The king of instruments — which instrument came to mind with that title?
It had started as a fairly trivial topic, but it became a pretty serious discussion.
For the final event of the year, our school will be holding a music festival in March. The main feature of the festival was a choir competition between the classes, but we were also planning on performing a Bach cantata – with the help of volunteers – at the end of the event. It was something we were currently practicing, even.
We had gathered these volunteers through Hanazono-sensei’s popularity as well as through the power (?) of Shizuki’s sales pitch. Inevitably, however, a number of these volunteers were students who had not chosen music as an elective, so most of them knew little about the subject. As a result, I was often asked fairly irrelevant questions during practice – such as “Where did the weird shape of the treble clef come from?” or “Isn’t this supposed to be the symbol for tone?” or “Why do musical notes start from ‘Do’ when the letter A denotes ‘La’?” – that would derail the session.
While it was troublesome to be sidetracked, it was still pretty interesting getting to see a new perspective on things.
During one such time, I was explaining how Bach was not very famous as a composer but rather as an organist during his life and how he was not very wealthy as a result. Upon hearing that, a second-year upperclassman spoke up.
“But isn’t the organ the king of instruments? Shouldn’t he have made a lot of money?”
“Huh? Did you say ‘king of instruments’?”
Another student chimed in.
“By organ, you mean like those?”
Someone else said, pointing at the two electric organs sitting side-by-side against the wall of the music. They were smaller than an upright piano, so a title as grand as ‘king of instruments’ seemed rather unfitting.
“No, not those, but like the big ones you see in churches, the ones that are so big they look like they’re part of the building.”
They had meant the pipe organ. That was more fitting of the title, at least in terms of size.
“Wait, isn’t the piano the king of instruments?”
“I thought it was the violin.”
And from there, a number of arguments began, delaying practice for some time.
After classes had let out later that day, our usual group of four gathered for a band meeting at the music room as always. There I brought up the topic that had come up earlier.
“The king of instruments? It should be obvious: it’s the grand piano.”
Rinko the pianist immediately answered.
“And if you google ‘king of instruments,’ pianos are the most common result.”
“Now hold on! You can’t just decide something like that through a majority vote!”
For some reason, Akane had forcefully joined in.
“For me, in this day and age, the king of instruments has to be the guitar! Specifically, the electric guitar!”
Akane caressed the guitar case she had on her as she proudly declared.
“After all, no other instrument has the same kind of expressive power. Sure, the piano can do a bunch of convenient things, but in the end, it’s only got one tone.”
“The tone only changes because of effectors. The piano can do the same with its pedals.”
“I’m not talking about just effectors! You wouldn’t get it since you’re not a guitarist, Rin-chan, but the guitar is an instrument where you’re in direct contact with the sound, so the way you play it changes everything!”
“Then by logic, I can say the same thing, Akane — since you’re not a pianist, you would not understand this, but the sound of the piano itself changes depending on how you play it.”
“Okay, but remember when we played Prokofiev, how I had to play most of it? I wouldn’t have been able to do that if the guitar wasn’t the king of instruments!”
“And I managed all of that with just this single piano. That goes to show how much better the piano is compared to other instruments.”
Meanwhile from the side, Shizuki was smiling as she watched the two continue to argue.
“You’re not joining in?” I asked.
“Even I think it would be a bit much to claim the drum is the king of instruments.”
Shizuki answered, turning an elegant smile toward me.
“And besides, no matter what might be said, in a performance, the drums are simply irreplaceable — in other words, regardless of whether it is the piano or the guitar that is king, both need their castle – the drums – to support them.”
“…Since we got that mature answer out of Shizu-chan, we should just end it there.”
“Oh well; it wasn’t very interesting to keep the joke going anyway.”
And just like that, Akane and Rinko’s ‘argument’ was over, with neither appearing disappointed.
“Anyway, people sure love talking about that kind of thing. The person who first mentioned it doesn’t actually know much about music. They just happened to remember hearing that the organ was called the king of instruments.”
“That’s ’cause it’s always exciting to rate and rank things.”
“It’s impossible to come to a conclusion that satisfies everyone, so why does it always come up anyway..?”
Rinko immediately answered my casual mumble with an indifferent remark.
“It always comes up because there’s no definite answer.”
“Hmm, I guess that’s true.”
“Say, for example, you asked who the king of pianists is. If you asked me, I would say it’s Pollini, while others might say it’s Rubinstein or Richter. And there might be others who say it’s Rachmaninoff, without knowing who he is. The same goes for the king of violinists. For me, that would be… Heifetz, but there are people who say it’s Joachim or Auer. And in the case of the king of cellists, nine out of ten people will agree that it’s Casals, but there are definitely people who think the title belongs to Rostropovich instead.”
“And there are probably about ten people you could call the ‘king of jazz’,” Shizuki added, “Some say it is Benny Goodman, while others name Miles Davis or Louis Armstrong. Jazz lovers can argue all night over it.”
Both of them rattled off a bunch of names, but since neither classical nor jazz were my focus, none of it meant anything to me. These two sure could be music-obsessed idiots, too…
“Everyone will agree on who the king of rock is, though.”
Akane’s sudden claim caught me by surprise.
“The king of rock? Is it the Beatles? But there’s more than just them — Elvis Presley, the Rolling Stones, Chuck Berry… I remember Michael Jackson being called that, too.”
“Nope, wrong! The answer is, the rock artist whose name literally means king!”
“What the, you meant Ousama1?! No wonder why everyone would agree!”
In the middle of our silly conversation, the door to the music room suddenly slid open, and in rushed Komori-sensei. It seemed she had been looking for us, because her expression visibly relaxed when she saw we were here.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re all here!”
Up until last year, Komori-sensei had been a college student; because of how young she looked, when she took a seat at one of the nearby desks to join us, she looked almost no different from any other female student at our school.
“I wanted to ask, what instruments can each of you play in an orchestra?”
We exchanged glances at her sudden question. Orchestra, she had said — did she mean what we played in our band, Paradise Noise Orchestra?
“I’m on the bass, but I can play the guitar or the keyboard, but… Wait, don’t you already know our roles, Komori-sensei?”
“Oh, no, not PNO but an actual, uh… oh, I meant a classical orchestra! The kind with a full ensemble!”
That made even less sense than before.
“So like for classical music? I don’t know anything about that.”
“I’m the same; I can only play the piano,” Rinko answered.
“I’ve played the violin before, for a little while,” Akane said. That surprised me, though not as much as Komori-sensei’s excited reply did.
“So you can play the violin? That’s perfect!”
“As for me, I have practiced playing the timpani. Grandfather told me to learn it because it’s used in big jazz bands.”
“You know how to play the timpani? Oh, what a relief!”
By now Komori-sensei was bouncing up and down in her chair.
“So here’s the thing: an acquaintance’s orchestra is in big trouble.. because they don’t have enough members!”
