. If that’s enough, you don’t need to bother being on the performance side, just put a CD on and get off on that. So, that’s all I wanted to say. Oh, sorry, I think I went over time.”

I stopped Kaoruko as she stood up, but then I didn’t know what I wanted to say. I found myself confronted with a problem so big, so deep and heavy, that I was at a loss for words.

“No, forget it. It’s nothing.” Yes, I decided not to stop her after all. 

Just as we were going back to the lesson room, the hallway door opened and the lady of the house appeared. “Your teacher called and said the errand was taking longer than expected, so he would like to reschedule your lesson for next Wednesday. I’m sorry, would that be okay?”

“Yes, of course.” I replied. 

After I put my violin away and Kaoruko Sanjo cleaned up the scores that were scattered about, we both walked out together — or maybe Sanjo-san had waited for me. As soon as we stepped out the front door, she whispered to me, “I’m not telling you to break up with your man,” she stopped and looked around. “But if you want to win, you have to stop being a woman until the competition is over. That’s the truth.” 

With that, we went our separate ways. I listened to the click-clack of her heels, like a maiko’s geta, as she walked off.

No, it doesn’t matter. It was still just as hot as it had been at midday, so the sweat poured out of me even standing still. Slowly I started to walk away. Don’t be a woman… don’t be a woman… That was a new and shocking perspective I’d never noticed or even given any thought… maybe she was right. But I had no intention of taking her word at face value. I didn’t like it, but I understood what she meant… A thought came to me and a feeling swelled up inside, gripping tightly around my heart — I really wanted to talk to someone about this, but there wasn’t a single person in the world I could go to.

I couldn’t talk to Kei because he was a ‘man.’ If I asked him for advice I’m sure he’d work through it with me, but I felt like this was a problem Kei couldn’t understand even if he tried. As for female musicians, I guess I could say I knew Sumie Tokita-san, the person who was lending me the ‘Mahoroba,’ but I wasn’t close enough to her to talk about such personal things. Even before I could get to that part I’d have to tell her about the relationship between me and Kei…it was unavoidable if I wanted to talk about this situation with her, but I couldn’t do that, either.

If I wanted to take the plunge, there’s usually nothing I couldn't talk to Nico-chan about. But even though Fujimi's caretaker, ‘uncle’ Nico-nico, already knows about my relationship with Kei… I still probably couldn’t talk to him about it. Ishida Nico-chan is also a man, and — I hate to say it — but unless he can talk about music at an equal or higher level than me it would be useless discussing it with him.

So those are all the people I could think of off the top of my head… only three. But now that Kaoruko brought this up, it’s something that could affect every aspect of my life, including the future of Kei and my relationship, and my potential as a musician… it was like a wall had been erected in front of me, and I felt completely isolated and helpless before it. I thought about it— I had no choice but to think about it. The only option was for me to think for myself and find the answer. And… until I figured this out, there was no point in participating in the competition. Because if what Kaoruko said was right, I could never become a musician as long as I was a ‘woman’… and then how would I be able to compete against all those skilled and talented musicians? With my eyes down I plodded on, my head nonchalantly bobbing in time with my steps.

I was about to turn the corner in front of the apartment building when an idea came to me. I turned back towards the main road and raised my hand to the red light of an empty taxi cab coming towards me. --

I had come to see the Master, who I recalled used to work in the M-Kyo. The classical music pub Ototsubo still had the ‘closed’ sign up. I hesitated, but then pushed on the door; it was unlocked. I heard some noise coming from the kitchen, like someone was preparing food. I managed to quietly step inside and sneak a peek into the kitchen where three staff members were working to prepare things before the restaurant opened for the evening. The Master was nowhere to be seen.

One of the staff noticed me when he looked up, “Oh, sorry, we’re still getting ready.”

“Yes. Um, is the Master…”

“Uhh, he should be here soon.”

