-- Pablo Casals; Spanish cellist and conductor; 1876-1973

"Violin playing is a physical art with great traditions behind it."

-- Vanessa Mae; Singaporean violinist; b. 1978

Il Violoncello (The Violoncello)

Ohtori Choutarou sighed as he sat down on the bench beside his best friend, Shishido Ryou. The two of them had just finished another day of training, and while it had gone over quite well, Ohtori's mind had been on other things entirely.

    "Oi, Choutarou, what's the matter with you?" Shishido asked, and while his manner was gruff, Ohtori had long ago come to understand that Shishido really did mean well.

He smiled slightly as he looked over at his senpai. "Ah, I'm all right, Shishido-senpai."

Shishido raised an eyebrow at him – something that reminded Ohtori very much of Atobe Keigo, Hyoutei Tennis Team's buchou. "Hontou? You seemed a bit listless out there."

    "Really, I'm okay," Ohtori replied, but when Shishido gave him a look that said he didn't believe a word of what his kohai was saying, Ohtori sighed, and said: "I'm just a bit nervous because the Winter Ball is coming up."

The Winter Ball was a really grand party held annually by Hyoutei. On the night of the twenty-fourth of December – the night before the start of winter break – the students of Hyoutei Gakuen were expected to gather at a specified place where a formal party was to be held: one that had been dubbed the Winter Ball. For the Hyoutei Junior High School Orchestra, the event was a really big thing, because they were expected to open it with a mini-concert of sorts, playing one piece that often featured a solo performance by one lucky member of the Orchestra. After that, a hired orchestra took over for them so that the Orchestra members could join in the festivities.

    "The Winter- Oh!" Shishido grinned, and nudged Ohtori with his elbow. "Come on Choutarou! You did really well during your first year, and now you're First Violin! What are you so worried about?"

During his first year, Ohtori had been given the supreme honor of playing the violin solo of "Winter" from Vivaldi's Four Seasons. It was a privilege that was only granted to the Orchestra member who proved to have the greatest amount of potential and development over the past year, and Ohtori had been incredibly lucky because he was only a freshman, and already he had managed to earn the right to play the Winter Ball solo. The following year, he was given the position of First Violin.

Ohtori bowed his head, hoping that the gesture would hide the blush that was appearing on his cheeks. "It's not me I'm worried about, really…"

Shishido blinked. "Eh? What are you talking about?"

Ohtori did not respond. There might have been a lot of things he might have been open to talking about with Shishido, but this – or rather, she – was not something he wanted to tell his senpai right now, in earshot of the others.

    "I think it's very obvious whom he's thinking about."

Ohtori looked up upon hearing the cool, smooth voice and saw Oshitari Yuushi standing a few feet away.

Shishido looked at the bespectacled tensai of Hyoutei. "Who?"

Oshitari sauntered towards them, a smirk firmly planted on his face. "It's that cellist, isn't it? ?"

Ohtori laughed, embarrassed. "I wish you wouldn't mention it out loud, Oshitari-senpai…"

It was not that Ohtori was embarrassed to be associated with , a second-year student who played Second Chair Cello in the Orchestra – farthest thing from it, really. It was just that the last thing he needed at the moment was for all of the Regulars to know about his crush – a crush that he had kept secret for the better part of that year.

    "And why not?" Oshitari shrugged. "I don't see why you wouldn't want to be associated with her. She's beautiful, intelligent, and an excellent cellist." He smirked wolfishly. "On top of that, her legs are exquisite. I really do not understand why you haven't done anything to express your interest in her. If I were in your position, I would have done something already."

    "O-Oshitari-senpai!" Ohtori protested, jumping to his feet as he did so, and annoyed at the fact that he had no blush control whatsoever. "-san is a very talented musician, and a very kind girl."

His voice started petering out as he continued: "She's a…a good friend…to me."

Shishido grinned. "Friend? Only?" He winked. "You can do better than that!"

    "Oh no… Shishido-senpai, not you too…"

    "What's this ruckus about?"

Ohtori winced. Of all the people who had to come around then, it just had to be Atobe Keigo.

It was Oshitari who answered Atobe's question. "Apparently, Ohtori has taken a liking to ."

Atobe turned to look at Ohtori, and there was no denying the interested gleam in his eye. "Hontou? The girl who plays Second Chair Cello in the Orchestra?" He tilted his head, and smirked. "So Ohtori Choutarou has succumbed to the barbs of Eros, a~n?"

    "Ah, I really wouldn't put it that way," Ohtori replied, waving his hands around in front of him to make his point. "I think it's closer to a…really, really close friendship."

    "He's lying," Mukahi Gakuto said then, grinning from ear-to-ear as he stood beside Oshitari. "Don't you think so, Yuushi?"

Oshitari smirked in agreement.

Shishido snorted, and though his words were rather acerbic, the smirk on his face showed that they were meant in a joking manner. "And here I thought you trusted me, Choutarou. Gekidasa…"

    "S-senpai, please…!"

Atobe gave him a look that was a cross between amusement and interest. "Naze, Ohtori? Are you afraid of getting rejected?"

    "Iie…"

    "Then what are you waiting for, a~n?"

Ohtori sighed, and hung his head in defeat. There really was no getting around his senpai once they had gotten started. In the end, it was best to simply keep quiet, and just ride the whole thing out. They were bound to lose interest after a while, after all.

    "Did you hear the rumor?"

    "Nani? What rumor?"

looked up just as Izumi Aya and Aoma Kazue – Third and Fourth Cello, respectively – took their seats nearby, talking intently to one another. Wishing to know what it was all about, she asked: "Ne, Izumi-kun, Aoma-kun, what are you two talking about?"

The two boys glanced at her, and then at each other, before they leaned closer, their voices hushed. "We'll tell you, -chan, but only if you promise to keep quiet about it and not to pass it on."

blinked, but nodded nevertheless. "All right, I promise."

Izumi grinned, and then leaned in even closer. "Well, Aoma-kun and I heard a rumor about something for the Winter Ball. It looks like this time around, they aren't going to go with a solo piece."

blinked. "Nani? Why do you say that?"

Aoma shifted slightly, and lowered his voice even more, forcing to move even closer so that she could hear him. "Apparently, Sakaki-sensei went to the Nippon Music Foundation last weekend, and asked if he could borrow the Paganini Quartet for one night."

's jaw dropped. "The Paganini Quartet?!"

Every string musician worth his or her salt knew of the Paganini Quartet. Consisting of a pair of violins, a viola, and a cello – the four instruments that made up a classic string quartet – they were instruments once owned by the Italian violinist Paganini, and made by Antonio Stradivari: the man who was said to have created some of the most beautiful stringed instruments in existence.

