Hikaru no Go: Walkin' on the Spiral
Title: Walkin' on the Spiral
Series: Hikaru no Go
Characters: Touya, Shindou, mentions of other characters
Summary: The visual kei band!AU from blind_go round 4. I have to admit that despite it's unpolished state, this is one of those fanfics I really liked after I wrote it.
In the depths of my heart is a hidden world
a secret for you and me.
The rough delivery came out almost too raw for the lines Ogata Seiji recognized from times long past. He'd long left the spotlight to concentrate on building up talent, but to encounter his past this way, in the sure voice of a boy who should be too young to know the full power of the emotions behind the lyrics he penned with his own hand --
The lanky boy with blond-dyed bangs was miles away from the polished, cultured look Sai had, but he managed, through sheer force of personality, to subvert and make the song into his own. The guitarists and drummer backing him up weren't bad either. They would need a bit more experience before he could really consider signing them up to be one of his groups, but there was a distinct style here that he liked.
"Do you want to listen to more?" the lead asked the crowd, and they shouted their approval. Their singer consulted with his two guitarists, and they launched into another loud set as the crowd cheered them on.
Definite possibility there, he thought, glancing at the bassist stepping back from the stage lights. He looked at the list of performers with the erratic glow from the live house's lighting system. He eyed the Roman letters making the name of this band.
"Virgil, is it?" Ogata murmured.
= = =
Today was Saturday, but Touya Akira liked to work himself up to a frenzy every time he had to perform outside of the Tokyo conservatory he was studying in. A fumble led him to press on a note higher than what the piece intended. A slight frown marked his forehead, as he concentrated on the song further. Soon he was making elementary mistakes that would earn him a head shake from his teachers.
After a longer series of missed notes in sequence, he gave up playing it through every single dynamic and accent on the piece. He didn't care by now, ignoring the staccatos and trills for his own choices. He refused to keep track of the careful timing and played the chords in deliberate dissonance. He played fiercely and finished the song until the last four bars, and then improvised, until he finished with a flourish.
Satisfied, he let the notes fade into silence, and spun around in shock when he heard someone clapping behind him. Ogata stood by the doorway. "I don't usually go visit where I know I might be welcomed with the worst piano playing on this side of Tokyo." Ogata pressed down the opening notes of the song Akira had played at the end.
"Ogata-san." Akira would have flung himself to the other man, but such actions were extremely undignified. "Throwing a tantrum, Akira-kun?" He ruffled the younger boy's hair, smiling faintly as Akira half-heartedly avoided his caress.
"As if I ever would." They had known each other since Ogata was a student under Touya senior's tutelage and Akira was a toddler tugging at his father's pants' legs. That Ogata decided to pursue a path away from classical music was something most people would regret, but Akira personally believed Ogata was best suited to his work now.
"Do you need a break? I'm about to check on a band I'm thinking of signing up."
"It'll be good. I can't stand this any longer." Akira stuffed the sheaf of music sheets into his bag, and they walked out of the music college with nary a murmur of dissent from Akira's teachers. They wouldn't dare; Akira was one of their best students, and they also avoided all opportunities that will make them lose the Meijin's patronage of the school.
They talked about lighter topics as they went to Ogata's red Mazda. When they were finally in the car, Ogata asked, "I heard you'll be playing that piece next week?"
"Ashiwara-san must have told you."
"Always. He knows I worry about you."
"Who or what band are you planning to corrupt, Ogata-san? Ashiwara's clueless about your plans this time around."
"Visual Kei bands don't actually fall into the category of people you can corrupt and influence so easily - they believe they've already fallen into the deep end of their craft."
"You should know." Akira's tone was teasing, but it was a little known truth that Ogata had been a bassist for one of the most influential VK acts in the country. He had used an assumed name while touring with Erlkönig, which was still a legend in some circles -- if not for their music, then for their singer's tragic death. Akira had been ten at that time, and even then he could remember how Ogata looked in his flamboyant stage rig. "It's rare that you go out of your way to look for a band to sign up, Ogata-san."
"I saw them perform when their bassist surprised me with a demo in the studio and liked what I saw."
"Are they that good?"
"You decide."
After parking in a restaurant, they walked the short distance to Harajuku. The moment they walked towards Jingu Bashi they encountered a carnival atmosphere. They were ordinary strangers in a crowd of black and jeweled hues. A girl dressed up like a French doll tottered in ridiculously high heels, accompanied by a heavily made up boy clad head to toe in leather. Kimono strolled beside French maids in leather and lace, girls in minuscule schoolgirl skirts and rainbow-colored socks sat beside fully made up glam rockers. Akira jumped back when a girl with rabbit ears poked at his shirt and asked what he was dressed up as.