“I see. Could I wait for him?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

I chose the least conspicuous table in the back. I sat down and began to think with my elbows on the table, resting my still-damp, sweaty forehead on my interlaced fingers. Question one: Is it fair to say that one’s position in sex has an equal influence on their approach to music? Question two: If that’s true, then would I be forced to choose between music and Kei? And question three: if I have to choose…which one would I give up…?

For right now I was putting the first question on hold. That was why I was here, to get the Master’s opinion on it. The second question depended on the answer to the first, so there wasn’t any point in thinking about it. Then there’s the third question… and I didn’t want to think about that one; I couldn’t come up with an answer for that either. If I chose Kei, I’d have to give up music, my reason for living. But then if I chose music, I would lose the irreplaceable existence of Kei in my life, and also betray the person who loves me as his one and only. 

There was that one night… when I borrowed the ‘Mahoroba’ from Tokita-san. What did I say to Kei? Didn’t I tell him with my own mouth that he was more important to me than music? My mouth went dry… yes, that’s what I said. So that’s it, I already made my choice. If I had to choose between music and Kei, I would choose Kei. I would be his lover before a musician.

If I was ever not good enough as a musician I would put aside the violin… forever! That’s what I had decided. But now… no, that’s why. The reason I was able to boldly declare that to Kei was because I didn’t think I’d ever actually have to choose between them. I promised Kei something I had never really considered, pretending like I had actually thought about it.

‘I choose you over music.’

And Kei… I don’t remember him saying anything in response, but I’m sure he was happy about that. He’s told me many times that he loves me as a musician, but more than that, he loves me as a person.

“Well, guess I have my answer, right?” I murmured to myself, horrified by the bitter tone in my voice. I— guess I still can’t decide…?

I heard a clanking sound and looked up with a start. A tall old man with a dour look on his face — the bar Master — was walking through the door. I got up from my chair, and he noticed me. I realized right then that I actually had nothing to say to him. Yes… this problem was mine alone, and I was the only person who could answer it. Nobody could give me advice.

The Master stared at me from under his bushy eyebrows and said, “The red wine over there is pretty good. I’ll buy you a drink.”

I turned to him and said, “Okay.” In retrospect I realized he only ever sees me at my worst…

The Master actually brought over two bottles of wine, so I couldn’t just sit there and drink it in silence. I tried to casually bring up the situation with Kaoruko telling me to be more ‘aggressive’ to make conversation, “You don’t happen to know a female pianist named Kaoruko Sanjo, do you?”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I’m not familiar with most of the younger set.” He replied.

“She’s the accompanist my teacher chose to replace Ikushima-san, but we were like oil and water from the get-go. She keeps telling me I’m not ‘aggressive’ enough — and not just saying it, yelling it. It really pissed me off. It’s not vague, I know what the word ‘aggressive’ means: she wants me to have a more aggressive interpretation of the piece, right? So that’s why I—“

“No, you don’t understand.” He interrupted me mid-sentence.

“I… don’t?”

“You’re close, but that’s not quite it.”

“Um…”

“If you were shooting a target, you would’ve missed it.”

“Haaa…”

“Instead of calling it ‘aggression’ let’s change it to ‘investigation.’ So then, what are you trying to investigate? Of course you have to pin down your own ‘interpretation’ as you said, because if you don’t know what the composer is trying to say, then you won’t be able to play it. But that’s just the starting point for the performer.”

I stared at the Master’s aged, vaguely hawklike face. 

“The performer must be ‘aggressive’ about the process that follows… that is, can you determine what the composer wants the piece to say, interpret that from the score and convey it to the listener through your violin? The expression that results from an ‘aggressive’ investigation of the piece is what the performer must do.”

He then picked up his wine glass and took a slow sip to moisten his throat. For me it gave me a moment to absorb what he had said so precisely. After drinking, what he said gave me a rough idea of what my problems as a musician were. So…

“When I gave you that ‘special A’ for the Air you played, it was because I could hear how much you’d studied the piece. But maybe I spoke too soon.” I nodded, waiting eagerly for him to continue. “And it’s something that can’t really be taught.”