    "Hai," Izumi replied, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Aoma and I think that, because he asked for the Paganini Quartet, he's going to make a string quartet concerto the piece for the opening of the Winter Ball."

leaned back, stunned by what she had heard. The Paganini Quartet… Who would ever have imagined that Sakaki-sensei would give them the chance to play such valuable and beautiful instruments?

She sensed someone moving beside her then, and frowned. She glanced at the girl sitting beside her, in the position of First Chair Cello. Amagakari Kusanagi was a second-year student, and was a skilled cellist: the chief reason why she sat in First Chair. However, it was also generally agreed upon by the people in the Orchestra that she was obnoxious and overbearing.

Of course, Atobe was like that as well, to a certain extent, but at least he was quite nice when he wanted to be, and was often willing to help people out when he thought they deserved it. Kusanagi was just plain stuck-up and too sure of herself.

Aoma and Izumi fell silent then, glaring at Kusanagi as she smirked, and flipped her hair at them – or rather, at .

Kusanagi glanced at , and smirked. "Ah, still here?" She glanced at 's cello, and sniffed derisively. "And still playing that old, worn-down thing, I see."

There was one other thing that the Orchestra knew about Amagakari Kusanagi: she enjoyed making 's life miserable.

frowned, but said nothing. She was more or less used to Kusanagi and her deprecating remarks by now, having been on the receiving end of them since she was a freshman.

Still, being used to hearing them did not take away any of the sting that accompanied them.

Just then, a voice – deeper, more masculine – spoke up: "Konnichiwa, -san."

looked up…and up…and up, at the face of Ohtori Choutarou, First Violin for the Orchestra, a tennis team Regular, and one of the nicest people she knew. She returned his smile with one of her own. "Ah, konnichiwa, Ohtori-san."

Kusanagi straightened up, and tilted her head. "Aren't you going to greet me, Ohtori-sama?" she purred.

Ohtori blinked, and laughed, embarrassed, as he took a few cautious steps back and away from Kusanagi's grasping fingers. "Ah…konnichiwa, Amagakari-san."

Kusanagi pouted. "Why are you still so formal with me, Ohtori-sama?"

Ohtori only laughed a bit helplessly in response, before turning to , smiling apologetically before indicating that he had to take his seat.

smiled, and gestured with her hand, telling him that he could go on ahead. When he wasn't looking at her, she blushed, and hid it from the others by pretending that she was checking the strings on her bow.

One thing that the Orchestra didn't know: was infatuated with Ohtori Choutarou.

Sakaki-sensei walked in at that moment, and everyone in the Orchestra sat up in attention. watched as the director of the Orchestra strode purposefully to the podium where the conductor usually stood, and paused for a moment, his eyes skimming over all of them, as if he was checking for something or someone.

At length, he said: "As many of you know, the Winter Ball is going to be held in a few weeks' time. You are all going to have to practice hard for that event, since it could very well determine what position you hold in this Orchestra the coming year.

    "Now then, this year we shall not be performing a solo piece."

A flurry of murmurs and whispers flew through the crowd, and Izumi and Aoma nudged each other and , giving her smiles that said: "We told you so."

Sakaki-sensei gave the entire Orchestra a look that caused everyone to quiet down again, before he continued: "The piece that shall be performed is the Andante cantabile movement of Tchaikovsky's String Quartet Number One in D Major."

A furor of whispers rose up amongst the members of the Orchestra's string section, and could not help but shiver in anticipation. The Andante cantabile movement of that particular string quartet was a recognizable piece of music, but one that had maintained its beauty in spite of its popularity.

She closed her eyes, and she imagined what it would be like: the Paganini Ladenburg – the name of the cello in the Paganini Quartet – standing between her legs, the wood vibrating as she plied the strings with the bow, while two violins and a viola played music made even more divine by the instruments that were being used to make the music.

And Ohtori Choutaro would be smiling at her from where he sat, his fine, elegant fingers making his violin sing…

    "Silence!"

Everyone shut up, and forced herself out of her reverie. She felt a blush creep over her face, and she shook her head. How could she have been so silly as to think of Ohtori at that moment?

In the meantime, Sakaki-sensei continued: "As some of you may have heard, I have asked the Nippon Music Foundation to lend out, for one night, the famous Paganini Quartet."

The silence that followed was not out of fear of Sakaki-sensei's wrath, but was borne of stunned surprise.

    "As a special treat to those who are chosen to play the selected piece on the night of the Winter Ball, they will have the supreme privilege of being able to use the Paganini Quartet on that night."

Sakaki-sensei looked at those all around, and nodded in satisfaction. "The members of the strings section will undergo a screening process, the procedure of which you will find out on the day of the screening itself. Those who pass this screening satisfactorily will play on the Winter Ball.

Sakaki-sensei looked around one more time, before he nodded. "That is all for today. You are dismissed." With that, he strode out of the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

The moment the door closed, an explosion of noise burst out from everyone in the Orchestra – and, in particular, from those in the strings section. Everyone started talking all at once, discussing the possibilities, wondering which four lucky members would have the chance to play on the Paganini Quartet.

Kusanagi smirked, and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Ne, -chan," she said, 's name coming out as a sneer, "maybe you should just go home and give up. You would never have the chance to play on such valuable and beautiful instruments."

    "Leave her alone, Amagakari-san," Izumi muttered. "She's just as good as you, and you know it."

Aoma snorted. "Maybe even better."

Kusanagi sniffed, and rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that did not quite catch, but that she knew to be quite rude and cruel.

    "Ne, -chan, aren't you going yet?"

snapped back to attention, and caught Izumi looking down at her with a smile. She smiled back, and shook her head. "Iie, I think I'll stay for a while longer."

    "Okay."

Silence fell gradually over the room as the students made their way out, all of them glad to be dismissed so early. It was that silence that wanted: the sort of silence where she could practice, unheard and uninterrupted, when she could play the music she wanted, and without having to play a secondary role to someone like Amagakari Kusanagi.

She laid the bow against the strings of her cello, and started to play a piece that she knew by heart: Pachelbel's Canon in D. While it was not necessarily just for a cello, she loved hearing it on her instrument, because the soothing melody went well with the rich, deep sounds of the cello.

She closed her eyes, drowning in the sound of the music. This was her solace, and her refuge. During moments like these, she could forget about everything; all that mattered was the music, and her self.

He listened to her play, listened to the way the music echoed around in the empty room, making the sound of her cello rounder, richer, and fuller than it normally would have if the room had been full of people. She looked so small, and so terribly, utterly alone.