"Saturday at Jingu Bashi. Colorful as always."
"You fit right in with your outlandishly prim clothes." Akira's argyle print sweater garnered titters from the crowd, and he self-consciously rubbed at his arm. Akira kept silent, though he wanted to take a jab at his senior's impractical white suit. A pimp suit, as Ashiwara would say behind his boss' back, earning peals of laughter to those in the know. Ogata nudged him, and nodded to their right.
A boy of Akira's age stood by the bridge, with two guitarists leaning back on the railing behind him. His black suit was trimmed with white banding, and a tiny black top hat with a veil rested on his bleached bangs. He opened his mouth to sing in the purest, rawest voice Akira had ever heard.
It is so bitter death is hardly more so.
But to set forth the good I found
I will recount the other things I saw.
"Ogata-san." Ogata glanced down at the hand clutching his sleeve. Akira was staring at the performers, entranced.
Shindou was not yet done with the performance. He simply took a sip from the bottled water at his feet and then went on to sing another song, and another, until the crowd around them grew. When he was finally done there was scattered applause and not a few catcalls, but the singer bowed and gamely tipped his hat to them. He spotted Ogata in the departing gathering, and walked forward. He glanced curiously at Akira, but then returned his clear gaze to the older man.
"I thought you weren't going to come watch us play after i butchered the last live, Ogata-san."
"And risk missing a riot? Akira-kun, meet Virgil. This is Shindou Hikaru, their front man. Touya is learning classical piano in the Tokyo Conservatory of Music. Shindou is not taking up music, if I recall right?"
"I'm doing Classical Japanese literature. Let me get the rest -- " His two guitarists joined them, one shyly bowing low at Ogata, Akira noticed. "Waya, Isumi, it's Ogata-san again. Is Yashiro on his way?"
"Yes. He just messaged me."
"I'm famished, and it's getting hot. Let's all go out for a break, my treat." Hikaru nodded after negotiating where to eat, and he tugged on the taller guitarist's sleeve. "Hey, Isumi, ask Akari to join us for lunch, I promised to treat her after she made my outfit." After a few more pleasantries, a short girl dressed in a delicate gothic Lolita maid outfit walked over in her high heeled boots.
"Isumi-kun told me to come with you, Hikaru-kun?" She bowed low when she caught sight of Ogata and Akira. "It's Ogata-sensei, and he brought a friend."
"Ogata-san, I shouldn't be here if you're going to talk business," Akira whispered as the band gathered their scattered belongings.
Ogata smiled. "Business is more pleasant the more people are involved. You have to be with people closer to your age as well, Akira-kun," he teased, before they left for the designated meeting place.
The members of Virgil changed before meeting with them. Hikaru's face is still shiny, freshly scrubbed from removing the makeup. Even in casual clothes the band stood out from the late lunch crowd. After their orders Ogata steered the conversation to the band's schedule, and Waya listed down their latest gigs in the live houses. Akari and Hikaru were arguing about something about their costume, talking about braiding and lace. Akari insisted for more, while Hikaru insisted on less.
"Maybe we can sing another Erlkönig song, In nomine for once would be great, and Waya's finally got the German bit down pat."
Akira lost the thread of his chat with Ogata at that point. "You listen to Erlkönig?"
"Isumi-san gave me a recording of their live performances, and I never looked back since. They're amazing. I never thought Isumi would like a band like Erlkönig actually."
"I'm a fan of their bassist." Touya stole a glance at Ogata. The older man was impassive as he he blew a smoke ring into the air, ignoring the unexpected confession from a fan.
Waya slapped his friend's back, grinning. "He learned the bass for his idol."
"N-no, it's not like that, really!" Isumi played with the straps of his guitar case, not looking at their host. Hikaru stepped in before the others could tease Isumi, and they discussed music in general before Akari declared they had to go for cram school. Waya stopped by Akira's side while they were leaving.
"If you really want to listen to our music, here's our demo." Waya flipped a md to him, and he caught it. He winked. "We always keep copies handy, you'd never know when someone might want to get a taste. Shindou's singing an Erlkönig song at the end. I think it's his best song so far."
= = =
At Ogata's insistence Touya went out that night to catch Virgil's live. Still smarting from Ogata's comments about his outfit earlier, Touya dressed in a moss green shirt Ashiwara gave him for his birthday. He'd never worn it before, but he was glad he found a casual tee among his dress shirts. He didn't think his sweaters would be approved by the crowd tonight either.
Ogata was also dressed casually in jeans, and he smirked when he saw what Akira was wearing. "Wandering with the natives?"
"Same to you."
"I always dress like this when I'm out scouting."
