The Afterlife Sonata (Your Lie in April fanfic)

9-Misunderstood Times

Days later...

"Kousei..."

Viola, a classmate, approached him.

"What? Then she'll embarrass me again with her style? That's no fair!"

"So? In fact, she started playing because of you."

"So, what? Viola, I don't feel it. I just don't."

"Whatever, Kousei..." Viola rolled her eyes and walked away, leaving Kousei in the classroom.

"Kousei..."

"Yes, Mr. Gibson?"

"No, it's Mr. Seto."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Move, just move on."

Kousei scratched his head. He had no idea to what Mr. Seto meant.

"Go to a new school where your style would be unique."

"So... where?"

"Study in Austria. Or London. There's a great conservatory or two there..."

"How about me?"

"You can me my first protégé."

Kousei's eyes sparkled. His loneliness is not there anymore. His teacher must have seen through his unique piano style.

"I do not want to waste your talent here, Kousei. I'll give you tuition, or such. Just keep moving on."

---------

"I'm confused, Nao..."

"Why, Tsubaki?"

"I'm very afraid. What if I fail? Look, I have spent weeks practising with an unwilling accompanist, and I may fail..."

"Don't worry, Tsubaki."

"Let's go now change, Miss Sawabe."

A boy said that while pulling Tsubaki to go to the dressing rooms. He was wearing a mask and tinted glasses, and his hair was upswept so Tsubaki could not recognize him from the start.

...

"Tsubaki..."

"Yeah?"

"If only you knew..." the masked accompanist said, "I know you know me from the start.

His mask made his familiar voice muffled.

"Actually I have kept this as a secret to all of my friends. To a pianist and a violinist, and all the other annoying fangirls."

"Wait, what's your name?"

"Tomoki Satoshi."

"Ah, okay... But I feel that your mask and glasses are annoying..."

Tsubaki remarked while the masked accompanist brushes his milk chocolate hair upwards. He raised his tinted glasses, and accidentally Tsubaki saw his brown, handsome eyes.

"Hey, Satoshi..."

"What?"

"Your friends... I don't think I know them. Your eyes... I don't think I have seen them before..."

"Contestant No. 4, please get ready!" The announcer called them.

"Ugh." Tsubaki shrugged.

---------

"Kousei... someone's calling you."

"What, Marie?"

"Just go with me."

"Nope, I won't do that."

"It's a class meeting, Kousei... Please don't be stubborn."

"Ugh."

Marie held his hand and they ran into the rooftop of the dorms.

"Hey, Kousei! Please play with Marie and we'll let you do anything!"

"No! I won't!" Kousei replied back, and isolated himself from his classmates. He shut the door and locked it, and there he cried again.

---------

Tsubaki and Tomoki Satoshi went up onstage. No one clapped at the new violinist, and there seemed to be one one willing to listen to her except Nao.

It was a fast and brisk piece. It shows an image of some bee in a hurry, above the seas, and being stumbled upon by the sea waft.

It was a heart-pounding debut for Tsubaki. After the judging and sneering of the audience, they gave her a warm welcome: a boisterous applaud and smiles from the judges...

Except Mr. Takanayagi Akira.

---------

"Tsubaki, that was great!" Nao said, and later Watari came in.

"How amazing is that, Tsubaki!"

Nao and Watari came over to see the winners. Tsubaki, fortunately, qualified in the eliminations.

"Wow..." Watari quoted, "It seems like you have gotten a real great accompanist."

"Wait, where did you meet him? And what was his name?" Nao inquired.

"Ah, he's Tomoki Satoshi. I met him in the bookstore when he bumped off the shelf of sheet music, and Beethoven sonatas with Bach cantatas fell on my face."

"Ha-ha!" Watari commented, "That was funny! Wish I'd be the one to bump on it!"

"Not funny, Watari!" An annoyed Tsubaki said while chasing him.

---------

"Kousei, we're now here."

"What school is this?" Kousei replied with a breath of shyness.

"We're now in the London Academy of Music... And you'll audition to get a scholarship."

Kousei simply clutched his hands and breathed deeply. It was a huge school, yet with no more than 800 students. Solely for music, and higher-rated than the Chopin Institute of Music (no offense), Mr. Seto thought he had the right decision to trasfer his protégé somewhere in London, to enhance his innate abilities as a musician.

"One question, Kousei..." Mr. Seto said as he patted the aspiring virtuoso. "Jazz or Composition?"

"Composition..." Kousei quietly answered.