[One-shot] 8 Days and 7 Nights in Nagano (PoT/Nodame Crossover)
Title: 8 Days and 7 Nights in Nagano
Fandoms: Prince of Tennis / Nodame Cantabile
Characters: Fuji/Eiji, Oishi (mentions of Chiaki, Mine, Nodame, Stresemann)
Rating/Warnings: light PG / Crossover AU
Wordcount: 4200+ words
Summary: Eiji meets Fuji at the Nina Lutz Music Festival in Nagano.
Spoilers: Very light not-really-spoilers for Nodame Cantabile (manga vol 4 ch 22-23 / anime ep 9). No real spoilers for Prince of Tennis.
Author's Notes: Written for tatematsu_norio for pot_exchange. First posted here on April 30, 2007.
Beethoven is rumored to have had a difficult personality, so Eiji used the comparison to illustrate how difficult it was to live in the same cabin as Tezuka.
Nagano was hot in the summer. Eiji wished he hadn't decided to wear that all-black satin dress shirt for the concert. It looked great under the spotlights, and the dull sheen of the material certainly brought out the red in his hair, but it was also sticky and cloying if one spent more than five minutes outside in the warm evening air.
As he had been outside for seven minutes now, it wasn't really any wonder that Eiji was tempted to unbutton the shirt and leave it open to his waistband, ignoring all conventions of decency. He didn't, but he wanted to. His violin case felt heavy in his left hand, and the handle slippery-damp. Eiji sighed, feeling as if he would wilt. Oh, for a t-shirt and jeans again! At least the cabin wasn't that much further away. He could shower, if his roommate wasn't already--
--oh, right, Eiji remembered, perking a little. He hadn't seen his roommate yet. Would it be someone interesting? Someone nice? Whoever it was, Eiji hoped it wasn't someone boring like last year. Last year, he had been assigned to the same cabin as someone called Tezuka Kunimitsu from the Kyuushuu Musical Academy. Tezuka had been anti-conversational, boring, and he frowned all the time he was in the cabin. An incredible cellist, yes, but the man's acerbic personality clashed horribly with Eiji's boisterousness. It felt like Beethoven had moved in with him, Eiji had said to Oishi once. He'd been pleasantly gratified when Oishi had choked with scandalized laughter and then told Eiji off. Eiji had ended up avoiding the cabin unless he had to go back to sleep or change.
Oh well. If this year was just as bad, maybe Eiji could ask Oishi to let him crash or even swap roommates. You couldn't request roommates, but people from the same school tended to be put together. Last year there had been three from the Nagano School of Music, though, and Eiji had been the unlucky odd one out. Something about spending too much time with Oishi anyway. Silly teachers. Of course you spent time with the accompanists, especially when they were as talented as Oishi. How else could they perform together so brilliantly? Eiji was good on the violin, but Oishi made Eiji sound like he was really good.
The cabin was just down the road now. The curtains were drawn, but there seemed to be lights on inside it. Eiji smiled, despite his misgivings. It was always better to smile when you were going to meet someone. The expression on your face affected your mood just like it affected your performance. Oishi had told Eiji that once, and Eiji had never forgotten it. He always smiled on stage.
There was definitely someone inside the cabin; Eiji could hear a flute, melodic and graceful. He paused outside, listening to the soft strains of the music as it lilted lightly and danced about him, tantalizing him with small flourishes. It took him a moment to realize it was an impromptu variation on the Overture to The Magic Flute, and Eiji began nodding his head to the violin that had began to accompany it in his mind. The music was graceful and unpredictable, though thankfully, it stayed true to the underlying chord structure.
Hmm, flutists were generally nice ... weren't they? Eiji hadn't met any stuck-up ones yet, at any rate. And they were less likely to clash with a violinist. Different instrument family and all that, after all. "Okay," Eiji told himself. "Just go in there and smile, and greet them like you'd greet anyone! At the least, as long as we get along, no one has to be best friends, nya." With that, Eiji knocked once, and opened the door of his cabin.
The flutist stopped and turned, then gave Eiji a welcoming look as he lowered his flute. "Hello," the young man said. "You must be my roommate."
Eiji smiled back. "Kikumaru Eiji, but call me Eiji," he said. "That was The Magic Flute, wasn't it? An impromptu? A lesser-known variation or invention?"
"Fuji Shuusuke. It's actually an improvisation," Fuji said, looking pleased. "Would you like to hear more?"
"Please," Eiji said, grinning as he set his burden down. "Can I join in?"
The other man eyed Eiji's violin case and beamed. "You're the violinist from today's concert. I enjoyed your performance greatly. It would be an honor."
The next morning, Eiji managed to beat his alarm clock, but only by about five seconds. Fuji, who really didn't look to Eiji like he was from a small and hippie-sounding conservatory in Chiba, stirred, murmuring a soft "Good morning", but made no move to wake up. That was fine with Eiji, who happily hopped into the bathroom.
When Eiji finally emerged, Fuji was up. Actually, Fuji was sitting on his bed and stretching languidly, but any semi-upright position was up in Eiji's book. Eiji was practically bouncing with excitement as he buttoned his shirt. A master class with Kiyo Buskovich! "What time is your flute master class?" he asked Fuji's reflection in the mirror.
Fuji looked at the clock on the table, and stood in a fluid motion. "In thirty minutes," he said. "Don't wait for me, okay?"
"See you later, then," Eiji said, grinning as he waved Fuji into the bathroom. "Don't be late!"
"Fuji!" Eiji looked past Oishi and grinned, waving as he spotted a familiar face. Maybe Oishi would like Fuji. Then they could play in trios together some time. Eiji patted the table beside him, motioning Fuji over even as he turned to address Oishi again. "Sorry, Oishi, I just need to introduce you guys, and then we can continue the story, okay? This is my roommate, Fuji. He's from the Chiba Contemporary Conservatory. Fuji, this is Oishi. He's the best accompanist in the world. We're the Golden Pair--we won the National Honda Music Competition all because Oishi made us sound so good!"