Wh-what!

“If you play something you’re taught, then it’s merely imitation. Morimura— what’s your first name?”

“Yuuki.”

“There’s only one Yuuki Morimura in the world, and only one ‘Yuuki Morimura’ interpretation. There’s no meaning to what you play if it’s an imitation of someone else — it has to come from you. The only way to make the music your own is to work through it by pushing and refining yourself as an artist.”

“Yes.”

“And isn’t it more fun that way?”

“Yes!”

“And wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could accomplish that for yourself?”

“Yes…!” 

“After all, that’s what being a performer is all about.”

“…yes!” 

I tried to stealthily wipe my eyes that had teared up. I heard the Master say, “Lose yourself, Morimura. Suffer. Struggle until you feel like dying! That’s what all of us have done to come into our own as artists. Give it all you’ve got.”

“…yes.” Then I heard the sound of the Master standing up; I covered my face with my hands, hot tears pouring from my eyes, wetting my palms with their warmth. None of the problems fate had dealt me were resolved, they only became more visible. And now, it felt like the task before me was so heavy, so demanding, that it would be a long time before I could do it… if I even could. And even if I manage to get through it, I’ll have to suffer… can I endure that? Overcoming the pain is the real challenge. 

I will win. I thought to myself. I’m going to win, no matter what! This is my fight, my fight against myself. The spoiled ‘me’ who wants to take it easy and wait for luck to come my way, the weak ‘me’ who immediately looks to others for help. The stupid ‘me’ who doesn’t even notice when I don’t understand something. The vain, uptight ‘me’ who’s so intent on self-preservation that I’ll take any excuse to achieve that, and the dishonest ‘me’ who allows it! I won’t be defeated by such a stupid, pathetic version of myself! No matter how hard it tries, I won’t let it win! 

Once I’d made that decision, I could see that there was only one obstacle in my way. --

The next day, Saturday, I told myself, ‘I’m going to win the Nippon.’ 

I sent Kei off with a kiss and waited for thirty minutes before leaving the apartment. I took the same route as Kei used to get to the hall in Gotanda — the reason, of course, was to see the second preliminary round for the Tokyo Music Competition. Judging by his number, Kei’s performance would be in the afternoon, but I was too restless to accomplish anything at home. 

The assigned pieces for the performance were either Mozart’s Prague or Copland’s El Salon Mexico, and Kei had been given the second movement of the Prague to perform. At the preliminary screening stage, which was a resume and a video, the competition had been ten times more intense than the second round, since one out of three applicants was rejected right off the bat. Then each of the conductors that got to take the stage had to demonstrate the results of their earnest studies. Some succeeded and left the podium proudly, while others left looking disappointed, knowing they had failed. 

All the rounds were open to the public, and the auditorium — which had open seating once you bought a ticket — was almost empty. Only the seats in the front were filled, and judging by appearances it looked like they were the contestants’ relatives; they all looked like teachers, family members, friends, and others who were invested in being there in-person to show their support, instead of waiting to hear the results.

I chose a seat in the middle of the second level, where I could hear the sound better. There were quite a few people in that area, and all of these people seemed like avid classical music concertgoers who were also interested in competitions. Sitting behind me was an elderly couple, who would whisper their impressions of the contestants to each other after each one finished, and their comments were quite spot-on. Despite the presence of these few listeners… the atmosphere of the hall was quiet but tense. That feeling permeated the atmosphere — like being in an exam room — so even if you thought the performance was good, you were afraid to clap for fear of being scolded.

