fic: nodame cantabile, chiaki/nodame, pg.
Another birthday ficlet, this time for partypaprika. (I try to post these as I finish writing them..)
inept
fandom: nodame cantabile (jdrama version)
pairing: nodame/chiaki
rating: pg
word count: ~1,000
notes; Again, for the jdrama because I've not read a single page of the manga. Takes place after the drama ends. Also, partypaprika, I'm sorry I didn't include much of the prompt words etc into this.
He's late, he knows. He runs and runs and turns a corner, and runs even faster, but he knows he can't make it on time no matter how hard he tries and he runs and Nodame.
Nodame.
*
Nodame sits at the piano, and knows Chiaki isn't among the audience. She saw the row of judges, she saw her friends in the crowd, she saw familiar faces that weren't his, and panic overcame her. The concerto is light blue, like the paint on his kitchen's ceiling, that exact shade, and she knows the music, feels it. She's practised it so hard, worked for everything, this scholarship, this competition, pushing herself and pushing herself constantly for her sake, for his encouragement, for Auclair-sensei, for everything and anything.
But now she feels the music, notes and keys and melodies, slide off her back, falling all over the floor in a huge big mess, and her fingers are stiff, she can't move her hands, can't hear the music. She listens to silence for five minutes and exits the stage.
He didn't come watch her play.
*
“Are you stupid?” he yells at her, once he's caught his breath.
“Senpai didn't come, so Nodame couldn't play,” she defends herself and he can tell she's been crying, he can tell she's about to cry again, but he's just so angry at her, such a big opportunity, he knows she could've, she could've won and and -
“Am I your fingers? No, you idiot, you can play without me watching over your shoulder!” He sighs. “One person in the crowd of hundreds missing and you claim -”
“Senpai doesn't know what it's like!” Nodame yells back at him suddenly.
He inhales but then pauses, changing tactic as he remembers, knows, yelling with Nodame has never worked, nor will it now.
“Next time, just imagine me there,” he says. “I'm there. Even when I can't be there, I'm there.”
It's corny, and he hates it, and what he really wants to say is apologies, an endless litany of them. She smiles, just a little, but it's enough, and it's a big wasted opportunity but he knows there would be setbacks.
She throws her arms around him and he fights out of the touch. She doesn't know what it's like.
*
He shoves a ticket at her, explaining briefly about each orchestra member receiving two, since his mother isn't coming, he doesn't have that many friends and so on and so on.
When he looks up at her again, he doesn't face a smile but a frown.
“Nodame can't make it.”
“Why not?”
She explains it lengthily, an embarrassed look all over her face, a flight to New York, a competition she got an invite to, isn't New York in England? She has no idea what this all means, but he does and he's excited for her sake, even when she looks up at him apologetically.
“I'm sorry, senpai,” she says and he keeps his cool, crushing the ticket in his fist.
“Oh well. I'm sure you'll succeed in New York. Do your best,” he says, and offers a smile, just the tiniest, because he means it, and he wants her to succeed, really succeed this time.
*
It's been a while since Nodame hasn't been to his performances. She usually always makes a point of being there, even though he's stressed that he really doesn't care whether she is there or not. Of course, then he always remembers Stresemann's advice about supporters, friends in a musician's life.
The more he thinks about the fact Nodame won't be there, the more it bothers him. Even though it's not really her duty, as they're not really boyfriend-girlfriend, and he should be able to conduct just as well as usual, as always.
And then he enters the stage, and his eyes move to the empty seat she should've been at. Something throws off his mood, his concentration and though his conducting is as precise and accurate as always, it lacks the emotion he's slowly learned to put into it.
It's not his worst, but it's far from being his best, either, and he hates it, hates the fact he let lack of Nodame get to himself. He drinks and smokes afterwards, until the memory of the concert itself is blurry, and all he can hear is Nodame saying in his head, “Senpai doesn't know what it's like!”.
*
New York is big, and the concert hall is huge, but she plays like Chiaki were there. She plays as if Chiaki was the only person listening, and hears her instructions in her head, from when she first practised the piece. “Gently,” he would say and she'd soften her fingers on the keys.
She makes it onto the second day of the competition, and calls him, knowing he'll be excited.
“Nodame,” he says, anger etched in his tone. “It's 4 AM here.”
She apologises and talks about the competition, talks even if senpai has fallen asleep at the end of the other line.
“Nodame,” he repeats her name, but not angry anymore, gentle, maybe even sad.
“Nodame will be home soon, senpai,” she tells him before she has to go practise and he makes an agreeing voice but says nothing else.
*
He's always known he needs her. Sort of. A small voice in the back of his head he keeps quiet, because he's not the type, and certainly not for somebody like Nodame, and all these other perfectly rational excuses he occasionally has trouble organizing inside his head.
In the airport, he goes to welcome her (because she's so bad at French she couldn't make it home in a taxi), and when she doesn't wrap all her limbs around his body like usual when they've been away from each other for a few days - her ridiculous over-reactions - he pulls her close instead.
He wants to say something, but the words won't come out of his mouth. Finally he manages a throaty, almost desperate, very nearly teary - “Nodame.” and then, “I know what it's like.”