*
The Animal Trail Symphony Orchestra was an amateur orchestra based in the same ward Rinko’s apartment was located in, and on the Sunday of that week, we visited the local community center they used for practice, which was two stations away from our school.
The average age of the group seemed rather high; the youngest member was around my dad’s age, while many members appeared to be grandfathers who had retired and were playing in this group as a hobby.
“Why, hello there. Thank you so much for coming today.”
An elderly man with white eyebrows and a white beard greeted the four of us band members as well as Komori-sensei, who had accompanied us.
“Ah, what nice students you’ve got, Komori-sensei. I was not expecting you to bring four cute girls to practice. Why, I imagine today’s practice will be livelier than ever with them!”
Wait, four girls..? But… I was wearing normal clothes today..?
“It seems Makoto-san has crossdressed so much that he’s practically become a girl, huh?” Shizuki giggled as she whispered terrifying words. Oh no no no..!
“I told them I found some high school girls that could help, but maybe they misunderstood because I wasn’t specific,” Komori-sensei explained. That made more sense at least; there surely wasn’t anything wrong with me…
But after hearing the explanation, Rinko had something else to add in a hushed whisper.
“There surely isn’t anything to misunderstand here; the problem here is simply Murase-kun himself.”
“Hey, you can’t just say things like that! Not when I’m trying not to think about it!”
I retorted before looking around the room the group had reserved for practice.
It seemed to be a normal conference room, though the long tables had been moved against the wall to make more space, leaving just folding chairs arranged in rows and larger instruments – such as the timpani and double bass- in place. There were also members of the orchestra scattered around the room, chatting away as they prepared string or wind instruments.
“…Is the soundproofing in this room going to be enough?”
A concern suddenly came to mind, and I turned to ask the white-bearded man that greeted us, but he simply chuckled.
“There is actually no soundproofing at all. This is a completely ordinary room. The staff did ask that we practice as quietly as possible, but that would be quite impossible, I imagine.”
“Right…”
“Though, they treat classical music as something sophisticated and, well, classy, so as long as we don’t play too badly, I’m sure they will see it as rather healthy and mentally-stimulating. That being said, we are quite grateful there is this misunderstanding that lets us play loud music in the middle of a community center.”
So that was it then. It wouldn’t have been that easy if they had been playing something like rock music instead, I guess.
“Oh, and excuse me for forgetting to introduce myself. My name is Okonogi; I’m the leader of this group, and I play the bass.”
I took his proffered hand in a firm grip, before he moved on to shake hands with Akane, Shizuki, and Rinko in turn. So he must be on the double bass. I recalled the feel of his hand – a bassist’s hand – in mine; there was a kind of tenacious strength in it, a steady power that had carried the weight of its fellow instruments in this orchestra for many years.
“And I’ve heard you were all students of Hanazono-sensei as well.”
Actually, Shizuki had technically never taken any of Hanazono-sensei’s classes before, though it wasn’t wrong to still say Shizuki counted as one of her students. After all, up until last summer, all of us had spent quite a lot of time with Hanazono-sensei.
“She really gave us some good connections, like Komori-sensei and many people here.”
Okonogi-san said as he gave a smile that creased his face in wrinkles.
“But ever since Hana-chan got sick, a bunch of the older guys who only came to see her stopped coming, y’know,” a middle-aged woman, sitting off to the side with an oboe of her own, added with a laugh.
It seemed Hanazono-sensei had once been a part of this group as well.
“Is this a gathering of alumni from the same music college?” Rinko asked.
“No, not at all, it’s just a gathering of amateurs, and we all enjoy playing our instruments even if we’re not very good at it. We even had to ask Hanazono-sensei to help us with strings practice. Did you know she knows how to play every kind of string instrument? I’ve never seen anyone like that before.”
As Okonogi-san answered Rinko, a thin elderly woman carrying a violin case under her arm came over and joined the conversation. She introduced herself as Tabata Michiyo, the concertmistress of the group.
“There certainly are a number of people able to play both the violin and the viola. But fewer also know how to play the cello, and even fewer can also play the bass as well.
“And since we were short there, we always asked Hanazono-sensei to play the bass. It looks quite similar to the cello, so many people mistakenly believe playing either is the same, but the instruments are actually quite different.”
“Hanazono-sensei knew how to play the bass?”
I hadn’t known that.
So she was the bassist — the same as me.
Now that I thought about it, I actually knew very little about her, with most of it being the side she had intentionally shown. I didn’t even know for sure what she studied in music college.
“She said she was a composition major, and she did mention playing around with different instruments.”
“She was well-past the level of ‘just playing around,’ I would think…”
Oh, so it was actually music composition. That made sense; she always did write good arrangements.
I wanted to ask and hear more about Hanazono-sensei, but I couldn’t just waste their precious practice time chatting like this. Then, as though to move the topic along, Tabata-san the concertmistress asked another question.
“Well, in any case, hmm, the one able to play the violin is..?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s me!” Akane answered, raising her hand to show the violin case she had brought with her.
“Oh, thank goodness. Thank you so much for coming; our amateur orchestra is always short people who could play string instruments, after all.”
“Really?” Akane asked, “I kind of expected the violin to be a more common choice.”
“It’s skill hurdle is quite high, is it not? And I believe there are neither clubs nor many opportunities for playing the violin during high school, is that right?”
“Yeah, and our school doesn’t have anything like that either. We only have a brass band.”
“Yep, and there’s always more people able to play a wind instrument. But there’s usually only ever two or three spots per instrument in that section, so what ends up happening is, so many more people apply for it. On the other hand, it’s the opposite for the string section, and they hardly ever have new players apply.”
I expected as much; since violins and cellos didn’t have frets, it would take years of practice just to play at the right pitch. And at that rate, three years of high school would have flown right by before being able to properly play in an ensemble.
“So, since we’ll be starting first, I’ll have you sit here, next to me, and…”
Like that, Tabata-san the concertmistress led Akane away.
“And the timpani player would be..?” Okonogi-san asked. Shizuki stepped forward and gave a slight bow.
“That would be me, although I play more of a jazz-style…”
“Haha, no problem. We also have jazz lovers in our group; they sometimes even play Sing, Sing, Sing together, before everyone’s arrived.”
There was a timpani sitting against the wall, beside an instrument case. Judging by its size, that must be the double bass. Were the bass and the drums purposely close to each other so the players could better coordinate no matter what music they played?
It was then that I thought of something important.
“That reminds me, the conductor of this group is…”
To my surprise, Komori-sensei timidly raised her hand. She was their conductor?
“I, um, have a major in conducting, but only because that department was the least competitive to get into…”
“Komori-sensei’s conducting is quite something — very impressive for someone so young.”
The person in question shrank back in embarrassment after hearing Okonogi-san’s praise. She didn’t seem like a very impressive conductor right now, personally.
“All right, listen up! So we have a couple of new faces joining us, and since not everybody is here, let’s work on our tuning today!”
At Okonogi-san’s announcement, the scattered orchestra members ended their conversations and quickly took their places.