It must be hard for them… I thought. (I don’t care how much they paid me, I wouldn’t want to be the concertmaster of a competition orchestra.) Of course it’s difficult for the participants to be judged in this high-pressure environment, but what I felt more acutely was the tension of the orchestra members who acted as their performance medium. For both conductor and orchestra, the ‘one-shot first impression’ was the same. In the conductors’ case, their failure would only lead to their disqualification… but for the orchestra, if they happen to make a mistake that the conductor isn’t responsible for, they have to take the blame… and more than that, just ‘not making mistakes’ isn’t good enough. In order to ensure that the contestants can be judged properly and fairly, the orchestra must accurately reflect the participants’ directions in their performance. If there are thirty contestants, then the orchestra has to conform to thirty different interpretations with only one short rehearsal, and make it so that their sound reflects each conductor’s individuality.

(It makes me tired just thinking about it! Such a tedious job, with so much pressure to do it right or else you fail everyone.) But as Iida-san and the other M-Kyo members say, ‘That’s how it is in a professional orchestra.’

I was thinking about this from the comfortable position of an audience member when it suddenly occurred to me: performing in an orchestra is different from performing as a soloist. I’m sure I’ve been told this before, so it’s not like it was a revelation… but there’s a difference between knowing something and really comprehending it, in both the impact and effect it has on oneself. Maybe the reason I don’t have the ability to act ‘aggressively’ in my playing is because I’ve always been an orchestral player. The only orchestras I’ve played in have been the university’s student orchestra or Fujimi, but either way, my position has always been ‘orchestral violinist.’ What’s required of me is not to assert myself, but to ‘blend in’ with the other musicians. I’ve always played in a position where I restrain my opinion… there was no concept of being ‘aggressive’ in my own interpretation.

However, it might be a different story if I’d been in a professional orchestra. The conflict between the Berlin Philharmonic and Karajan was, in short, a clash of the orchestra’s will versus the conductor’s. It was a struggle for the conductor to unify and balance the individuality of the musicians, who try to prioritize their own sound. But in both student orchestras and Fujimi, which is just an amateur ensemble, the conductor is still the leader and the orchestra has to follow. In the student orchestra, either the instructor or a senior conducting student led the group. The orchestra members were students that were there to be taught, and followed the implicit rules of seniority, so it was assumed they would follow whatever the conductor said. Although there were occasional disagreements between the student conductors and the players, there was always somebody who would step in to ‘restrain’ the orchestra. Disputes always resulted in reinforcing that the musicians were subservient to the conductor. In Fujimi, the situation is even more conductor-dominated: the ‘teacher’ has always been a professional or semi-professional conductor, and the members look up to them to raise their amateur, inexperienced abilities. In that situation, the sense of ‘conforming’ to the conductor’s interpretation is even stronger than in the student orchestra… in fact, the main problem is whether or not everybody can just keep up with them — and sometimes that’s the only goal. No one dreams of being on the same musical level as the conductor.

And that’s how I’ve come to this point in my playing. Especially in Fujimi, since my position is Concertmaster, my musical attitude has developed accordingly… which is to say, to follow the conductor’s wishes and help pull everyone together. After graduating from the University of Music, if I lorded my ability over the others it would intimidate them… and it wouldn’t be very good for unifying the orchestra if I made everyone feel like the level was so high they couldn’t reach it. The conductor’s position is more of an ‘instructor,’ so they have more freedom to wield their abilities; having an authoritative person in command makes the ensemble feel more secure following them.

However, even though the Concertmaster is technically the leader of the orchestra, it’s useless if they get too far ahead of everyone else, especially if they have to bridge the gap between a conductor that is particularly advanced. The Concertmaster must always be in sync with those following them, acting as a leader that never leaves anyone behind. In order for me to do that in Fujimi, I have to take my level down 4-5 noches (out of 10) to ‘match’ with them. Which is why my relationship with all the conductors Fujimi had — including Kei’s predecessors — was something like a marriage… marital squabbles weren’t an option, as that would only make the members, our ‘children,’ uneasy… so essentially I’ve spent the past five years always suppressing my musical assertiveness and keeping myself in check. The natural consequence of that being, I haven’t mastered the art of ‘aggressive’ music-making, where I put my own demands at the forefront in both interpretation and expression.