Opposite Eiji, Oishi smiled sheepishly. "Eiji's very kind," he said, and then extended a hand to Fuji, who shook it with a friendly air. "Really, we worked hard together. It was very gratifying to have our hard work rewarded."
Already finished with the introductions, Eiji turned back to Oishi. "And? How was the class after that? How did it go? Did she come back and say she was sorry?"
Oishi shook his head solemnly. "Aa-- Well, we continued to play. She didn't come back, but if Nina Lutz had shouted at me like that I wouldn't be able to show my face in front of the class either. Maybe she'll be back this afternoon? There are some really amazing pianists here. I look forward to hearing the pieces they'll be performing at the end of the festival. Speaking of which," Oishi looked at Fuji, "What do you play?"
"Flute," Fuji said simply.
"Fuji's a great player! We did some improv last night--you should have heard us, Oishi, it was great--and I'm so tired from staying up late. I'm glad no one came to tell us to stop, though. Could you hear us from your cabin, Oishi? Oh, and why don't you open your eyes a bit more, Fuji?" Eiji said curiously. "Are the lights too bright?"
"Eiji!" Oishi said, sounding like he was trying not to laugh. Oishi was always telling Eiji not to say things like that, but really, Oishi was too polite and reserved sometimes. These were important questions!
"It's alright," Fuji said, smiling now at Oishi, who now looked obviously relieved that Eiji hadn't offended this year's roommate yet. "Kikumaru-san's very refreshing."
"I told you, call me Eiji," Eiji said, interrupting with a wagging finger. "Kikumaru-san is my mother or my father, and it gives me all kinds of creepy feelings to be called that. Just Eiji, okay?"
"Please excuse Eiji's manners," Oishi said, but it was a kindly and indulgent expression. "He doesn't mean anything by it. Just take them as you remember them. If it matters, he'll ask again."
"Hoi, Oishi, you worry too much. Fuji knows it's alright," Eiji grinned, shrugging as if he wasn't at all embarrassed. Then his eyes brightened as they landed on something Eiji loved very much. "Ne, Fuji, are you going to eat that strawberry pudding?"
"Eiji! At least give him a chance to eat his lunch first!" Oishi admonished, sounding absolutely scandalized. Fuji laughed.
"Noda-san wasn't at the pianists' rehearsal today," Oishi said when Eiji asked him at lunch the next day. "And no, Eiji, I don't know where she is."
"You seem very interested," Fuji said. "Why is that?"
Eiji shrugged, somewhat put-out. "I just think it's a waste," he said, landing none-too-gently on the bench beside Fuji, the tray clattering lightly. "We auditioned for this festival, and we practiced a lot, didn't we, Oishi?" Not bothering to wait for his friend's nod, Eiji continued, arms gesturing dramatically. "Listen to them! Those three--including Noda-san--they got here without having to audition. That means they're supposed to be talented, doesn't it? Why don't they appreciate that talent some more and work harder? Hoi, it irritates me."
"Eiji, really," Oishi said, motioning Eiji to sit again, and mouthing apologetically at Fuji. "Sorry, Fuji-san."
"I don't mind," Fuji said with a soft chuckle. "Eiji's interesting."
"See, Oishi?" Eiji said, grinning. "Fuji's so much better than Tezuka-san was. Best roommate ever! Well, not that I'm saying you wouldn't be cool, but--"
Fuji chuckled as Eiji broke off mid-sentence and began to stammer an apology. Oishi was laughing now, and shaking his head. "It's okay," Oishi said, still grinning. "I'm used to you now, Eiji. I know what you mean."
"Hee," Eiji said, and he bounced up from his seat to throw himself on Oishi's back. "Golden Pair, that's us! Oishi knows me so well, don't you, Oishi?"
Fuji looked thoughtful as they laughed easily.
"I wonder who he is," Fuji said out of the blue.
"Who who is?" Eiji said, pulling the t-shirt down over his head before he turned towards Fuji with a quizzical look. That was a strange way to start a conversation, wasn't it?
"Our conductor's apprentice," Fuji said, looking thoughtful as he gently polished his flute.
"Oho," Eiji said, turning to give Fuji a grin. "Very interested in him, are you?" Eiji began, ready to tease Fuji. Fuji was interested in the student conductor, who was, admittedly, the type of guy that was popular with girls and with certain types of guys. Eiji hadn't meant to notice, but it was really obvious the festival orchestra's openly-effiminate percussionist Masumi had been looking at that Chiaki-san all day, and not just to catch musical cues. "Isn't the timpanist from the same school always look--"
He trailed off as a thought struck him. Wait. If Fuji was interested in the hot assistant conductor, that meant Fuji was gay and interested in guys. Eiji was a guy and Eiji was in the same room as Fuji. Oh, heck, he'd been pulling his shirt off and on in front of Fuji, and running around in a towel! Regular guys didn't care, but Fuji probably thought he had horrible abs, and really, Eiji should have been exercising more instead of spending so much time with his violin! Fuji probably thought all Eiji had to wear was that horrible yucky t--
"There's no need to look so horrified. I don't bite," Eiji heard Fuji say, and Eiji realized he'd been staring at the mirror, his reflected face in Fuji's line of sight. Though Fuji was currently looking away from the mirror, instead focused on the flute in his hands, still polishing as if nothing had happened.
Eiji backpedalled and turned, waving frantically. "I-- That is, it-- You-- ... er, I'm sorry!"
"For what?" Fuji asked, looking up with a genuinely quizzical look in his eyes.
"I'm sorry I haven't been exercising and I have horrible clothes and I was just walking around the cabin in the ugliest things, because I'm sure you like looking at cute guys and just because I don't swing that way doesn't mean I shouldn't be considerate, and I-- what, Fuji?" Eiji said, breaking off in bewilderment as Fuji started laughing. Fuji's hand was over his mouth, and his eyes were shut, but his shoulders shook, and muffled noises emerged from behind the hand that were most definitely noises of mirth.
