Fic: Only in the Sound (Prince of Tennis)
I thought I'd already reposted my hyouteiexchange fic, but apparently not.
Only in the Sound
Ohtori/Shishido | PG | 6637 words
In which Ohtori chooses music and Shishido is kind of a moron.
A/N: Definitions of musical terms are taken from Wikipedia or Dictionary.com.
You must use the body - its curves,
its hollows, the spring of the sound, which
brings back what is absent, what has
been and is now gone, fading.
-Sheila Black, Violin
Prelude
a piece that precedes a more important movement
"That's enough for today. I expect each of you to obtain a more thorough knowledge of this piece before we meet again." Sakaki’s eyes sweep over the assembled students before stopping on the violin section. "Ohtori. I’d like to speak to you for a moment."
Ohtori pauses, his violin only halfway into its case. "Yes, Sakaki-san." He can feel the curious gazes of his classmates on him as they collect their things, but he's just as curious as they are. Surely he's not in trouble. The pieces they have been learning are difficult, yes, but Ohtori has worked hard and done well; he made first violin at the beginning of the autumn term.
As the last students file out, into the noisy halls of Hyoutei, Ohtori hefts his bag over his shoulder and heads toward Sakaki's desk. "Sir?"
Sakaki is sorting through a stack of papers. He doesn't look up as he speaks. "Ohtori. I must say that I am quite pleased with performance so far this year. It's rare to have a second year as first violin."
Ohtori bows lightly. "Thank you, sir. I have tried to do my best."
"Yes, well, I'm pleased by your dedication." Sakaki glances up for a moment before pulling a packet out of the stack and setting the other papers aside. "What are your plans for university?"
"U- university?" Ohtori stumbles over the word, a bit surprised.
Sakaki's tone is curt. "Yes. Surely you have given it some thought."
"Yes," Ohtori says. "Yes, I'm intending to take the entrance exams for the law programs at Tokyo University, Waseda University, and here at Hyoutei. My father thinks I should also sit the exam for Kyushuu University."
"Hmm, yes, those are all good programs." Sakaki says, tapping the packet in his hand against the desk. Ohtori swallows nervously at the sound, the soft rasp of paper against wood. He doesn't understand where this conversation is going.
"Have you ever thought about pursuing music as a career?"
Ohtori blinks, slightly taken aback. "Music, Sakaki-san?"
Sakaki nods once. "Yes."
"I have considered it," Ohtori says, "but I hadn't decided if I should seriously pursue it." He shifts his bag higher up on his shoulder. "I love music, but I know it's very difficult to make a successful career of it."
Sakaki frowns. "I'll be honest with you. I think you have the talent and the potential. However, it is difficult and you must be extremely dedicated. If this is not something that you are serious about, then you should not attempt it."
"I'm very serious about music, sir," Ohtori says. He glances at the packet Sakaki's hand, but it's angled away from him and he can't quite make out the kanji.
Sakaki notices Ohtori's look and holds out the papers in his hand. "This is from the Tokyo School of Music. They have an excellent extracurricular musical performance program for high school students. It's designed for students who are looking at studying music in university. Many students from this program go on to study at the Tokyo School of Music when they finish high school."
Ohtori gapes. The Tokyo School of Music has one of the top performance programmes in the country. He sometimes, in what he's always thought of as his more unrealistic moments, dreams of studying there.
"In order to audition, students must be recommended by a music teacher or other professional." Sakaki leans back in his chair and gives Ohtori a considering look. "I'd like to recommend you."
Ohtori bows quickly. "I would be honoured."
"Very well." Sakaki nods. "Auditions for this program are held every December, just after the end of the school term. You will be required to show proficiency in two instruments. You will present two pieces for your primary instrument, in your case I would recommend the violin, and one for your secondary instrument. I imagine you will want to choose the piano."
"Are they pieces of my choice?" Ohtori asks hesitantly. Three pieces to learn in four months is a lot, particularly on top of the pieces Ohtori already has to learn for Sakaki's class, tennis practice, and his regular classwork.
"Yes." Sakaki looks down at his watch. "There is more information in the packet I've given you. Look over it thoroughly. If you choose to take this opportunity, I expect nothing less than your best." Sakaki gestures toward the door. "You may go."
Capo
the beginning of a movement
Ohtori waits to open the packet from Tokyo School of Music until he's finished the day's homework and is safely ensconced in his room. He wants to have a chance to look over everything himself before anyone else sees it. The packet is thin, only a handful of papers. Ohtori spreads them across his bed. The first is general information about the school itself. Ohtori sets it aside.
The second paper gives basic information about the program he'd be auditioning for. Designed for third year high school students who are interested in seriously pursuing music as a career, he reads. Students will have lessons three afternoons a week and on Saturdays. There are statistics about the program's graduates- which university music programs they got accepted to, how many have gone on to make music a successful career, that sort of thing. Aside from that, there's not anything Sakaki hadn't already mentioned.
The next sheet details the audition requirements. Three pieces of Ohtori's choice, demonstrating his skill with two instruments. A letter of recommendation from his music teacher or other music professional. A signed permission slip from his parents.
Ohtori sighs. The first step is talking to his parents. There's not much point in getting excited about this before he's sure that he'll be able to audition. He knows his father is thrilled by the idea that Ohtori might follow in his footsteps and become a lawyer, but that's not the only reason Ohtori had planned to study law. It's interesting and it's a good career. His father may be disappointed, but Ohtori is cautiously optimistic. His parents know how much music means to him; surely they won't deny him the chance to try for it.
Ohtori carefully gathers up the papers. It's only half an hour until dinnertime, that should be enough time to ask his parents.
****
Even though Nationals are over and the third years have retired from the tennis club, some of the old regulars still come to practices. Ohtori and Shishido have just finished a match against Hiyoshi, who's been named captain now that the third years have retired from the club, and Nakajima, one of the new regulars, when Sakaki stops by.
"Ohtori," he says as Ohtori grabs his water bottle off the bench. "I'd like to speak with you for a moment."
Ohtori feels a flutter of nervous excitement. The permission slip from his parents is in his school bag, carefully tucked away with the rest of the papers from the Tokyo School of Music. "Yes, Kankotu. I'll see you at lunch, Shishido-san?" Shishido gives him a curious look, but nods before heading to the club room to change.
Sakaki waits until the courts are mostly empty before speaking. "Have you looked over the information I gave you?"
Ohtori stuffs his racquet into his tennis bag and zips it closed. "Yes."
Sakaki sighs. "And?"
"Oh!" Ohtori blushes. "I'd like to audition. My parents have already signed the permission form."
"Very good," Sakaki says. "Choose the pieces you intend to perform carefully. I have some sheet music in my office that you may look through should you need to. Once you have selected them we will discuss if they are appropriate or not."
****
"So what did Sakaki want with you this morning?" Shishido asks as soon as Ohtori sits down for lunch. Today they're sitting outside, behind Hyoutei's main building, just the two of them. Usually they eat lunch in the cafeteria if they feel like hanging out with all their friends or in Ohtori's classroom if they don't, but their private lunches are Ohtori's favourite. It's nice to have this time that they don't have to share with anyone.
Ohtori settles into the grass and opens his bento. "He wants me to audition for a music program. He was asking if I'd decided to do it or not."
Shishido quirks an eyebrow. "Are you?"
Ohtori nods.
"What sort of program is it?"
"I've got the information in my bag if you want to see it," Ohtori replies.
"Nah," Shishido says. "Just tell me about it, Choutarou."
Ohtori does. He tells Shishido everything he knows about it, which is probably way more information than Shishido expected or wanted. Everything Sakaki told him and everything the packet said. He tells him that it's a very elite program- there's only seventy-five spots even though they take students from the entire Kantou region and you have to be recommended for it to even be able to audition. He tells him that he's already started thinking of what music he'd like to play.
"And then I asked my parents and they said it was okay as long as I still take the regular university entrance exams. Which, of course I will, but hopefully, if I pass the audition and do well in the program I'll be able to study music after graduation. The packet said that most of last years' students got into their top choice of university music programs."
Shishido's looking a little shell shocked at the barrage of information by the time Ohtori finally winds down, but he finally says, "Congratulations, Choutarou. That's awesome."
"I guess I'm a little excited," Ohtori says sheepishly. He smiles at Shishido. "Sorry."
Shishido smiles back, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
****
Ohtori chooses Chopin's Fantaisie-Impromptu for the piano. That's a fairly easy decision; he loves Chopin. Choosing what to play for his violin pieces is much more difficult. He spends every lunch period for a week in Sakaki's office, poring over sheet music and debating the merits of various pieces. Finally he decides to play Bach's Partita No.3 and the third movement from Bartok's Solo Violin Sonata.
