La Corda d’Oro. Ryoutarou/Len. Table 5: Light. Kindness.
Title: Beautiful
Author: cuethe_pulse
Fandom: La Corda d’Oro
Pairing: Ryoutarou/Len
Genre: Slash
Table: Table 5-Light
Prompt: Kindness
Rating: PG
Word Count: 834
Summary: Pianissimo side-story; Ryoutarou catches Len in a moment of sweetness.
Disclaimer: La Corda d’Oro and its characters do not belong to me.
“Well, I suppose it’s no surprise that my favorite is a Chopin piece.”
Len paused his shelving and glanced over at the old man as he spoke to a couple of curious customers.
Rubbing his chin in a thoughtful manner, he nodded and continued, “Impromptu No. 3, in G flat major. Yes. It might be strange to have an impromptu as a favorite piece, but there you have it. You see, I had a sweetheart in my youthful days. A European girl studying abroad. And she didn’t have a musical bone in her body, let me tell you!” He paused to laugh and the customers chuckled obligingly. “No, no. But she loved to dance. Ballroom-she was a class act. And I didn’t know much about those fancy dances, but she taught me what I could learn. And that Chopin impromptu was the first piece we danced to. We played it over and over and danced so much our feet were sore the next day.” He laughed again, but the sound turned into something much more bittersweet as his laughter turned to a sigh. “Yes. From that night on, that piece was…very precious to me.”
Len returned to his shelving, frowning just slightly. Their story obviously didn’t have the happiest of endings. He briefly wondered if there’d be a day when he would speak of his romance with Ryoutarou as a fling of his youth, but he hastily pushed that thought aside. He didn’t want to spend his time dwelling on a potentially depressing topic.
But it seemed that the only thing the old man could do was dwell on it. The remainder of the day was filled with sighing and slow walking and wistful staring into space. Len couldn’t stand it.
“All right.” The open sign was turned off and the storeowner turned to offer Len a small, sad smile. “That’s all for the day. You can-”
“Which one was it, again?”
“Sorry?”
Len thumbed impatiently through Chopin sheet music until he found the impromptus. “No. 3, right?”
“What?”
“Come on.” Len took him by the arm and pulled him to the back of the store where the piano stood. “Sit over there,” he said, gesturing to an empty chair and taking his own seat on the piano bench.
“Len,” he protested only faintly, “you don’t have to-”
“Your moping was rather irritating.” And with that, he set up the sheet music and began to play.
[-]
Ryoutarou had never heard Len play the piano. He knew that he could play the piano; everyone who enrolled in the Seisou music department could. It was a requirement. But he’d never had the chance to actually hear him play. Until now.
He opened the door to the music store and stepped inside, eyes searching for his lover and ears finding the sound of Chopin. He recognized the piece and he knew what it meant; he knew the story about the old man’s French ladylove. …Or was she British? Hell, he couldn’t remember. He didn’t try. That story made him too damn sad.
He quietly made his way toward the back and observed the scene before him. Len’s fingers were just as skillful with the keys as they were with a bow, but he wasn’t used to a piano and it showed. That hardly seemed to matter, though, from what Ryoutarou could see. The old man sat in a chair with watery eyes and a big smile.
He was as silent as he could be, but somehow Len must’ve sensed him. His eyes drifted toward him once, and then he did a double-take, his hands stilling instantly.
“Don’t stop on my account.”
“It’s all right.” The old man stood, his smile widening in a quivery way that was heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. “It’s getting late and you two should go have dinner.” He touched Len’s arm as the violinist stood, and nodded. “Thank you. It was beautiful.”
“It was,” Ryoutarou said, and Len glanced at him before heading briskly for the door.
[-]
After deciding on a restaurant for dinner, they walked in silence until Len muttered, “You didn’t have to agree with him.”
Ryoutarou looked at him, slowing his pace slightly. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” Len crossed his arms, frowning. “I made too many mistakes. It wasn’t perfect.”
Ryoutarou laughed a little and shook his head. “It didn’t have to be, Len. It wasn’t about that.” He reached over and slid an arm around his shoulders, closing some of the space between them. “Your intentions were beautiful, and that made your playing beautiful, too.”
“Whatever,” Len sighed. After a moment, he stopped abruptly and looked at him. “Ryoutarou?”
“Yeah?”
He tried to think of a way to ask for assurance, to ask the other man if he could look into the future and just make sure that years-years-years from now they would still be like this.