"Ogata-san, I was wondering if you can give me a copy of all the Erlkönig albums."
Ogata sighed. "I thought you agreed not to ask me for my old music." It was one summer a year after Erlkönig ended, done on a pinky promise with fingers sticky from melting ice cream. How could Akira explain the sudden interest after hearing Hikaru's performance on the disc? Hikaru's voice drew him closer even after playing the cd over and over again.
"But Shindou -- I want to find out why he liked to sing these songs, and how he stands up against the original."
"He can shine besides Sai's version, I give you that," Ogata murmured, his gaze far away.
"I was also thinking, Ogata-san...." He fidgeted, then went on. "Shindou's song -- I'd rather hear it with the piano instead of the guitar. I wonder if Shindou will let me play with them for a bit."
"Like joining them?"
"Well, maybe."
"I know what you think about Virgil, but have you thought about what your father will say if you do go and join up with them?"
"I won't stop playing the classical piano, if that's what you think."
"Classical piano is not everything, and I think you'll enjoy the break from the stuffy professors." Ogata drummed his fingers on his thigh, thinking. "Do you think you can focus on the band, and the band alone for a considerable length of time? If you can't, you'd better stop this foolish idea of yours right now."
"I thought you would support me in this, Ogata-san."
"The kind of rebellion that worked for me won't work for you. You don't even know what it'll take to make it into their band. Your piano may be beautiful, but it's worthless outside of the concert halls."
"It's not portable too," Akira joked weakly.
"That too." Silence descended on them, and Ogata shook his head. "I don't know why I should bother with you, but then, you are my sensei's adorable child. Visit me next week and I'll have an answer to your request. We still have a date tonight with a band that scintillates in the dark."
As they entered the live house they heard Shindou's voice, amplified over Waya's plaintive rhythms. Akira shivered.
The butterfly steals light and we are in darkness,
But this is the haven that I want.
"I want to be with that kind of brilliance," he whispered. Ogata pretended not to hear, but there was a smirk on his lips as he blew a puff of smoke from his lit cigarette.
= = =
There was the smell of coffee drowned with too much milk and sugar in the air. It was not the way Ogata liked to begin his morning, but women, they enjoyed sweet things. He entered the kitchen, where she sat, wearing his dress shirt. Her charm was diminished in the morning light; she had not yet retouched her makeup, and everywhere there were touches of where he'd smudged her mascara and lipstick. He was merely glad she did not pour the milk directly into the coffeepot.
"Good morning," he greeted, just like how he greeted every single woman he'd slept with for the past three years. The banality was habit. Ogata pursued his desires like he pursued the elusive perfect composition, but he did it only when the stresses of creativity made the notes and lyrics he wanted to create lose their charm. That was the time for the pursuit of pleasantly perfumed women, and the dating game it entailed to satisfy his physical desires. Once morning came and the desires were satisfied Ogata returned to his focus, and that was his music.
In recent months though he had begun to be less and less satisfied with the company of women, finding their too scents too cloying, and their conversation predictable. None of them understood his obsession with the music. Music that came from talented fingers like those of Virgil's bassist. Call it vested interest, if you will, but Ogata could not resist the young man's timid attitude and how it changed the moment he held his guitar.
His woman wrapped slender arms around his neck. "What are you thinking of, Ogata-san?" she murmured, kissing his ear. He leaned back, caressing the arm he could reach.
"I was thinking how plain my bedsheets looks without you lying between them," he teased, nipping at her wandering fingertips. She giggled, and he had to pick up the dating game once more. Finally he got her dressed and out of his apartment led to more promised wining and dining for next week, but Ogata would rather spend a whole day with his last set of sales reports than to hear her chatter again.
When he finally got her out of the apartment, Ogata saw someone sitting by the stairwell leading to his floor. "A pleasant surprise, Isumi-kun."
"I just -- I was in the area."
"Would you like some soda?"
"T -- thank you." A prickle of anticipation raised the hairs on the nape of his neck. He went to the kitchen and hid the remains of his lover's presence in the cabinets, before bringing the chilled bottle of beer to his guest. Isumi eyed the beer dubiously, and he said, "Sorry, I ran out of the children's drinks."
Ogata eyed the younger man, who fidgeted and looked away from his intense gaze. "I thought you weren't interested in hearing the old stories?"
Isumi met his eyes at last. "It's -- I need to know what happened. So it won't happen again."
Ogata sat down on the couch, since Isumi had decided to perch on the armchair. "Only an obsessive Erlkönig fan would have found me to talk about Sai, worried over the chance of history repeating itself."
"It was my cousin's stories about Sai and Erlkönig that made me want to make a band in the first place. And Hikaru shines just like Sai."