He throws himself into learning the pieces.
****
Ohtori's sliding his street shoes into the school shoe rack one morning when Shishido comes up beside him. "Choutarou!"
"Shishido-san!" Ohtori fumbles, dropping one shoe to the ground. "I didn't see you there." He leans down and picks up the shoe.
Shishido runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
Ohtori fits his shoe neatly in place and hoists his school bag onto his shoulder. "It's okay, I just wasn't paying attention. What's up?"
"Haven't seen you at lunch all week," Shishido says. "I thought you might want to eat outside today."
Another student comes up, shoes already in hand, and Shishido and Ohtori step away from the rack.
"Actually, I was planning on going to the music room during lunch," Ohtori says as they start walking down the hall.
Shishido frowns. "What for? I thought you'd already chosen what you're going to play."
"I have, but now I have to learn to play the pieces and I only have a few months. I probably won't have a lot of free time between now and December," Ohtori says apologetically. A group of girls walks past and Ohtori steps closer to Shishido in order to avoid bumping into them.
"Oh." Shishido moves slightly closer to the wall. "So, no lunch then?"
"I'm sorry, Shishido-san," Ohtori replies, "but I really do need to practice. I want to do my best at the audition, so I need to take advantage of any extra time I do have." Ohtori would prefer to tell Shishido that he'd love to eat outside today, but he knows he's going to need the extra practice. "You could come to the music room too, if you wanted," he offers.
Shishido frowns again. "Nah. If you don't want to come to lunch I'll just go eat with everybody else. I'd better go to class. See you." He turns and heads back the way they came.
"O… okay," Ohtori says to Shishido's retreating back. He's trying not to show it, but he's disappointed. Watching him practice probably wouldn't be that interesting for Shishido, but Ohtori still wishes he'd said yes.
****
There is more work than Ohtori had expected there to be. Only a month in and his head is full of bow positions and fingering; he finds himself absently tapping out rhythms on his desk during class and bouncing tennis balls against his racquet in 2/2 time during practice. He scrawls musical notation on his trigonometry homework and quadratic functions on his sheet music.
Spending his lunch breaks in the music room, eating quickly before starting in on the music, soon becomes a habit for Ohtori. Some days he meets with Sakaki during lunch, goes over and over the pieces, playing the bits he has the most trouble with as Sakaki points out his mistakes and adjusts his positioning. Occasionally Hiyoshi eats with him and stays to listen as he does paperwork for the tennis club. Usually, Ohtori's alone. Just him and his violin, going over the notes again and again.
Between tennis, school work, practicing for Hyoutei's music club, and practicing for the audition, Ohtori feels like he barely has time to even sleep. He keeps reminding himself that'll he'll have more free time once the audition is over, but he misses his friends, particularly Shishido.
He's been keeping Sunday afternoons free as best he can, but, even so, he's hardly seen Shishido outside of tennis practice in ages.
It sucks, but Ohtori's managing. Or at least he thinks he is, until Sakaki calls him in to his office one day after music class.
"Ohtori," Sakaki says as Ohtori shuts the door behind him. "I'd like to talk about your performance in class."
"Is there a problem?" Ohtori asks.
"Unfortunately," Sakaki replies. "I'm pleased with the progress you've made on your audition pieces, but your performance in class has not been at the level I expect from you and certainly not the level I expect from my first violin."
Ohtori flushes. "I'm sorry, Sakaki-san. I've been very busy, but I'll do my best to improve."
"See that you do." Sakaki fixes Ohtori with a stern look. "I understand that you have a lot of work, but, if you wish to be successful, you need to determine your priorities."
Ohtori leaves Sakaki's office with a sinking heart.
He spends the rest of the day going over and over his options in his head. He thinks about it all throughout his remaining classes and that afternoon's tennis practice. He knows Sakaki's right. He wants to give his absolute best, but he's slipping. Something's got to give.
Realistically, there's only one thing that Ohtori can let go. He can't just quit doing his homework; he needs to do well in school, and he can't quit the music club, not if he wants Sakaki's recommendation to audition for the Tokyo School of Music. Ohtori may not have thought that he'd seriously have a shot at becoming a professional musician, but he's dreamed about it. He wants this.
He hangs back to speak to Hiyoshi after tennis practice.
Stringendo
tightening, narrowing; an acceleration of the tempo
Without tennis practice to occupy his mornings and afternoons, Ohtori's workload is much easier to manage. He still doesn't have a lot of free time, but it's been much easier only concentrating on two things, music and school.
He's finally managed to play the Bartok piece all the way through with no major mistakes or missed notes. Of course, it still needs a lot more work- it's not perfect yet- but he's feeling quite proud of himself. Ohtori sets his violin carefully into its case. It's still early afternoon; he really should keep going, keeping working and play the piece again, but he's ready for a break.
He picks up the phone and dials Shishido's number. It's been too long since they've spent anytime together. Ohtori figures he can spare the time to play a one set match at the street courts or maybe they can play video games for awhile.
Shishido answers on the third ring. "Choutarou?"
"Hey," Ohtori says with a smile. "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out for a little bit?"
"Don't you have to practice your music?"
"Yes, but I've been making good progress. I thought I could spare a couple hours. Do you want to come over?" Ohtori looks over at his closet, eyeing his tennis bag. "Or we could play a quick match at the street courts."
Shishido is silent for a moment. "I don't know, Choutarou," he finally says. "I thought you quit tennis. And didn't you say you needed all the practice you could get?"
"Well, yes," Ohtori replies. "But-"
"I'm kind of busy anyway. I'll talk to you later." With that Shishido hangs up.
Ohtori pulls the phone away from his ear and stares blankly at it. He knows that he shouldn't have expected Shishido to drop everything for him, but he can't help but be hurt by Shishido's cool dismissal.
****
Shishido stops Ohtori as he's leaving school a week later. "Sorry I couldn't go play with you last week," he says.
"It's okay. I know you've got things to do too," Ohtori tells him.
"Yeah…" Shishido trails off. "Anyway, I kind of want to see that yakuza movie that just came out. Want to go?"
"I really shouldn't, Shishido-san." Ohtori says. "I'd like to, but I really don't have the time. I've got a lot of math homework that I need to finish tonight and Sakaki wants to hear me play my both violin pieces on Friday. I need to work on them some more."
"You can't even stop for a little bit?" Shishido asks hopefully.
"I'm sorry, Shishido-san, I really can't today."
Shishido's face falls. "Okay. I'll find someone else to go."
"Maybe we could go on Sunday instead?" Ohtori suggests.
Shishido shrugs."Eh, maybe. I'll see you later." He heads back into the building.
Ohtori sighs. He really doesn't have the time, but he feels terrible.
When he sees Shishido at school the next day he's standing outside the cafeteria doors, telling a bemused Oshitari how much Atobe had hated the movie when they'd gone to see it last night.
Ohtori stops, surprised. "You went to that yakuza movie you were talking about yesterday?"
Oshitari glances between them quickly and slips into the cafeteria, leaving Ohtori and Shishido looking awkwardly at each other.
"Yeah, I, um, I saw it with Atobe." Shishido finally says. He fidgets with the strap of his bag. "I was just about to go in to lunch. I suppose you're going to the music room again?"
"Yeah." Ohtori says. "Yeah, do you want to come with me?"
"That's okay. I wouldn't want to interfere with your practice time." Shishido pulls open the cafeteria door, the chatter of the students within spilling out into the hall. "I've got to buy my lunch today anyway."
Ohtori watches the door swing shut with a heavy heart.
****
Ohtori can see the tennis courts from the windows of the music room. When he stops playing he can hear faint voices and the thwack of balls on the court. He misses tennis, but Hiyoshi made him promise that if he doesn't make the cut at the audition he'll rejoin the team when the new school year starts.
He likes to watch when he needs a break from playing. It's interesting to see the matches from this angle instead of court level, the rhythm in the yellow flash of the ball across the hard court, in the whistle of air over the net, in the swing and steps of the players. It's soothing in a way he hadn't expected.
Today, though, watching practice is anything but soothing. Hiyoshi's brought back some of the third years to help the new doubles teams. Ohtori can see the flash of Mukahi's red hair every time he jumps, the glint of Oshitari's glasses as they catch the light. Shishido, handing Nakajima a towel, both of them flushed with triumph as a pair of second year pre-regulars slump on the opposite side of the net. Shishido has all but ignored him since the last time Ohtori asked him to lunch in the music room.