Ohtori uttered a sigh, making sure that it was not so loud as to be heard by the one he was watching. Maybe his senpai were right: maybe he felt more for than just friendship. It would certainly explain why he felt jealous whenever she talked to Izumi Aya and Aoma Kazue, who were two of her good friends in the Orchestra. It would certainly explain why he felt nothing by loathing and disgust for Amagakari Kusagani, who did nothing but make 's life difficult.

He looked up at her, watching as her shoulders shifted slightly while she played. He feared changing their relationship, feared that he would ruin the friendship that they had cultivated since they were freshmen.

The last thing he wanted to lose was her regard for him as a friend. He could be content, loving her like this, from the sidelines and shadows, as long as they remained friends.

But how long could he stand just watching her?

He remembered Shishido's advice from last time: "Just go and tell her how you feel! If you're just going to stand there and watch her, then you're the biggest coward I've ever known."

He inhaled, and steeled himself. His senpai was right: if he didn't do anything about it, then he was just a coward. There was always the chance that she did not return his feelings, but if he got rejected, well then, at least she knew that he cared for her, and really, that was more than he could ask for.

He stepped into the room, allowing his feet to make some form of noise in order to announce his presence. She stopped playing, and looked over her shoulder at him, but he smiled, and waved for her to continue. She smiled back, nodded, and went back to playing.

He approached slowly, cautiously, not wanting to intrude on her while she played. Pachelbel's Canon in D was a cheerful enough tune, but on her cello the melody sounded achingly poignant and bittersweet.

    "It sounds almost sad," he murmured as he sat down on the chair that Amagakari usually occupied.

smiled as she drew out the last note, before she lowered her bow, and turned to him. "I know, but it still sounds very beautiful."

    "Hai," Ohtori murmured in agreement. He smiled at her then. "They say that when a musician plays, the tune reflects how he or she is feeling at the moment. Listening to you play, it makes me wonder why you are so sad."

's smile was not as full as Ohtori had hoped it would be, but the light hint of pink on her cheeks told him that he had not overstepped his bounds just yet. "Does it sound sad?" She sighed, and closed her eyes. "Maybe I do feel a little sad."

    "Naze?" Ohtori asked softly. "Is it because of Amagakari-san?"

    "Iie," replied. "It's just…" She trailed off, falling silent again.

Ohtori smiled, hoping that that would encourage her to continue.

She sighed, resting the bow across her lap as she leaned back against her chair. "I was just thinking about what Sakaki-sensei said about the Winter Ball."

    "What about it?"

    "I was thinking…how I'd probably never get the chance to play the Paganini Ladenburg."

Ohtori blinked, not because he did not know what the Paganini Ladenburg was, but because said that she would never get the chance to play it. "Demo, we're all going to go for the screening anyway. Why do you say that?"

When she didn't respond, Ohtori smiled, and – though a bit hesitantly at first – reached over, placing his hand over 's. When she looked up at him, he suddenly felt that what he had done was a bit too personal, but he did what he felt was right, and held on.

    "-san," he murmured, feeling his cheeks flare up at the feel of her small hand beneath his own, "I'm sure that you're going to do very well. I've listened to you sometimes, when you're alone-"

looked up at him, eyes wide. "You were listening?"

Ohtori suddenly felt the blood drain from his cheeks. "S-sometimes, but really, I don't mean to eavesdrop, it's just that your music is so beautiful, and I can't really help but stop and listen."

Much to his relief, she laughed softly, her cheeks turning pink. "Arigatou, Ohtori-san. It's really sweet of you to say so about my music."

    "But it's the truth," Ohtori insisted.

She laughed again, and the pink on her cheeks deepened.

He smiled at her, and squeezed her hand. "Don't put yourself down so quickly, -san. You never know, you just might get to play the Paganini Ladenburg come the night of the Winter Ball."

    "Hai, you're right." A smile spread on her face, and she looked a lot more cheerful now. "Arigatou, Ohtori-san. I promise you, I won't give up so quickly anymore."

He grinned: her smile made him feel giddy, almost, as if he had just played Tartini's Devil's Trill successfully on his violin, or had just played a really hard game of tennis and had won the match.

    "Good," he said cheerfully, standing up as he did so, although he allowed his hand to linger on hers for a while longer before he let go. "I really look forward to hearing you  play, -san."

    "Same here."

He nodded, and started stepping backwards, heading for the door. "Anou… -san, I really have to go now; Atobe-buchou is probably looking for me already."

    "Hai, I understand. Don't let me keep you."

He nodded, and turned around, ready to leave, but then, said: "Ohtori-san?"

Ohtori paused at the doorway, looking over his shoulder at her. "Hai?"

It was as if all the happiness in the world was condensed in her smile. "You can call me -chan." She blushed, and lowered her gaze. "O-of course, only if you want to."

He grinned broadly, and tried to ignore the blush that he knew had just flooded his face. "Hai. Call me Ohtori-kun, then."

    "Hai, Ohtori-kun."

The day for the screenings came far sooner than had thought it would come. Prior to that, she had prepared herself as best as she could by practicing whenever she had the opportunity. Some would say that she was practicing mercilessly, always starting the piece again whenever she made a mistake. She would accept nothing but the best that she could give.

She didn't want to prove Ohtori wrong.

The system for the screenings was thus: the members of the strings section were divided according to the instrument that they played, and each group drew slips of paper with numbers written on them from a box, said number indicating the order of who would go in for the screening. After that had been accomplished, Sakaki-sensei drew the names of instruments from another box, thus deciding the order of which group would go first.

As luck would have it, the cello players were going last, and was also going to be the last to play.

She sighed as the hours ticked by, watching as people went in and out of the small room where the screenings went on behind closed and soundproofed doors. She did not know what was going on in that room; all she knew was that Sakaki-sensei was there, and that at that moment, he was already deciding who would get to play on the Winter Ball.

The violin group was the second-to-the-last, and Ohtori had just emerged from the room, looking a bit tired, but overall, he seemed quite happy with himself.

smiled as he approached her. "How did you do?"

    "I think I did well enough," Ohtori replied cheerfully as he sat down beside her. "I did my best, and that's all that really matters."

    "What were you asked to play?"

    "Ah, a portion of the Andante cantabile." He leaned back, and stretched his arms over his head. "I think Sakaki-sensei is making everyone play the same piece, and then he is going to judge who can make it sound the best on their instrument. Those who do, get to play on the Winter Ball."

nodded. "Ah, so desu." She blinked thoughtfully. "Won't Sakaki-sensei get tired of listening to the same piece over and over again? And how can he tell the difference?"