"Then let me tell you some stories about Sai. I don't know the full details of Sai's life before the band. Not that we cared much outside of the music and his voice. And he drew me when he sang out of the school looking for band members. Imagine a rocker standing outside of the most prestigious classical school in Tokyo, looking for band members." Ogata smiled at the memory. "Many stopped to listen, but the only one who really asked about the sign on his lap was my sensei. By then Sai was nearly hoarse from singing. The Meijin scolded him for wasting his voice that way, but Sai said he just wanted to reach out to the world."
"He was good at that," Isumi put in. "Saeki-niichan had recordings of your lives, and you can tell Sai lived to be in the spotlight."
"And in that Shindou and Sai are similar, aren't they, Isumi? Do you know what our fans called us?" Ogata asked. "They called us soul mates -- the one that completes the other, or some such tripe."
Isumi's beer stilled on its way to his mouth. "You can say I died a little when Sai passed away. But I don't believe in soul mates and one great love in a lifetime. In that Sai and I are opposites. I suppose there will be no one else to match him."
"I wouldn't mind, that is. I meant well, Ogata-san -- "
"You wouldn't, would you? You're just the type of boy to be like that, Isumi-kun." Ogata smiled. "That's why I like you so much. You seem like a nice boy."
Isumi stuttered his thanks at the compliment, and they settled into silence. Ogata leaned back and closed his eyes. "I'm tired. Stay if you like."
He heard as Isumi stood up and stepped towards him.
"Can I stay over, Ogata-san?" he asked, his voice breathless.
His lips quirked. "I said you can, didn't I?"
= = =
Taking a deep breath, Touya Akira shied away from his usual racks of classical composers and glanced askance at the larger array of cds in the pop and rock section of the music store. "Try to listen to other music to broaden my horizons, Ogata-san says," he muttered. "As if I'd know what to listen to." Especially now that Ogata left that reminder of his decision in his house. He'd had a hard time explaining why his mother had to sign for a digital piano when he had a perfectly serviceable baby grand in the living room.
He'd checked out the sample albums available, but they were either loud and unmelodious, or too cutesy and cheerful to his ears. He gave up keeping his expression neutral -- frankly, they sounded the same to him. Already people were giving him strange looks as he spent way too long contemplating the gaudy covers. He decided to hell with it, and picked five at random. One of them had a pair of schoolboys in blue suits, and there was once with a decidedly gothic theme. The clerk didn't blink and eyelash as he paid for them, and he swore to get Ogata to pay him back somehow for subjecting him to cheezy girly pop.
He certainly didn't expect to hear his name from a near-stranger as he left the shop. "Touya."
"Shindou." He tried hiding his purchases behind him, but Hikaru was quicker. The other boy had grabbed hold of the package, and slipped out the cds. "Shindou, give those back!"
"Call me Hikaru. And what do we have here?"
"Shindou," he returned, even as the other boy flipped through the purchases. He grinned at the anime collection, but didn't say anything. Desperate to avoid avoid comment, Akira said, "Ogata said I have to listen to more modern music. And I saw you perform the other night. It was great."
"We have practice today, want to join us? Best to hear it being made, not just -- " and at this Shindou gestured to the cds in Touya's hand -- "what you can find in the store. It's different on stage you know. Come on."
"I know. but I have plans. A concert to prepare for."
Hikaru shrugged. "Whatever suits you. I'm certain I can find someone who'd like to play along."
As the other boy walked away, Akira felt something slipping away, and before he could resist the impulse he said, "Let me join your band."
Hikaru stopped walking. "Ogata-san left a package in my house today, it was a digital piano. I can't carry it out to the bridge, and I think the lace looks itchy, but if I have to I guess I will."
Hikaru spun on one heel, and his grin was brilliant, even brighter than the sun. "Took you long enough."
= = =
The young man in the middle of the spotlight waited as the opening strains of the piano faded into the noise of the crowd. His pianist paused, fingertips hanging in the air, and then there was a crash of sound as the piano, drums and guitars came together to join their singer's lead.
You're gonna break out, shake me up
Telling me those pretty words but in the end
I see you walking away in the arms of someone else
Hikaru broke out one of his trademark grins as he sat down by Akira's side, and launched to the chorus of the first non-Erlkönig song of the evening.
You make me realize there's nothing within that smile.
I told you the twenty-one ways the truth can be told.
You tell me all about the twenty-one ways you can make them into lies.
Ogata watched as the crowd watched and enjoyed Virgil's performance tonight, and he had no doubt this was it. This was what he'd been waiting for from them all this time. And he had to guess that Sai was probably glad at their successors' performance.
Don't tell me this isn't how we are playing
black vs white to each other.