With a huff, Eiji crossed his arms. "What's so funny?" he demanded. How dare Fuji laugh when Eiji had been feeling bad over being inconsiderate of Fuji? See if Eiji ever thought of Fuji again!
Fuji's shoulders shook again, and then Fuji gasped desperately from behind his hand. "I'm sorry, Eiji," Fuji said, gulping for air, and then hiding his mouth again as he shook once more in amusement. "I-- Eiji-- It's just-- You're so cute!"
Eiji's mouth fell open and he stared at Fuji, who continued to giggle, though it was slowly subsiding. Then Eiji realized the corner of his mouth was twitching, too. Fuji, calming down, relaxed slightly; Eiji could tell, those shoulders lowered just a little bit. So Eiji grinned, and winked, flashing Fuji a 'V'.
From the next cabin a violin began, and both of them listened to it before recognizing the piece. Eiji winced, and Fuji laughed.
"We can't lose to them, can we?" Fuji said, putting his flute's polishing cloth aside as he gave Eiji a tilt of his head.
"Hehe," Eiji said, giving Fuji a conspiring wink. "Let me grab my bow."
"I'm so tired," Eiji said, flopping with a loud whoosing thump and a creak of protest from the bed, landing ungracefully in a sprawled-out tangle of red hair and outstretched limbs, legs dangling over the edge of the mattress. "Hoi, Fuji, don't wake me for dinner."
"What if they serve strawberry yoghurt?"
"Oh," Eiji said, surprised, jumping up again. "Are they really? Come on, Fuji, we have to get to the dining hall!"
Fuji shook his head and chuckled, setting his flute case down lightly on his table. "Sorry, Eiji, I was only teasing you. But maybe they have some strawberry milk. Would you like some from the vending machine on the way?"
Eiji pouted, sitting down and shaking his head. "No," he said. With a sigh, he leaned back down on the bed again. In his mind, he could still hear the orchestra, and he hummed the violin part lazily to the ensemble in his head. He'd missed this--this orchestral gathering, everyone working completely in sync, attuned to the baton of a true master. "Stresemann-sensei's a great conductor, isn't he?"
"Mmm," Fuji responded, nodding agreeably in the corner. "Though I missed Chiaki-kun," he said.
Eiji wondered if Fuji was already cleaning his flute. Eiji needed to put a little more rosin on his bow, too, but he could do that before bed. They'd probably do a bit of improv tonight anyway; at least, Eiji hoped they would.
"Ne, Fuji," Eiji said.
"Yes, Eiji?"
"You pay a lot of attention to Chiaki-san," Eiji said. "Do you like him that much?" It wasn't very nice of Fuji to ignore the master conductor in favor of the apprentice. Not that anyone could tell, really, because Fuji looked the same on the outside, but Eiji knew. He'd been living with Fuji less than a week, but somehow you could tell.
"Why do you ask?" Fuji replied. Eiji opened his eyes. Fuji was polishing his flute, just like Eiji thought he would be.
"You're polishing your flute like I thought you would," Eiji said, completely off-topic. "I dunno. I was just wondering. You keep looking for him when you should be looking at Stresemann-sensei."
Fuji chuckled and his grin stretched wider, but he was still paying attention to his flute. Eiji frowned. "What's so funny, Fuji?"
"Oh, nothing special," Fuji said, and he looked up, smiling sweetly at Eiji. "You should pay more attention to the maestro yourself, shouldn't you, Eiji?"
"I would if you didn't worry me so much," Eiji retorted, sticking his tongue out at Fuji. Stupid Fuji, not even appreciating a friend's concern. With a huff, Eiji closed his eyes so that he wouldn't be glaring up at the ceiling. It wasn't an interesting ceiling anyway. An interesting ceiling would be one with flourescent stars and maybe some cool posters. Maybe a poster of Chocolate.
"Thank you for worrying," Fuji said after a moment's silence.
When Eiji looked at Fuji, he was met with a somewhat hesitant expression. Eiji sighed and rolled his eyes theatrically. "Hoi, you need to worry about yourself more," Eiji said. "The selections for the final concert soloists are tomorrow. I hope you're ready! I'm not going to take it easy on you!"
"But Eiji, we don't play the same instrument," Fuji said with an amused chuckle.
"Whatever," Eiji said, shrugging. "I'm still going to play my best! So you'd better do so too, okay, Fuji?"
"Mmm," Fuji said, and Eiji wondered whether Fuji cared whether or not he played in the concert. That was weird. How could you audition to come here and then not want to play in the final concert to see how well you improved? Didn't Fuji care enough to want to come here in the first place? Why else was Fuji here?
"It's not just 'mmm', Fuji," Eiji said, and he glared at the other, arms crossed. "You came here for a reason, didn't you? Well, I came here to learn and to get better. I bet you did, too! Stop acting cool like that Chiaki guy. He's a conductor and I bet he's stuck-up because he's got Stresemann for a teacher. You're a nice guy, Fuji, and I don't think you're stuck-up, so why don't you care a bit more? You're talented, and you should use it! Just doing improv together is great, but I want to play with you at your best in a concert! You and me, blowing them away! If all you're going to say is 'mmm' then how will I ever get to do that?"
Fuji tilted his head to the side and looked at Eiji with those closed eyes. Eiji suspected they were really thin and Fuji could see through them, and that was why Fuji never opened his eyes. He crossed his arms, returning that stare he just knew Fuji was giving him. Through closed eyelids, sure, but he bet it was a stare anyway. Well, Eiji could stare right back.
Fuji said, "Do you really want to play with me, Eiji?"
"Yes," Eiji said, waving his hands exasperatedly. "I don't say things I don't mean. Weren't you listening to me yesterday after our improv?"
"I didn't think you meant that seriously," Fuji said.
Eiji gaped, and then shook his head. Fuji was just strange sometimes. "Why would you think so? I mean what I say! Geez, Fuji. Anyway, now you know, so can we finally work on a piece together? Oishi picked out a great duet for two violins, and he said you were good enough to do a violin part in flute. I agree, nya. Here, I don't know if you know this piece, but I'll help you and teach you if there's anything you need to know, okay?"
