1.2 | The Prince of Thieves

Chapter 27

A/N: Have a question for Leon and Hana? Ask them now!

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The holding room was cold. Leon swallowed as his fingers gripped each other in anticipation of their turn. The portion they were playing, just totalling six minutes and thirty seconds give or take, was ingrained in his memory and he was proud of this little accomplishment, for there were few things he could be proud of. They had spent every free night together just practising hours and hours on end, sometimes not even speaking until they had both settled into a state that was comfortable for them, until he no longer thought but played, until he was certain he had really earned her praises. Her goal had now become his.

Then he glanced over at her to see that she was merely staring straight ahead, not a worry in her face. So he was the only nervous one then. He blew out his cheeks and let out a shaky breath, and his eyes flew to his sheet music again.

On his left, she took his hand between hers and offered him a warm smile.

'You'll do great,' she whispered as she threaded her fingers with his, and he gripped her hand in return. 'Just imagine we're back at home, and it's just us in the living room.'

'I should be the one encouraging you,' he returned softly.

Soon, the first cellist completed their round. Her previously calm features had slipped into one of anxiety and he gripped onto her fingers when she began drumming them on the edge of her seat. 

They leapt to their feet simultaneously when her number was called; it would have been comical had they not been the ones participating. With a resolute sigh and his expression settled into the calm mask he often wore, he followed her through a set of thick doors to where an administrative staff waited. The 'no speaking' rule was read out to them as he shivered at the draft of cold air from the dark stage. 

Beyond them lay an abyss of nothingness, save for the few floor lights that illuminated the grand piano and a stool for the cellist. It seemed eons before he reached his seat. The stage was vast and empty, and their footfalls were loud, almost rudely so, in that solemn atmosphere. He had even doubted if any judges were present – how were they to know when a red velvet curtain had been drawn? – when a soft throat clearing could be heard. Hana took the stool beside the piano, and set her cello comfortably between her knees.

There was some murmuring from the judges. He let out a breath. She smiled. He smiled back.

'Contestant four-oh-seven, a duet with a piano. Playing Debussy's La Mer, the Allegro. Please begin.'

His fingers met the cool ivory keys. At a nod from her, they began.

This is it, he thought. We'll get through this.

It was exhilarating, just being able to produce such music and with her. He drowned himself in his playing with ease, and finding that his arms and shoulders were not as tense when he had began, he allowed himself to sway to the tune. 

Occasionally, she gave him an encouraging smile and he found that this was not too bad. This, a semblance of normality in his otherwise uncertain life. This, playing duets with his wife, and sharing secret smiles behind a screen, just them. He let out a breath of soft laughter, remembering the 'no speaking' rule too late, but he was on a high.

They ended faster than he had expected. Their part done, he stared down at the keys with a sort of grateful relieve and let out a breath. The murmuring of the judges remained muted behind their curtain so they could not decipher a single word. She would be assessed based on her playing alone. As they waited in silence, Hana began packing her cello into its case. Then she set it onto its side and squeezed beside him on his seat.