Don't stop don't stop don't stop I'm going to stay till the end of this ride.
Series: Hikaru no Go
Characters: Touya, Shindou, mentions of other characters
Summary: The visual kei band!AU from blind_go round 4. I have to admit that despite it's unpolished state, this is one of those fanfics I really liked after I wrote it.
In the depths of my heart is a hidden world
a secret for you and me.
The rough delivery came out almost too raw for the lines Ogata Seiji recognized from times long past. He'd long left the spotlight to concentrate on building up talent, but to encounter his past this way, in the sure voice of a boy who should be too young to know the full power of the emotions behind the lyrics he penned with his own hand --
The lanky boy with blond-dyed bangs was miles away from the polished, cultured look Sai had, but he managed, through sheer force of personality, to subvert and make the song into his own. The guitarists and drummer backing him up weren't bad either. They would need a bit more experience before he could really consider signing them up to be one of his groups, but there was a distinct style here that he liked.
"Do you want to listen to more?" the lead asked the crowd, and they shouted their approval. Their singer consulted with his two guitarists, and they launched into another loud set as the crowd cheered them on.
Definite possibility there, he thought, glancing at the bassist stepping back from the stage lights. He looked at the list of performers with the erratic glow from the live house's lighting system. He eyed the Roman letters making the name of this band.
"Virgil, is it?" Ogata murmured.
= = =
Today was Saturday, but Touya Akira liked to work himself up to a frenzy every time he had to perform outside of the Tokyo conservatory he was studying in. A fumble led him to press on a note higher than what the piece intended. A slight frown marked his forehead, as he concentrated on the song further. Soon he was making elementary mistakes that would earn him a head shake from his teachers.
After a longer series of missed notes in sequence, he gave up playing it through every single dynamic and accent on the piece. He didn't care by now, ignoring the staccatos and trills for his own choices. He refused to keep track of the careful timing and played the chords in deliberate dissonance. He played fiercely and finished the song until the last four bars, and then improvised, until he finished with a flourish.
Satisfied, he let the notes fade into silence, and spun around in shock when he heard someone clapping behind him. Ogata stood by the doorway. "I don't usually go visit where I know I might be welcomed with the worst piano playing on this side of Tokyo." Ogata pressed down the opening notes of the song Akira had played at the end.
"Ogata-san." Akira would have flung himself to the other man, but such actions were extremely undignified. "Throwing a tantrum, Akira-kun?" He ruffled the younger boy's hair, smiling faintly as Akira half-heartedly avoided his caress.
"As if I ever would." They had known each other since Ogata was a student under Touya senior's tutelage and Akira was a toddler tugging at his father's pants' legs. That Ogata decided to pursue a path away from classical music was something most people would regret, but Akira personally believed Ogata was best suited to his work now.
"Do you need a break? I'm about to check on a band I'm thinking of signing up."
"It'll be good. I can't stand this any longer." Akira stuffed the sheaf of music sheets into his bag, and they walked out of the music college with nary a murmur of dissent from Akira's teachers. They wouldn't dare; Akira was one of their best students, and they also avoided all opportunities that will make them lose the Meijin's patronage of the school.
They talked about lighter topics as they went to Ogata's red Mazda. When they were finally in the car, Ogata asked, "I heard you'll be playing that piece next week?"
"Ashiwara-san must have told you."
"Always. He knows I worry about you."
"Who or what band are you planning to corrupt, Ogata-san? Ashiwara's clueless about your plans this time around."
"Visual Kei bands don't actually fall into the category of people you can corrupt and influence so easily - they believe they've already fallen into the deep end of their craft."
"You should know." Akira's tone was teasing, but it was a little known truth that Ogata had been a bassist for one of the most influential VK acts in the country. He had used an assumed name while touring with Erlkönig, which was still a legend in some circles -- if not for their music, then for their singer's tragic death. Akira had been ten at that time, and even then he could remember how Ogata looked in his flamboyant stage rig. "It's rare that you go out of your way to look for a band to sign up, Ogata-san."
"I saw them perform when their bassist surprised me with a demo in the studio and liked what I saw."
"Are they that good?"
"You decide."
After parking in a restaurant, they walked the short distance to Harajuku. The moment they walked towards Jingu Bashi they encountered a carnival atmosphere. They were ordinary strangers in a crowd of black and jeweled hues. A girl dressed up like a French doll tottered in ridiculously high heels, accompanied by a heavily made up boy clad head to toe in leather. Kimono strolled beside French maids in leather and lace, girls in minuscule schoolgirl skirts and rainbow-colored socks sat beside fully made up glam rockers. Akira jumped back when a girl with rabbit ears poked at his shirt and asked what he was dressed up as.
