PoT: Rondo
Title: Rondo
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Atobe and Sakaki
Rating: G
Summary: The origin of Atobe's signature move.
Notes: My first fic in this fandom, hope it's okay! ConCrit greatly appreciated.
Rondo
The afternoon sun fell lightly across the piano in Hyoutei Gakuen’s music room. Though the piano was not as fine an instrument as Sakaki’s own grand piano, it nevertheless produced clear, sweet tones that filled the room as his fingers danced gracefully over the keys. Sakaki closed his eyes, letting the sonata surround him with its slow, quiet intensity.
“Sakaki-sensei.”
The voice cut through the air, carelessly throwing itself atop a G major chord. The pianist did not so much as miss a beat, playing ceaselessly onward from behind closed eyelids. A door clicked closed and soft footsteps approached.
“You asked to see me?”
The deep bass came from a closer distance now. Sakaki remained silent, save for the music he created. The other presence in the room sighed. Sakaki suppressed a wince when a chair squeaked across the floor as he moved from the allegro to the adagio.
“Sakaki-sensei, what -“
“Do you know the piece, Atobe?” He asked, fingers gently traversing a run in a caressing manner that would not have been out of place among lovers. The smooth strains of the piano floated on the warm breeze filtering through the window.
“Robinton’s Sonata for Sea-Green Eyes.”
Sakaki nodded, focusing on a particularly complicated chord change. The teenager near the piano sat back in his chair, waiting patiently. After a moment, the pianist said thoughtfully, “It reminds me of the way you play tennis, in some aspects.”
Silence broken only by the steady flow of notes greeted that pronouncement.
“The sonata and your tennis share a sense of beauty, dazzling and flawless in its own way. People listen to it not because its composer is renowned, but because the music itself shines.” Sakaki paused, his left hand holding a chord as his right played a flourish and rested momentarily. As he played on, he added, “The sonata, unlike your tennis, has no great lack.”
“Excuse me?” The voice was offended and higher pitched than usual. Sakaki heard its own shift upright in his chair, felt the tension in the room increased.
“Listen to the music.” He commanded. From the adagio, his fingers sprung into the rondo. They danced upon the keys with growing speed and intensity. The final crescendo filled the room with a great wave of sound, crashing over the room’s occupants before receding quickly into silence.
Sakaki opened his eyes, and turned to look at his student.
“Robinton created a new wave when he ended his sonata at three movements, with the rondo.” Sakaki gently shut the lid of the piano. “Supposedly, he stopped there because he felt he had no need to continue after he swept his audience away, destroying them with a perfect sense of completeness that left the people in awed amazement. The rest of the work is inspired, certainly, but it is nothing compared to the rondo. Do you understand?”
Atobe looked at the pianist for a long moment before nodding sharply.
“Good.” Sakaki rose and headed out the room. “I look forward to your next composition.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
X-posted here.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Characters: Atobe and Sakaki
Rating: G
Summary: The origin of Atobe's signature move.
Notes: My first fic in this fandom, hope it's okay! ConCrit greatly appreciated.
Rondo
The afternoon sun fell lightly across the piano in Hyoutei Gakuen’s music room. Though the piano was not as fine an instrument as Sakaki’s own grand piano, it nevertheless produced clear, sweet tones that filled the room as his fingers danced gracefully over the keys. Sakaki closed his eyes, letting the sonata surround him with its slow, quiet intensity.
“Sakaki-sensei.”
The voice cut through the air, carelessly throwing itself atop a G major chord. The pianist did not so much as miss a beat, playing ceaselessly onward from behind closed eyelids. A door clicked closed and soft footsteps approached.
“You asked to see me?”
The deep bass came from a closer distance now. Sakaki remained silent, save for the music he created. The other presence in the room sighed. Sakaki suppressed a wince when a chair squeaked across the floor as he moved from the allegro to the adagio.
“Sakaki-sensei, what -“
“Do you know the piece, Atobe?” He asked, fingers gently traversing a run in a caressing manner that would not have been out of place among lovers. The smooth strains of the piano floated on the warm breeze filtering through the window.
“Robinton’s Sonata for Sea-Green Eyes.”
Sakaki nodded, focusing on a particularly complicated chord change. The teenager near the piano sat back in his chair, waiting patiently. After a moment, the pianist said thoughtfully, “It reminds me of the way you play tennis, in some aspects.”
Silence broken only by the steady flow of notes greeted that pronouncement.
“The sonata and your tennis share a sense of beauty, dazzling and flawless in its own way. People listen to it not because its composer is renowned, but because the music itself shines.” Sakaki paused, his left hand holding a chord as his right played a flourish and rested momentarily. As he played on, he added, “The sonata, unlike your tennis, has no great lack.”
“Excuse me?” The voice was offended and higher pitched than usual. Sakaki heard its own shift upright in his chair, felt the tension in the room increased.
“Listen to the music.” He commanded. From the adagio, his fingers sprung into the rondo. They danced upon the keys with growing speed and intensity. The final crescendo filled the room with a great wave of sound, crashing over the room’s occupants before receding quickly into silence.
Sakaki opened his eyes, and turned to look at his student.
“Robinton created a new wave when he ended his sonata at three movements, with the rondo.” Sakaki gently shut the lid of the piano. “Supposedly, he stopped there because he felt he had no need to continue after he swept his audience away, destroying them with a perfect sense of completeness that left the people in awed amazement. The rest of the work is inspired, certainly, but it is nothing compared to the rondo. Do you understand?”
Atobe looked at the pianist for a long moment before nodding sharply.
“Good.” Sakaki rose and headed out the room. “I look forward to your next composition.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
X-posted here.