Come A-Caroling -- La Corda d'Oro (Ensemble)
Title: Come A-Caroling
Fandom: La Corda d’Oro
Pairings: Kanazawa + Kahoko, Hihara x Kahoko, Nami x Shouko, one-sided Mizue x Ryoutarou, Ryoutarou x Kahoko, Len + Misa Hamai, Kanazawa x Shinobu, Yunoki + Kahoko, Ryoutarou x Len
Rating: PG
Prompt: Christmas songs
Word Count: 1649
Disclaimer: La Corda d’Oro and its characters do not belong to me.
A/N: These are not meant to be related.
~“One seems to hear words of good cheer from everywhere, filling the air” {Carol of the Bells}~
Kahoko finds herself awed by how tangible the so-called “holiday spirit” is, especially at Seisou Academy. It seems as if the moment December 1st arrives, some big switch is turned on and almost everyone, almost everything goes into some sort of Holiday Mode.
People glow. People smile and laugh, whistle and hum. People couple off and prepare romantic dates for Christmas Eve. People love each, help each other. It’s beautiful, but it’s so sudden and so intense that it’s almost frightening.
She comes to school one morning and sees Kanazawa-sensei wearing a red and white Santa Claus cap. She gapes at him, uncertain whether to die of amusement or shock.
“What?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, when he notices her gawking.
“Your, um, hat.”
“Oh.” He shrugs, as if to say, it’s Christmastime; what’re you gonna do? “Well, you know. Ho, ho, ho.”
She has to choose amusement, then, and she laughs-and glows-until her eyes water.
~“On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me two turtledoves…” {12 Days of Christmas}~
It’s only because Nami Amou has dedicated her life to capturing the truth of all things-especially true love and romance-that she manages to snap a picture of the short, sacred, shared moment between violinist and trumpeter.
As Kahoko and Hihara stroll together down the snow-covered sidewalk of the strip mall, noses red and cheeks flushed, Nami’s camera flashes at the exact moment that two gloved hands brushed and one delicate finger curled shyly around a slender but decidedly more manly one.
“And that, my dear,” she whispers gleefully to Shouko Fuyuumi, who’s crouched down and hidden behind the bushes beside her, “is called ‘turtle-doving’.”
She lowers her camera and coos in Shouko’s ear and wishes she’d been fast enough to catch the girl’s pretty blush.
~“I’ll be so blue just thinking about you” {Blue Christmas}~
“Do you think he’ll think about me?”
“Who?” Kahoko stalls, as she and Mizue browse through a rack of winter sweaters.
“Do you have to ask?”
No. Of course she doesn’t. But she doesn’t like it when they get on this topic. Mizue is an almost-friend and she’s fun to shop with and Kahoko just doesn’t have the heart to come out and tell her…
“Maybe he will,” she says and Mizue sighs. “I-I’m sure he will,” she reluctantly amends.
“We used to spend Christmas Eve together.” She looks at the sweaters without really seeing them, her eyes glazed over, and she adds unnecessarily, “When we dated, you know.”
“Yes,” Kahoko struggles to keep her own emotions in check. “I figured.”
“A part of me almost wants to know…who he’ll be spending this Christmas Eve with.”
Kahoko nods absently, then stiffens when she feels Mizue glance at her. An awkward, nervous laugh escapes her and a strained smile stretches across her face. “I have no idea-sorry!”
Kahoko really hates lying and she spends most of Christmas Eve feeling guilty. But what else could do? Her left hand tightens its hold on a warm mug of cocoa; the fingers on her right hand, laced with Ryoutarou’s, are getting that annoying pins and needles sensation, but she’d rather have them fall off than move them right now.
She looks up at Ryoutarou and her chest tightens unpleasantly. He’s looking at the fire blazing before them without really seeing it, his eyes glazed over. She swallows, asks, “What”-who-“are you thinking about?”
He blinks and the glaze is gone when he looks at her, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. “Do you have to ask?”
She lowers her gaze as her heart sinks. “I guess not…”
Ryoutarou’s brow furrows in confusion and he reaches over with his free hand, taking the mug of cocoa from Kahoko and setting it down beside his own on the coffee table. And he hesitates for only a second before his fingers tilt her chin up so her oddly-saddened eyes meet his sincere ones.
“Hey, mopey,” he says. “I’m thinking about you, of course.”
“Oh.” She smiles. Of course. How could she doubt him? She pushes the guilt and other foolishness out of her mind as his arm wraps around her shoulder and pulls her close. She feels a little sorry for Mizue, but, well, he’s chosen to be with her tonight and nothing in the world can make her happier than that.