So… perhaps that’s the reason. I always had the longing to be a soloist growing deep down… but being in a position where I always had to restrain myself, I just played my part patiently and held onto the idea that ‘someday I’ll play the music the way I want to.’ But when the opportunity came, I didn’t know how to do that — no, I didn’t even recognize that it was the place to do that. What a laugh… jeez, how stupid could I be? No wonder Kaoruko-san was so mad.

After about a dozen contestants had performed, I went out into the lobby, found a phone, and pulled out my telephone card and address book from my pocket.

《Yes, this is Sanjo speaking.》

Hearing Kaoruko-san’s voice, I thought to myself (Thank you).

“This is Morimura, the idiot. I’d like to cancel my cancellation, if it’s not too late?”

《The cancellation fee is double my usual fee.》

“If I could split it and pay you back in installments, I’d be happy to.”

《Oh no, that’s a pain in the ass. Let’s just say you can pay me back with the prize money, and I’ll wait for it.》

“I don’t like to count my chickens, but… okay. If I win, you can take it out of the prize money.”

《Well then, now you have to win, don’t you? Can you come rehearse now?》

“No, right now I’m at the preliminaries for the Tokyo International Competition. My boyfriend is conducting.”

《Which round?》

“The second.”

《Ahh stop worrying, just leave him alone. If he’s not good enough to get through the second round, he’s got no future anyway. And if he’s really got the talent that made you fall in love with him, then he’ll probably get through the second round easily, you know? Right now you should be focusing on yourself.》

“I… I guess so. Then, I’ll head your way after I give him an encouraging kiss.”

《What’s wrong with you?! Stop being such a clingy ditz! Dumbass!》

“Ahahah, excuse me, I have to go now.”

I wasn’t sure if I could get backstage, but when I checked the door was open and people could come and go. I found Kei drinking coffee out of a paper cup in the corner of a large room. I motioned for him to come over into the hallway.

“You’re here?”

“Yeah, but something came up, so I won’t be able to listen to your performance. I’m sorry.”

“Is it an emergency?” Kei’s poker face had an aura of concern, and I smiled.

“Yeah, it was really sudden. I came up with a way to shut down Kaoruko Sanjo, so I need to go to her place right now.”

The look in Kei’s eyes softened, “You figured it out, then?”

“I still just have a general idea,” I said. “But now I have a sense of direction. I know what I need to do.”

“That’s good.” Kei’s expression told me that he’d figured out long ago what I had been missing. Of course he knew. He must have been able to see in the big picture what wall I was hitting; after all, he’s a musical genius with excellent intuition and insight. And even though he knew, he didn’t tell me because it’s something I had to discover for myself. It wouldn’t have solved anything if I only understood it logically, after being told. No, rather, I would have fallen into the pit of thinking I knew what I was doing, but since I wouldn’t have actually known, climbing back out would have been very difficult. After all, you have to know you’re in a pit first before you can do anything about it.

“So, before I go…” I glanced around quickly and lowered my voice. “I thought I’d at least give you a good-luck kiss.”

“Oh really?” Despite the flatness of his voice, I could see a flicker of excitement in his eyes. 

We exchanged ‘do your best’ and ‘yes’ kisses in one of the bathroom stalls… this really stinks! Ahh, such an old-fashioned joke… I have a terrible sense of humor… --

Sanjo-san and I got into it the moment we saw each other.

“What took you so long? How many times did you kiss him?”

I barked back like Pavlov’s dog, “I didn’t even kiss him for two minutes! I had to go home to get my violin!”

“Jeez…” I turned red when I realized why Sanjo-san was giving me a hard time. She started to elaborate, “A kiss that lasted less than two minutes, huh…”

“W-what’s wrong with that?!”

“I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with it. I just figured you’d be better than that.”

I thought about telling her how much I love him, but decided against it. I’ve told her enough as it is.

“And? So he’s a conductor, eh? What’s his name?”

“No comment.”

“Don’t be coy. I’m not interested in gay men.”