Once they had assembled, the principal oboist solemnly played an A-note, and the group began their tuning. Akane looked rather nervous, surrounded as she was by more elderly men and women, but her bow technique was perfectly fine. Really though, was there anything she couldn’t play? I remember she said something about how when she was younger, her parents pushed her to take lessons for a bunch of different things, but I don’t think something like that was enough for violin skills at this level.
I continued listening to this group of twenty-some people tuning their instruments, and as their sounds came together in sync, a certain feeling began growing within me.
I was a little jealous — I had always wanted to be a part of something like this, having never been a part of a large ensemble. Well, this group would probably not live up to my expectations since the were just a gathering of amateurs, but…
Rinko, beside me, whispered something.
“If only I also knew how to play any orchestral instrument… I feel like I’m just making things harder for everyone.”
One of the cellists sitting close-by overheard her.
“You don’t have to worry about that. In fact, you’re free to visit whenever you like, because having someone who can objectively listen to us practice is always helpful!”
Rinko nodded, before bringing over two folding chairs and setting them up in front of the orchestra. She took a seat in one of them, sitting upright and keeping her knees together. I took the other, still reeling from the atmosphere of the room.
In hindsight, Rinko had probably already realized the truth by then.
After all, unlike me, Rinko had immersed herself in classical music from a very young age. With that solid background, she probably understood without having to hear the group perform.
“So today, we do not have enough on brass, and we are also missing one on flute,” Okonogi-san said.
“They didn’t count as being here to begin with, ’cause they’re already too old to be playing in an orchestra!”
The comment from the lone, remaining flutist set off a round of laughter.
“Let’s start with Jupiter, just the final movement though. As for, ah, Kudou-san and Yurisaka-san — just think of this as a trial run and do your best to play along. If either of you find you don’t like playing with any of these guys, or you can’t play your best because of our terrible playing, or anything else like that, don’t be afraid to speak!”
There was another round of laughter.
But the moment the concertmistress raised her bow, that relaxed atmosphere instantly evaporated.
And a dozen or so bows followed along, rising into the air.
In front of the orchestra, with all of their eyes on her, was Komori-sensei; she stood perfectly straight with her hands up and read. Since this group did not have many members, she would not be using a baton, and yet, I thought I could see a glimmer of light at her fingertips as though she were.
The theme began with a whisper from the first violin, carried along by the second violin’s flowing tremolo. Then, the violas, the cellos, and the bass section began layering their translucent colors over one another, and, taking that as their signal, the wind section rose into position.
Then, Shizuki struck her timpani, and it was like that single strike compressed all the air in the room.
This was Mozart’s last symphony — Symphony No. 41, the Jupiter symphony. It was a sublime orchestration, meticulous and without excess — a true masterpiece. And right now, the Animal Trail Symphony Orchestra was flawlessly navigating through the symphony’s glass maze of intricate counterpoints at breakneck speed.
It was then that I found myself feeling ashamed for looking down on this group, having dismissed them as simply a gathering of amateurs just a moment ago. In reality, they were a splendid ensemble, one well-practiced and experienced what with their performance of this Mozart symphony. I felt a strange tension take hold over my body, like a silver line was threading through my spine; all I could do was sit still with my fists clenched against my knees and my breath held as I continued to listen. Then Komori-sensei’s impromptu baton brought the orchestra around the thrillingly sharp cornering, taking a beautiful, shortcutting trajectory that opened into a multilayered fugue of the finale.
Emphatically, almost regretfully, Komori-sensei pinched her thumb and index finger together, as though cutting loose the echoes of the final chords, to bring their performance to its end.
I was already on my feet and applauding before I knew it; my body had reflexively started to move from the moment the tension of the performance had lifted. Even as I clapped, I felt a pleasant tingle of numbness come off my fingertips.
And when I looked over, I found Rinko doing the same thing beside me.
“Ahaha, thank you, thank you.”
Komori-sensei turned back around to give us an embarrassed smile, having reverted to her usual new-and-inexperienced-teacher look; there was not even a hint of the dignified, graceful expression she wore just moments ago.
“Ahh, it’s been so long since I last conducted; I was so nervous the whole time! And I can’t relax when conducting Mozart or else I’d just become a metronome! And I can’t be doing that, especially not with a certain two kids extra picky about music watching me from behind…”
I had no immediate retort for Komori-sensei’s casual joke.
I turned to look over the troupe to find a pale-faced Akane among the violinists; it seemed while Rinko and I enjoyed a relaxed show as the audience, Akane had fought desperately to cling onto the express train that was the performance.
As for Shizuki, she was facedown against the taut drumhead of her instrument. The timpani was supposed to play the important part of managing the pulse of the entire orchestra and leading them with singular strikes. It seemed, however, that the cellos and double bass had dragged Shizuki along instead.
Still, I did not think either of them had played badly.
Or maybe it was more accurate to say that the rest of the orchestra had played with respect to the girls to spare them embarrassment. Well, that would be even more shocking than having their poor performance exposed.
“I’m sorry… I thought I could take it easy since I was just a fill-in… I’ll make sure to practice more…”
Akane said, in a voice that sounded like it was fading away.
“M-me too… I’ll go to grandfather’s house tomorrow and bring the timpani…”
But the old-timers around them quickly spoke up to reassure them.
“What are you girls so down about? This was just our first time playing together!”
“Your playing was just fine; that was a proper Mozart we played!”
But their consolation only caused Akane to shrivel even further, and she hung her head, looking down at the violin and bow resting on her lap.
“The concert is next month, right? I’ll definitely play better by then… So what other pieces will we be playing, besides Jupiter?”
At that, the eyes of the orchestra members landed on Komori-sensei, Okonogi-san, and then Tabata-san in turn.
“Well, about that…”
Okonogi-san’s voice trailed off for a moment before he began to explain.
“We haven’t decided on the programme yet. And, well… as for Jupiter, it’s just that we can play it well together, so we use it as a way to tune our instruments and match our sounds. We probably won’t play it for actual show…”
“Huh? But isn’t there only a month before the performance?”
I did not know a whole lot about classical concerts, but wasn’t it pretty bad to have not yet decided on what pieces to play when there was only one month left before the actual event?
“That is correct. However, this year, we have had so many members quit that we could simply no longer perform the pieces we were planning to. We’ve been trying desperately to find people to fill in the spots, but it hasn’t been easy…”
And that must have led to asking Shizuki and Akane to take those difficult spots. I did think it was too much responsibility to just hand out.
“I suppose we should have expected as much, seeing as we no longer have ward certification.
“A lot of people did quit after that happened; I’m sure they had other commitments to take care of.”
Other members of the group added thoughts of their own, sounding somber.
“Is that like a grant or something?”
“No, no, it’s nothing that impressive — we are just a community orchestra, after all,” Okonogi-san explained, “Basically, with ward certification, we would be able to use the ward cultural center for free on a regular basis, their amazing studio and hall included. You see, the general public has to first go through a very competitive lottery before being allowed to reserve the space.”