~“If you want to be happy in a million ways, for the holidays you can’t beat home sweet home” {There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays}~
After a while, Christmases start to run together for Misa Hamai. It’s hard to keep the years straight, hard to remember when she played this and where she played that. One year, she knows, she played at a Christmas benefit concert; she can’t recall if it was to raise money for UNICEF or awareness for Amnesty. And another year, before or after she doesn’t know, she and her husband celebrated the holiday at a tropical beach resort, wearing swimsuits-or maybe just sunhats-and walking together in the sand.
There’s only one Christmas she remembers vividly enough to still picture it when she closes her eyes, to still taste it on the tip of her tongue. Len was nine. It was the first year the nanny didn’t call to tell them that their son had asked if they were coming home. So, of course, they came home, and when they arrived, they found Len in bed with the flu. Misa Hamai spent Christmas holding her sick son, smoothing sweat-dampened hair out of his face and pressing comforting kisses to his flushed cheeks and forehead.
She remembers this Christmas-this shared time between mother and child-fondly, with a smile and a warm swelling of happiness. But she’ll never know that Len, when thinking back on his ninth Christmas, remembers his mother’s arms around him only as a fever-induced hallucination.
~“Yuletide carols being sung by a choir and folks dressed up like Eskimos” {The Christmas Song}~
“I can’t believe you’ve got me out here in this,” Hiroto Kanazawa grumbled-more to himself than to his companion, who didn’t seem to be listening to him. “I can’t feel my nose.”
“It’s still there,” Ousaki Shinobu assured him without looking away from the performing children’s choir. “Don’t they just sound like angels?”
“Angels. Cherubs. Sirens and mermaids. No matter what they sound like, it’s still freezing out here.”
“Aw, you’re bundled up, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m bundled,” he muttered. “Like an Eskimo.”
Ousaki turned to look at him and couldn’t keep from laughing at the sight. Hiroto narrowed his eyes at him, frowning, and wished he could move his arms enough to have a cigarette. He made a feeble attempt, which only resulted in more laughter.
“Oh, baby.” Ousaki’s gloved hands touched his face and he felt just a bit warmer, if only for a moment.
~“Your heart is full of unwashed socks; your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Grinch” {You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch}~
It was kindness that made her do it. Kindness-because she was just that kind of girl. “Have a happy Christmas, Yunoki.”
He stopped, pausing his trek down the empty school corridor, and Kahoko knew she should’ve kept her mouth shut. He looked at her with a fake smile that bordered on being unkind, his eyes glinting. “‘Happy Christmas’? You aren’t one of those, are you?”
She swallowed hard, her hands clenching nervously. “One of those?”
“One of those over-sentimental Christmas saps who thinks that everyone is suddenly sweet and pleasant and in love with each other just because it’s the holiday season.” He tittered cruelly. “As if that means anything.”
Kahoko stared at him, wide-eyed, dislike warring with disbelief. “You-I was just trying to be polite!”
“Please, don’t bother.” He looked over briefly and smirked. “And don’t tell me you bought me a Christmas present.”
Kahoko’s cheeks burned as she thought of the five wrapped boxes beneath her bed. “I didn’t!”
He walked toward her and it took all of her power to remain still as he did, as he got close and leaned in even closer, as his eyes bore into hers, as he whispered, “Liar.”
And then he straightened up and walked away, as if nothing had happened, and it was only kindness that kept her from going straight home and throwing his present away.
~“I love you and you love me and that’s the way it’s got to be” {Merry Christmas (I Don’t Want to Fight Tonight)}
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The hell I don’t! My mother’s a music teacher, remember?”
“Those credentials hardly compare to mine.”
“You arrogant son of a-argh!” Ryoutarou stopped walking, throwing his hands up in exasperation, despite the winter breeze that assaulted his exposed skin. “I’m so sick of your attitude!”
Len regarded him coolly, arms crossed over his chest. “Then why bother dragging me out for a walk in the middle of the night?”
“Because it’s…” Ryoutarou paused to glance down at his watch, “two minutes until Christmas and we’re supposed to be-”
“Supposed to be what?”
Ryoutarou sighed, rubbing a bit nervously at the back of his neck. “Oh, nevermind.” He took a step closer. “Look, can we just…stop the fighting? Just for a little while?”
Len was quiet for a moment, suddenly more interested in watching the snowflakes fall. He shrugged, turned around, and slowly continued walking. “Whatever. Walk me home. We can…be whatever we’re supposed to be there.”
Ryoutarou followed, picking up the pace with a sudden burst of courage and catching Len off guard with a brief embrace from behind and an even briefer kiss to the cheek.
And Len smiled, just faintly, just because, well, it was Christmas.