"Alright, Eiji," Fuji said, sounding considerably cheered. That, or very amused. Eiji wasn't sure which one it was yet, because those two sounds were really close where Fuji was concerned.
Eiji sighed and put his violin case carefully away under his bed where it was safest. His stomach growled a little, and Eiji made a face. It was all Fuji's fault, talking about strawberry milk and yoghurt and cupcakes and other yummy things. He wanted dinner to be ready already. "Let's practice after dinner. Now hurry up," Eiji said. "I want strawberry milk."
"Alright, Eiji," Fuji said, putting away his flute and getting some change for the vending machine.
The moment his last master class finished, Eiji rushed to the dining hall, where he found the two people he was looking for.
"Oishi!" Eiji said happily, glomping him. "And Fuji," Eiji said, waving, as Oishi laughed. Fuji patted the seat beside him and motioned. Eiji squeezed in beside Fuji, grinning happily. "Guess what? Buskovich-sensei said I was a real showman! He said if he knew of anyone looking for a performer that could draw the crowds, he'd look me up, nya!"
"That's great, Eiji," Oishi said warmly, and Fuji echoed him. Eiji was so happy he could burst, and he nudged Fuji. Oishi said, "What about your verdict, Fuji-san?"
"Oh, it was alright. Every year they tell me I'm too distracted," Fuji said, shaking his head carelessly with a soft smile. "This year they said I was less so. I'm sure that's an improvement."
"Bet you were thinking of Chiaki-san," Eiji said, making a face at Fuji. Stupid Fuji, always thinking of Chiaki. It was rude to Fuji's roommate, couldn't Fuji see that? Eiji saw a tiny shift in Fuji's espression, but he ignored it, turning to Oishi, who was now looking at Fuji and then back at Eiji with his mouth open. "So what did Nina Lutz-- Oishi, pay attention," Eiji said, waving his hand in front of Oishi, who turned red and apologized.
"I'm sorry, Eiji, I wasn't paying attention. Could you say that again?"
"I asked you what Nina Lutz said," Eiji said, giving Oishi a look. Oishi needed to share exactly what he was thinking. So what if Fuji had been thinking about Chiaki-san? Many great musicians were gay. The timpanist in their orchestra certainly was, and very obviously so, too. Eiji didn't think Oishi was the conservative type, but if Oishi was going to avoid Fuji because Fuji was gay, then Eiji would just have to yell at Oishi later and change his mind. Oishi wasn't that kind though. Eiji was sure of that.
Oishi was spacing out and looking flushed again. Eiji waved his hand before Oishi's eyes, and finally caught his friend's attention. Really, what was wrong with Oishi? "Are you okay, Oishi?"
"Oh, I'm fine," Oishi said, hurriedly.
Eiji gave him a considering look, but then changed the subject. "So? What did she say about your piano?"
"Who? Oh, that," Oishi said, looking relieved to be back on familiar territory. "She said I was good, but I think she didn't notice me very much. It's okay--I wasn't what she was looking for in a soloist, but I like being accompaniment to the really great performers."
"Hee," Eiji said, and he grinned. "Oishi, I'm sorry, it's selfish of me to say this, but I'm glad she isn't taking you away, nya. I'd cry if she split the Golden Pair!"
"Me too, Eiji," Oishi said, smiling warmly.
Then Oishi's eyes darted to the left, and he seemed startled and a little frightened as he shook his head hurriedly. "O--Of course, I wouldn't mind at all if you played with others, Eiji! I'm just happy we'll be able to continue to play together. Right, Fuji?"
Eiji followed Oishi's gaze towards Fuji, wondering if anything was wrong. Fuji, however, was smiling back placidly at Oishi, nodding in agreement. Eiji would have said something, but then Fuji tapped him on the arm and offered Eiji his strawberry yoghurt, and Eiji decided it wasn't worth asking right now. Maybe later, if he remembered.
They'd had a great concert, and a wonderful after-party, and now people were slowly getting into their respective buses, vans, or cars. Some people were packing their bags neatly into the backs of some vehicles, but Eiji was doing the opposite, and his bags were open on the ground beside Oishi's car. Fuji's bus was leaving for the train station soon, and Eiji still couldn't find what he was looking for.
Eiji dug through this last bag again, reaching, groaning. He was sure it was in here somewhere. It couldn't be back in the cabin--both he and Fuji had checked carefully, so it had to be in this bag. His mom had told him to use the pockets of his bag to organize his stuff properly, but had he listened? No, and now he was paying for it, wasn't he? Still loudly bemoaning his hurried state, Eiji reached further in one desperate swipe along the bottom of his bag, and then he felt his fingertip brush against that plastic case he had been looking for.
Triumphantly, he fished it out, and then left his things scattered about in the middle of the parking lot, apologizing to Oishi as he ran past him to the bus. "Fuji! Hoi, Fuji!" Eiji shouted loudly, and Fuji's head popped out from the window of the bus. "This, this is the CD! Catch!"
It was a very short distance from Eiji's height to where Fuji was looking out the window, so Fuji was able to stick his hand out and catch the CD. Eiji grinned. "That's Oishi and me. You can't forget me, okay? You have to listen to it every day, and write and call and tell me how your latest concerts go. Promise, Fuji?"
Fuji nodded, smiling, and then his head disappeared. Eiji gaped, wondering why Fuji had been in such a hurry to get away from Eiji. The bus wasn't even leaving yet--though alright, it was certainly ready to leave, with that spluttering engine revving up. Then Fuji popped up again, and Eiji caught the item in his hands reflexively.
"The Honda Nationa-- hey, that's me," Eiji said, looking up from the case with a puzzled expression. The concert had been a while ago, and just where and when had Fuji gotten this CD ...?
Fuji beamed beatifically at Eiji. "I don't need that anymore. Visit me soon, okay, Eiji?"
It took a moment to understand what Fuji meant, but then Eiji grinned, nodded, and waved wildly as the bus drove away.