Rinko suddenly spoke up then.
“Is the ward… is there a committee behind it? Say, the Foundation for Cultural Creations of the Future?”
“Yeah, that, that was their name. They’re a public interest group, or something like that.”
For a moment, I wondered why Rinko happened to know that, and a question rose to my throat, lingering unspoken when Okonogi-san continued to speak.
“That we could regularly hold concerts there was our biggest selling point, and unfortunately, we were unable to meet certification last year. Well, I suppose there really was only so much we could do with only one bass player in our group.”
“Is it because… Hanazono-sensei quit..?”
“No, of course not! It was not her fault in any way!”
But I could tell my guess was more or less correct by how Okonogi-san immediately insisted otherwise.
“It is actually completely our fault for not being able to cover for her; in fact, I would even say if not for Hanazono-sensei, we never could have become certified in the first place.”
“But we must hold the February concert, no matter what.”
“Especially since we sold out on pre-sale tickets.”
The pre-sale tickets for an amateur orchestra concert had sold out?
“That’s incredible… But with this many people, you should still be able to play a Mozart or a Haydn, right? So what’s the problem?”
“The concert next month is… rather special. The audience will be on the younger side, and I believe most won’t know much about classical music. See, another reason why I asked Komori-sensei to bring you all here is so we could consult you kids about our programme as well. Could you think of any classical pieces that might appeal to high school students and university students that don’t know much about the genre?”
Saying so, Okonogi-san then showed me a leaflet.
Your Love Will Come True! Valentine’s Day Concert, Presented by the Animal Trail Symphony Orchestra, February 14
td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}There was no programme listed, but there were many hearts all over the page.
*
I asked around at school the next day, and a surprising number of students knew about the Valentine’s Day concert; in fact, I even had acquaintances that already bought tickets.
“You mean the Trails V-Day concert? Yeah, they’re pretty famous. I heard its a couples-only concert though.”
“An upperclassman of mine said she started dating her boyfriend because of it.”
“Oh, what was it… Something like how the timing of your hands clapping corresponds to how compatible you are with your date, I think?”
“Isn’t there a part where you’re supposed to exchange chocolates, too? Like, complete with background music?”
But also, all kinds of questionable details kept coming out, too.
It was only after classes had ended for the day that I learned the actual truth, from Komori-sensei.
“Hanazono-senpai actually did all kinds of things in order to gather more attendees, and one of those things was spreading rumors.”
“Wha– so everything about how attending would improve the chances of your love being requitted was all a lie?!”
Shizuki cried out, pulling despondently on Komori-sensei.
“W-well, I mean, it’s not, um… all untrue? Because I have heard that many couples started dating after attending.”
“…I think it’s pretty likely that a guy and a girl attending a concert together on Valentine’s Day will eventually become a couple.”
Rinko coolly added. That sounded about right, so I guess people could be tricked like that.
“And so at first, Hanazono-senpai would find students or friends and give them a discount for buying tickets for two, or offer to plan their date, or promise that songs to set the mood would be played — that kind of thing. But then rumors about how couples that attended the concert together became more intimate started to spread, and so Hanazono-senpai used that to start spreading all kinds of rumors of her own.”
…That certainly sounded like something she would do.
“And that’s how it became one of the most anticipated concerts in the area. And of course, we will be playing in the main hall of the cultural center. The reservation is from last year, when we still had certiifcation… Which is why we absolutely cannot put on a bad performance.”
“That’s a really huge responsibility, huh? I’m really gonna have to practice even harder now,” Akane said, before turning to look at me, “Oh, but that might mean putting aside band practice… Speaking of, what’re we doing with our next live?”
“I want to have Kaya in our next one, so we’ll probably do something after the start of the new school year.”
“Oh, all right. That means I can put everything I have into the orchestra! Wait, and actually, wouldn’t it be interesting to have a violin in PNO?”
Aside from the fact that our band name was partly inspired by Electric Light Orchestra, I had always dreamed of playing the violin on a stage, so I was a little jealous. I wished I could have played with this group and experienced being part of a real orchestra… It really was unfortunate that there were no instruments I could play for them.
Then from beside me, Rinko, who may or may not have been aware of my inner turmoil, let out a sigh.
“I wish I could help, but… I don’t know how to play anything except the piano, which would mean having the orchestra become the accompaniment to focus on me. I would not want to do that to them.”
“Are there any orchestrated classical pieces that have the piano in it? Pieces where the piano is part of the orchestra and not a solo instrument, I mean.”
Shizuki, who knew the least about classical music among us, asked.
“It’s not that they don’t exist, like Shostakovich,” Rinko answered, looking uninterested, “but there are very few, and I do not like how they incorporate the piano in them; the sound just does not mix very well with the rest of the orchestra.”
“How strange, because in jazz, I always saw the piano as being just part of the rhythm section.”
“The piano is simply the king of the instruments in the world of classical music, after all.”
“Ahaha, that topic again?” Akane asked with a laugh.
“Come to think of it, a lot of people in the piano department kind of were like kings…”
Komori-sensei whispered in a low voice. It seemed our conversation had dredged up memories of her music college days.
“It wasn’t the way they acted or anything, but more like they did not doubt even a little that they were the center of the world, or something like that.”
“Are you sure it’s not just because you didn’t get along with them, Komori-sensei…”
“But it’s true! And it’s the same with the piano! Look, I can prove it with just one simple quiz. First, you all know what a piano sonata is, right?”
Our eyes blinked in mutual confusion as we exchanged looks.
Shizuki carefully gave her an answer.
“A… piece for a solo piano, right? At least, by the old definition.”
“That’s right, and in Italian, sonata literally means ‘something to be played’ — in other words, a piece, so a piano sonata is a piano piece. Now, for the next question: what is a violin sonata?”
Maybe because it would be easier for her to prove her point, Komori-sensei focused her next question on Shizuki.
“Um, a piece for a solo violin?”
“Bzzt! Wrong answer!”
Komori-sensei looked genuinely happy as she crossed her hands to make an X. She was just like a kid, acting even more immature than us at times like this.
“The correct answer is… a violin-and-piano duet! For an actual violin solo, they would specifically mention ahead of time that the violinist is unaccompanied. Now, for the third question: what, then, is a cello sonata?”
“Um… A piece for a cello and, um… on its own?”
“Bzzt! Wrong answer again! But that’s so nice of you, Yurisaka-san, answering incorrectly on purpose so I could be a teacher for once! Anyway, the correct answer is, it’s a cello-and-piano duet! I think you’ve all figured it out by now, so I don’t need to continue with this quiz. Furthermore, flute and clarinet sonatas are also the same, having a piano accompaniment. And there’s also the fact that taking a piano course in music college is mandatory, no matter your major, and then there’s the fact that every school, every music hall has a piano of their own… It’s really no wonder why everyone thinks the piano is the king…”
I nervously interrupted Komori-sensei with a question.