Fandom: La Corda d’Oro
Pairings: Kanazawa + Kahoko, Hihara x Kahoko, Nami x Shouko, one-sided Mizue x Ryoutarou, Ryoutarou x Kahoko, Len + Misa Hamai, Kanazawa x Shinobu, Yunoki + Kahoko, Ryoutarou x Len
Rating: PG
Prompt: Christmas songs
Word Count: 1649
Disclaimer: La Corda d’Oro and its characters do not belong to me.
A/N: These are not meant to be related.
~“One seems to hear words of good cheer from everywhere, filling the air” {Carol of the Bells}~
Kahoko finds herself awed by how tangible the so-called “holiday spirit” is, especially at Seisou Academy. It seems as if the moment December 1st arrives, some big switch is turned on and almost everyone, almost everything goes into some sort of Holiday Mode.
People glow. People smile and laugh, whistle and hum. People couple off and prepare romantic dates for Christmas Eve. People love each, help each other. It’s beautiful, but it’s so sudden and so intense that it’s almost frightening.
She comes to school one morning and sees Kanazawa-sensei wearing a red and white Santa Claus cap. She gapes at him, uncertain whether to die of amusement or shock.
“What?” He asks, raising an eyebrow, when he notices her gawking.
“Your, um, hat.”
“Oh.” He shrugs, as if to say, it’s Christmastime; what’re you gonna do? “Well, you know. Ho, ho, ho.”
She has to choose amusement, then, and she laughs-and glows-until her eyes water.
~“On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me two turtledoves…” {12 Days of Christmas}~
It’s only because Nami Amou has dedicated her life to capturing the truth of all things-especially true love and romance-that she manages to snap a picture of the short, sacred, shared moment between violinist and trumpeter.
As Kahoko and Hihara stroll together down the snow-covered sidewalk of the strip mall, noses red and cheeks flushed, Nami’s camera flashes at the exact moment that two gloved hands brushed and one delicate finger curled shyly around a slender but decidedly more manly one.
“And that, my dear,” she whispers gleefully to Shouko Fuyuumi, who’s crouched down and hidden behind the bushes beside her, “is called ‘turtle-doving’.”
She lowers her camera and coos in Shouko’s ear and wishes she’d been fast enough to catch the girl’s pretty blush.
~“I’ll be so blue just thinking about you” {Blue Christmas}~
“Do you think he’ll think about me?”
“Who?” Kahoko stalls, as she and Mizue browse through a rack of winter sweaters.
“Do you have to ask?”
No. Of course she doesn’t. But she doesn’t like it when they get on this topic. Mizue is an almost-friend and she’s fun to shop with and Kahoko just doesn’t have the heart to come out and tell her…
“Maybe he will,” she says and Mizue sighs. “I-I’m sure he will,” she reluctantly amends.
“We used to spend Christmas Eve together.” She looks at the sweaters without really seeing them, her eyes glazed over, and she adds unnecessarily, “When we dated, you know.”
“Yes,” Kahoko struggles to keep her own emotions in check. “I figured.”
“A part of me almost wants to know…who he’ll be spending this Christmas Eve with.”
Kahoko nods absently, then stiffens when she feels Mizue glance at her. An awkward, nervous laugh escapes her and a strained smile stretches across her face. “I have no idea-sorry!”
Kahoko really hates lying and she spends most of Christmas Eve feeling guilty. But what else could do? Her left hand tightens its hold on a warm mug of cocoa; the fingers on her right hand, laced with Ryoutarou’s, are getting that annoying pins and needles sensation, but she’d rather have them fall off than move them right now.
She looks up at Ryoutarou and her chest tightens unpleasantly. He’s looking at the fire blazing before them without really seeing it, his eyes glazed over. She swallows, asks, “What”-who-“are you thinking about?”
He blinks and the glaze is gone when he looks at her, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. “Do you have to ask?”
She lowers her gaze as her heart sinks. “I guess not…”
Ryoutarou’s brow furrows in confusion and he reaches over with his free hand, taking the mug of cocoa from Kahoko and setting it down beside his own on the coffee table. And he hesitates for only a second before his fingers tilt her chin up so her oddly-saddened eyes meet his sincere ones.
“Hey, mopey,” he says. “I’m thinking about you, of course.”
“Oh.” She smiles. Of course. How could she doubt him? She pushes the guilt and other foolishness out of her mind as his arm wraps around her shoulder and pulls her close. She feels a little sorry for Mizue, but, well, he’s chosen to be with her tonight and nothing in the world can make her happier than that.