“He’s important to me. I don’t want to start any rumors that could damage his career.” I replied gravely, and Sanjo-san rolled her eyes.

She whistled and said, “Oh my god... seriously?”

“Of course! Anyway, I didn’t come here to chit-chat, so if we don’t get started then I’ll just leave.”

“Wow, well then...”

“Let’s start from the top.”

“Alright, let’s get going. OK, you want to stretch or have me massage you first?”

When she said that, I suddenly remembered: I was supposed to go back to Dr. Tamaki’s place yesterday, but I forgot all about it! “Sorry, could I borrow your phone for a minute?”

“It’s over there. Love calls get charged double.”

“It’s the doctor, I forgot to go yesterday.”

“Doctor? Who, the proctologist?”

“You know, you should only forget you’re a woman when you’re playing piano.” I punched in the number, thankful I’d happened to put it in my address book. A man answered the phone. “Oh, excuse me, is Dr. Tamaki working today?”

《This is Tamaki. May I ask who’s calling?》

“Huh? U-um, the person I saw was a woman…”

《Oh, she’s out on a house call.》

This must be her husband. I quickly told him my name and what happened the night before last, that I still needed to pay for my treatment, and apologized for not coming in as planned. “I’m sorry, but I can’t come in today either, so I’ll have to wait until Monday… yes, sorry. Well, please let her know that my shoulder is feeling very good. Thank you.” 

I hung up the cordless phone and glanced over at Sanjo-san. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop on other people’s phone calls.”

Sanjo-san ignored me and asked, “What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

“I just strained it. The stress that normally affects my stomach went to my shoulder instead.”

“Pssh, I didn’t abuse you that much, did I?”

Sanjo-san’s tone made me pause (Huh?)… “I didn’t say it was your fault.” When she didn’t retort, I thought (Hmm) and continued, “I’ve really struggled with certain aspects of my playing for a while, but I think I’m seeing the light at the end of the tunnel now. I might have figured out a solution.” I realized I was smiling while I talked and quickly wiped it off my face. Sanjo-san began to play the piano, so I picked up my violin, and right before my entrance I placed my bow on the string for the first note of Tzigane. 

We ended up rehearsing for over three hours, but it still wasn’t enough to make up for all the time we’d spent bickering before now. Still, I had to stop and tell her, “Sorry, I think that’s it for today.”

“Do you have a date with your boyfriend?”

“Argh… I told you to stop asking about that. Today I have orchestra rehearsal.”

“You play in an orchestra?”

I realized then — this is the first time we’ve had a proper conversation, isn’t it?

“I’m the Concertmaster of an amateur orchestra called Fujimi.”

“Ah.” Sanjo-san pointed at me with a red-tipped fingernail, the look on her face saying (I get it).

“Yeah.” I nodded. I told her that what had prevented me from demonstrating my soloist abilities was indeed my ‘passivity’ that she’d pointed out. But that came from my habit of holding back as an orchestra player, always compromising my own musical ideas. “Today, when I was watching the orchestra at the competition, I realized that for the first time.”

“Hey, hey… look at this kid—“

“Unlike you, I have a reserved personality. When I was in college, I could only dream of getting into a professional orchestra. ”

“Who are you? You were totally a wolf in sheep’s clothing!” Sanjo-san said indignantly; I guess she got the impression that I seemed like a different person today than all the times before. And I realized that all the combative words she used like ‘attack’ and ‘come at me’ could also be said through our musical dialogue:

(I want to play this phrase like this.)

(No, it’s way better to play it this way.)

(That’s not how I like it!)

(Just do it!!)

(Absolutely not! I like it this way!!)

(I can’t deal with such lousy phrasing!)

(What’s lousy about it? Play it like this!)

Violinist and pianist each asserted their own style and jockeyed for dominance, like a battle of sorts. At least now I’m finally able to fight on her level, even if I already lost four or five rounds before. 

I heard a small click and then the smell of tobacco drifted over as I was putting my violin away. “So is your dream for you and your boyfriend to be together on the world stage?”