Ohtori grinned, and winked at . "Why? Are you worried about it because you are going last?"

blushed at being found out, but she nodded anyway. "Hai…"

    "That's not something you should be worried about," Ohtori replied confidently. "Sakaki-sensei will always pick out the best ones, no matter how late in the day or how many times he's heard the same piece being played. All we can really do is to do our best, and hope that he thinks what we did is the best."

nodded again, comforted by Ohtori's words. He was right: in the end, there really wasn't much she could do except her best, and hope that Sakaki-sensei thought the same way too.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ohtori shift towards her, and when she turned to look, she saw him smiling at her in a way that made her heart flutter. "Ne, -chan, I could stay here and wait for you to finish, if you'd like."

blinked at him, surprised by his offer. "Demo, don't you have tennis practice?"

    "Iie, practice was cancelled today. Atobe-buchou let us have the day off." His smile widened just so. "I could walk you home afterwards, too."

knew that she was blushing to the roots of her hair. Ohtori wanted to wait for her to finish and walk her home? She had often daydreamed that the latter situation would happen to her, but she had not expected that it would really happen. "Um…well… I guess…you could, if you really wanted to…"

Ohtori's smile turned into a full-blown grin, and he nodded. "Hai, I would like to."

The whole situation began to feel a little bit surreal, as gradually, the number of people in the room dropped in number, and it got more and more quiet as they left the room.

Their expressions, too, were varied: some looked quite pleased with themselves, while others seemed very much dissatisfied with whatever it was that they had done. A few even seemed on the verge of crying when they left the room.

It made wonder: what exactly was going on in the room beyond? What were they being made to do? Were they not being asked to simply play the exact same piece that was going to be performed on the night of the Winter Ball?

She wanted to ask Ohtori about it, but she supposed that if he were allowed to tell her what to expect, then he would have already told her all about it. His silence indicated that all those who went in were forbidden to tell those who had not yet attempted the screening about what had happened to them or what exactly it was they had done.

Finally, it was just herself, Kusanagi, and Ohtori left in the room. Kusanagi sat apart from them, but she eyed them with a look that was a cross between irritation and amusement.

    "Good luck with your attempt, -chan," Kusanagi said as the third-to-the-last cellist left the screening room, and Kusanagi stood up to go in. "I think that you will really need it."

gripped the edge of her seat more tightly as Kusanagi slipped into the screening room, ignoring that last parting shot. Rage and frustration roiled within her mind and heart, and she swallowed against a rapidly growing lump in her throat that threatened to spill from her eyes as hot, angry tears.

    "-chan?"

She angled her head slightly in Ohtori's direction, but kept her head lowered. She knew that there were tears in her eyes already, and she did not want him to see them. She might have trusted him, true, but she did not want him to see her crying – not when he had told her that she should be confident and trust in herself.

She really, truly, did not want to prove him wrong, or let him down in any way.

At length, the door to the screening room opened, and the both of them looked up to watch as Kusanagi stepped out of the screening room. was most surprised to see Kusanagi's face contorted in a tight scowl of frustration, her fingers twitching as is they still remembered the movements that they had gone through a few moments ago.

Kusanagi glanced at , and her scowl deepened. She did not say a word, however, as she picked up her things, and stomped out of the room.

and Ohtori looked at each other, puzzlement reflected in both their eyes. Just what in the world had happened in that room that made Kusanagi so upset?

But knew that it was now her turn, and she stood up, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. She sighed, and bent down to pick up her cello before she took the steps that would lead her to the screening room.

    "-chan."

Her free hand paused on the handle of the door, and she turned to look at Ohtori. "Hai?"

He smiled at her, and she knew that she would treasure that image forever: Ohtori sitting in a chair, his pale hair illuminated by the shafts of orange sunlight that streamed in through the windows – the last remnants of a dying day that would be reborn come the dawn.

He lifted his hand, and gave her the thumbs-up sign. "Ganbatte."

She smiled, and nodded, murmuring, "Arigatou," before she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

Sakaki Tarou sighed as he wrote one more note down on the sheet in front of him. This had been a long day for him, but he felt that it was going to be worthwhile.

He was mildly surprised at the development that some of the members in the strings section had made. Even Ohtori, whom he assumed hardly had time to practice his violin outside of Orchestra practice because of tennis practice, had definitely improved his playing technique.

He looked up when he heard the quiet shuffling of feet at the entrance of the room, and saw step in, toting her cello with her.

He spoke up then: "No need for the cello, ." He nodded at the cello that was standing at the center of the room, leaning against a chair. "You will play that one."

blinked, but responded with a soft "Hai, sensei," as she set her own cello aside, and walked up to the chair, sitting down on it as she leaned the cello against her body.

Sakaki watched her reactions studiously. He believed that the first sign of a good musician was the way that they handled the instrument. He could always tell those who were dedicated to playing a particular instrument just from the way that they picked said instrument up.

It was clear, from the immediate, that enjoyed playing the cello. He liked the way that she slid her hand lovingly over the varnished wood, her hum of appreciation slightly audible to him in the quiet of the room. The way she cradled it also indicated how much care she gave to the instrument, how she thought that it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen before.

    "You may test the sound, if you wish," Sakaki said, nodding when she looked up at him as if she did not believe what she had just heard.

inhaled, and picked up the bow, positioning her fingers just so on the fingerboard before she passed the bow over the strings, playing a single F note that echoed cleanly and clearly all around the room.

It was that sound that made Sakaki sit up and take notice. He had known for a while now; it was he who had granted her acceptance into the Orchestra, and he who had given her the position of Second Chair Cello after she had proven herself in the start-of-the-year screenings at the beginning of the current year. He had always believed, after hearing her play when she was a freshman, that she had the potential to be a very, very good cellist, and that she had more talent just waiting to be developed.

It was time to put that theory to the test.

    ", play the cello section of the Andante cantabile," he said, and leaned back to listen to what she could do.

    "Hai, sensei." She paused a moment, steadying herself, it seemed, before she laid the bow on the strings once more, and began to play.

As he listened to her, Sakaki could not help but smile. Tchaikovsky's music seemed to flow from the instrument with all the grace of a prima ballerina – a comparison that he found fitting, considering that Tchaikovsky was most known for his ballet music like Swan Lake and The Nutcracker. And the way that played it, made it seem as if it was the most natural thing in the world, to urge a piece of glued-together wood and string to make such music as to make the world disappear.