“Uh, Komori-sensei, did something happen between you and the piano department..?”
“Nope, nothing at all! They were all nice people that always took me out to eat with them. There weren’t a whole lot of people in the conducting department, so we always ended up relying on others, and so naturally I got to know all kinds of people. Putting that aside though, pianists kind of just carry themselves about like kings…”
“I know what you mean,” Rinko said, giving a deep nod, “There are always those kinds of people in competitions.”
It sounded believeable when Rinko said so.
“And as embarrassing as it is for me to admit, I am also like that – a queen, that is – which is why I can’t help the orchestra. Oh dear, what ever shall I do.”
But despite her words, Rinko seemed neither embarrassed nor troubled. So what was going on? What was she trying to do, all of a sudden?
“I suppose all I can do is support the orchestra as another listener in the audience. Hmm, but the concert is only for couples… Oh, but wait, conveniently, isn’t Murase-kun, who isn’t involved with the orchestra, quite available?”
“Excuse me, Rinko-san? Why are you speaking as though everything is going as you have planned?”
“Yeah, you gotta to work, too, Rin-chan! And if you’re just gonna listen, you’re gonna have to listen from backstage!”
Shizuki and Akane suddenly, aggressively turned on Rinko, who shrugged off their attacks without a change in her expression.
“Even if you tell me to work, I am just a pianist — just a queen.”
“We can perform a baroque piece then! And you can play the harpsichord!”
“For a small group like this, that’s a great idea! We can all do this together, Rin-chan!”
Despite her newfound role in the orchestra, Rinko seemed dissatisfied. Why was that? Hadn’t she been feeling jealous about wanting to participate too? As for me, with Rinko in charge of a keyboard, I would definitely have no part in this.
“Well, I guess I’ll be listening to the orchestra alone then. I wanted to join in, too, but oh well.”
I looked down at the Valentine’s Day concert pamphlet in my hands again.
“Oh, wait, but I can’t go alone, right? Hmm… Maybe I should invite Kaya. I’m sure she wants a breather from all the studying she’s doing for the entrance exams.”
“What are you saying at a time like this, Makoto-san?! You need to consider the timing of these things!”
“Huh, the timing? The concert’s in the middle of the month, and it’d just be a one time thing… The entrance exams are at the end of February, right? Isn’t that just fine?”
“That is not what I mean!”
“You need to start practicing the double bass starting right now, Makoto-chan!”
“And since there is no stool for the harpsichord, I will have you become my chair, Murase-kun.”
I was suddenly bombarded from every direction. Why was this happening?
*
The following night, I received a phone call from Kaya.
“Um… Murase-senpai, could I… ask you something?”
“Asking? Like, about the entrance exam? Sure, but I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”
“It’s not about the exa– oh, um, well, I guess it is about the exam, in a way…”
She was acting strangely unclear; we were in a video call like usual, but I could see her eyes were wandering around. Seeing as the topic seemed to be something that made it hard for her to make eye contact with me, I wondered if it would have been better to do a voice-only call.
“So I have to submit my application soon.”
“So it’s already time, huh?”
“What I mean is, since the application needs to be signed off by a parent or guardian, I’m going to have to talk to my parents about it.”
“…Oh, right. Of course. So you haven’t talked to them about it yet…”
As the daughter of a celebrity couple, Kaya currently attended the middle school section of a combined school specialized for children in the entertainment industry, but because she planned on attending our high school starting next year, she had to pass the entrance exam. She had been pretty fired up about doing everything on her own, but now that it had come time for her to actually submit her application – one that needed her parents’ approval – the reality of it must have started to set in.
“I thought about signing their names and stamping their seal myself, but I probably shouldn’t.”
“It’d be really bad if they find out that you did, so don’t even think about doing it.”
It wouldn’t matter how hard she had worked nor if she had passed the entrance exam; the school would just rescind her application. Kaya responded, sounding despondent.
“Yeah, I know. Besides, there is paperwork I need from my current school for my application, and the school would definitely inform my parents about it.”
It sounded like Kaya had only just learned about submitting her personal records. As a third-year middle school student, it should have been impossible for her not to know, since her school should have explained how it all worked — but then I realized why: since Kaya attended a school that covered middle through high school, the students must not be expected to take any sort of entrance exam. That would also explain why this third-year middle school student was so unprepared for a high school entrance exam to begin with.
This was… Well, I had not thought much about all of this since it was not my business, but now it was sounding much more troublesome than expected. Even if Kaya did want my help, was there really anything I could do?
“So, umm, I spoke with my mother first, and I brought it up indirectly by saying I wanted to talk about high school…”
“Oh, so you did talk about it then? That’s good then, that you were ready to–“
“…but she just said she already knew what I was going to say, and, um, she seemed a little exasperated… or maybe relieved..?”
“Oh…”
It probably went without saying that a parent was sure to notice there was something going on if their kid did not seem to enjoy school and was studying for an entrance exam despite attending a combined school.
“…S-so that’s good, right? Since that means your parents actually have been keeping an eye on you.”
“That’s a pretty straightforward way of trying make me feel better. For you at least, Murase-senpai.”
Wait, what did she mean by that, ‘for you at least’?
“Anyway, she said we would talk more about it when my father is home — he’s busy right now and won’t be back until the weekend.”
“Right, that would probably be for the best.”
Up to that point, I responded without thinking too much about my answer since it really was not my problem to deal with, but then Kaya’s next words took me by such surprise that I fell out of my chair.
“And then she also said I needed to bring you over, Murase-senpai. So please come and meet my parents.”
“…But why?”
“What do you mean ‘why’? Shouldn’t it be obvious that you have a responsibility to do so?”
I was not following her logic nor did I see how I was responsible for any of it, and as Kaya blushed a faint red, she tried to explain.
“B-but, um, when I say you have to meet my parents, I don’t mean to say it’s because we’re talking about getting engaged or planning a wedding or anything like that.”
“Well, yeah, I know that. There’s no way I’d make that kind of misunderstanding.”
“Why wouldn’t you?!”
“Why are you so mad all of a sudden?”
Kaya took a deliberate breath to calm herself before speaking again in a lower voice.
“…Sorry about that. Anyway, my father and mother want to speak with you at least once.”
“Wait, but… uhh…”
Kaya’s father was called the Prince of Ballad and a famous actor that starred in many taiga dramas, while her mother was formerly a top Takarazuka actress.
…And I was supposed to meet and speak with them? Was I allowed to run away?
“And don’t even think about running away, Murase-senpai, because it will be a very important discussion about the future!”
And with those parting words, Kaya ended the call.
There had been no opportunity for me to bring up the Valentine’s Day concert.
*
That following Saturday, at ten o’clock in the morning, a middle-aged man wearing a sharp, dark suit and white gloves awaited me outside my home, and he ushered me into a car. He was a chaffeur, and this was the first time I had ever experienced having transportation arranged for me like this.