He misses tennis, but it's the lack of Shishido that settles like an ache in his bones.
Ohtori turns away from the window, picks up his bow and draws it quietly across the strings. The lone note hangs in the stillness of the air.
Crescendo
a steady increase in intensity or force
"Shishido-san! I want to talk to you," Ohtori calls out as he follows Shishido to the bus stop after school. "Do you need to go home right away?"
Shishido stops, but doesn't turn around. It's the first time Ohtori's managed to catch him alone in nearly a month. Not that Shishido's been ignoring him or anything. He's just been busy. Choutarou's not the only one that has better things to do. "What is it, Choutarou? I'm supposed to go study at Atobe's."
"Oh." The disappointment is clear in Ohtori's voice.
Shishido sighs, slowly pivoting until he's facing Ohtori. "What did you want to talk about? It won't kill Atobe if I'm a little late."
Ohtori smiles. "Want to go to the park for a while? We could get some ice cream and then you could go to Atobe's from there."
"Yeah, okay." Shishido doesn't really feel like talking to Ohtori, but he doesn't want to just leave now that he's finally got Ohtori's attention. He's barely even seen Ohtori in ages and Shishido's still practically jumping at the first chance he has to spend time with him. God, he's so lame.
Ohtori falls in to step beside Shishido and they head toward the park. Several times Ohtori opens his mouth as though he wants to say something, but he always shuts it without speaking. Shishido says nothing at all.
As they reach the park entrance, Ohtori points toward a vendor on the sidewalk. "Do you want an ice cream, Shishido-san?"
"Not really." Shishido stuffs his hands in his pockets. He does want an ice cream, but he barely has enough money for his bus fare. He knows that Ohtori would happily buy them both ice creams if he mentions his lack of funds, but Shishido's too pissed off. He doesn't want anything from Ohtori right now.
Ohtori shrugs. "Okay. There's a bench just over here a bit." He turns slightly to the right, the dry autumn grass crunching beneath his feet, and Shishido follows.
They sit side by side on the bench, Ohtori gazing out across the park, Shishido absently scuffing his shoes in the dirt. Finally Ohtori sighs. "What's going on, Shishido-san?"
"What do you mean?" Shishido asks.
Ohtori looks down. "It's... it's just… I know we're both busy, but it feels like you've been ignoring me."
"I never see you anymore, Choutarou! You're supposed to be my best friend, but you're always practicing for your lame audition," Shishido spits out.
"It is not lame!" Ohtori looks over, his eyes flashing in indignation. "That audition is very important. I have to practice."
"Whatever." Shishido kicks at a rock on the ground. "You never have time to do anything but practice, you spend all your time in the music room and barely even speak to me at school, we don't even play tennis anymore!"
Ohtori sighs, obviously frustrated. "I have to practice, Shishido-san. This is important! I really want to do well at this audition, you know that. Maybe I don't have as much free time as you or I would like right now, but it's temporary. I'll have time again once the audition's over. I just don't understand why this is so difficult."
"It's not difficult," Shishido says. "I'm not ignoring you." He keeps his gaze firmly on the ground.
"What is it then?" Ohtori asks. "Because I don't understand why you're acting like this."
"Acting like what?" Shishido scowls.
"Like I've done something wrong!"
"You're the one who's been ignoring me, Choutarou!"
Ohtori's expression hardens. "I have not. I've been busy; I have a lot of work to do between the audition and school, but I'm not ignoring you."
"Whatever," Shishido says, rolling his eyes. "You never have time for anything but your stupid music."
"I've tried to make some time to hang out, but you've been turning me down for weeks. You know this audition is important, Shishido-san! How many times do I have to tell you that?" Ohtori crosses his arms. "I thought you'd be happy for me, that I have this opportunity, but instead you're just acting like a child who's upset that he's not getting his way."
Shishido colours. "I am not!"
"You are." Ohtori's tone is calm, but the anger is clear in his voice. "I have a lot to do. I can't drop everything whenever you want to do something. I certainly don't have time to appease your temper tantrums."
"Fine!" Shishido snaps. "Don't." He stands. " I have to go meet Atobe. I'll see you sometime… I suppose." With that, Shishido heads back toward the park entrance.
"Shishido-san!" Ohtori calls out behind him. Shishido doesn't turn around.
****
Shishido slams into Atobe's bedroom, tossing his book bag onto the floor with a thump. Atobe and Oshitari are curled up next to each other on the couch underneath the picture window, books spread out around them.
"What's the matter with you?" Atobe asks from his place on the couch. Beside him, Oshitari sets his book aside and smirks.
Shishido pulls off his hat and scrubs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He flops down on the bed.
"You do seem to be rather worked up over nothing," Oshitari drawls, amusement clear in his voice.
Shishido scowls as he pulls his homework out of his bag. "It's nothing. I'm not worked up."
"If you say so," Atobe says dismissively. "Now, Oshitari, explain to me exactly what you were thinking here." He points toward the papers in his lap. "Do try and see if you can make your explanation somewhat intelligent."
Shishido turns to his math homework, tuning Atobe and Oshitari's bickering out. He only manages to make it through the first two problems before he's thinking about Ohtori again.
"Did you know that Kankotu wants Ohtori to try out for some stupid Tokyo School of Music thing?" Shishido doesn't mean to bring it up, but he can't help it. He's still fuming over the argument in the park. Ignoring Choutarou. Appeasing his temper tantrums? Hah! Choutarou's the one being a jerk, not him.
"The Tokyo School of Music high school program?" Oshitari asks. "Sakaki is recommending Ohtori for that?"
Shishido shrugs. "I guess."
"That's a very prestigious school," Atobe says.
Shishido rolls onto his back. "Who cares?"
"I'd imagine Ohtori does," Oshitari says dryly.
"Yeah, well, all he does is practice for the stupid thing. We used to play at the street courts all the time, but since he started this he never has time to do anything." Shishido stares at the ceiling, concentrating on the intricate swirls of plaster. "He quit the tennis team! I've only seen him once outside of the school hallways in weeks! He doesn't even come to lunch anymore; he just spends it in the music room."
Oshitari makes a mock-sad face. "Aw, are the two of you having a lover's spat?"
"Fuck off," Shishido snarls, throwing one of the many floofy pillows piled up on Atobe's bed at Oshitari's head.
Oshitari flings the pillow back. "Sounds like someone is jealous, if you ask me."
"Well, nobody did!" Shishido grabs another pillow.
"Stop it, both of you," Atobe commands before Shishido can throw the stupid thing. "You survived without him before, Shishido. I realize that the two of you define the word co-dependent, but I would think you'd be able to manage it again." Shishido can see Atobe giving him his best long suffering you-are-an-idiot look out of the corner of his eye.
"It's not the same," he grumbles.
Atobe raises an eyebrow.
"It's not!" Shishido protests. "This won't be for just a year. Besides, he didn't cancel all our plans then. I've barely seen him in weeks. If Choutarou gets in, forget playing tennis, we won't even see each other at all! And we're not co-dependent!"
Oshitari snorts. Shishido glares fiercely at him.
"So what?" Atobe asks. "We've already retired from the tennis team. We're graduating in March. Ohtori still has another year of high school left."
"I know that!" Shishido snaps. "But we were going to apply to the same universities. We were going to play doubles again."
Atobe leans back into the couch. "You thought you'd just wait a year and then you'd have Ohtori forever? That's ridiculous, Shishido, even for you."
"I think it's sort of romantic," Oshitari says.
Shishido sputters. "It's nothing of the sort, you moron!"
Oshitari shrugs. "I don't know… waiting for your partner until you can be together again? Seems like a pretty romantic idea to me."
"You're both morons." Atobe sighs and leans back in his chair. "Whether or not Shishido's stupidity is romantic is rather beside the point. What about after college? Ohtori can't follow you around, tennis racquet in hand, for the rest of his life. Are you really so upset because Ohtori has priorities other than you?"
"Hey," Shishido replies, stung. "I don't want Choutarou to just follow me around. And I'm not ignoring him!"
Atobe sighs. "Really? Because Ohtori was on the tennis courts with Hiyoshi last Sunday. He said he'd called you, but you'd already made other plans."
"He was hanging out with Hiyoshi?!" Shishido jerks hmself off the bed.
Atobe rolls his eyes. "Has anyone ever informed you that you are a moron, Shishido? Other than myself, of course."
Oshitari snickers. "Maybe he just needs to hear it from some more people, eh, Atobe?"