Another thing that Sakaki believed: an instrument was nothing until it was put in the hands of a musician who, besides having the appropriate amount of skill to play it, must, first and foremost, have the desire to make music – not to advance one's own prestige, but to share one's innermost feelings through it.

The cello released one long, final note, and Sakaki knew that she had finished playing. He watched as she shifted slightly, straightening in her seat as she relaxed her hold on the cello and the bow.

He waved his hand slightly. "Thank you, . I will announce the results of the screening on Monday. You are dismissed."

    "Arigatou gozaimasu, sensei," she murmured as she stood up, bowing deeply before she carefully leaned the cello against the chair, placed the bow on the table, and walked to the door, taking her cello with her.

Sakaki leaned back, and smiled. That was a very interesting practice.

    "She's better than I thought. She makes the cello sound very graceful and elegant, if a bit melancholy at times."

Sakaki looked over his shoulder, and watched as Atobe Keigo emerged from his seat in the shadows, where he had gone unseen by everyone who had come into the room. Sakaki nodded in response to his statement. "So it would seem."

Atobe tilted his head slightly. "Are you going to tell them that they just played the Paganini Quartet?"

Sakaki chuckled. "Iie, I don't think I will." He felt that it was a stroke of genius on his part, using the Paganini Quartet right off the bat during the screenings. Since even instruments had their own "personalities," as it were, part of the reason why he used them during the screenings was to find out who could use the instruments to their full potential.

Atobe shook his head, but smirked as he stood up. "I guess you're right not to, sensei." He moved towards the window, gazing downwards at the world beyond the glass. "At least she's better than the one who went ahead of her."

Sakaki nodded. "Amagakari has very little respect for anything or anyone unless it allows her to achieve her own goals. While her goal-oriented strategy is something to be admired, the way she executes her plans is not something that I approve of. Respect, no matter what one wishes to achieve, is important."

    "Hai," Atobe responded with a nod. "Does that mean you're going to let play on the Winter Ball?"

    "Maybe."

Ohtori could practically hear the blood pounding in his ears as he settled down in his usual place in the Orchestra's practice room. Today was the day that Sakaki-sensei would announce the four lucky members of the strings section who would get to play on the night of the Winter Ball, and he was feeling rather nervous.

He turned his head to look across the room, and noticed that seemed a bit pale and drawn. He wished that he could go to her at that moment, and hold her hand to reassure her – and himself – but he could not at the moment.

He blushed at his own thoughts, and shook his head. The afternoon after the screenings, he and had walked home together, and he had to admit that it was the most wonderful afternoon of his life. It did not matter that five minutes into their walk the weather took a turn for the worst and they had to seek shelter underneath the spreading canopy of a tree along the road.

Sakaki-sensei walked into the room at that moment, and it seemed as if his entrance had caused all the sound to dissipate completely from the room. All eyes were focused on him as he walked to the conductor's podium, a sheet of paper in his hand.

    "I have the results of the screenings from last week."

Ohtori felt the tension in the room increase nearly tenfold, and it seemed as if several people had stopped breathing altogether.

At length, Sakaki-sensei cleared his throat, and his eyes dropped down to the paper that he held. "For First Violin, Ohtori Choutarou."

Ohtori breathed an immense sigh of relief, which was quickly followed by a feeling of excitement and joy as his peers congratulated him for being chosen. All around him he heard his fellow violinists congratulating him and patting him on the back.

    "For Second Violin, Kawari Reiji."

Ohtori grinned at Kawari Reiji, who usually played Third Violin in the Orchestra. He liked Kawari, and had always thought that he was talented, for a freshman. He was happy that Kawari now had the chance to prove his skill at the Winter Ball.

    "For viola, Hokuto Airi."

There was a small shriek of delight from the viola section as a small cluster of girls embraced another one. Ohtori smiled once more: while he and Airi were not close by any means, he respected the girl for her skill on her instrument, and for her general amicability to the other Orchestra members.

Sakaki-sensei paused, and waited until the group had settled down, before he continued: "For cello, ."

There was a brief moment of silence, and then there were shouts and laughter as Aoma Kazue and Izumi Aya both cheered approvingly, while the other members of the cello section smiled and applauded their support for the decision. The only one who didn't look very happy was Amagakari Kusanagi.

Said girl suddenly jumped up from her seat, indignation clear on her face. "Demo, Sakaki-sensei, that's not fair!" she exclaimed. "Why did you choose that insignificant little pauper?! She's only Second Chair Cello, and I am First Chair! Why does she get to play?!"

Silence reigned once again over the Orchestra after Kusanagi's outburst. No one – no one – ever dared to question Sakaki-sensei once his decision had been made. After all, it was usually obvious why he chose the people that he did: talent, skill, and whether or not said person deserved the honor that they were going to receive. As far as the Orchestra was concerned, he was always right on the mark, and had never gone wrong with his choices.

Ohtori sighed, and discreetly shook his head. Kusanagi was going to get in so much trouble.

    "Why?" The word came out smoothly – much too smoothly – from Sakaki-sensei's mouth as he focused his gaze intently on Kusanagi. "The chief reason, Amagakari, is that has made marked progress in her playing skills, while you have not done much at all. Also, need I remind you that your playing last week during the screening was so awful that I asked you to stop before you had even gotten to the middle of the movement?"

Kusanagi's face flushed crimson, and sat back down, her head bent so that she was looking at her lap, and so that no one could see her face. There were a few stifled giggles and chuckles around the room, accompanied by mutters of "Serves her right:" Kusanagi, after all, hadn't been very popular because of her intolerable arrogance.

Sakaki-sensei sighed, and then looked back at all of them. "Well, if there are no further questions, I believe that I shall dismiss all of you early. However, the four people who will be playing come the night of the Winter Ball must now come every Saturday afternoon in order to practice their piece under my supervision, apart from attending regular meetings during the week with the rest of the Orchestra. That is all. You are dismissed."

Ohtori stood up, and approached , who was sitting between Izumi and Aoma. The two boys were heartily congratulating , both on her success at the chance to play on the Winter Ball, and her having trumped Kusanagi without really trying.

He smiled as she looked up at him. "Congratulations, -chan. I'm glad that we're going to be playing together."

She laughed quietly, and Ohtori felt quite pleased with himself when he saw the blush that appeared on her cheeks. "Arigatou, Ohtori-kun. And I look forward to playing with you as well."

Ohtori smiled. Somehow, the prospect of playing alongside excited him, made him look forward to the Winter Ball, and even to Saturday practices. At this point, so he believed, nothing could really go wrong for him – or her.