The car brought me over to Shoto in Shibuya, a ridiculously high-end residential district, and stopped halfway up a hilly road, in front of a complicated-looking mansion, one so large that I couldn’t tell how many stories high it was.
“Welcome to our home. And thank you for coming over on such a cold day.”
Greeting me at the front door was – and I hesitate to use the phrase because it was embarrassing to only be able to describe this high-class lady with such a crude description – a drop-dead gorgeous woman. She wore a beige sweater and a long, white skirt — a outfit that, while plain, did not hide any of her beauty. And as ignorant as I was about the entertainment industry, I recognized her face immediately: this was Mayuzumi Ranko.
“I am Shigasaki Ranko, Kaya’s mother. It is nice to finally meet you; thank you so much for having taken care of Kaya.”
She politely introduced myself, while I hastily bowed my head in response.
“I’m Murase Makoto. I, uh, play in the same band as Kaya-san, right.”
It was hard to explain my relationship with Kaya, but Mayuzumi Ranko simply gave a warm smile as she continued speaking.
“Allow me to take your coat for you. Now, food is almost ready — is there anything you cannot eat?”
“N-no, not really…”
The greetings and responses I had desperately simulated in my head during the car ride over would not come to mind; I could not even return a basic ‘please do not trouble yourselves over me.’ Wait, when she said the food is almost ready — did that mean I was going to be eating with them? Were we not just going to have a short discussion, after which I could quickly return home?
“Mama, is he here yet?”
From the hallway behind her came a voice and footsteps, and before long, Kaya appeared. Her hair was elaborately done up, and she wore a blue one-piece dress; when our eyes met, she froze up for a moment before blushing and giving an awkward bow.
“Oh, Murase-senpai. Thank you for, um, coming today.”
With the two of them side-by-side like this, I could see they really were mother-and-daughter — not only were their faces quite similar but the overall atmosphere about them was as well, and I could easily imagine Kaya growing up to be just as beautiful. But at that thought, anxiety rushed through me; were Kaya’s parents going to tell me they would not allow Kaya to be in a rock band because they wanted her to become an actress like her mother? And now that I thought about it, it looked like Mayuzumi Ranko was really sizing me up as she approached me.
But all of a sudden, this famous actress’s serious expression melted away.
“Goodness, you’re absolutely adorable. I’ve always wanted to have a son just like you. Unfortunately, all I have are stepsons — the older one, Kenzou-san, is as old as me, while the younger one, Naoto-san, was already an adult when I married into the family. And since we always address each other with ‘-san,’ I never felt like I was a mother to them.”
“Um…”
If I was remembering right, Mayuzumi Ranko was the third wife, and Kaya had two older brothers and an older sister, from different mothers. That being said, Mayuzumi Ranko being the same age as the eldest Shigasaki son sure was something — it must get awkward for them.
“So Makoto-san, please feel free to call me ‘mom’.”
“M-mama?! Wh-what are you talking about?!”
Kaya’s voice cracked in her confusion. And seriously, why was her mother saying this?
“Oh, or maybe you want to call me ‘mama’ like Kaya-chan? That may be a bit much, seeing as we’ve only met today, you know.”
I already thought it was a bit much for this lady to allow me to call her ‘mom’ in the first place, actually…
In any case, I followed behind Mayuzumi Ranko over to the dining room, to find a middle-aged man already seated and waiting with his arms crossed. He wore traditional Japanese outfit woven of deep-blue tsumugi. His hair looked stiff, with streaks of white in the neat comb-over, and under his thick eyebrows were eyes that stared me over with intensity. I instinctively froze up under his gaze as I entered the room, causing Kaya, who was following closely behind me, to bump into my back.
“If you would excuse me, Makoto-san — have a seat where you like, and make yourself at home.”
And with that, Mayuzumi Ranko, who had led me here, left the room toward what seemed to be the kitchen — not that her words brought me out of my stupor. I heard Kaya call out, “Murase-senpai..?” in a worried voice from behind, but…
The man awaiting us suddenly stood from his seat before taking confident steps over. He came to a stop before me and extended a large hand forward. It took me a number of moments before I realized he was offering a handshake.
I nervously reached over to grasp his hand.
And he returned such a firm grip that for a moment, I thought he was going to break my fingers.
Then, right as it seemed he was about to let go of my proffered right hand, he took hold of my left, pulling it over to closely look over. Could I just go home, like right now?
“So you play, huh?”
This was the first time I heard Shigasaki Kyouhei use a speaking voice — it was softer, stickier compared to his singing voice.
“You play a Washburn, right? Are you a fan of Extreme?”
It took me about ten seconds to realize he was asking about the guitar I used.
“Oh, uh… yeah. I mean, well… my father really likes Nuno, so…”
“Nuno, huh? Nice. I used to love metal, when I was younger.”
Nuno Bettencourt was the brilliant guitarist that dad practically worshipped, and he was so obsessed with Nuno that he had even bought the same guitar. As for me, despite having inherited that guitar, I was not as big of a fan.
“So I’ve listened to most of your songs, and you sure have a few different styles — everything from old-school to new-school. And your band name — you got it from ELO, right? Or no? I wasn’t expecting someone your age to have listened to ELO.”
“Um, yeah, actually, I like ELO and the Beach Boys, so I tend to imitate them. Although back when I was still in middle school, my inspiration came from Autechre and My Bloody Valentine.”
“Hm, actually, I don’t know about them, sorry.”
Having realized I had gotten a little overexcited, I wanted to cringe.
Still, I came here expecting to be scolded or admonished, and since that did not happen, I accidentally let my guard down. Of course, it would be nice if Shigasaki Kyouhei could remain friendly like this.
“So you, um, also listen to rock..?”
I never expected the names of my favorite bands to come out of the mouth of one of the foremost figures of the kayoukyoku world…
“Of course I do. I couldn’t sing Japanese ballads as well as I do if that was all I listened to; that’s how it works, isn’t it?”
He was absolutely right.
“There’s The Beatles, there’s Elvis Presley, there’s Bob Dylan, there’s Stevie Wonder — all of them are my heroes. Even my mentors, the ones that came before me, listen to them.”
Music did connect everything together after all, transcending time and place to do so.
It was then that Mayuzumi Ranko returned to the dining room, followed by two helpers, with food; it appeared to be (probably) authentic Italian food, and so, with the four of us at this huge dining table, a lunch under a strange atmosphere began. The Shigasaki couple sat across from Kaya and I, so it felt as though we were in an interview of some sort — and I could tell Kaya felt just as nervous as I did.
But strangely enough, throughout the meal, neither of Kaya’s parents brought up any topic involving Kaya.
“So have you decided on a talent agency to sign on with? If not, would you consider mine? I believe it would be to your advantage, seeing as I’m the president. The industry is all about connections and money, after all. Speaking of money, I would advise that you be as careful as possible with your money — you see, once, back in my golden years, when I was much younger, I was very badly tricked and much of my income was taken from me. Since then, I have become very careful about keeping a close eye and control on my finances.”