Shishido stuffs his books back into his bag. He doesn't need this crap. "Fuck you both! I'm going home." He makes sure to slam the door as hard as possible on the way out.
****
Shishido is heading into Physics class with Gakuto when a first year Shishido's never spoken to before stops them. "Shishido Ryou-senpai?"
"What do you want?" Shishido asks.
"Um…" the first year hesitates.
Shishido sighs. Gakuto is looking at the kid as though he's a particularly annoying sort of bug. "Spit it out," Shishido says. "I haven't got all day."
"Yes, senpai!" The first year clenches and unclenches his hands nervously. "You're a moron!"
Shishido's mouth drops open and the kid takes advantage of his momentary shock to start running. Beside him, Gakuto is nearly in hysterics.
Maybe he just needs to hear it from some more people, eh, Atobe? Shishido grinds his teeth. "I'm going to kill that Kansai motherfucker!"
"At least the kid knows what he's talking about," Gakuto says once he manages to stop laughing. "'You're a moron!' Oh god, you should see your face!"
"Oh, shut up." Shishido shoves him into the wall and storms into class.
****
The Hyoutei Music Club winter concert is in mid-November. Shishido's startled when Oshitari brings it up at the end of lunch one day. He's gone to all the previous concerts to watch Ohtori, but, now that he doesn't have that as a reason, he hasn't thought about it at all.
Shishido hasn't spoken to Ohtori since their argument in the park. It's been surprisingly easy. He can't decide if that's a good thing or not. Ohtori's quit the tennis club, so Shishido doesn't see him when he goes to help with doubles training. Ohtori still spends every lunch period in the music room, so Shishido doesn't see him then. Ohtori hasn't tried to call him and he certainly hasn't called Ohtori. Sometimes he has to ignore Ohtori's hurt looks in the hallways between classes, but even that has been happening less and less lately.
"I think we should all go," Oshitari says, looking around the table.
"Why?" Gakuto asks. Oshitari opens his mouth, but Gakuto cuts him off before he can speak. "Don't even bother to answer that. You all can go and be bored out of your minds for a couple hours, but I've got better things to do."
Oshitari frowns, but turns his attention across the table to Atobe. "Atobe?"
Atobe looks over. "I really think I have more productive ways to spend my time."
Oshitari gives him a look. "Are you sure?" He leans back in his chair for a moment.
Atobe jumps and makes a slightly annoyed sound. He glares fiercely at Oshitari. "I suppose my presence would be encouraging for the music club. Kabaji will come too, won't you?"
"Usu."
Shishido eyes Oshitari warily, wondering just what he had to do to get Atobe to agree to go. Ordinarily Atobe wouldn't be caught dead at one of these things. Shishido's heard Atobe's rant about the sub par musicians that go to their school and the pain of listening to them butcher the classics before, they all have.
"Jirou will come, won't you?" Oshitari reaches across the table to where Jirou is sitting next to Atobe, his head pillowed in his arms, and pokes him.
"Okay," Jirou mumbles sleepily. "Don't poke me."
Oshitari turns back to Gakuto. "Come on, Gakuto. It'll be fun."
"No way, Yuushi." Gakuto grabs his tray and stands up. "You can have fun without me. I'm going to class. See you."
"I'm with Gakuto," Shishido says as the other boy walks away. "No way."
"Don't you usually go the school concert, Shishido?" Atobe asks coolly.
Shishido shakes his head. "Not this time."
"Don't want to see your boyfriend play?" Oshitari asks him, a hint of challenge in his voice.
Shishido pushes back from the table. "I've got to go to class."
"Oh, that's right, I forgot. You're mad because he's not spending all his time with you," Oshitari says.
"Whatever, I'm not mad," Shishido sneers. "And he's not my boyfriend."
****
They take their seats, Jirou, Kabaji, then Shishido, then Atobe and Oshitari. Shishido suspects that Atobe has purposefully put him in the middle of the group to keep him from running away or something equally lame. Shishido rolls his eyes. Okay, so he didn't want to come. Maybe he only gave in after Oshitari stepped up his have-other-people-tell-Shishido-he's-a-moron campaign and promising to go was the only way Shishido could stop the barrage of first years, but he's not going to freak out and bail just because Ohtori's in the same room. He's not that pathetic. He just doesn't want to see Ohtori if he doesn't have to.
He leans back in his seat, ignoring Atobe and Oshitari's bickering, and waits for the concert to start. He's kind of tired, actually. Maybe he can take a nap.
Shishido's just managed to doze off- the seats really aren't at all comfortable- when the lights go down and the audience starts clapping in anticipation. He jolts awake and sighs. He'll never understand how Jirou, who's currently using Kabaji's arm as a pillow, can sleep through so much racket.
The curtain rises and Shishido can't help it; his eyes immediately seek out Ohtori. He looks good in his tuxedo, Shishido thinks faintly. He looks professional.
The music starts and Shishido can't find it in himself to go back to sleep. He's always secretly enjoyed Ohtori's concerts. Even though Shishido knows next to nothing about classical music, it's easy to see the passion in the draw of Ohtori's bow across the strings, in the graceful movement of his hand over the fingerboard.
Shishido's heart clenches when Ohtori stands for his solo. Suddenly, he feels like the lamest person ever. Oshitari was right, he thinks morosely. I am a moron.
Even though Shishido knows that there's no way Ohtori can see him from the stage, he finds himself hoping Ohtori will look up, will look out over the audience and find Shishido sitting there.
Ohtori doesn't, of course.
Coda
closing section of a movement
Shishido leans against the wall outside of the recital hall, arms wrapped around his waist, and tips his head back. Above him the stars are faintly glowing through the smog and lights of Tokyo. It's cold out; the wind whips around the corner of the building and he shivers, tucks his arms in tighter. Shishido knows he could wait for Ohtori inside, but he'd rather avoid the crush of students and overly excited parents in the lobby. He'd rather not have an audience for this.
He watches people slowly trickle out of the doors and into the night, heading for their cars or the subway, something to get them home. A sleek limousine pulls up to the curb and Atobe steps out of the building, followed by Oshitari and Kabaji, a sleeping Jirou slung over his shoulder. They pause on the steps and look around. Shishido knows they are probably looking for him, wondering if he really left or not. He presses back against the rough brick wall, hoping maybe they won't see him, but Atobe still catches his eye. Shishido tilts his head toward the door they've just come out of. Atobe gives a small nod in return and says something that Shishido doesn't catch before drawing the others away, leading them to the waiting car.
It can't have been all that long, but Shishido feels like he's nearly frozen solid by the time Ohtori finally steps out of the recital hall.
"Hey." Ohtori smiles cautiously. "What are you doing here, Shishido-san?"
"Waiting for you." Shishido tucks his hands into his pockets. "I came to see you play."
Ohtori tugs his scarf tighter around his neck. "It's freezing out here. Want to go inside for a minute?"
Shishido hesitates. He's shivering with the cold, but he wants to talk to Ohtori alone.
Ohtori glances toward the people milling about in the lobby. "I don't think there's anyone left backstage," he offers.
"Yeah, okay."
"Come on, then." Ohtori turns and heads back through the glass doors. "This way." Shishido follows him down the hall, past the auditorium, and through a plain wooden door. There's a short stairway and they are standing behind the thick black stage curtain surrounded by stacks of folding chairs and music stands.
Ohtori leads him over to a lone piano bench pushed against the back wall and sits down, carefully placing his violin case on the floor. "I'm glad you came."
"I wasn't sure you would be." Shishido sits down beside him and leans back against the wall. The bench is small; Shishido can feel the heat of Ohtori's body despite the space between them. "You were great, Choutarou. Really great."
"Thanks." Ohtori looks just as awkward as Shishido feels.
"I'm sorry," Shishido says. "I… I miss you." He slides his hand onto the bench, fingertips brushing against Ohtori's pant leg.
"Me too," Ohtori smiles, looks down. "I miss you too."
Shishido grins back shyly. "I know that this music thing is important to you and you should do it, but it sucks, not having you around."
"This is something I want to do, Shishido-san." Ohtori says quietly. "That doesn't mean we won't still see each other. I… I'll make time. We'll both make time." Ohtori reaches out and covers Shishido's hand with his own. "I want us to be together," he says quietly.
Shishido looks down, a faint blush staining his cheeks. "I know, Choutarou." He turns his hand over, pressing his palm against Ohtori's, and laces their fingers together.
Only in the sound can you
hear it move, the veins in the blood of
the body that is no more. The bow pulled
along the taut strings, a pitch that
is all but unbearable.
