The violinist and the conductor

26. Favourites

Four years later

I took a deep breath with my eyes closed and turned my face up towards the sky, like a sunflower searching the sun. 

It was nothing special about this day, really, only that it was my first good day since I had found out Izuna had been killed, and I was meeting the pianist for coffee. 

He was already sitting at a cafe table, waiting for me. He had ordered me black coffee and a walnut cake; my favourites, he knew.

"Thank you", I said and smiled at him. 

It had taken me a long time after I had found out Izuna was dead to be able to smile without feeling guilty. 

But I soon realised that something was up with the pianist. 

"Tobirama..." he began before I had time to ask him what was wrong. He grabbed my hands, and cold dread clenched at my heart.

"What?"

"I'm leaving." 

I just stared.

"But it's been fifteen minutes!"

"No, I mean, I'm leaving", he clarified . As if I didn't know that. "I've gotten a contract in Canada. In Vermont. I'm taking it."

I looked down. He looked down. Both of us were trying our hardest not to cry.

"You don't want me to come with you, do you?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, it's-"

"Izuna, I know", I interrupted, more harshly than I had intended. 

"Izuna", the pianist repeated, seemingly unbothered by my tone. 

Sometimes, I forgot the pianist had loved Izuna, too, and also felt incredibly guilty of his death. And I knew he found it hard to be with me because I reminded him of that guilt. I knew because we had talked about it many, many times, until the small hours of morning which we shared together so often nowadays.

But would apparently not share anymore. 

"But it's not just that, it's..." I didn't give him the satisfaction of encouraging him. "It's you", he said. "You haven't left Izuna behind, have you?"

I was quiet for a while, deep in memories, before I spoke.

"I will never leave Izuna behind", I said. 

We finished our coffee together. 

One would have thought that Izuna's death would cement my decision to kill myself. But it didn't. And it wasn't because I wanted to punish myself by living. It was because... I just kept on living, and it worked. 

I had even started to find some glimmers of happiness here and there; traveling alone for concerts but for fun, evenings at the lake listening to the waves, reading books in coffee shops at daytime when most people were at work. 

Now, after the pianist had left me, however, I felt quite dull. So I wasn't happy when my boss called me and asked me a favour. Or rather, she demanded it. 

"New pianist. Flies in today. Will be in concert hall at five pm. You are to meet him to give him an introduction. Look nice. Be nice. Bye." 

And she hung up.

I sighed and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I had sold mine and Izuna's house and now rented an apartment. The house had been too big for me, and too full of memories. "Look nice." I was still the same old albino, only I had taken to let a hair stylist bleach my hair so it was white instead of soft cream. I had a few more wrinkles around my eyes than I was used to, but otherwise, I still was that messy-haired, long-legged French Fry. I decided my black polo and grey trousers were already a good outfit for a first impression and left for the theatre to welcome the new pianist who would take the place of the one I had loved so much. 

I went into the theatre where the instruments of the orchestra still stood neatly by the chairs in their cases. The new pianist stood by the wing, seemingly inspecting it, pulling their fingers across it. A woman, I guessed; she was short, with black hair to their shoulders cut in a neat line, and were dressed in black trousers and a cardigan. Small hands for a pianist, I couldn't help but think disappointedly.

"Hi", I said without passion. "I'm Tobirama Senju. I'm the conductor. Welcome to our-"

The woman turned around.

But it wasn't a woman. 

It was Izuna.