As always, comments/critiques welcome!
Fandoms: Prince of Tennis / Nodame Cantabile
Characters: Fuji/Eiji, Oishi (mentions of Chiaki, Mine, Nodame, Stresemann)
Rating/Warnings: light PG / Crossover AU
Wordcount: 4200+ words
Summary: Eiji meets Fuji at the Nina Lutz Music Festival in Nagano.
Spoilers: Very light not-really-spoilers for Nodame Cantabile (manga vol 4 ch 22-23 / anime ep 9). No real spoilers for Prince of Tennis.
Author's Notes: Written for tatematsu_norio for pot_exchange. First posted here on April 30, 2007.
Beethoven is rumored to have had a difficult personality, so Eiji used the comparison to illustrate how difficult it was to live in the same cabin as Tezuka.
Nagano was hot in the summer. Eiji wished he hadn't decided to wear that all-black satin dress shirt for the concert. It looked great under the spotlights, and the dull sheen of the material certainly brought out the red in his hair, but it was also sticky and cloying if one spent more than five minutes outside in the warm evening air.
As he had been outside for seven minutes now, it wasn't really any wonder that Eiji was tempted to unbutton the shirt and leave it open to his waistband, ignoring all conventions of decency. He didn't, but he wanted to. His violin case felt heavy in his left hand, and the handle slippery-damp. Eiji sighed, feeling as if he would wilt. Oh, for a t-shirt and jeans again! At least the cabin wasn't that much further away. He could shower, if his roommate wasn't already--
--oh, right, Eiji remembered, perking a little. He hadn't seen his roommate yet. Would it be someone interesting? Someone nice? Whoever it was, Eiji hoped it wasn't someone boring like last year. Last year, he had been assigned to the same cabin as someone called Tezuka Kunimitsu from the Kyuushuu Musical Academy. Tezuka had been anti-conversational, boring, and he frowned all the time he was in the cabin. An incredible cellist, yes, but the man's acerbic personality clashed horribly with Eiji's boisterousness. It felt like Beethoven had moved in with him, Eiji had said to Oishi once. He'd been pleasantly gratified when Oishi had choked with scandalized laughter and then told Eiji off. Eiji had ended up avoiding the cabin unless he had to go back to sleep or change.
Oh well. If this year was just as bad, maybe Eiji could ask Oishi to let him crash or even swap roommates. You couldn't request roommates, but people from the same school tended to be put together. Last year there had been three from the Nagano School of Music, though, and Eiji had been the unlucky odd one out. Something about spending too much time with Oishi anyway. Silly teachers. Of course you spent time with the accompanists, especially when they were as talented as Oishi. How else could they perform together so brilliantly? Eiji was good on the violin, but Oishi made Eiji sound like he was really good.
The cabin was just down the road now. The curtains were drawn, but there seemed to be lights on inside it. Eiji smiled, despite his misgivings. It was always better to smile when you were going to meet someone. The expression on your face affected your mood just like it affected your performance. Oishi had told Eiji that once, and Eiji had never forgotten it. He always smiled on stage.
There was definitely someone inside the cabin; Eiji could hear a flute, melodic and graceful. He paused outside, listening to the soft strains of the music as it lilted lightly and danced about him, tantalizing him with small flourishes. It took him a moment to realize it was an impromptu variation on the Overture to The Magic Flute, and Eiji began nodding his head to the violin that had began to accompany it in his mind. The music was graceful and unpredictable, though thankfully, it stayed true to the underlying chord structure.
Hmm, flutists were generally nice ... weren't they? Eiji hadn't met any stuck-up ones yet, at any rate. And they were less likely to clash with a violinist. Different instrument family and all that, after all. "Okay," Eiji told himself. "Just go in there and smile, and greet them like you'd greet anyone! At the least, as long as we get along, no one has to be best friends, nya." With that, Eiji knocked once, and opened the door of his cabin.
The flutist stopped and turned, then gave Eiji a welcoming look as he lowered his flute. "Hello," the young man said. "You must be my roommate."
Eiji smiled back. "Kikumaru Eiji, but call me Eiji," he said. "That was The Magic Flute, wasn't it? An impromptu? A lesser-known variation or invention?"
"Fuji Shuusuke. It's actually an improvisation," Fuji said, looking pleased. "Would you like to hear more?"
"Please," Eiji said, grinning as he set his burden down. "Can I join in?"
The other man eyed Eiji's violin case and beamed. "You're the violinist from today's concert. I enjoyed your performance greatly. It would be an honor."
The next morning, Eiji managed to beat his alarm clock, but only by about five seconds. Fuji, who really didn't look to Eiji like he was from a small and hippie-sounding conservatory in Chiba, stirred, murmuring a soft "Good morning", but made no move to wake up. That was fine with Eiji, who happily hopped into the bathroom.
When Eiji finally emerged, Fuji was up. Actually, Fuji was sitting on his bed and stretching languidly, but any semi-upright position was up in Eiji's book. Eiji was practically bouncing with excitement as he buttoned his shirt. A master class with Kiyo Buskovich! "What time is your flute master class?" he asked Fuji's reflection in the mirror.
Fuji looked at the clock on the table, and stood in a fluid motion. "In thirty minutes," he said. "Don't wait for me, okay?"
"See you later, then," Eiji said, grinning as he waved Fuji into the bathroom. "Don't be late!"
"Fuji!" Eiji looked past Oishi and grinned, waving as he spotted a familiar face. Maybe Oishi would like Fuji. Then they could play in trios together some time. Eiji patted the table beside him, motioning Fuji over even as he turned to address Oishi again. "Sorry, Oishi, I just need to introduce you guys, and then we can continue the story, okay? This is my roommate, Fuji. He's from the Chiba Contemporary Conservatory. Fuji, this is Oishi. He's the best accompanist in the world. We're the Golden Pair--we won the National Honda Music Competition all because Oishi made us sound so good!"