-Sheila Black, Violin
Only in the Sound
Ohtori/Shishido | PG | 6637 words
In which Ohtori chooses music and Shishido is kind of a moron.
A/N: Definitions of musical terms are taken from Wikipedia or Dictionary.com.
You must use the body - its curves,
its hollows, the spring of the sound, which
brings back what is absent, what has
been and is now gone, fading.
-Sheila Black, Violin
Prelude
a piece that precedes a more important movement
"That's enough for today. I expect each of you to obtain a more thorough knowledge of this piece before we meet again." Sakaki’s eyes sweep over the assembled students before stopping on the violin section. "Ohtori. I’d like to speak to you for a moment."
Ohtori pauses, his violin only halfway into its case. "Yes, Sakaki-san." He can feel the curious gazes of his classmates on him as they collect their things, but he's just as curious as they are. Surely he's not in trouble. The pieces they have been learning are difficult, yes, but Ohtori has worked hard and done well; he made first violin at the beginning of the autumn term.
As the last students file out, into the noisy halls of Hyoutei, Ohtori hefts his bag over his shoulder and heads toward Sakaki's desk. "Sir?"
Sakaki is sorting through a stack of papers. He doesn't look up as he speaks. "Ohtori. I must say that I am quite pleased with performance so far this year. It's rare to have a second year as first violin."
Ohtori bows lightly. "Thank you, sir. I have tried to do my best."
"Yes, well, I'm pleased by your dedication." Sakaki glances up for a moment before pulling a packet out of the stack and setting the other papers aside. "What are your plans for university?"
"U- university?" Ohtori stumbles over the word, a bit surprised.
Sakaki's tone is curt. "Yes. Surely you have given it some thought."
"Yes," Ohtori says. "Yes, I'm intending to take the entrance exams for the law programs at Tokyo University, Waseda University, and here at Hyoutei. My father thinks I should also sit the exam for Kyushuu University."
"Hmm, yes, those are all good programs." Sakaki says, tapping the packet in his hand against the desk. Ohtori swallows nervously at the sound, the soft rasp of paper against wood. He doesn't understand where this conversation is going.
"Have you ever thought about pursuing music as a career?"
Ohtori blinks, slightly taken aback. "Music, Sakaki-san?"
Sakaki nods once. "Yes."
"I have considered it," Ohtori says, "but I hadn't decided if I should seriously pursue it." He shifts his bag higher up on his shoulder. "I love music, but I know it's very difficult to make a successful career of it."
Sakaki frowns. "I'll be honest with you. I think you have the talent and the potential. However, it is difficult and you must be extremely dedicated. If this is not something that you are serious about, then you should not attempt it."
"I'm very serious about music, sir," Ohtori says. He glances at the packet Sakaki's hand, but it's angled away from him and he can't quite make out the kanji.
Sakaki notices Ohtori's look and holds out the papers in his hand. "This is from the Tokyo School of Music. They have an excellent extracurricular musical performance program for high school students. It's designed for students who are looking at studying music in university. Many students from this program go on to study at the Tokyo School of Music when they finish high school."
Ohtori gapes. The Tokyo School of Music has one of the top performance programmes in the country. He sometimes, in what he's always thought of as his more unrealistic moments, dreams of studying there.
"In order to audition, students must be recommended by a music teacher or other professional." Sakaki leans back in his chair and gives Ohtori a considering look. "I'd like to recommend you."
Ohtori bows quickly. "I would be honoured."
"Very well." Sakaki nods. "Auditions for this program are held every December, just after the end of the school term. You will be required to show proficiency in two instruments. You will present two pieces for your primary instrument, in your case I would recommend the violin, and one for your secondary instrument. I imagine you will want to choose the piano."
"Are they pieces of my choice?" Ohtori asks hesitantly. Three pieces to learn in four months is a lot, particularly on top of the pieces Ohtori already has to learn for Sakaki's class, tennis practice, and his regular classwork.
"Yes." Sakaki looks down at his watch. "There is more information in the packet I've given you. Look over it thoroughly. If you choose to take this opportunity, I expect nothing less than your best." Sakaki gestures toward the door. "You may go."
Capo
the beginning of a movement
Ohtori waits to open the packet from Tokyo School of Music until he's finished the day's homework and is safely ensconced in his room. He wants to have a chance to look over everything himself before anyone else sees it. The packet is thin, only a handful of papers. Ohtori spreads them across his bed. The first is general information about the school itself. Ohtori sets it aside.
The second paper gives basic information about the program he'd be auditioning for. Designed for third year high school students who are interested in seriously pursuing music as a career, he reads. Students will have lessons three afternoons a week and on Saturdays. There are statistics about the program's graduates- which university music programs they got accepted to, how many have gone on to make music a successful career, that sort of thing. Aside from that, there's not anything Sakaki hadn't already mentioned.
The next sheet details the audition requirements. Three pieces of Ohtori's choice, demonstrating his skill with two instruments. A letter of recommendation from his music teacher or other music professional. A signed permission slip from his parents.
Ohtori sighs. The first step is talking to his parents. There's not much point in getting excited about this before he's sure that he'll be able to audition. He knows his father is thrilled by the idea that Ohtori might follow in his footsteps and become a lawyer, but that's not the only reason Ohtori had planned to study law. It's interesting and it's a good career. His father may be disappointed, but Ohtori is cautiously optimistic. His parents know how much music means to him; surely they won't deny him the chance to try for it.
Ohtori carefully gathers up the papers. It's only half an hour until dinnertime, that should be enough time to ask his parents.
****
Even though Nationals are over and the third years have retired from the tennis club, some of the old regulars still come to practices. Ohtori and Shishido have just finished a match against Hiyoshi, who's been named captain now that the third years have retired from the club, and Nakajima, one of the new regulars, when Sakaki stops by.
"Ohtori," he says as Ohtori grabs his water bottle off the bench. "I'd like to speak with you for a moment."
Ohtori feels a flutter of nervous excitement. The permission slip from his parents is in his school bag, carefully tucked away with the rest of the papers from the Tokyo School of Music. "Yes, Kankotu. I'll see you at lunch, Shishido-san?" Shishido gives him a curious look, but nods before heading to the club room to change.
Sakaki waits until the courts are mostly empty before speaking. "Have you looked over the information I gave you?"
Ohtori stuffs his racquet into his tennis bag and zips it closed. "Yes."
Sakaki sighs. "And?"
"Oh!" Ohtori blushes. "I'd like to audition. My parents have already signed the permission form."
"Very good," Sakaki says. "Choose the pieces you intend to perform carefully. I have some sheet music in my office that you may look through should you need to. Once you have selected them we will discuss if they are appropriate or not."
****
"So what did Sakaki want with you this morning?" Shishido asks as soon as Ohtori sits down for lunch. Today they're sitting outside, behind Hyoutei's main building, just the two of them. Usually they eat lunch in the cafeteria if they feel like hanging out with all their friends or in Ohtori's classroom if they don't, but their private lunches are Ohtori's favourite. It's nice to have this time that they don't have to share with anyone.
Ohtori settles into the grass and opens his bento. "He wants me to audition for a music program. He was asking if I'd decided to do it or not."
Shishido quirks an eyebrow. "Are you?"
Ohtori nods.
"What sort of program is it?"
"I've got the information in my bag if you want to see it," Ohtori replies.
"Nah," Shishido says. "Just tell me about it, Choutarou."
Ohtori does. He tells Shishido everything he knows about it, which is probably way more information than Shishido expected or wanted. Everything Sakaki told him and everything the packet said. He tells him that it's a very elite program- there's only seventy-five spots even though they take students from the entire Kantou region and you have to be recommended for it to even be able to audition. He tells him that he's already started thinking of what music he'd like to play.
"And then I asked my parents and they said it was okay as long as I still take the regular university entrance exams. Which, of course I will, but hopefully, if I pass the audition and do well in the program I'll be able to study music after graduation. The packet said that most of last years' students got into their top choice of university music programs."
Shishido's looking a little shell shocked at the barrage of information by the time Ohtori finally winds down, but he finally says, "Congratulations, Choutarou. That's awesome."
"I guess I'm a little excited," Ohtori says sheepishly. He smiles at Shishido. "Sorry."
Shishido smiles back, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
****
Ohtori chooses Chopin's Fantaisie-Impromptu for the piano. That's a fairly easy decision; he loves Chopin. Choosing what to play for his violin pieces is much more difficult. He spends every lunch period for a week in Sakaki's office, poring over sheet music and debating the merits of various pieces. Finally he decides to play Bach's Partita No.3 and the third movement from Bartok's Solo Violin Sonata.