"Saturday at Jingu Bashi. Colorful as always."
"You fit right in with your outlandishly prim clothes." Akira's argyle print sweater garnered titters from the crowd, and he self-consciously rubbed at his arm. Akira kept silent, though he wanted to take a jab at his senior's impractical white suit. A pimp suit, as Ashiwara would say behind his boss' back, earning peals of laughter to those in the know. Ogata nudged him, and nodded to their right.
A boy of Akira's age stood by the bridge, with two guitarists leaning back on the railing behind him. His black suit was trimmed with white banding, and a tiny black top hat with a veil rested on his bleached bangs. He opened his mouth to sing in the purest, rawest voice Akira had ever heard.
It is so bitter death is hardly more so.
But to set forth the good I found
I will recount the other things I saw.
"Ogata-san." Ogata glanced down at the hand clutching his sleeve. Akira was staring at the performers, entranced.
Shindou was not yet done with the performance. He simply took a sip from the bottled water at his feet and then went on to sing another song, and another, until the crowd around them grew. When he was finally done there was scattered applause and not a few catcalls, but the singer bowed and gamely tipped his hat to them. He spotted Ogata in the departing gathering, and walked forward. He glanced curiously at Akira, but then returned his clear gaze to the older man.
"I thought you weren't going to come watch us play after i butchered the last live, Ogata-san."
"And risk missing a riot? Akira-kun, meet Virgil. This is Shindou Hikaru, their front man. Touya is learning classical piano in the Tokyo Conservatory of Music. Shindou is not taking up music, if I recall right?"
"I'm doing Classical Japanese literature. Let me get the rest -- " His two guitarists joined them, one shyly bowing low at Ogata, Akira noticed. "Waya, Isumi, it's Ogata-san again. Is Yashiro on his way?"
"Yes. He just messaged me."
"I'm famished, and it's getting hot. Let's all go out for a break, my treat." Hikaru nodded after negotiating where to eat, and he tugged on the taller guitarist's sleeve. "Hey, Isumi, ask Akari to join us for lunch, I promised to treat her after she made my outfit." After a few more pleasantries, a short girl dressed in a delicate gothic Lolita maid outfit walked over in her high heeled boots.
"Isumi-kun told me to come with you, Hikaru-kun?" She bowed low when she caught sight of Ogata and Akira. "It's Ogata-sensei, and he brought a friend."
"Ogata-san, I shouldn't be here if you're going to talk business," Akira whispered as the band gathered their scattered belongings.
Ogata smiled. "Business is more pleasant the more people are involved. You have to be with people closer to your age as well, Akira-kun," he teased, before they left for the designated meeting place.
The members of Virgil changed before meeting with them. Hikaru's face is still shiny, freshly scrubbed from removing the makeup. Even in casual clothes the band stood out from the late lunch crowd. After their orders Ogata steered the conversation to the band's schedule, and Waya listed down their latest gigs in the live houses. Akari and Hikaru were arguing about something about their costume, talking about braiding and lace. Akari insisted for more, while Hikaru insisted on less.
"Maybe we can sing another Erlkönig song, In nomine for once would be great, and Waya's finally got the German bit down pat."
Akira lost the thread of his chat with Ogata at that point. "You listen to Erlkönig?"
"Isumi-san gave me a recording of their live performances, and I never looked back since. They're amazing. I never thought Isumi would like a band like Erlkönig actually."
"I'm a fan of their bassist." Touya stole a glance at Ogata. The older man was impassive as he he blew a smoke ring into the air, ignoring the unexpected confession from a fan.
Waya slapped his friend's back, grinning. "He learned the bass for his idol."
"N-no, it's not like that, really!" Isumi played with the straps of his guitar case, not looking at their host. Hikaru stepped in before the others could tease Isumi, and they discussed music in general before Akari declared they had to go for cram school. Waya stopped by Akira's side while they were leaving.
"If you really want to listen to our music, here's our demo." Waya flipped a md to him, and he caught it. He winked. "We always keep copies handy, you'd never know when someone might want to get a taste. Shindou's singing an Erlkönig song at the end. I think it's his best song so far."
= = =
At Ogata's insistence Touya went out that night to catch Virgil's live. Still smarting from Ogata's comments about his outfit earlier, Touya dressed in a moss green shirt Ashiwara gave him for his birthday. He'd never worn it before, but he was glad he found a casual tee among his dress shirts. He didn't think his sweaters would be approved by the crowd tonight either.
Ogata was also dressed casually in jeans, and he smirked when he saw what Akira was wearing. "Wandering with the natives?"
"Same to you."
"I always dress like this when I'm out scouting."
"Ogata-san, I was wondering if you can give me a copy of all the Erlkönig albums."
