The Accompanist

Chapter 7: The Invitation

There were three new rumors circulating around Happari University. One: some new fake blonde kid managed to capture Sayuri's attention. Two: some new Russian kid was insanely good at the drums. Three: a delinquent was trying to be a college student.

Only two of them were true.

Boutarou had been practicing with Sayuri once a week and flirting with her at least once a day. He was determined to come to like the way she played. He meshed well with her in practice. Most of the time, he still found himself looking at the wall rather than at her at the end of the piece. But he still showered her with compliments every rehearsal, doing his best to keep up the act until it became reality.

On his way to music history class, he got to hear Mitsuo practice the drums in passing. And from the looks of it, he was getting too good too fast. No one believed he was a beginner. And someone swore they saw his arm bend in the opposite direction to reach a cymbal. Isuke noticed him alone at lunch one day and invited him to sit with them. Ever since, he'd been showing up in their group whenever they least expected him to be there.

Shiki came around every once in a while, catching up with Boutarou on the latest news and narrowing his eyes whenever Sayuri was brought into the conversation. Eventually, Boutarou avoided the topic of girls other than Chiho whenever he was around. Not only did he not like what Shiki had to say, he was starting to realize that some of it held truth. And because of Shiki, he was beginning to realize Sayaka held way more weight in his life than he wanted to admit.

His piano playing and study of Chopin was going well. That was, until he stopped learning Etudes and Nocturnes and Waltzes and moved on to his first Ballade. Out of all the Ballades, the first was the most well-known. He could have sworn he heard Mrs. Umari play it when he and Sayaka were kids. That was why he picked it. If he had seen the coda or done any research at all whatsoever, he would have picked the third instead.

But there he sat, on the piano bench, the 17-page piece staring back at him from underneath the five dark lines that characterized the staff.

"'Play the beginning again,' she says. 'You're not counting it right,' she says. How am I counting these triplets wrong?!" He wanted to bash his head against the score. But just when he pulled back his head, an imaginary hand stopped him.

Boutarou. There will be no self-harm while we practice piano.

He sighed, Mrs. Umari's voice ringing out in his ears. "Fine..." Pulling out his phone, he set the metronome to a nice slow largo and counted the beats as they clicked through the speaker. One and two and...

Deep breath. ONE and two and three AND FOUR AND... Getting to the top was easy. It was coming down that he was counting wrong. But every recording he listened to seemed to play it differently. Why couldn't he just play it the way he wanted to? Why did Mrs. Yaketsuko force him to learn the rhythms the way they were written on the page?

Another deep breath. He already knew the answer. In order to mess with the rhythm, he first had to learn how to play it right. But why? It sounded like trash. It sounded like... He stopped. His eyebrows twitched. Like Sayuri.

He shook his head and lowered himself to the ground, doing pushups to the tempo of the metronome. I will not think bad thoughts about Sayuri. Down, up. I will not think bad thoughts about Sayuri.

Just as he was doing pushups, there was a knock on the door to the practice room. Knowing it could only be one person, Boutarou hopped up, ran his fingers through his hair, and opened it.

"Ah! Sorry... You were in the middle of something, weren't you?"

Duh. I'm in a practice room. Of course I'm in the middle of something, was what he wanted to say. But he couldn't say it. Not to Sayuri. "I'd rather be talking to you," was what he decided on, cheesy grin and all. "Why, what's up?"