He throws himself into learning the pieces.
****
Ohtori's sliding his street shoes into the school shoe rack one morning when Shishido comes up beside him. "Choutarou!"
"Shishido-san!" Ohtori fumbles, dropping one shoe to the ground. "I didn't see you there." He leans down and picks up the shoe.
Shishido runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."
Ohtori fits his shoe neatly in place and hoists his school bag onto his shoulder. "It's okay, I just wasn't paying attention. What's up?"
"Haven't seen you at lunch all week," Shishido says. "I thought you might want to eat outside today."
Another student comes up, shoes already in hand, and Shishido and Ohtori step away from the rack.
"Actually, I was planning on going to the music room during lunch," Ohtori says as they start walking down the hall.
Shishido frowns. "What for? I thought you'd already chosen what you're going to play."
"I have, but now I have to learn to play the pieces and I only have a few months. I probably won't have a lot of free time between now and December," Ohtori says apologetically. A group of girls walks past and Ohtori steps closer to Shishido in order to avoid bumping into them.
"Oh." Shishido moves slightly closer to the wall. "So, no lunch then?"
"I'm sorry, Shishido-san," Ohtori replies, "but I really do need to practice. I want to do my best at the audition, so I need to take advantage of any extra time I do have." Ohtori would prefer to tell Shishido that he'd love to eat outside today, but he knows he's going to need the extra practice. "You could come to the music room too, if you wanted," he offers.
Shishido frowns again. "Nah. If you don't want to come to lunch I'll just go eat with everybody else. I'd better go to class. See you." He turns and heads back the way they came.
"O… okay," Ohtori says to Shishido's retreating back. He's trying not to show it, but he's disappointed. Watching him practice probably wouldn't be that interesting for Shishido, but Ohtori still wishes he'd said yes.
****
There is more work than Ohtori had expected there to be. Only a month in and his head is full of bow positions and fingering; he finds himself absently tapping out rhythms on his desk during class and bouncing tennis balls against his racquet in 2/2 time during practice. He scrawls musical notation on his trigonometry homework and quadratic functions on his sheet music.
Spending his lunch breaks in the music room, eating quickly before starting in on the music, soon becomes a habit for Ohtori. Some days he meets with Sakaki during lunch, goes over and over the pieces, playing the bits he has the most trouble with as Sakaki points out his mistakes and adjusts his positioning. Occasionally Hiyoshi eats with him and stays to listen as he does paperwork for the tennis club. Usually, Ohtori's alone. Just him and his violin, going over the notes again and again.
Between tennis, school work, practicing for Hyoutei's music club, and practicing for the audition, Ohtori feels like he barely has time to even sleep. He keeps reminding himself that'll he'll have more free time once the audition is over, but he misses his friends, particularly Shishido.
He's been keeping Sunday afternoons free as best he can, but, even so, he's hardly seen Shishido outside of tennis practice in ages.
It sucks, but Ohtori's managing. Or at least he thinks he is, until Sakaki calls him in to his office one day after music class.
"Ohtori," Sakaki says as Ohtori shuts the door behind him. "I'd like to talk about your performance in class."
"Is there a problem?" Ohtori asks.
"Unfortunately," Sakaki replies. "I'm pleased with the progress you've made on your audition pieces, but your performance in class has not been at the level I expect from you and certainly not the level I expect from my first violin."
Ohtori flushes. "I'm sorry, Sakaki-san. I've been very busy, but I'll do my best to improve."
"See that you do." Sakaki fixes Ohtori with a stern look. "I understand that you have a lot of work, but, if you wish to be successful, you need to determine your priorities."
Ohtori leaves Sakaki's office with a sinking heart.
He spends the rest of the day going over and over his options in his head. He thinks about it all throughout his remaining classes and that afternoon's tennis practice. He knows Sakaki's right. He wants to give his absolute best, but he's slipping. Something's got to give.
Realistically, there's only one thing that Ohtori can let go. He can't just quit doing his homework; he needs to do well in school, and he can't quit the music club, not if he wants Sakaki's recommendation to audition for the Tokyo School of Music. Ohtori may not have thought that he'd seriously have a shot at becoming a professional musician, but he's dreamed about it. He wants this.
He hangs back to speak to Hiyoshi after tennis practice.
Stringendo
tightening, narrowing; an acceleration of the tempo
Without tennis practice to occupy his mornings and afternoons, Ohtori's workload is much easier to manage. He still doesn't have a lot of free time, but it's been much easier only concentrating on two things, music and school.
He's finally managed to play the Bartok piece all the way through with no major mistakes or missed notes. Of course, it still needs a lot more work- it's not perfect yet- but he's feeling quite proud of himself. Ohtori sets his violin carefully into its case. It's still early afternoon; he really should keep going, keeping working and play the piece again, but he's ready for a break.
He picks up the phone and dials Shishido's number. It's been too long since they've spent anytime together. Ohtori figures he can spare the time to play a one set match at the street courts or maybe they can play video games for awhile.
Shishido answers on the third ring. "Choutarou?"
"Hey," Ohtori says with a smile. "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out for a little bit?"
"Don't you have to practice your music?"
"Yes, but I've been making good progress. I thought I could spare a couple hours. Do you want to come over?" Ohtori looks over at his closet, eyeing his tennis bag. "Or we could play a quick match at the street courts."
Shishido is silent for a moment. "I don't know, Choutarou," he finally says. "I thought you quit tennis. And didn't you say you needed all the practice you could get?"
"Well, yes," Ohtori replies. "But-"
"I'm kind of busy anyway. I'll talk to you later." With that Shishido hangs up.
Ohtori pulls the phone away from his ear and stares blankly at it. He knows that he shouldn't have expected Shishido to drop everything for him, but he can't help but be hurt by Shishido's cool dismissal.
****
Shishido stops Ohtori as he's leaving school a week later. "Sorry I couldn't go play with you last week," he says.
"It's okay. I know you've got things to do too," Ohtori tells him.
"Yeah…" Shishido trails off. "Anyway, I kind of want to see that yakuza movie that just came out. Want to go?"
"I really shouldn't, Shishido-san." Ohtori says. "I'd like to, but I really don't have the time. I've got a lot of math homework that I need to finish tonight and Sakaki wants to hear me play my both violin pieces on Friday. I need to work on them some more."
"You can't even stop for a little bit?" Shishido asks hopefully.
"I'm sorry, Shishido-san, I really can't today."
Shishido's face falls. "Okay. I'll find someone else to go."
"Maybe we could go on Sunday instead?" Ohtori suggests.
Shishido shrugs."Eh, maybe. I'll see you later." He heads back into the building.
Ohtori sighs. He really doesn't have the time, but he feels terrible.
When he sees Shishido at school the next day he's standing outside the cafeteria doors, telling a bemused Oshitari how much Atobe had hated the movie when they'd gone to see it last night.
Ohtori stops, surprised. "You went to that yakuza movie you were talking about yesterday?"
Oshitari glances between them quickly and slips into the cafeteria, leaving Ohtori and Shishido looking awkwardly at each other.
"Yeah, I, um, I saw it with Atobe." Shishido finally says. He fidgets with the strap of his bag. "I was just about to go in to lunch. I suppose you're going to the music room again?"
"Yeah." Ohtori says. "Yeah, do you want to come with me?"
"That's okay. I wouldn't want to interfere with your practice time." Shishido pulls open the cafeteria door, the chatter of the students within spilling out into the hall. "I've got to buy my lunch today anyway."
Ohtori watches the door swing shut with a heavy heart.
****
Ohtori can see the tennis courts from the windows of the music room. When he stops playing he can hear faint voices and the thwack of balls on the court. He misses tennis, but Hiyoshi made him promise that if he doesn't make the cut at the audition he'll rejoin the team when the new school year starts.
He likes to watch when he needs a break from playing. It's interesting to see the matches from this angle instead of court level, the rhythm in the yellow flash of the ball across the hard court, in the whistle of air over the net, in the swing and steps of the players. It's soothing in a way he hadn't expected.
Today, though, watching practice is anything but soothing. Hiyoshi's brought back some of the third years to help the new doubles teams. Ohtori can see the flash of Mukahi's red hair every time he jumps, the glint of Oshitari's glasses as they catch the light. Shishido, handing Nakajima a towel, both of them flushed with triumph as a pair of second year pre-regulars slump on the opposite side of the net. Shishido has all but ignored him since the last time Ohtori asked him to lunch in the music room.
