The Accompanist

Chapter 8: The Concert of Dread

When Boutarou and Sayuri made their way inside of Onsei, Boutarou noticed a vaguely familiar man out of the corner of his eye. But as to why he was familiar, he couldn't quite place it. They were wearing a judges badge. He'd probably seen him in one of Sayaka's competitions, but something in his gut told him that wasn't it.

Before he could think anymore about it, Sayuri took his arm and led him to the auditorium. Once they were seated to the right of the stage somewhere in the middle, she opened the program and looked through it. "Ah! My friend performs third."

"Great." He didn't look. If he looked, he'd find out if Sayaka was playing. Who was he kidding. It wasn't a matter of if. It was a matter of when.

Inhale. Exhale.

When she came out on stage, he wouldn't react. He was here to be with Sayuri.

"...Boutarou-kun? Sorry... For making you come here... I thought you would be happy..."

"Hm? Ah, sorry. I am happy," he said, managing a smile despite the cold sweat that clung to his neck. "This school is really famous, isn't it? I'm sure all of the performers will be really talented."

She smiled back at him, placing a warm hand on his arm. "Yeah! I heard you can't even get into this university without a recommendation from the headmaster at your previous school... Everyone here is amazing!"

The lights began to dim, signaling five minutes until the start of the performance. Programs shuffled, people coughed, and the pungent smell of old carpet filled Boutarou's nose. He wasn't used to being in the audience. Maybe amidst the sea of guests, he would become invisible. But as they started filling the area around him, he realized that his dyed blonde hair stuck out like a sore thumb.

Inhaling another deep breath as inconspicuously as possible, he tried to calm his racing heart. He focused on the warmth from Sayuri's hand on his arm. The whispers of excitement from the elderly couple behind him. And then, he heard it.

"Hm? Who is this accompanist?"

The skin on the back of his neck prickled at the word.

"Aikawa Katsumi... Never heard of him."

"I wonder what happened to--"

In that moment, the lights dimmed fully, and the couple was hushed. But Boutarou couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to say his name.

The first performer was a pianist. According to Sayuri, the boy on stage was playing Liszt's 2nd Etude, "Gnomenreigan."

The consecutive seconds grated on his ears similar to the Chopin Etude he had learned, but there was more of a peppy randomness to it that he couldn't seem to follow. This was a piece he felt as though he could never hope to learn. Nor did he want to. But something about it made his fingers tap in his lap in frustration. Can I even move them that fast?

As the Etude neared the end, there was a particularly difficult bit that had him fully concentrated on his own hand movements. A few bumpy, repetitive, low notes later, the piece ended. As the pianist bowed, the crowd applauded, but no one stood.

Sayuri leaned over and whispered above the applause. "That would be a piece of cake for you, wouldn't it?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah..." As much as he didn't want to admit it, he doubted he could even learn the piece in a week, much less two. And it had only lasted for 2 minutes... Onsei students were on an entirely different level.

The second piece played by the same pianist was Debussy's "L'isle Joyeuse." It started out with trills that faded seamlessly into beautiful runs. Characteristic of Debussy, as Boutarou now knew, there were offset chords scattered randomly to make the piece sound like an impressionist painting, several dots of color, no defined lines.