Days swept by so quickly for that she could hardly believe it when, one day, she opened her eyes, and when she looked at her calendar, she realized that it was already the day of the Winter Ball.

She shook her head in disbelief, amazed at how quickly time could fly, especially when one was busy. Apart from her schoolwork, she also had to go to practice every Saturday afternoon, playing the Andante cantabile over and over again with the three other people who had been chosen. It was not enough that they got it right: they had to make it sound right, to please Sakaki-sensei, and everyone knew just how exacting Sakaki-sensei's standards were.

She smiled at the memory, her reflection blushing right back at her as she did so. Though she and Ohtori didn't get to talk much during those afternoons, it was just fine with her. It was enough to get the chance to make music with him, and to hear him play his violin was more than enough compensation for the grueling hours that she had to undergo.

Sometimes, when he didn't have anything else to do, or if there was no tennis practice – which was not often – he walked her home, and the two of them would talk about a lot of things: school, music, tennis, even trivial little things like school gossip.

    "-chan?"

looked up just as her mother poked her head into her room. turned, and smiled pleasantly. "Hai, ‘Kaa-san?"

Her mother smiled. "There is someone on the telephone for you: a nice boy named Ohtori Choutarou."

blinked, and felt heat flood her cheeks as she scrambled out of her room, jogged down the stairs to the living room, and picked up the phone. "Moshi moshi?"

    "-chan? Is that you?"

smiled, even though she knew that he wouldn't see it. "Ah, Ohtori-kun. Hai, it's me."

    "Ah, that's good. Ne, -chan, there's…something I'd like to ask you."

's heart stopped beating for a brief second, before returning triple-time. "Ah…hai. What is it?"

    "Anou…" She heard what sounded like feet shuffling on a carpeted floor, before Ohtori spoke up again. "Anou… -chan, I was wondering if - About the Winter Ball…"

She hardly noticed that she had stopped breathing altogether. "Hai?"

    "I-I was wondering if… If you'd like to go with me after we play at the Winter Ball."

For the second time that day, 's heart stopped beating completely, and she could not find any words to say in response. It was as if her mind had been drained completely and she could not remember anything at all.

Perhaps mistaking her silence for something akin to denial, Ohtori hurriedly added: "Unless, of course, somebody already invited you out, and-"

    "I'll go with you." The words were out of 's mouth without her having to really think, and she could feel herself blush more deeply at the realization that, deep down inside, she had been hoping that he would ask her out to the Ball.

On the other end of the line, Ohtori laughed. "Ah, arigatou for saying that, -chan! What time do I come over to pick you up?"

    "Um… We have to be there before six o' clock, so maybe you could come around at five-thirty? Or is that a bit too late?"

    "Ah, iie, that's perfect. So: five-thirty, ne?"

    "Hai."

    "Alright, I'll see you at five-thirty, then. Ja, -chan."

    "Ja, Ohtori-kun." The line went dead, and put the phone back in the cradle, a small smile on her face even as her heart fluttered. Ohtori had asked her out to the Winter Ball! Of all the surprises that she had encountered thus far, it was the least expected, but perhaps the most welcome. She had been planning to stay for an hour after the performance to have some dinner, and then she was going home immediately. Aoma and Izumi had asked her to stay and sit at their table, but she knew that they had dates, and she really did not want to be the third wheel.

    "Ne, -chan, who was that?"

looked up, and saw her mother standing at the bottom of the stairs. "A friend of mine, ‘Kaa-san: Ohtori Choutarou."

    "Ah, so desu." 's mother smiled knowingly – she and shared an immense understanding of each other, and most of the time, knew what the other had on her mind. "And what did you talk about?"

blushed, and before she could respond, her mother laughed. "Ah, I see. Well then, I suppose that we will have to make you very pretty tonight, ne?"

did not know how to respond to that, except to smile, and to laugh. "Hai, ‘Kaa-san."

Ohtori fiddled nervously with the hem of the sleeve of his tuxedo as the world zoomed past in a blur of light and shadow. The car hummed quietly all around him as the chauffeur navigated the streets of Tokyo, heading for 's house.

Another shiver between excitement and fear tripped up and down his spine at the thought. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, calling up that morning to ask her out to the dance, since he didn't really know if someone had asked her out already. It seemed, however, that his luck was holding, since she agreed to go out with him.

He blushed slightly at the thought, though he smiled pleasantly at the same time. In the days leading up to this night, he and had spent as much time as they could together, which really wasn't all that much. They couldn't really talk during the practices that they had together, and neither could they spend time together afterwards, because Ohtori usually had to head to tennis practice or see to something else entirely. However, during those rare moments when they could talk to each other without having to worry about Sakaki-sensei or Atobe-buchou breathing down their necks, they often spent those times talking, laughing, and learning a lot of things: about each other, and to a certain extent, about themselves.

He felt the car come to a halt just then, and when he looked up he realized that they were in front of 's house. Suddenly, his nervousness overcame him again as he remembered that this time, he was dealing not just with , but with her parents as well. Would they like him? Would they think well of him?

He got out of the car, trying to do so as smoothly as he could, without showing a hint of his unease. It suddenly felt as if there were a hundred pairs of eyes watching him from various windows up and down the street. Nevertheless, he resolutely ignored his anxiety, straightened up, and walked to the door, knocking on it three times.

It was not long before it opened, the house exhaling a blast of warm air scented with delicious cooking. In front of him was a woman who looked like she was in her late thirties or early forties, but she had aged well, retaining a hint of the beauty that might have been her trademark when she was younger.

She smiled up at him. "Ah, you must be Ohtori-kun, ne?"

Ohtori blushed, and bowed. "Ah, hai... Konbanwa."

    "Come in then please," the woman said, stepping inside as she waved him in. "-chan will be down in a few minutes."

    "Arigatou, -san," Ohtori responded, trying not to make a fool of himself as he followed the woman whom he realized was 's mother into the living room, sitting down carefully on the couch as she headed to the kitchen, reappearing a few moments later with a tray laden with a cup and a pot of tea.

She smiled kindly at him as she put the tray down on the coffee table, and poured him a cup of tea. " -chan told me that you were nice, but she did not mention to me just how tall you are."

Ohtori laughed, somewhat embarrassed, but not really knowing how to respond to that, choosing instead to accept the cup that was proffered to him. "She did?"

    "Mmm." 's mother smiled at him as she took a seat in the couch across from him. "She also said that you are quite talented. She says that you are a very good violinist."

Ohtori smiled. " -san is very kind and generous in her compliments."

    "Hontou? But -chan never exaggerates, so if she says that you are talented, then you must be."