Ogata sighed. "I thought you agreed not to ask me for my old music." It was one summer a year after Erlkönig ended, done on a pinky promise with fingers sticky from melting ice cream. How could Akira explain the sudden interest after hearing Hikaru's performance on the disc? Hikaru's voice drew him closer even after playing the cd over and over again.
"But Shindou -- I want to find out why he liked to sing these songs, and how he stands up against the original."
"He can shine besides Sai's version, I give you that," Ogata murmured, his gaze far away.
"I was also thinking, Ogata-san...." He fidgeted, then went on. "Shindou's song -- I'd rather hear it with the piano instead of the guitar. I wonder if Shindou will let me play with them for a bit."
"Like joining them?"
"Well, maybe."
"I know what you think about Virgil, but have you thought about what your father will say if you do go and join up with them?"
"I won't stop playing the classical piano, if that's what you think."
"Classical piano is not everything, and I think you'll enjoy the break from the stuffy professors." Ogata drummed his fingers on his thigh, thinking. "Do you think you can focus on the band, and the band alone for a considerable length of time? If you can't, you'd better stop this foolish idea of yours right now."
"I thought you would support me in this, Ogata-san."
"The kind of rebellion that worked for me won't work for you. You don't even know what it'll take to make it into their band. Your piano may be beautiful, but it's worthless outside of the concert halls."
"It's not portable too," Akira joked weakly.
"That too." Silence descended on them, and Ogata shook his head. "I don't know why I should bother with you, but then, you are my sensei's adorable child. Visit me next week and I'll have an answer to your request. We still have a date tonight with a band that scintillates in the dark."
As they entered the live house they heard Shindou's voice, amplified over Waya's plaintive rhythms. Akira shivered.
The butterfly steals light and we are in darkness,
But this is the haven that I want.
"I want to be with that kind of brilliance," he whispered. Ogata pretended not to hear, but there was a smirk on his lips as he blew a puff of smoke from his lit cigarette.
= = =
There was the smell of coffee drowned with too much milk and sugar in the air. It was not the way Ogata liked to begin his morning, but women, they enjoyed sweet things. He entered the kitchen, where she sat, wearing his dress shirt. Her charm was diminished in the morning light; she had not yet retouched her makeup, and everywhere there were touches of where he'd smudged her mascara and lipstick. He was merely glad she did not pour the milk directly into the coffeepot.
"Good morning," he greeted, just like how he greeted every single woman he'd slept with for the past three years. The banality was habit. Ogata pursued his desires like he pursued the elusive perfect composition, but he did it only when the stresses of creativity made the notes and lyrics he wanted to create lose their charm. That was the time for the pursuit of pleasantly perfumed women, and the dating game it entailed to satisfy his physical desires. Once morning came and the desires were satisfied Ogata returned to his focus, and that was his music.
In recent months though he had begun to be less and less satisfied with the company of women, finding their too scents too cloying, and their conversation predictable. None of them understood his obsession with the music. Music that came from talented fingers like those of Virgil's bassist. Call it vested interest, if you will, but Ogata could not resist the young man's timid attitude and how it changed the moment he held his guitar.
His woman wrapped slender arms around his neck. "What are you thinking of, Ogata-san?" she murmured, kissing his ear. He leaned back, caressing the arm he could reach.
"I was thinking how plain my bedsheets looks without you lying between them," he teased, nipping at her wandering fingertips. She giggled, and he had to pick up the dating game once more. Finally he got her dressed and out of his apartment led to more promised wining and dining for next week, but Ogata would rather spend a whole day with his last set of sales reports than to hear her chatter again.
When he finally got her out of the apartment, Ogata saw someone sitting by the stairwell leading to his floor. "A pleasant surprise, Isumi-kun."
"I just -- I was in the area."
"Would you like some soda?"
"T -- thank you." A prickle of anticipation raised the hairs on the nape of his neck. He went to the kitchen and hid the remains of his lover's presence in the cabinets, before bringing the chilled bottle of beer to his guest. Isumi eyed the beer dubiously, and he said, "Sorry, I ran out of the children's drinks."
Ogata eyed the younger man, who fidgeted and looked away from his intense gaze. "I thought you weren't interested in hearing the old stories?"
Isumi met his eyes at last. "It's -- I need to know what happened. So it won't happen again."
Ogata sat down on the couch, since Isumi had decided to perch on the armchair. "Only an obsessive Erlkönig fan would have found me to talk about Sai, worried over the chance of history repeating itself."
"It was my cousin's stories about Sai and Erlkönig that made me want to make a band in the first place. And Hikaru shines just like Sai."