“And despite having gone through two divorces, he has not had to pay alimony for either of them, nor has he had to give up custody. Isn’t that right, Kouhei-san?”
“Ahaha! Well, you know, Ranko-san, if we get divorced, I’ll be sure to pay up everything I need to, rest assured.”
Uh, was that really an appropriate joke for a married couple to be making? And in front of their daughter no less?
“That being said, Makoto-kun, I hate to say it, but you’ve got the kind of face that makes me think you get into a lot of trouble with the ladies.”
At his words, I noticed Kaya, next to me, was now scowling at me. What was she looking at me like that for?
“N-no, I don’t think that’s, uh, I mean, I’ll be just fine, I think.”
“I’m usually right when it comes to women. After all, all the men from whose woman I’ve taken always ended up getting into trouble, you know?” Wasn’t the trouble that you took their women to begin with?
I was not sure if I should comment on his advice, so instead I took a quiet sip of the sparkling water. I snuck a glance at Kaya to see how she was faring, but she seemed to be trying to make herself as small as possible.
So, uh, why was I here again? What had I come here for? My questions began to pile up like the bites of food that were filling my stomach.
Once the meal was over, Shigasaki Kyouhei took two sips from a cup of coffee a helper brought over. Then he spoke with a deliberately heavier voice.
“Right so, let us get to the more serious discussion then.”
His words should have inspired nervousness in me, but by this point, it was half-relieving to hear — it was good to know that everything up until now was just to break the ice.
Kaya, on the other hand, was not so calm. She took a nervous sip of her orange juice before setting it back down and awkwardly sitting up straight.
“Allow me to start by first apologizing.”
Shigasaki Kyouhei nodded at his daughter before continuing.
“I went too far by having Kaya forcibly introduced to your band, Makoto-kun, and that hurt Kaya’s pride in turn. For that, I am truly sorry.”
He gave a deep bow of his head, causing Kaya to react by trying to shrink even smaller, practically sliding under the table as she did so.
“N-no no, you don’t have to…”
Shigasaki Kyouhei gave a proper, formal apology — something I had not been expecting to hear. That act completely upended my impression of the man.
“I do not like appearing so shamefully to anyone outside of my family, but I believe it is much more important that I apologize to you, Makoto-kun, which was why I had you brought over today. So again, please allow me to apologize for having taken advantage of you and your band.”
“Oh, no, there’s nothing you need to apologize for. It was no trouble at all for me.”
Faced with this sudden series of unexpected events, my true thoughts on the matter spilled right out, not that it bothered me. This was, after all, an issue between Kaya and her father, and besides, in the end, nothing but good things happened to me as a result of it all anyway.
“Now, let’s hear what you want to say, Kaya,” Shigasaki Kyouhei continued, turning to his daughter, “I’m sure it should be easier for you with Makoto-kun here. So what is it that you have not told us?”
Kaya stiffened up, and her eyes swam about in a panic, settling on her mother, as though to beg for help, before finally returning to face her father.
“…I’m sorry, that I lied about being in a relationship with Murase-senpai.”
“That’s not what you wanted to talk about, right? Wait, actually, why did you even make up a lie about that?” I retorted by reflex.
“We already knew that was a lie.”
“And if it hadn’t been a lie, Makoto-kun would not have entered this house completely intact.”
Both of her parents added jabs of their own, causing Kaya’s face to flush a bright red. What had she been trying to do?
“Well… Um…”
Seeing how much Kaya struggled to put her words together, I whispered over in a low voice.
“…Do you need me to tell them?”
Kaya vigorously shook her head in answer. Then, she suddenly straightened up, sitting perfectly upright, before answering in a loud – practically shouting – voice.
“I’ve had enough of my current school! And I want to attend the same high school as Murase-senpai!”
I gave her a pat on the back from an angle her parents would not be able to see. That was well-said after all.
There was no immediate response; it looked like Kaya’s parents were talking with one another through their eyes, and after a long moment, they nodded to one another.
Mayuzumi Ranko suddenly stood up from her seat.
“Let’s go over to your room for a little while, shall we, Kaya-chan?”
“…Huh?”
“You have all the paperwork for your application in your room, right? Oh, and besides that, don’t you want to show Makoto-san some of your old photos?”
And just like that, a completely confused Kaya was whisked away by her mother, leaving me behind and alone in the dining room with Shigasaki Kyouhei.
Wait… oh no no no… Why was I all alone now?!
No matter how friendly Shigasaki Kyouhei had been earlier, it meant nothing against the now-awkward mood between us.
“Let’s have a talk, shall we? Just between us men.”
…When he put it that way, I had a bad feeling about what was to come.
“You see, Kaya, she’s… very important to me. And I cherish her, not just as my daughter but also her potential and talent.”
I could see how much he meant what he said by the look in his eyes, and so I quietly nodded.
“Which is why I’ve had her attend this school, one connected to the entertainment industry. My three older children all attended and graduated that same school, and as a result, they learned how the industry works; I want Kaya to be the same way as well. Moreover, I wholly believe Kaya has the talent to be the second coming of Chiaki Naomi. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Uh, actually… I don’t know who that is. Sorry.”
I later looked her up and learned Chiaki Naomi was not only a renowned actress but an amazing singer on the same level as Misora Hibari, and after listening to her music and hearing her singing voice, I was ashamed that I had not known of her sooner. But that is a story for another time.
“But, well, rather than being the second coming of another person, I think it’s more amazing for her to be the first coming of Shigasaki Kaya.”
“Ahaha. So that’s what you have to say?”
“And it made me really happy when she told me she wanted to play music together… And, excuse me for presuming so, but she never seemed interesting in acting or modeling, or anything like that — she’s only interested in music, so she doesn’t have to go to some kind of specialized school, right? And if the school she ends up going to also happens to be the same as my own, that means we’d get to spend more time together… It might be a little selfish of me to say, but I’d be really happy if that were to happen. In any case, I just think Kaya-san should be able to decide what she wants.”
“Hm, I see. Thank you for being so honest with me.”
At that, Shigasaki Kyouhei stopped to take a sip of his coffee.
“Hmm, Makoto-kun, you probably don’t know how a combined school works, do you?”
“…No, I don’t know anything about them.”
“So a combined school expects all of their middle school students to continue onto their high school section, and so there is no need to spend time preparing for an entrance exam. Because of this, the curriculum ends up different compared to a normal school — for example, the material Kaya is currently learning covers topics that usually appear at the high school level.
“Oh… Yeah, I can see why.”
“So therein lies a problem: none of the teachers are thinking about entrance exams, nor are they able to support any students who are. In fact, I have heard that in some combined schools, the teachers are even biased against any students that they know are planning to take an entrance exam to attend a different school, and actively harass those students, making their lives miserable. I want to believe that the teachers at Kaya’s school aren’t like that, of course.”
So, uh, why was he telling me this terrifying story?
“Now, another problem: the academic level at your school is quite high, right?”