Once more, Ohtori didn't know what to say.

's mother laughed, and waved her hand. "Don't be so shy, Ohtori-kun! I know that you feel a bit nervous about the fact that I am talking to you before you leave with my daughter, but I have heard nothing but nice things about you from -chan. She trusts you, and that is more than enough for me – especially after seeing you with my own two eyes." She tilted her head, and her smile grew slightly wider. "It makes me feel happy to know that such a handsome, kind boy is taking care of my daughter."

Ohtori felt heat flood his face at the compliment. "A-anou…arigatou…gozaimasu…"

" ‘Kaa-san?"

Ohtori looked up just as stepped into the room, and felt his heartbeat suddenly increase when he did so. His eyes widened, and he did his best to keep his mouth from hanging open.

stood at the entrance of the living room, dressed in a wine-red silk gown that was elegant in its simplicity. Her dark brown hair was pulled up and away from her face, held in place by tiny jeweled pins that sparkled whenever she moved her head. A small oval-shaped ruby pendant dangled on a thin golden chain around her neck, and simple drop-shaped ruby earrings adorned her ears.

He stood up slowly, fearing that if he made any sudden movement she would disappear right before his eyes. " -san, you look…very beautiful…"

blushed, and turned her head away. "Arigatou, Ohtori-san."

A giggle cut into the silence that settled in, and Ohtori snapped back to attention, turning his gaze to 's mother.

The older woman smiled at the two of them. "Well then, I suppose that the two of you must be off. Take care of -chan for me, Ohtori-kun, and please, bring her home on or before twelve."

Ohtori nodded, and bowed. "Hai, I will bring her home by twelve o' clock at the latest," he promised, and he stood up straight, looking at with a smile. He walked to her, and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

laughed, her cheeks turning a somewhat deeper shade of red, and she slipped her arm into his, walking alongside him as he led her out of the house and into the car.

This was not the first time that had been to the Atobe mansion, since she had been there during the last Winter Ball, but it never ceased to amaze her just how beautiful it was, especially when decorated for an event. This year, the color scheme for the Winter Ball was red and gold – colors that stood in sharp contrast to the usual winter colors of pale blue and white. That was why the ballroom that they entered was festooned with gold and scarlet streamers, while in the center of each table was a water-filled glass bowl, with deep red rose blossoms floating amidst small gold candles.

She glanced up at Ohtori, and noticed that he was not the least bit fazed. It was only then that she remembered that Ohtori had most likely been to this place more often than she could imagine – after all, he was one of the Tennis Regulars, and he most likely came here quite often under Atobe's orders.

    "You came on time."

looked up, and saw Sakaki-sensei standing a few feet away, in front of the small stage where the quartet would be performing. Beside her, Ohtori bowed, while she – dressed as she was in a gown – curtsied instead.

Sakaki-sensei nodded to them in greeting, and approached. "It is a good thing that you came early; it will give you time to practice a little before the ball starts." He nodded towards the stage. "The Paganini Quartet is there for you to practice on."

turned to look at the stage, and blinked at the instruments that she saw. "Anou… Sakaki-sensei? Aren't those the instruments that you asked us to use during the screenings?"

Sakaki-sensei nodded. "Hai. During the screenings, I used the Paganini Quartet to determine whether or not you could really play them. The ones whom I chose were the only ones who possessed enough skill and talent to play on the instruments – people worthy enough to play on a Stradivarius instrument."

felt her hands trembling, unable to believe that she had been playing the Paganini Ladenburg during the screening. She had felt there was something different about the cello: it was temperamental, as it were, but she had learned long ago that for any instrument to play at its best, the musician must learn to respect its personality, and hence she had adapted her playing style to suit what the instrument felt like in her hands.

She had never dreamed or imagined that the cello she had been playing was the Paganini Ladenburg.

    "I will leave you two for now," Sakaki-sensei said then, and he stared walking towards a small door off to the right side of the ballroom. "There is something that I need to attend to. In the meantime, I suggest that you practice, so that you will have no problems when the ball starts later." With that, he left the ballroom entirely.

glanced up at Ohtori, and smiled slightly. "Well…Sakaki-sensei does have a point…"

Ohtori nodded, and smiled. "Shall we, then?"

She returned his smile with one of her own. "Hai."

Atobe listened to the music with a trained ear, a smile of appreciation curling on his lips. It was not everyday that he had the chance to hear the Paganini Quartet being played, and it was even rarer that he got to hear one of his own teammates play on one of the precious instruments.

On the little stage a couple of feet away in front of him, Atobe watched as Ohtori skillfully played the Paganini Comte Cozio di Salabue – the violin that Paganini himself had said that he would never part with. Seated not too far away from Ohtori was , playing on the cello, the Paganini Ladenburg.

Atobe smirked as his gaze shifted from one to the other. The little looks that they shot at each other over the heads and under the noses of the two other musicians with them did not escape his notice – neither did the fact that looked quite beautiful that night.

    "She looks stunning," Oshitari murmured then, his eyes fixed on . "The red suits her complexion very well."

Atobe nodded. "She does look beautiful, doesn't she?"

Oshitari passed a hand over his mouth to cover a smirk. "Do you think Ohtori will make his move tonight?"

Atobe smirked. "Of course he will. Ore-sama said so."

    "Let's pray that he does," Shishido muttered with a snort. "It took a lot of poking and prodding to get him to ask her out for tonight, and he told me he didn't even call her until this morning."

Gakuto rolled his eyes. "Che, Ohtori can be such a baby sometimes! Are you sure he's even ready to take on ? She might be better off with someone more mature, like me."

Atobe rolled his eyes at his teammates. Sometimes he really did not understand what was wrong with these fellows. It was so obvious that, had Ohtori not been interested in her, he, Atobe Keigo, would have pursued her. Alas, he was a gentleman, however, and that meant he would not attempt to pursue the prey that someone else had obviously marked for himself.

He focused his attention on the music once more as the movement reached its climax, and then ended. Atobe applauded his approval as the four musicians stood up, the males bowing, and the women curtsying in response to the appreciation of the audience.

He and Ohtori locked gazes then, and he smirked as he allowed his gaze to slide just so in 's direction. The message that he sent was clear: "Either you romance her tonight, or I will."

It never ceased to amuse Atobe, just how easily Ohtori's face could convey his emotion, and how easy it was to read them. At that moment, Ohtori's face was caught between panic, annoyance, and exhilaration – all of which may have contributed to the way that Ohtori seemed to stiffen when approached him, and gently laid a hand on his elbow as the four of them went off to talk to Sakaki-sensei.