He misses tennis, but it's the lack of Shishido that settles like an ache in his bones.
Ohtori turns away from the window, picks up his bow and draws it quietly across the strings. The lone note hangs in the stillness of the air.
Crescendo
a steady increase in intensity or force
"Shishido-san! I want to talk to you," Ohtori calls out as he follows Shishido to the bus stop after school. "Do you need to go home right away?"
Shishido stops, but doesn't turn around. It's the first time Ohtori's managed to catch him alone in nearly a month. Not that Shishido's been ignoring him or anything. He's just been busy. Choutarou's not the only one that has better things to do. "What is it, Choutarou? I'm supposed to go study at Atobe's."
"Oh." The disappointment is clear in Ohtori's voice.
Shishido sighs, slowly pivoting until he's facing Ohtori. "What did you want to talk about? It won't kill Atobe if I'm a little late."
Ohtori smiles. "Want to go to the park for a while? We could get some ice cream and then you could go to Atobe's from there."
"Yeah, okay." Shishido doesn't really feel like talking to Ohtori, but he doesn't want to just leave now that he's finally got Ohtori's attention. He's barely even seen Ohtori in ages and Shishido's still practically jumping at the first chance he has to spend time with him. God, he's so lame.
Ohtori falls in to step beside Shishido and they head toward the park. Several times Ohtori opens his mouth as though he wants to say something, but he always shuts it without speaking. Shishido says nothing at all.
As they reach the park entrance, Ohtori points toward a vendor on the sidewalk. "Do you want an ice cream, Shishido-san?"
"Not really." Shishido stuffs his hands in his pockets. He does want an ice cream, but he barely has enough money for his bus fare. He knows that Ohtori would happily buy them both ice creams if he mentions his lack of funds, but Shishido's too pissed off. He doesn't want anything from Ohtori right now.
Ohtori shrugs. "Okay. There's a bench just over here a bit." He turns slightly to the right, the dry autumn grass crunching beneath his feet, and Shishido follows.
They sit side by side on the bench, Ohtori gazing out across the park, Shishido absently scuffing his shoes in the dirt. Finally Ohtori sighs. "What's going on, Shishido-san?"
"What do you mean?" Shishido asks.
Ohtori looks down. "It's... it's just… I know we're both busy, but it feels like you've been ignoring me."
"I never see you anymore, Choutarou! You're supposed to be my best friend, but you're always practicing for your lame audition," Shishido spits out.
"It is not lame!" Ohtori looks over, his eyes flashing in indignation. "That audition is very important. I have to practice."
"Whatever." Shishido kicks at a rock on the ground. "You never have time to do anything but practice, you spend all your time in the music room and barely even speak to me at school, we don't even play tennis anymore!"
Ohtori sighs, obviously frustrated. "I have to practice, Shishido-san. This is important! I really want to do well at this audition, you know that. Maybe I don't have as much free time as you or I would like right now, but it's temporary. I'll have time again once the audition's over. I just don't understand why this is so difficult."
"It's not difficult," Shishido says. "I'm not ignoring you." He keeps his gaze firmly on the ground.
"What is it then?" Ohtori asks. "Because I don't understand why you're acting like this."
"Acting like what?" Shishido scowls.
"Like I've done something wrong!"
"You're the one who's been ignoring me, Choutarou!"
Ohtori's expression hardens. "I have not. I've been busy; I have a lot of work to do between the audition and school, but I'm not ignoring you."
"Whatever," Shishido says, rolling his eyes. "You never have time for anything but your stupid music."
"I've tried to make some time to hang out, but you've been turning me down for weeks. You know this audition is important, Shishido-san! How many times do I have to tell you that?" Ohtori crosses his arms. "I thought you'd be happy for me, that I have this opportunity, but instead you're just acting like a child who's upset that he's not getting his way."
Shishido colours. "I am not!"
"You are." Ohtori's tone is calm, but the anger is clear in his voice. "I have a lot to do. I can't drop everything whenever you want to do something. I certainly don't have time to appease your temper tantrums."
"Fine!" Shishido snaps. "Don't." He stands. " I have to go meet Atobe. I'll see you sometime… I suppose." With that, Shishido heads back toward the park entrance.
"Shishido-san!" Ohtori calls out behind him. Shishido doesn't turn around.
****
Shishido slams into Atobe's bedroom, tossing his book bag onto the floor with a thump. Atobe and Oshitari are curled up next to each other on the couch underneath the picture window, books spread out around them.
"What's the matter with you?" Atobe asks from his place on the couch. Beside him, Oshitari sets his book aside and smirks.
Shishido pulls off his hat and scrubs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He flops down on the bed.
"You do seem to be rather worked up over nothing," Oshitari drawls, amusement clear in his voice.
Shishido scowls as he pulls his homework out of his bag. "It's nothing. I'm not worked up."
"If you say so," Atobe says dismissively. "Now, Oshitari, explain to me exactly what you were thinking here." He points toward the papers in his lap. "Do try and see if you can make your explanation somewhat intelligent."
Shishido turns to his math homework, tuning Atobe and Oshitari's bickering out. He only manages to make it through the first two problems before he's thinking about Ohtori again.
"Did you know that Kankotu wants Ohtori to try out for some stupid Tokyo School of Music thing?" Shishido doesn't mean to bring it up, but he can't help it. He's still fuming over the argument in the park. Ignoring Choutarou. Appeasing his temper tantrums? Hah! Choutarou's the one being a jerk, not him.
"The Tokyo School of Music high school program?" Oshitari asks. "Sakaki is recommending Ohtori for that?"
Shishido shrugs. "I guess."
"That's a very prestigious school," Atobe says.
Shishido rolls onto his back. "Who cares?"
"I'd imagine Ohtori does," Oshitari says dryly.
"Yeah, well, all he does is practice for the stupid thing. We used to play at the street courts all the time, but since he started this he never has time to do anything." Shishido stares at the ceiling, concentrating on the intricate swirls of plaster. "He quit the tennis team! I've only seen him once outside of the school hallways in weeks! He doesn't even come to lunch anymore; he just spends it in the music room."
Oshitari makes a mock-sad face. "Aw, are the two of you having a lover's spat?"
"Fuck off," Shishido snarls, throwing one of the many floofy pillows piled up on Atobe's bed at Oshitari's head.
Oshitari flings the pillow back. "Sounds like someone is jealous, if you ask me."
"Well, nobody did!" Shishido grabs another pillow.
"Stop it, both of you," Atobe commands before Shishido can throw the stupid thing. "You survived without him before, Shishido. I realize that the two of you define the word co-dependent, but I would think you'd be able to manage it again." Shishido can see Atobe giving him his best long suffering you-are-an-idiot look out of the corner of his eye.
"It's not the same," he grumbles.
Atobe raises an eyebrow.
"It's not!" Shishido protests. "This won't be for just a year. Besides, he didn't cancel all our plans then. I've barely seen him in weeks. If Choutarou gets in, forget playing tennis, we won't even see each other at all! And we're not co-dependent!"
Oshitari snorts. Shishido glares fiercely at him.
"So what?" Atobe asks. "We've already retired from the tennis team. We're graduating in March. Ohtori still has another year of high school left."
"I know that!" Shishido snaps. "But we were going to apply to the same universities. We were going to play doubles again."
Atobe leans back into the couch. "You thought you'd just wait a year and then you'd have Ohtori forever? That's ridiculous, Shishido, even for you."
"I think it's sort of romantic," Oshitari says.
Shishido sputters. "It's nothing of the sort, you moron!"
Oshitari shrugs. "I don't know… waiting for your partner until you can be together again? Seems like a pretty romantic idea to me."
"You're both morons." Atobe sighs and leans back in his chair. "Whether or not Shishido's stupidity is romantic is rather beside the point. What about after college? Ohtori can't follow you around, tennis racquet in hand, for the rest of his life. Are you really so upset because Ohtori has priorities other than you?"
"Hey," Shishido replies, stung. "I don't want Choutarou to just follow me around. And I'm not ignoring him!"
Atobe sighs. "Really? Because Ohtori was on the tennis courts with Hiyoshi last Sunday. He said he'd called you, but you'd already made other plans."
"He was hanging out with Hiyoshi?!" Shishido jerks hmself off the bed.
Atobe rolls his eyes. "Has anyone ever informed you that you are a moron, Shishido? Other than myself, of course."
Oshitari snickers. "Maybe he just needs to hear it from some more people, eh, Atobe?"