Opposite Eiji, Oishi smiled sheepishly. "Eiji's very kind," he said, and then extended a hand to Fuji, who shook it with a friendly air. "Really, we worked hard together. It was very gratifying to have our hard work rewarded."
Already finished with the introductions, Eiji turned back to Oishi. "And? How was the class after that? How did it go? Did she come back and say she was sorry?"
Oishi shook his head solemnly. "Aa-- Well, we continued to play. She didn't come back, but if Nina Lutz had shouted at me like that I wouldn't be able to show my face in front of the class either. Maybe she'll be back this afternoon? There are some really amazing pianists here. I look forward to hearing the pieces they'll be performing at the end of the festival. Speaking of which," Oishi looked at Fuji, "What do you play?"
"Flute," Fuji said simply.
"Fuji's a great player! We did some improv last night--you should have heard us, Oishi, it was great--and I'm so tired from staying up late. I'm glad no one came to tell us to stop, though. Could you hear us from your cabin, Oishi? Oh, and why don't you open your eyes a bit more, Fuji?" Eiji said curiously. "Are the lights too bright?"
"Eiji!" Oishi said, sounding like he was trying not to laugh. Oishi was always telling Eiji not to say things like that, but really, Oishi was too polite and reserved sometimes. These were important questions!
"It's alright," Fuji said, smiling now at Oishi, who now looked obviously relieved that Eiji hadn't offended this year's roommate yet. "Kikumaru-san's very refreshing."
"I told you, call me Eiji," Eiji said, interrupting with a wagging finger. "Kikumaru-san is my mother or my father, and it gives me all kinds of creepy feelings to be called that. Just Eiji, okay?"
"Please excuse Eiji's manners," Oishi said, but it was a kindly and indulgent expression. "He doesn't mean anything by it. Just take them as you remember them. If it matters, he'll ask again."
"Hoi, Oishi, you worry too much. Fuji knows it's alright," Eiji grinned, shrugging as if he wasn't at all embarrassed. Then his eyes brightened as they landed on something Eiji loved very much. "Ne, Fuji, are you going to eat that strawberry pudding?"
"Eiji! At least give him a chance to eat his lunch first!" Oishi admonished, sounding absolutely scandalized. Fuji laughed.
"Noda-san wasn't at the pianists' rehearsal today," Oishi said when Eiji asked him at lunch the next day. "And no, Eiji, I don't know where she is."
"You seem very interested," Fuji said. "Why is that?"
Eiji shrugged, somewhat put-out. "I just think it's a waste," he said, landing none-too-gently on the bench beside Fuji, the tray clattering lightly. "We auditioned for this festival, and we practiced a lot, didn't we, Oishi?" Not bothering to wait for his friend's nod, Eiji continued, arms gesturing dramatically. "Listen to them! Those three--including Noda-san--they got here without having to audition. That means they're supposed to be talented, doesn't it? Why don't they appreciate that talent some more and work harder? Hoi, it irritates me."
"Eiji, really," Oishi said, motioning Eiji to sit again, and mouthing apologetically at Fuji. "Sorry, Fuji-san."
"I don't mind," Fuji said with a soft chuckle. "Eiji's interesting."
"See, Oishi?" Eiji said, grinning. "Fuji's so much better than Tezuka-san was. Best roommate ever! Well, not that I'm saying you wouldn't be cool, but--"
Fuji chuckled as Eiji broke off mid-sentence and began to stammer an apology. Oishi was laughing now, and shaking his head. "It's okay," Oishi said, still grinning. "I'm used to you now, Eiji. I know what you mean."
"Hee," Eiji said, and he bounced up from his seat to throw himself on Oishi's back. "Golden Pair, that's us! Oishi knows me so well, don't you, Oishi?"
Fuji looked thoughtful as they laughed easily.
"I wonder who he is," Fuji said out of the blue.
"Who who is?" Eiji said, pulling the t-shirt down over his head before he turned towards Fuji with a quizzical look. That was a strange way to start a conversation, wasn't it?
"Our conductor's apprentice," Fuji said, looking thoughtful as he gently polished his flute.
"Oho," Eiji said, turning to give Fuji a grin. "Very interested in him, are you?" Eiji began, ready to tease Fuji. Fuji was interested in the student conductor, who was, admittedly, the type of guy that was popular with girls and with certain types of guys. Eiji hadn't meant to notice, but it was really obvious the festival orchestra's openly-effiminate percussionist Masumi had been looking at that Chiaki-san all day, and not just to catch musical cues. "Isn't the timpanist from the same school always look--"
He trailed off as a thought struck him. Wait. If Fuji was interested in the hot assistant conductor, that meant Fuji was gay and interested in guys. Eiji was a guy and Eiji was in the same room as Fuji. Oh, heck, he'd been pulling his shirt off and on in front of Fuji, and running around in a towel! Regular guys didn't care, but Fuji probably thought he had horrible abs, and really, Eiji should have been exercising more instead of spending so much time with his violin! Fuji probably thought all Eiji had to wear was that horrible yucky t--
"There's no need to look so horrified. I don't bite," Eiji heard Fuji say, and Eiji realized he'd been staring at the mirror, his reflected face in Fuji's line of sight. Though Fuji was currently looking away from the mirror, instead focused on the flute in his hands, still polishing as if nothing had happened.
Eiji backpedalled and turned, waving frantically. "I-- That is, it-- You-- ... er, I'm sorry!"
"For what?" Fuji asked, looking up with a genuinely quizzical look in his eyes.
"I'm sorry I haven't been exercising and I have horrible clothes and I was just walking around the cabin in the ugliest things, because I'm sure you like looking at cute guys and just because I don't swing that way doesn't mean I shouldn't be considerate, and I-- what, Fuji?" Eiji said, breaking off in bewilderment as Fuji started laughing. Fuji's hand was over his mouth, and his eyes were shut, but his shoulders shook, and muffled noises emerged from behind the hand that were most definitely noises of mirth.
With a huff, Eiji crossed his arms. "What's so funny?" he demanded. How dare Fuji laugh when Eiji had been feeling bad over being inconsiderate of Fuji? See if Eiji ever thought of Fuji again!