“Well… it’s more like my boyfriend is already there, so… I’m following him as best I can.”

“Aren’t you cute, eh?”

“Well, see you Monday.”

“Idiot, that’s tomorrow.”

“But then… that means we just rehearsed on Sunday…?”

“We’re finally on the same wavelength, so we need to get in as much practice as we can!”

“Don’t you ever go on dates or anything?”

“You bastard, just get the hell outta here already!”

“Ah, sorry, I’m just trying to be considerate!”

“That’s even worse!” 

If Kaoruko Sanjo doesn’t have a boyfriend, it’s probably because she can’t find a guy manly enough to top her… --

As a conscientious person, I felt that I owed everyone at Fujimi an apology. For me, who had been cured by that super painful treatment, and for Kei who had helped me through it, my injury was a thing of the past. But the people of Fujimi hadn’t seen me since then, so they were all very concerned. I felt bad for not at least giving Nico-chan an update call, so that night I gave them a mini-recital to prove to them that I was fine now.

“Ahh, thank goodness. I’m so glad to hear the Concertmaster’s beautiful violin playing.”

“Your sound, it seems different!”

I was embarrassed by the praise some of the women gave me when Igarashi-kun interrupted, “Ah, if your arm is really better now, maybe we can have a rematch. I was kinda jealous of how fast you were able to play.”

“Ahaha, well, playing fast isn’t always better. But okay, let’s try competing on three things: fast technique, vibrato and a fermata without limits. What do you say?”

“You’re on!”

“Well, then let’s start with a warm-up. If you jump right into playing fast you’ll pull something like I did.” The other people seemed interested, so I invited them to participate, “I’m going to demonstrate the warm-up technique, and everyone is welcome to follow along. We’ll go two bars at a time on my cue, and gradually get faster.”

First I started at a lento speed, with the do-re-mi-re-mi-fa-re.

That’s good.

Do-re-mi-do-re-mi-fa-re.

Mi-fa-so-mi-fa-so-la-fa.

Mi-fa-so-mi-fa-so-la-fa.

So-la-ti-so-la-ti-do-la-ti-do-la-ti-do—

So-la-ti-so-la-ti-do-la-ti-do-la-ti-do.

“Now, let’s go at an andante speed.” OK, everyone was able to keep up with that. “Next is allegro.” Hmm, the difference in ability is starting to show… “Allegretto. If you tense up, your fingers and bow will drag you down!”

“Alright, now try to play as fast as you can! But be precise with the pitch!” Ahahah, everyone fell apart. Alright, alright… I looked around at the smiles on everybody’s faces after finishing the scale game, then said to Igarashi-kun, “Shall we?”

“Let’s go!” 

In the end, I won in all three categories thanks to my experience.

“I’ll practice more before the next time!”

“That’s great, but don’t get tendinitis!”

“Iga, the trick is in the bowing. You’ll see it if you watch the Concertmaster.”

“Ahh, Iida-san, how can you tell? Wait, tell me later!”

“I got you, Igarashi.”

So just like last Thursday, we were doing the ‘gamified’ practice warm-up when the door opened and Kei walked in. It was Shimizu-san, one of the three trumpet-playing women, who spotted him first. She spoke for everyone when she asked, “How did you do?!”

Kei slowly surveyed the room, casually stopped with his gaze resting on me, raised his right hand to his chest… and made a ‘V’ sign.

“You did it!!”

“Congratulations!!”

“Wow, amazing!!”

Sora-kun trotted over to Kei and thrust his horn at him like a microphone.

“That’s a bit big for a mic, isn’t it.” Kei smiled.

“Kei, tell us what you think!” 

Kei took the horn from Sora, who was standing as tall as he could, and put his face in the bell, “That was just the second round~“ his baritone echoed strangely. “But, I want to win in the third~.” Then he looked up from the horn, and he was wearing his usual poker face. 

