The Disconsolate Maiden

Chapter Twenty-Five

The following Monday....

Homura sat down at sleek, black grand piano in her school's music room, an empty feeling lingering in her heart.

Her father had been in such a rush to get back to work, he as well as Homura simply said goodbye to Mrs. Kanojo, not even arranging a proper funeral. Though, Homura would rather it be that way. Her mother was going to be placed in her family's section of the cemetery, meaning she would be next to her daughter, Homura's twin sister.

Homura gazed gloomily at the slick, shiny piano keys, her eyes clouded over with distress as she continued to reimagine her mother's final moments with her.

"Yuka..." Homura whispered, running her fingers along the keys, playing the opening notes to Deux Arabesques, composed by Claude Debussy. The soothing repetitive pattern of the first few measures of this piece sent the girl to a completely different world. Memories flashing before her eyes as the mysterious sound blocked out all other sounds.

Leaning her head back, Homura relaxed herself, feeling her stiff muscles loosen as she gracefully stroked each key in the circular pattern the song gave off.

"Yuka, why are you crying?"

"Yuka, you can do it!"

"Yuka! I love you!"

"Yuka, you're amazing!"

"Yuka I can't wait to see you at the recital with your sister next week!"

Homura clenched her teeth, biting her cheeks ever so slightly as her serenity began to fade back into that same, gloomy expression.

The classroom door slammed shut, causing Homura to jump like a frightened cat. It was like Claude Debussy himself had been playing, and that was his death. For Homura slammed her fingers on the piano in fright, composing a brand new song.

"Jeez," Totoko sighed, throwing her school bag on one of the tables in the room as she jerked out a chair and slumped down in it. "You and that stupid piano."

"S-Sorry," Homura quickly apologized. No one at her school even knew that her mother had passed on. Not a single soul. "I didn't mean to be a bother..."

"Pfft, it's not like you're even good at piano," Totoko scoffed. "So much for being called a prodigy when you were little."

"I-I was n-never called a prodigy," Homura stammered, getting up from the piano, her brown school shoes echoing loudly as she pulled out a chair across Totoko, sitting down. "That was somebody else.."

"Oh, right," Totoko laughed, pulling her medium length brown hair out of her two pigtails, shaking her head so her hair would fluff out. "That was you sister, wasn't it? Hah, was."

"Don't..." Homura said darkly, not even knowing how her voice got so deep all of the sudden. She wasn't even angry. She felt more hurt than anything. Being reminded that her sister Yuka had actually existed, was like someone constantly hammering her heart with a stake.

"Jeez," Totoko snorted, widening her eyes a little. "I didn't mean to make the fragile princess so angry!"

"Sorry...It's just been a rough weekend," Homura quickly apologized, bowing her head.

"Oh." Totoko snorted, getting up as soon as Naomi entered the room. But she didn't rise to her feet because she wanted to see Naomi. She just didn't recognize her.

For, before the two girls, stood a girl in the morning sunlight with bright pink hair with two green streaks in it.

"Who are you?!" Totoko gasped, glaring at the girl. "What an atrocity! The coloring of your hair violates this school's code of conduct!"

"I got permission, considering I have a job now, unlike you sore loser," Naomi boasted, her chin high in the air as she looked down on her bratty peer.

"Naomi?!" Totoko screeched. "How did you of all people get permission to destroy your hair!"

"My idol company thought I could take on a certain image, and they offered for me to get my hair done like this, free of charge. Oh, and did I mention...it was done professionally," Naomi smirked.

Totoko didn't say a word since the teacher, followed by a few students, had just entered the music room.

"Take your seats!" the teacher called out, clapping her hands sharply together to get everyone's attention. "This will be our final rehearsal, you know."

Homura, once again, was reminded of Yuka when she heard the teacher say that. For the day of her sister's death, a teacher, it just so happens, had said the exact same words to her musical students.

"Yuka still hasn't died, has she," Homura thought to herself as she attempted to focus on what her teacher was instructing the students to do. Yet her mind was just in another world. She was too distracted, too sick, to notice what was even going on.