“I-is it? I think it’s about average.”
“Funny you say that, because students from high-ranked, not quite top-class, schools always claim they’re about average.”
I had thought this man was pretty sharp, but that perceptive persistence of his was starting to get eerie — it was quite scary, to be honest.
“I’ve been told the girls in your band have been helping Kaya study, but I imagine she’s been having a rough time. Just so you know, most combined schools will bar any students from continuing onto the high school section if they take an entrance exam to another school — I believe Kaya’s school follows this rule as well. I’m sure it’s only because they want to deter students from leaving, but of course, this does mean that if Kaya fails this entrance exam, she will not be able to attend high school.”
“Ugh…”
“Well, if it does come to that, I can talk it over with some people, make a little donation to smooth it all over, that kind of thing. And of course, it would be for the best for Kaya to simply pass her entrance exam. But now you understand some of the problems, right? It’s best to be careful when it comes to these kinds of things.”
“I knew there would be problems to have to deal with, but still…”
The saliva I swallowed back burned a trail down my dry throat.
“Since this is Kaya…-san’s problem to begin with, even if you tell me all of this… I don’t think there’s anything I can actually do about it.”
“Hm? Oh, no, no! That’s not it!”
Shigasaki Kyouhei’s shoulders shook as he laughed.
“Any problem Kaya has is, of course, a problem I can take care of, one way or another. What I’m saying is, in the future, when you have children of your own, that’s when you, as a parent, will have to be more careful.”
“Uh… Why were we talking about this, again?”
“Why, because any child of yours would be like my grandchild, right?”
“I don’t think that’s how that works?”
Afterward, Mayuzumi Ranko returned with Kaya, bringing along old photo albums as the helpers served dessert. Kaya back then looked like an angel, and it seemed she had turned Shigasaki Kyouhei into a comedically overdoting father — Kaya now, however, sat beside me, awash with embarrassment.
Eventually, it was time for me to leave, and so Shigasaki Kyouhei called over the driver to bring me home.
As we waited for the car to arrive, he suddenly asked a question of me.
“We sure had a lot to talk about today, didn’t we, Makoto-kun? But is there anything you would like to ask me? I’m sure you must have been very confused this morning, being brought here all of a sudden.”
“Oh… Um, no, but, well… Let’s see…”
What should I ask him? There were a lot of things I wanted to ask, so what did I want to know?
“Oh.”
One question came to mind.
“You’ve performed with a full orchestra ensemble before, right, Kyouhei-san?”
Shigasaki Kyouhei blinked in confusion.
“…A number of times, yes.”
“So let’s say, um, the drums aren’t there and the bass isn’t going on the attack, right? As the singer, you can’t see the conductor’s baton because your position is further out ahead of them, so how do you match your singing to the rest of the ensemble?”
For a moment, Shigasaki Kyouhei made a strange face before bursting into laughter.
“You’re telling me, after everything we’ve talked about and being told you can ask me anything, that’s what you want to know?”
I awkwardly scratched my head; what did he want me to ask then? This was the thing I most wanted an answer to at the moment.
“…This is why you’re a music-obsessed idiot,” Kaya muttered from beside me. Well, sorry for wanting to know…
“Well now, this sure is more than what I was expecting,” Shigasaki Kyouhei continued as he began rubbing his cheek, “And I’ll admit, it’s a tough job, but I have to ask, are you planning on doing something like that?”
“Oh, no, it’s not about me. So recently, I got to know some people in an orchestra, and since they’ve been letting me watch their rehearsals, I started thinking about how nice it’d be if I had a way to join in.”
“Nice. Very ambitious,” Shigasaki Kyouhei said, smiling, “So here’s the thing: performing live with an orchestra is, well, it’s one of those things you only understand after having done it at least once. You’ll want to look back at the conductor for certain parts, of course, but otherwise, let’s see… If I were to describe it…”
He spread his arms out completely, letting them hang in the air as he took the time to consider his next words. Eventually, be brought his arms back in and together.
“It’s like letting your body be absorbed right into it. It’s not so much matching with the orchestra so much as it is fitting into it.”
For some reason, Kaya had joined me on the car that was taking me home.
“Since I made you come all the way here, I have to bring you home, too.”
Bring me home,’ she said, when it was the driver doing the work. And wasn’t she actually making the driver work more since he would have to bring her home afterward? Not that I would say that part out loud, of course. Either way, I had not yet gotten a chance to talk to Kaya alone today, so I was actually thankful that she had come along.
“Thank you so much for today, Murase-senpai. I took so much of your time, and… Well, I didn’t think we would spend so much time talking.”
“It’s not a big deal, and I had fun. I got to hear a lot of interesting stories, too.”
“Th-that was so embarrassing for me… Um, please don’t tell the others that I fell in a hole while digging for sweet potatoes or that I cried a lot because of fireworks or…”
“I wasn’t going to! Besides, that wasn’t what I was talking about.”
Well, it wasn’t like I didn’t also enjoy hearing all the cute stories about Kaya when she was younger…
“I meant your father and all of his experiences as a singer — those kinds of stories. Because, you know, before we had met, I was scared he had called me over because he was mad at me.”
Kaya turned to look down at her knees before nodding.
“Oh… Yeah, now I kind of wish I had told them everything sooner… It sure is important to say the things you have to say, isn’t it?”
“…Yeah.”
Kaya began to fidget, wringing her hands and rubbing her knees. She opened her mouth several times, looking like she was going to say something, only to hesitate and swallow back her words. Eventually, it seemed she had made up her mind because she suddenly looked me in the eye.
“Um, Murase-senpai! S-so, you know, the deadline for submitting my application is coming soon!”
“Hm?”
“The deadline’s in February! February 14th!”
“Oh, is it?” Wasn’t that also the day of the concert?
“So, um, I have to go to your high school to submit my application! And, um, if you happen to be free that day, could we, um, hang out? Since I’ve been working so hard studying for the exam, I mean! Because I think I should take a day off to relax!”
Why was she yelling? And out of all the days she could pick, she chose the 14th?
“On the 14th? I mean, I’m going to be a little busy in the evening…”
But as I spoke, Kaya’s face began to crumple like she wanted to cry, and then I realized this was actually quite a convenient coincidence.
I told her about the Valentine’s Day concert.
“…So I don’t know if you’re actually interested in classical music or not, but would you like to–“
“Yes, I want to go! I absolutely want to go!”
Kaya’s cheeks flushed an excited pink as she answered before I could finish.
I was relieved that she was so quick to agree, only to remember how the girls had suddenly become so aggressive when I had brought up inviting Kaya to the concert; they really hadn’t held back on their browbeating… Then again, it did make sense why they reacted that way — it would be thoughtless of me to invite Kaya out when she was so busy preparing for the exam. Still, if the person in question also wanted to take a break, there was no issue with me inviting her out then… right?”
1: “Ousama” (王様) literally meaning “king.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C5%8Csama
Headcanon TL 
Leave a comment