Fuji's shoulders shook again, and then Fuji gasped desperately from behind his hand. "I'm sorry, Eiji," Fuji said, gulping for air, and then hiding his mouth again as he shook once more in amusement. "I-- Eiji-- It's just-- You're so cute!"
Eiji's mouth fell open and he stared at Fuji, who continued to giggle, though it was slowly subsiding. Then Eiji realized the corner of his mouth was twitching, too. Fuji, calming down, relaxed slightly; Eiji could tell, those shoulders lowered just a little bit. So Eiji grinned, and winked, flashing Fuji a 'V'.
From the next cabin a violin began, and both of them listened to it before recognizing the piece. Eiji winced, and Fuji laughed.
"We can't lose to them, can we?" Fuji said, putting his flute's polishing cloth aside as he gave Eiji a tilt of his head.
"Hehe," Eiji said, giving Fuji a conspiring wink. "Let me grab my bow."
"I'm so tired," Eiji said, flopping with a loud whoosing thump and a creak of protest from the bed, landing ungracefully in a sprawled-out tangle of red hair and outstretched limbs, legs dangling over the edge of the mattress. "Hoi, Fuji, don't wake me for dinner."
"What if they serve strawberry yoghurt?"
"Oh," Eiji said, surprised, jumping up again. "Are they really? Come on, Fuji, we have to get to the dining hall!"
Fuji shook his head and chuckled, setting his flute case down lightly on his table. "Sorry, Eiji, I was only teasing you. But maybe they have some strawberry milk. Would you like some from the vending machine on the way?"
Eiji pouted, sitting down and shaking his head. "No," he said. With a sigh, he leaned back down on the bed again. In his mind, he could still hear the orchestra, and he hummed the violin part lazily to the ensemble in his head. He'd missed this--this orchestral gathering, everyone working completely in sync, attuned to the baton of a true master. "Stresemann-sensei's a great conductor, isn't he?"
"Mmm," Fuji responded, nodding agreeably in the corner. "Though I missed Chiaki-kun," he said.
Eiji wondered if Fuji was already cleaning his flute. Eiji needed to put a little more rosin on his bow, too, but he could do that before bed. They'd probably do a bit of improv tonight anyway; at least, Eiji hoped they would.
"Ne, Fuji," Eiji said.
"Yes, Eiji?"
"You pay a lot of attention to Chiaki-san," Eiji said. "Do you like him that much?" It wasn't very nice of Fuji to ignore the master conductor in favor of the apprentice. Not that anyone could tell, really, because Fuji looked the same on the outside, but Eiji knew. He'd been living with Fuji less than a week, but somehow you could tell.
"Why do you ask?" Fuji replied. Eiji opened his eyes. Fuji was polishing his flute, just like Eiji thought he would be.
"You're polishing your flute like I thought you would," Eiji said, completely off-topic. "I dunno. I was just wondering. You keep looking for him when you should be looking at Stresemann-sensei."
Fuji chuckled and his grin stretched wider, but he was still paying attention to his flute. Eiji frowned. "What's so funny, Fuji?"
"Oh, nothing special," Fuji said, and he looked up, smiling sweetly at Eiji. "You should pay more attention to the maestro yourself, shouldn't you, Eiji?"
"I would if you didn't worry me so much," Eiji retorted, sticking his tongue out at Fuji. Stupid Fuji, not even appreciating a friend's concern. With a huff, Eiji closed his eyes so that he wouldn't be glaring up at the ceiling. It wasn't an interesting ceiling anyway. An interesting ceiling would be one with flourescent stars and maybe some cool posters. Maybe a poster of Chocolate.
"Thank you for worrying," Fuji said after a moment's silence.
When Eiji looked at Fuji, he was met with a somewhat hesitant expression. Eiji sighed and rolled his eyes theatrically. "Hoi, you need to worry about yourself more," Eiji said. "The selections for the final concert soloists are tomorrow. I hope you're ready! I'm not going to take it easy on you!"
"But Eiji, we don't play the same instrument," Fuji said with an amused chuckle.
"Whatever," Eiji said, shrugging. "I'm still going to play my best! So you'd better do so too, okay, Fuji?"
"Mmm," Fuji said, and Eiji wondered whether Fuji cared whether or not he played in the concert. That was weird. How could you audition to come here and then not want to play in the final concert to see how well you improved? Didn't Fuji care enough to want to come here in the first place? Why else was Fuji here?
"It's not just 'mmm', Fuji," Eiji said, and he glared at the other, arms crossed. "You came here for a reason, didn't you? Well, I came here to learn and to get better. I bet you did, too! Stop acting cool like that Chiaki guy. He's a conductor and I bet he's stuck-up because he's got Stresemann for a teacher. You're a nice guy, Fuji, and I don't think you're stuck-up, so why don't you care a bit more? You're talented, and you should use it! Just doing improv together is great, but I want to play with you at your best in a concert! You and me, blowing them away! If all you're going to say is 'mmm' then how will I ever get to do that?"
Fuji tilted his head to the side and looked at Eiji with those closed eyes. Eiji suspected they were really thin and Fuji could see through them, and that was why Fuji never opened his eyes. He crossed his arms, returning that stare he just knew Fuji was giving him. Through closed eyelids, sure, but he bet it was a stare anyway. Well, Eiji could stare right back.
Fuji said, "Do you really want to play with me, Eiji?"
"Yes," Eiji said, waving his hands exasperatedly. "I don't say things I don't mean. Weren't you listening to me yesterday after our improv?"
"I didn't think you meant that seriously," Fuji said.
Eiji gaped, and then shook his head. Fuji was just strange sometimes. "Why would you think so? I mean what I say! Geez, Fuji. Anyway, now you know, so can we finally work on a piece together? Oishi picked out a great duet for two violins, and he said you were good enough to do a violin part in flute. I agree, nya. Here, I don't know if you know this piece, but I'll help you and teach you if there's anything you need to know, okay?"