~“If you want to be happy in a million ways, for the holidays you can’t beat home sweet home” {There’s No Place Like Home for the Holidays}~
After a while, Christmases start to run together for Misa Hamai. It’s hard to keep the years straight, hard to remember when she played this and where she played that. One year, she knows, she played at a Christmas benefit concert; she can’t recall if it was to raise money for UNICEF or awareness for Amnesty. And another year, before or after she doesn’t know, she and her husband celebrated the holiday at a tropical beach resort, wearing swimsuits-or maybe just sunhats-and walking together in the sand.
There’s only one Christmas she remembers vividly enough to still picture it when she closes her eyes, to still taste it on the tip of her tongue. Len was nine. It was the first year the nanny didn’t call to tell them that their son had asked if they were coming home. So, of course, they came home, and when they arrived, they found Len in bed with the flu. Misa Hamai spent Christmas holding her sick son, smoothing sweat-dampened hair out of his face and pressing comforting kisses to his flushed cheeks and forehead.
She remembers this Christmas-this shared time between mother and child-fondly, with a smile and a warm swelling of happiness. But she’ll never know that Len, when thinking back on his ninth Christmas, remembers his mother’s arms around him only as a fever-induced hallucination.
~“Yuletide carols being sung by a choir and folks dressed up like Eskimos” {The Christmas Song}~
“I can’t believe you’ve got me out here in this,” Hiroto Kanazawa grumbled-more to himself than to his companion, who didn’t seem to be listening to him. “I can’t feel my nose.”
“It’s still there,” Ousaki Shinobu assured him without looking away from the performing children’s choir. “Don’t they just sound like angels?”
“Angels. Cherubs. Sirens and mermaids. No matter what they sound like, it’s still freezing out here.”
“Aw, you’re bundled up, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m bundled,” he muttered. “Like an Eskimo.”
Ousaki turned to look at him and couldn’t keep from laughing at the sight. Hiroto narrowed his eyes at him, frowning, and wished he could move his arms enough to have a cigarette. He made a feeble attempt, which only resulted in more laughter.
“Oh, baby.” Ousaki’s gloved hands touched his face and he felt just a bit warmer, if only for a moment.
~“Your heart is full of unwashed socks; your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Grinch” {You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch}~
It was kindness that made her do it. Kindness-because she was just that kind of girl. “Have a happy Christmas, Yunoki.”
He stopped, pausing his trek down the empty school corridor, and Kahoko knew she should’ve kept her mouth shut. He looked at her with a fake smile that bordered on being unkind, his eyes glinting. “‘Happy Christmas’? You aren’t one of those, are you?”
She swallowed hard, her hands clenching nervously. “One of those?”
“One of those over-sentimental Christmas saps who thinks that everyone is suddenly sweet and pleasant and in love with each other just because it’s the holiday season.” He tittered cruelly. “As if that means anything.”
Kahoko stared at him, wide-eyed, dislike warring with disbelief. “You-I was just trying to be polite!”
“Please, don’t bother.” He looked over briefly and smirked. “And don’t tell me you bought me a Christmas present.”
Kahoko’s cheeks burned as she thought of the five wrapped boxes beneath her bed. “I didn’t!”
He walked toward her and it took all of her power to remain still as he did, as he got close and leaned in even closer, as his eyes bore into hers, as he whispered, “Liar.”
And then he straightened up and walked away, as if nothing had happened, and it was only kindness that kept her from going straight home and throwing his present away.
~“I love you and you love me and that’s the way it’s got to be” {Merry Christmas (I Don’t Want to Fight Tonight)}
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The hell I don’t! My mother’s a music teacher, remember?”
“Those credentials hardly compare to mine.”
“You arrogant son of a-argh!” Ryoutarou stopped walking, throwing his hands up in exasperation, despite the winter breeze that assaulted his exposed skin. “I’m so sick of your attitude!”
Len regarded him coolly, arms crossed over his chest. “Then why bother dragging me out for a walk in the middle of the night?”
“Because it’s…” Ryoutarou paused to glance down at his watch, “two minutes until Christmas and we’re supposed to be-”
“Supposed to be what?”
Ryoutarou sighed, rubbing a bit nervously at the back of his neck. “Oh, nevermind.” He took a step closer. “Look, can we just…stop the fighting? Just for a little while?”
Len was quiet for a moment, suddenly more interested in watching the snowflakes fall. He shrugged, turned around, and slowly continued walking. “Whatever. Walk me home. We can…be whatever we’re supposed to be there.”
Ryoutarou followed, picking up the pace with a sudden burst of courage and catching Len off guard with a brief embrace from behind and an even briefer kiss to the cheek.
And Len smiled, just faintly, just because, well, it was Christmas.