One of the women burst out laughing, “C-Conductor! Ahahah!”

Then everyone else followed suit, myself included; I had a deep belly laugh, thinking, ‘I’ve never seen Kei like that before, joking around in front of everyone! Is he feeling alright? No, no, it’s fine, it’s great to see him like this now.’ --

Then came the third round of the preliminaries. There were eleven contestants remaining, the carefully chosen elite. Four of them were Japanese, and the other seven were of various nationalities and hair colors, as one would expect in an international competition. The assignment for the third round, as with the others, was announced the day before the judging. Three pieces would be selected from the seven that were assigned in advance, and the scores given to the contestants. The excerpts chosen for this round were Mozart’s Marriage of Fígaro, Brahms’ Symphony No. 1, and Chopin’s Piano Concerto No. 2. 

I went to listen with Nico-chan, Fujimi’s manager; he had whispered the idea for us to go to the rehearsal last Saturday. Igarashi-kun and some other members of Fujimi met us at the venue — to be exact, it was Igarashi-kun, Haruyama-san and her sister, and Kawashima-san. Iida-san came later, and a few other Fujimi people as well, so that when we sat in the audience the whole row became the ‘Kei Tounoin Cheering Section.’ Iida-san and Nobuhara-san sat on my right, and on my left was Haruyama-san and her sister, then next to them was Igarashi-kun; it seemed like he and the sister were getting along well.

“The most problematic selection is the opera. It’s a minor genre in Japan, but it’s mainstream in Europe. When a piece like that is picked, the Japanese are always at a disadvantage.”

“But Tounoin-san studied abroad.”

“Even so, I doubt he ever conducted one.”

Iida-san was talking with Haruyama-san across me when Nobuhara-san commented beside him, “I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna listen very carefully to the Brahms.”

“What are you nattering on about?” Iida-san snapped back.

“I’m not here to watch, I’m here to listen.”

“Bullshit...”

(To be perfectly honest, the only time they were chatting was during the stage breaks.)

And then it was Kei’s turn; the applause was particularly loud for him on account of how many people were in his cheering section.

The Countess’ aria from Fígaro wasn’t particularly convincing on Kei’s part, but the orchestra didn’t sound bad. The soprano, on the other hand… she sounded good before, so maybe she was just tired from all the previous performances? I loved the Brahms. I wasn’t the only one who thought so, judging by the substantial applause after it, and Nobuhara-san called out, “Let’s hear the whole thing!” 

Thankfully the last piece, the Chopin, was also good. I felt like overall Kei’s conducting had a distinct flair, not just because he’s young, handsome, and tall, but also because of his technique. His conducting isn’t flashy. He held the baton in his right hand, and his left hand’s eloquent finger movements were at once flexible, expressive and persuasive… there was also something decisive and elegant about them as well. Right now it came across as young and fresh, but in another ten years this elegance would be refined into dignity.

Kei received enthusiastic applause and shouts of ‘Bravo!’ from the entire auditorium after he finished. Our section’s applause was very ‘matter-of-fact;’ after all, this is our own genius conductor we’re talking about. Kei Tounoin gave it everything he got, there was no need for bravos now.

As in the first and second rounds, they would announce the judges’ decision after all the contestants had performed. Many of the Fujimi people had ‘slipped out’ of work to see the performance, so it looked like Igarashi-kun and I were the only ones left waiting for the announcement. As I was talking to the people as they left, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Iida-san. 

“Oh, thanks for coming today—“ I started to say, when Iida-san leaned in close to my face and whispered…

“He… might lose.”

“What—?”

#fujimi orchestra #yaoi #BL #light novel #Akizuki Koh #classical music #90s series #orchestra #Keiko Nishi

[symphonicscans]

::Smol update::

👋Hi to the new followers! 👋

We're not dead!😅

Life has been a little crazy the past few months, but there will be a new chapter of zVoH next month! And probably Fujimi Orchestra as well, since they're both in the process at the same time.

#update #arkposts #scanlation