"Alright, Eiji," Fuji said, sounding considerably cheered. That, or very amused. Eiji wasn't sure which one it was yet, because those two sounds were really close where Fuji was concerned.
Eiji sighed and put his violin case carefully away under his bed where it was safest. His stomach growled a little, and Eiji made a face. It was all Fuji's fault, talking about strawberry milk and yoghurt and cupcakes and other yummy things. He wanted dinner to be ready already. "Let's practice after dinner. Now hurry up," Eiji said. "I want strawberry milk."
"Alright, Eiji," Fuji said, putting away his flute and getting some change for the vending machine.
The moment his last master class finished, Eiji rushed to the dining hall, where he found the two people he was looking for.
"Oishi!" Eiji said happily, glomping him. "And Fuji," Eiji said, waving, as Oishi laughed. Fuji patted the seat beside him and motioned. Eiji squeezed in beside Fuji, grinning happily. "Guess what? Buskovich-sensei said I was a real showman! He said if he knew of anyone looking for a performer that could draw the crowds, he'd look me up, nya!"
"That's great, Eiji," Oishi said warmly, and Fuji echoed him. Eiji was so happy he could burst, and he nudged Fuji. Oishi said, "What about your verdict, Fuji-san?"
"Oh, it was alright. Every year they tell me I'm too distracted," Fuji said, shaking his head carelessly with a soft smile. "This year they said I was less so. I'm sure that's an improvement."
"Bet you were thinking of Chiaki-san," Eiji said, making a face at Fuji. Stupid Fuji, always thinking of Chiaki. It was rude to Fuji's roommate, couldn't Fuji see that? Eiji saw a tiny shift in Fuji's espression, but he ignored it, turning to Oishi, who was now looking at Fuji and then back at Eiji with his mouth open. "So what did Nina Lutz-- Oishi, pay attention," Eiji said, waving his hand in front of Oishi, who turned red and apologized.
"I'm sorry, Eiji, I wasn't paying attention. Could you say that again?"
"I asked you what Nina Lutz said," Eiji said, giving Oishi a look. Oishi needed to share exactly what he was thinking. So what if Fuji had been thinking about Chiaki-san? Many great musicians were gay. The timpanist in their orchestra certainly was, and very obviously so, too. Eiji didn't think Oishi was the conservative type, but if Oishi was going to avoid Fuji because Fuji was gay, then Eiji would just have to yell at Oishi later and change his mind. Oishi wasn't that kind though. Eiji was sure of that.
Oishi was spacing out and looking flushed again. Eiji waved his hand before Oishi's eyes, and finally caught his friend's attention. Really, what was wrong with Oishi? "Are you okay, Oishi?"
"Oh, I'm fine," Oishi said, hurriedly.
Eiji gave him a considering look, but then changed the subject. "So? What did she say about your piano?"
"Who? Oh, that," Oishi said, looking relieved to be back on familiar territory. "She said I was good, but I think she didn't notice me very much. It's okay--I wasn't what she was looking for in a soloist, but I like being accompaniment to the really great performers."
"Hee," Eiji said, and he grinned. "Oishi, I'm sorry, it's selfish of me to say this, but I'm glad she isn't taking you away, nya. I'd cry if she split the Golden Pair!"
"Me too, Eiji," Oishi said, smiling warmly.
Then Oishi's eyes darted to the left, and he seemed startled and a little frightened as he shook his head hurriedly. "O--Of course, I wouldn't mind at all if you played with others, Eiji! I'm just happy we'll be able to continue to play together. Right, Fuji?"
Eiji followed Oishi's gaze towards Fuji, wondering if anything was wrong. Fuji, however, was smiling back placidly at Oishi, nodding in agreement. Eiji would have said something, but then Fuji tapped him on the arm and offered Eiji his strawberry yoghurt, and Eiji decided it wasn't worth asking right now. Maybe later, if he remembered.
They'd had a great concert, and a wonderful after-party, and now people were slowly getting into their respective buses, vans, or cars. Some people were packing their bags neatly into the backs of some vehicles, but Eiji was doing the opposite, and his bags were open on the ground beside Oishi's car. Fuji's bus was leaving for the train station soon, and Eiji still couldn't find what he was looking for.
Eiji dug through this last bag again, reaching, groaning. He was sure it was in here somewhere. It couldn't be back in the cabin--both he and Fuji had checked carefully, so it had to be in this bag. His mom had told him to use the pockets of his bag to organize his stuff properly, but had he listened? No, and now he was paying for it, wasn't he? Still loudly bemoaning his hurried state, Eiji reached further in one desperate swipe along the bottom of his bag, and then he felt his fingertip brush against that plastic case he had been looking for.
Triumphantly, he fished it out, and then left his things scattered about in the middle of the parking lot, apologizing to Oishi as he ran past him to the bus. "Fuji! Hoi, Fuji!" Eiji shouted loudly, and Fuji's head popped out from the window of the bus. "This, this is the CD! Catch!"
It was a very short distance from Eiji's height to where Fuji was looking out the window, so Fuji was able to stick his hand out and catch the CD. Eiji grinned. "That's Oishi and me. You can't forget me, okay? You have to listen to it every day, and write and call and tell me how your latest concerts go. Promise, Fuji?"
Fuji nodded, smiling, and then his head disappeared. Eiji gaped, wondering why Fuji had been in such a hurry to get away from Eiji. The bus wasn't even leaving yet--though alright, it was certainly ready to leave, with that spluttering engine revving up. Then Fuji popped up again, and Eiji caught the item in his hands reflexively.
"The Honda Nationa-- hey, that's me," Eiji said, looking up from the case with a puzzled expression. The concert had been a while ago, and just where and when had Fuji gotten this CD ...?
Fuji beamed beatifically at Eiji. "I don't need that anymore. Visit me soon, okay, Eiji?"
It took a moment to understand what Fuji meant, but then Eiji grinned, nodded, and waved wildly as the bus drove away.
As always, comments/critiques welcome!