It's the truth, and the last thing he ever wanted to admit to her, that he's this vulnerable sometimes. But then, this being her, them being them, he figures maybe she already knows.
inept
fandom: nodame cantabile (jdrama version)
pairing: nodame/chiaki
rating: pg
word count: ~1,000
notes; Again, for the jdrama because I've not read a single page of the manga. Takes place after the drama ends. Also, partypaprika, I'm sorry I didn't include much of the prompt words etc into this.
He's late, he knows. He runs and runs and turns a corner, and runs even faster, but he knows he can't make it on time no matter how hard he tries and he runs and Nodame.
Nodame.
*
Nodame sits at the piano, and knows Chiaki isn't among the audience. She saw the row of judges, she saw her friends in the crowd, she saw familiar faces that weren't his, and panic overcame her. The concerto is light blue, like the paint on his kitchen's ceiling, that exact shade, and she knows the music, feels it. She's practised it so hard, worked for everything, this scholarship, this competition, pushing herself and pushing herself constantly for her sake, for his encouragement, for Auclair-sensei, for everything and anything.
But now she feels the music, notes and keys and melodies, slide off her back, falling all over the floor in a huge big mess, and her fingers are stiff, she can't move her hands, can't hear the music. She listens to silence for five minutes and exits the stage.
He didn't come watch her play.
*
“Are you stupid?” he yells at her, once he's caught his breath.
“Senpai didn't come, so Nodame couldn't play,” she defends herself and he can tell she's been crying, he can tell she's about to cry again, but he's just so angry at her, such a big opportunity, he knows she could've, she could've won and and -
“Am I your fingers? No, you idiot, you can play without me watching over your shoulder!” He sighs. “One person in the crowd of hundreds missing and you claim -”
“Senpai doesn't know what it's like!” Nodame yells back at him suddenly.
He inhales but then pauses, changing tactic as he remembers, knows, yelling with Nodame has never worked, nor will it now.
“Next time, just imagine me there,” he says. “I'm there. Even when I can't be there, I'm there.”
It's corny, and he hates it, and what he really wants to say is apologies, an endless litany of them. She smiles, just a little, but it's enough, and it's a big wasted opportunity but he knows there would be setbacks.
She throws her arms around him and he fights out of the touch. She doesn't know what it's like.
*
He shoves a ticket at her, explaining briefly about each orchestra member receiving two, since his mother isn't coming, he doesn't have that many friends and so on and so on.
When he looks up at her again, he doesn't face a smile but a frown.
“Nodame can't make it.”
“Why not?”
She explains it lengthily, an embarrassed look all over her face, a flight to New York, a competition she got an invite to, isn't New York in England? She has no idea what this all means, but he does and he's excited for her sake, even when she looks up at him apologetically.
“I'm sorry, senpai,” she says and he keeps his cool, crushing the ticket in his fist.
“Oh well. I'm sure you'll succeed in New York. Do your best,” he says, and offers a smile, just the tiniest, because he means it, and he wants her to succeed, really succeed this time.
*
It's been a while since Nodame hasn't been to his performances. She usually always makes a point of being there, even though he's stressed that he really doesn't care whether she is there or not. Of course, then he always remembers Stresemann's advice about supporters, friends in a musician's life.
The more he thinks about the fact Nodame won't be there, the more it bothers him. Even though it's not really her duty, as they're not really boyfriend-girlfriend, and he should be able to conduct just as well as usual, as always.
And then he enters the stage, and his eyes move to the empty seat she should've been at. Something throws off his mood, his concentration and though his conducting is as precise and accurate as always, it lacks the emotion he's slowly learned to put into it.
It's not his worst, but it's far from being his best, either, and he hates it, hates the fact he let lack of Nodame get to himself. He drinks and smokes afterwards, until the memory of the concert itself is blurry, and all he can hear is Nodame saying in his head, “Senpai doesn't know what it's like!”.
*
New York is big, and the concert hall is huge, but she plays like Chiaki were there. She plays as if Chiaki was the only person listening, and hears her instructions in her head, from when she first practised the piece. “Gently,” he would say and she'd soften her fingers on the keys.
She makes it onto the second day of the competition, and calls him, knowing he'll be excited.
“Nodame,” he says, anger etched in his tone. “It's 4 AM here.”
She apologises and talks about the competition, talks even if senpai has fallen asleep at the end of the other line.
“Nodame,” he repeats her name, but not angry anymore, gentle, maybe even sad.
“Nodame will be home soon, senpai,” she tells him before she has to go practise and he makes an agreeing voice but says nothing else.
*
He's always known he needs her. Sort of. A small voice in the back of his head he keeps quiet, because he's not the type, and certainly not for somebody like Nodame, and all these other perfectly rational excuses he occasionally has trouble organizing inside his head.
In the airport, he goes to welcome her (because she's so bad at French she couldn't make it home in a taxi), and when she doesn't wrap all her limbs around his body like usual when they've been away from each other for a few days - her ridiculous over-reactions - he pulls her close instead.
He wants to say something, but the words won't come out of his mouth. Finally he manages a throaty, almost desperate, very nearly teary - “Nodame.” and then, “I know what it's like.”
It's the truth, and the last thing he ever wanted to admit to her, that he's this vulnerable sometimes. But then, this being her, them being them, he figures maybe she already knows.