Atobe chuckled, and focused on the plate of cold appetizers that was set in front of him. Whatever may come out of this, he knew that he was not going to be on the losing end. If Ohtori made his move, then he would have the pleasure of having something to nettle Ohtori with from time to time. If Ohtori did not make his move, well then, Ore-sama would be more than happy to fill in his shoes and make sure that the lovely was given the attention that she deserved.

She wondered if this was what it felt like to be drunk, only without the muddle-headedness that was supposed to accompany alcohol inebriation.

Excitement and elation combined in her head in a heady mixture as she listened to Sakaki-sensei give them this little speech about how well they had done, and how he was glad that he had made the right choice in trusting them with this performance.

However, she was only paying attention with half-an-ear to her teacher's words, because she was quite distracted by the young man who was standing beside her.

There was no denying that Ohtori Choutarou was handsome. Anyone who said otherwise was either blind, which was forgivable, or stupid, which was not. wondered, though, if the other girls were aware of the fact that, handsome as Ohtori was, he could actually get handsomer, dressed as he was in a formal tuxedo and sweating slightly from the exertion of playing the Paganini Comte Cozio di Salabue. She was standing close enough to him that she could smell his cologne: a clean, crisp, and yet masculine scent that suited him quite well: and made electricity dance along the edges of her nerves.

He must have noticed that she was looking at him, because he glanced at her at that moment, and smiled. She held his gaze for a while, fascinated by how his smile seemed to make his eyes sparkle, before she realized that she had been caught, and turned away – though it was too late to hide the blush that suddenly flooded her cheeks with heat.

Sakaki-sensei had finally reached the end of his speech: "Now then, go out and enjoy the ball. You have all deserved that much. You are dismissed."

    "Arigatou gozaimasu, Sakaki-sensei," chorused along with the others, dropping a curtsy since a bow was inappropriate given her gown.

When she straightened, she saw Ohtori looking down at her, a smile on his face as he offered her his arm. "Let's go, -chan."

She blushed once again, and slid her arm into the crook of his as he led her out into the main ballroom. For some odd reason, it felt as if all eyes were on her as Ohtori led her to the table where the Tennis Team Regulars sat together for the night.

    "Minna," Ohtori said then, and all of the Regulars turned to look – even Atobe Keigo, much to 's surprise. "This is ." As he said this, felt his free hand drop to the small of her back, and settle there comfortably – and rather possessively.

There was silence for a while, before Atobe stood up, a smile firmly planted on his face as he approached. "Ore-sama has heard much about you, -san," he said, taking her hand and bending down slightly to kiss her knuckles. "Ore-sama has heard of your talent, but Ore-sama thinks that the rumors were remiss in failing to mention your beauty."

    "Ah…h-hai…" didn't know whether to laugh aloud or just run far, far away. While she thought it quite flattering that Atobe Keigo had just complimented her, there was something about his manner of delivery that she found rather unnerving.

She felt the grip of Ohtori's hand on the small of her back tighten just so, and the words that came out of his mouth seemed rather forced. "Atobe-senpai, I think it would be nice to let -chan sit down, ne?"

Atobe moved away, laughing and waving a hand. "Ah, of course, of course: never let it be said that Ore-sama was impolite to a lady."

Ohtori seemed to relax, and pulled out a chair for , allowing her to settle into it before he pushed it back in, and sat down next to her.

spent most of dinner quietly nibbling away at whatever was placed in front of her, unsure as to how she should act. She had never been with any of the Regulars before, though she certainly knew them by reputation. The only one whom she knew personally was Ohtori, but she quickly realized that he was something of an exception to the rule when it came to personality types in the team.

He did not neglect her, however, and tried to draw her into conversation from time to time whenever he could. She responded as politely and as intelligently as she could, and occasionally she would receive a nod or a smile of approval from either Atobe or Shishido Ryou.

The dessert plates had barely been cleared when the lights dimmed, and the music took on a more romantic mood. Couples started drifting away from the tables, congregating on the dance floor not that far away, and sighed wistfully as she watched them gently swaying to the music.

The shift of a chair pulled her attention away, and when she looked she saw Ohtori standing up, smiling down at her as he held out his hand.

    "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, -chan?" he asked, and his smile was soft and sweet.

knew that there was no way she could have denied him at that moment. She smiled back at him as best as she could, and took his hand, shyly following behind him as he pulled her up from her chair, and led her to the dance floor. The moment they found a suitable spot in the midst of the crowd, Ohtori pulled her into his arms, his hands dropping to settle around her waist, while her hands rested on his shoulders.

For some odd reason, could not look at him in the face. There was something so intimate, so special, about this moment, and she felt that if she looked up at him, he would suddenly burst out laughing, say that it was all just a joke, and leave her standing there, alone. It is better, she thought, to believe that this is real, that this is really happening, than to wake up and realize that it is all just a dream.

    "Ne, -chan, is something the matter?"

She could not help but shiver at the feel of his warm breath against her ear. "Ah…hai, I'm just fine."

His chest shifted slightly as he chuckled, and swore that the sound alone was enough to make her knees turn to mush. "Then why don't you look at me?"

sighed, and looked up at him, ignoring how her face stung slightly from the blush that appeared on her cheeks. "I guess I'm just afraid that this is all too good to be true."

He laughed now, softly, and it managed to tug her lips into a smile. "But, -chan, it is real."

    "I'm trying to remember that," she murmured, lowering her gaze.

She felt his hand alight on her chin, and gently tilt her face up. "Don't stop looking," Ohtori murmured; his voice quiet and husky. "I like looking at you, and I like it when you look at me."

It was as if the world had suddenly gone silent, as if no one but they existed in the world. Some part of her knew that she was still moving, but another felt as if she was standing still. "Ohtori-kun-"

Ohtori leaned forward, his lips just a few centimeters from hers: "I really like you a lot, -chan," he murmured. "And I… I would really like it if you…if you…"

smiled, and tilted her head up slightly higher, bringing his lips even closer to hers. "I do like you too, Ohtori-kun."

She felt, rather than saw, the smile on Ohtori's lips, and then the next thing she knew, he was kissing her: tenderly, sweetly, affirming the feelings that they both shared.

He drew back slowly, and held back the tears that threatened at the corners of her eyes.

She smiled, and closed her eyes, listening to the music of his heart. She did not know where this was going to go, but at the moment, it looked bright – as bright as reflected chandelier light on the surface of a violin, as bright as candlelight glancing off the tip of a cello's bow.

Yes, she mused, everything looked warm, and bright.

fin.
Kage
12.August.2005