“You don’t dance, do you?”
“Not at all.”
“Good.”
Author: cuethe_pulse
Fandom: La Corda d’Oro
Pairing: Ryoutarou/Len
Genre: Slash
Table: Table 5-Light
Prompt: Kindness
Rating: PG
Word Count: 834
Summary: Pianissimo side-story; Ryoutarou catches Len in a moment of sweetness.
Disclaimer: La Corda d’Oro and its characters do not belong to me.
“Well, I suppose it’s no surprise that my favorite is a Chopin piece.”
Len paused his shelving and glanced over at the old man as he spoke to a couple of curious customers.
Rubbing his chin in a thoughtful manner, he nodded and continued, “Impromptu No. 3, in G flat major. Yes. It might be strange to have an impromptu as a favorite piece, but there you have it. You see, I had a sweetheart in my youthful days. A European girl studying abroad. And she didn’t have a musical bone in her body, let me tell you!” He paused to laugh and the customers chuckled obligingly. “No, no. But she loved to dance. Ballroom-she was a class act. And I didn’t know much about those fancy dances, but she taught me what I could learn. And that Chopin impromptu was the first piece we danced to. We played it over and over and danced so much our feet were sore the next day.” He laughed again, but the sound turned into something much more bittersweet as his laughter turned to a sigh. “Yes. From that night on, that piece was…very precious to me.”
Len returned to his shelving, frowning just slightly. Their story obviously didn’t have the happiest of endings. He briefly wondered if there’d be a day when he would speak of his romance with Ryoutarou as a fling of his youth, but he hastily pushed that thought aside. He didn’t want to spend his time dwelling on a potentially depressing topic.
But it seemed that the only thing the old man could do was dwell on it. The remainder of the day was filled with sighing and slow walking and wistful staring into space. Len couldn’t stand it.
“All right.” The open sign was turned off and the storeowner turned to offer Len a small, sad smile. “That’s all for the day. You can-”
“Which one was it, again?”
“Sorry?”
Len thumbed impatiently through Chopin sheet music until he found the impromptus. “No. 3, right?”
“What?”
“Come on.” Len took him by the arm and pulled him to the back of the store where the piano stood. “Sit over there,” he said, gesturing to an empty chair and taking his own seat on the piano bench.
“Len,” he protested only faintly, “you don’t have to-”
“Your moping was rather irritating.” And with that, he set up the sheet music and began to play.
[-]
Ryoutarou had never heard Len play the piano. He knew that he could play the piano; everyone who enrolled in the Seisou music department could. It was a requirement. But he’d never had the chance to actually hear him play. Until now.
He opened the door to the music store and stepped inside, eyes searching for his lover and ears finding the sound of Chopin. He recognized the piece and he knew what it meant; he knew the story about the old man’s French ladylove. …Or was she British? Hell, he couldn’t remember. He didn’t try. That story made him too damn sad.
He quietly made his way toward the back and observed the scene before him. Len’s fingers were just as skillful with the keys as they were with a bow, but he wasn’t used to a piano and it showed. That hardly seemed to matter, though, from what Ryoutarou could see. The old man sat in a chair with watery eyes and a big smile.
He was as silent as he could be, but somehow Len must’ve sensed him. His eyes drifted toward him once, and then he did a double-take, his hands stilling instantly.
“Don’t stop on my account.”
“It’s all right.” The old man stood, his smile widening in a quivery way that was heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. “It’s getting late and you two should go have dinner.” He touched Len’s arm as the violinist stood, and nodded. “Thank you. It was beautiful.”
“It was,” Ryoutarou said, and Len glanced at him before heading briskly for the door.
[-]
After deciding on a restaurant for dinner, they walked in silence until Len muttered, “You didn’t have to agree with him.”
Ryoutarou looked at him, slowing his pace slightly. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” Len crossed his arms, frowning. “I made too many mistakes. It wasn’t perfect.”
Ryoutarou laughed a little and shook his head. “It didn’t have to be, Len. It wasn’t about that.” He reached over and slid an arm around his shoulders, closing some of the space between them. “Your intentions were beautiful, and that made your playing beautiful, too.”
“Whatever,” Len sighed. After a moment, he stopped abruptly and looked at him. “Ryoutarou?”
“Yeah?”
He tried to think of a way to ask for assurance, to ask the other man if he could look into the future and just make sure that years-years-years from now they would still be like this.
“You don’t dance, do you?”
“Not at all.”
“Good.”