Shishido stuffs his books back into his bag. He doesn't need this crap. "Fuck you both! I'm going home." He makes sure to slam the door as hard as possible on the way out.
****
Shishido is heading into Physics class with Gakuto when a first year Shishido's never spoken to before stops them. "Shishido Ryou-senpai?"
"What do you want?" Shishido asks.
"Um…" the first year hesitates.
Shishido sighs. Gakuto is looking at the kid as though he's a particularly annoying sort of bug. "Spit it out," Shishido says. "I haven't got all day."
"Yes, senpai!" The first year clenches and unclenches his hands nervously. "You're a moron!"
Shishido's mouth drops open and the kid takes advantage of his momentary shock to start running. Beside him, Gakuto is nearly in hysterics.
Maybe he just needs to hear it from some more people, eh, Atobe? Shishido grinds his teeth. "I'm going to kill that Kansai motherfucker!"
"At least the kid knows what he's talking about," Gakuto says once he manages to stop laughing. "'You're a moron!' Oh god, you should see your face!"
"Oh, shut up." Shishido shoves him into the wall and storms into class.
****
The Hyoutei Music Club winter concert is in mid-November. Shishido's startled when Oshitari brings it up at the end of lunch one day. He's gone to all the previous concerts to watch Ohtori, but, now that he doesn't have that as a reason, he hasn't thought about it at all.
Shishido hasn't spoken to Ohtori since their argument in the park. It's been surprisingly easy. He can't decide if that's a good thing or not. Ohtori's quit the tennis club, so Shishido doesn't see him when he goes to help with doubles training. Ohtori still spends every lunch period in the music room, so Shishido doesn't see him then. Ohtori hasn't tried to call him and he certainly hasn't called Ohtori. Sometimes he has to ignore Ohtori's hurt looks in the hallways between classes, but even that has been happening less and less lately.
"I think we should all go," Oshitari says, looking around the table.
"Why?" Gakuto asks. Oshitari opens his mouth, but Gakuto cuts him off before he can speak. "Don't even bother to answer that. You all can go and be bored out of your minds for a couple hours, but I've got better things to do."
Oshitari frowns, but turns his attention across the table to Atobe. "Atobe?"
Atobe looks over. "I really think I have more productive ways to spend my time."
Oshitari gives him a look. "Are you sure?" He leans back in his chair for a moment.
Atobe jumps and makes a slightly annoyed sound. He glares fiercely at Oshitari. "I suppose my presence would be encouraging for the music club. Kabaji will come too, won't you?"
"Usu."
Shishido eyes Oshitari warily, wondering just what he had to do to get Atobe to agree to go. Ordinarily Atobe wouldn't be caught dead at one of these things. Shishido's heard Atobe's rant about the sub par musicians that go to their school and the pain of listening to them butcher the classics before, they all have.
"Jirou will come, won't you?" Oshitari reaches across the table to where Jirou is sitting next to Atobe, his head pillowed in his arms, and pokes him.
"Okay," Jirou mumbles sleepily. "Don't poke me."
Oshitari turns back to Gakuto. "Come on, Gakuto. It'll be fun."
"No way, Yuushi." Gakuto grabs his tray and stands up. "You can have fun without me. I'm going to class. See you."
"I'm with Gakuto," Shishido says as the other boy walks away. "No way."
"Don't you usually go the school concert, Shishido?" Atobe asks coolly.
Shishido shakes his head. "Not this time."
"Don't want to see your boyfriend play?" Oshitari asks him, a hint of challenge in his voice.
Shishido pushes back from the table. "I've got to go to class."
"Oh, that's right, I forgot. You're mad because he's not spending all his time with you," Oshitari says.
"Whatever, I'm not mad," Shishido sneers. "And he's not my boyfriend."
****
They take their seats, Jirou, Kabaji, then Shishido, then Atobe and Oshitari. Shishido suspects that Atobe has purposefully put him in the middle of the group to keep him from running away or something equally lame. Shishido rolls his eyes. Okay, so he didn't want to come. Maybe he only gave in after Oshitari stepped up his have-other-people-tell-Shishido-he's-a-moron campaign and promising to go was the only way Shishido could stop the barrage of first years, but he's not going to freak out and bail just because Ohtori's in the same room. He's not that pathetic. He just doesn't want to see Ohtori if he doesn't have to.
He leans back in his seat, ignoring Atobe and Oshitari's bickering, and waits for the concert to start. He's kind of tired, actually. Maybe he can take a nap.
Shishido's just managed to doze off- the seats really aren't at all comfortable- when the lights go down and the audience starts clapping in anticipation. He jolts awake and sighs. He'll never understand how Jirou, who's currently using Kabaji's arm as a pillow, can sleep through so much racket.
The curtain rises and Shishido can't help it; his eyes immediately seek out Ohtori. He looks good in his tuxedo, Shishido thinks faintly. He looks professional.
The music starts and Shishido can't find it in himself to go back to sleep. He's always secretly enjoyed Ohtori's concerts. Even though Shishido knows next to nothing about classical music, it's easy to see the passion in the draw of Ohtori's bow across the strings, in the graceful movement of his hand over the fingerboard.
Shishido's heart clenches when Ohtori stands for his solo. Suddenly, he feels like the lamest person ever. Oshitari was right, he thinks morosely. I am a moron.
Even though Shishido knows that there's no way Ohtori can see him from the stage, he finds himself hoping Ohtori will look up, will look out over the audience and find Shishido sitting there.
Ohtori doesn't, of course.
Coda
closing section of a movement
Shishido leans against the wall outside of the recital hall, arms wrapped around his waist, and tips his head back. Above him the stars are faintly glowing through the smog and lights of Tokyo. It's cold out; the wind whips around the corner of the building and he shivers, tucks his arms in tighter. Shishido knows he could wait for Ohtori inside, but he'd rather avoid the crush of students and overly excited parents in the lobby. He'd rather not have an audience for this.
He watches people slowly trickle out of the doors and into the night, heading for their cars or the subway, something to get them home. A sleek limousine pulls up to the curb and Atobe steps out of the building, followed by Oshitari and Kabaji, a sleeping Jirou slung over his shoulder. They pause on the steps and look around. Shishido knows they are probably looking for him, wondering if he really left or not. He presses back against the rough brick wall, hoping maybe they won't see him, but Atobe still catches his eye. Shishido tilts his head toward the door they've just come out of. Atobe gives a small nod in return and says something that Shishido doesn't catch before drawing the others away, leading them to the waiting car.
It can't have been all that long, but Shishido feels like he's nearly frozen solid by the time Ohtori finally steps out of the recital hall.
"Hey." Ohtori smiles cautiously. "What are you doing here, Shishido-san?"
"Waiting for you." Shishido tucks his hands into his pockets. "I came to see you play."
Ohtori tugs his scarf tighter around his neck. "It's freezing out here. Want to go inside for a minute?"
Shishido hesitates. He's shivering with the cold, but he wants to talk to Ohtori alone.
Ohtori glances toward the people milling about in the lobby. "I don't think there's anyone left backstage," he offers.
"Yeah, okay."
"Come on, then." Ohtori turns and heads back through the glass doors. "This way." Shishido follows him down the hall, past the auditorium, and through a plain wooden door. There's a short stairway and they are standing behind the thick black stage curtain surrounded by stacks of folding chairs and music stands.
Ohtori leads him over to a lone piano bench pushed against the back wall and sits down, carefully placing his violin case on the floor. "I'm glad you came."
"I wasn't sure you would be." Shishido sits down beside him and leans back against the wall. The bench is small; Shishido can feel the heat of Ohtori's body despite the space between them. "You were great, Choutarou. Really great."
"Thanks." Ohtori looks just as awkward as Shishido feels.
"I'm sorry," Shishido says. "I… I miss you." He slides his hand onto the bench, fingertips brushing against Ohtori's pant leg.
"Me too," Ohtori smiles, looks down. "I miss you too."
Shishido grins back shyly. "I know that this music thing is important to you and you should do it, but it sucks, not having you around."
"This is something I want to do, Shishido-san." Ohtori says quietly. "That doesn't mean we won't still see each other. I… I'll make time. We'll both make time." Ohtori reaches out and covers Shishido's hand with his own. "I want us to be together," he says quietly.
Shishido looks down, a faint blush staining his cheeks. "I know, Choutarou." He turns his hand over, pressing his palm against Ohtori's, and laces their fingers together.
Only in the sound can you
hear it move, the veins in the blood of
the body that is no more. The bow pulled
along the taut strings, a pitch that
is all but unbearable.
-Sheila Black, Violin