"Then let me tell you some stories about Sai. I don't know the full details of Sai's life before the band. Not that we cared much outside of the music and his voice. And he drew me when he sang out of the school looking for band members. Imagine a rocker standing outside of the most prestigious classical school in Tokyo, looking for band members." Ogata smiled at the memory. "Many stopped to listen, but the only one who really asked about the sign on his lap was my sensei. By then Sai was nearly hoarse from singing. The Meijin scolded him for wasting his voice that way, but Sai said he just wanted to reach out to the world."
"He was good at that," Isumi put in. "Saeki-niichan had recordings of your lives, and you can tell Sai lived to be in the spotlight."
"And in that Shindou and Sai are similar, aren't they, Isumi? Do you know what our fans called us?" Ogata asked. "They called us soul mates -- the one that completes the other, or some such tripe."
Isumi's beer stilled on its way to his mouth. "You can say I died a little when Sai passed away. But I don't believe in soul mates and one great love in a lifetime. In that Sai and I are opposites. I suppose there will be no one else to match him."
"I wouldn't mind, that is. I meant well, Ogata-san -- "
"You wouldn't, would you? You're just the type of boy to be like that, Isumi-kun." Ogata smiled. "That's why I like you so much. You seem like a nice boy."
Isumi stuttered his thanks at the compliment, and they settled into silence. Ogata leaned back and closed his eyes. "I'm tired. Stay if you like."
He heard as Isumi stood up and stepped towards him.
"Can I stay over, Ogata-san?" he asked, his voice breathless.
His lips quirked. "I said you can, didn't I?"
= = =
Taking a deep breath, Touya Akira shied away from his usual racks of classical composers and glanced askance at the larger array of cds in the pop and rock section of the music store. "Try to listen to other music to broaden my horizons, Ogata-san says," he muttered. "As if I'd know what to listen to." Especially now that Ogata left that reminder of his decision in his house. He'd had a hard time explaining why his mother had to sign for a digital piano when he had a perfectly serviceable baby grand in the living room.
He'd checked out the sample albums available, but they were either loud and unmelodious, or too cutesy and cheerful to his ears. He gave up keeping his expression neutral -- frankly, they sounded the same to him. Already people were giving him strange looks as he spent way too long contemplating the gaudy covers. He decided to hell with it, and picked five at random. One of them had a pair of schoolboys in blue suits, and there was once with a decidedly gothic theme. The clerk didn't blink and eyelash as he paid for them, and he swore to get Ogata to pay him back somehow for subjecting him to cheezy girly pop.
He certainly didn't expect to hear his name from a near-stranger as he left the shop. "Touya."
"Shindou." He tried hiding his purchases behind him, but Hikaru was quicker. The other boy had grabbed hold of the package, and slipped out the cds. "Shindou, give those back!"
"Call me Hikaru. And what do we have here?"
"Shindou," he returned, even as the other boy flipped through the purchases. He grinned at the anime collection, but didn't say anything. Desperate to avoid avoid comment, Akira said, "Ogata said I have to listen to more modern music. And I saw you perform the other night. It was great."
"We have practice today, want to join us? Best to hear it being made, not just -- " and at this Shindou gestured to the cds in Touya's hand -- "what you can find in the store. It's different on stage you know. Come on."
"I know. but I have plans. A concert to prepare for."
Hikaru shrugged. "Whatever suits you. I'm certain I can find someone who'd like to play along."
As the other boy walked away, Akira felt something slipping away, and before he could resist the impulse he said, "Let me join your band."
Hikaru stopped walking. "Ogata-san left a package in my house today, it was a digital piano. I can't carry it out to the bridge, and I think the lace looks itchy, but if I have to I guess I will."
Hikaru spun on one heel, and his grin was brilliant, even brighter than the sun. "Took you long enough."
= = =
The young man in the middle of the spotlight waited as the opening strains of the piano faded into the noise of the crowd. His pianist paused, fingertips hanging in the air, and then there was a crash of sound as the piano, drums and guitars came together to join their singer's lead.
You're gonna break out, shake me up
Telling me those pretty words but in the end
I see you walking away in the arms of someone else
Hikaru broke out one of his trademark grins as he sat down by Akira's side, and launched to the chorus of the first non-Erlkönig song of the evening.
You make me realize there's nothing within that smile.
I told you the twenty-one ways the truth can be told.
You tell me all about the twenty-one ways you can make them into lies.
Ogata watched as the crowd watched and enjoyed Virgil's performance tonight, and he had no doubt this was it. This was what he'd been waiting for from them all this time. And he had to guess that Sai was probably glad at their successors' performance.
Don't tell me this isn't how we are playing
black vs white to each other.
Don't stop don't stop don't stop I'm going to stay till the end of this ride.