Work Text:
The intro played, serenading the silent and unknown audience of one.
Akko hummed along, complementing the piano with what Akko envisioned as her cello. It continued for some time until- it stopped. Shortly picking up, repeating the last few notes. And then again. Diana was missing something, some way to continue. She simply didn't know where to go from where she was. How horrible a perfect allegory for her own life. She knows she could continue as she was, repeating the same songs made by family before her. But Diana did not want to stay in the shadows of her predecessors, she would create, awe and inspire people around the world. Would speak her heart in ways words could never compete.
Again, she started over. She could always repeat what she was taught, but originality was always difficult, a freedom that, while encouraged, was never fostered. Diana turned around on the bench, frozen in place as she saw the young cellist that was her secret audience.
"Are you giving up?" Akko's voice was shy, scared of what reaction Diana might have.
The silence was long, resting between the two. "Maybe."
"No! You can't give up. I really wanna know how it ends. I have to hear Diana's First! You cant just give up!" Akko took some kind of offense that made no sense to Diana. But then again, nothing this girl did made sense to Diana.
"At this rate, Diana's First miguht be Diana's Finale. I cant get anywhere in this composition. I might as well give up. Might as well do what everyone else wants."
"Maybe you just need another head on your shoulders!" Definitely a strange way of suggesting a collaboration, but Akko's inventive and unique cello was something to behold, though classical teachers would, and absolutely have, demeaned her for it. Maybe another head would do Diana a world of good.
"I'll be righ back!" Akko dashed away to find a storied cello, which she expertly, though only by ear, turned and set in position near Diana's piano. "Okay. You start." Akko hovered in relaxed anticipation for Diana.
Diana began the song again, followed by Akko's cello. As Diana neared her roadblock, her hands began losing their deft touch, nerves eating away at her. But when she hit the last note she had composed, she found herself in harmony with the beautiful cello. Diana was surprised, but not stunned. She continued, feeding off of Akko's creative energy and pouring it into her composition. Their collaboration rose and lifted higher until it released, concluding their song. Akko's breath was heavy, surprised by the bout of collaboration that excelled beyond anything she could have dreamed of.
Diana rose from the bench and began transcribing the song into paper, trying her best not to lose any of it. When she was done she looked down in pride. She looked toward Akko and warmly hugged her. "Thank you," Diana whispered.
Diana and Akko left to their respective homes, leaving behind the music hall. When Diana reached her home in the city, one she kept outside of her family's estate, she laid the musical composition on the table and left to shower her day off, having made more headway than she could have imagined after countless weeks of frustration.
And at the top of the page, what once said "Diana's First" was crossed out, above it laid the words, "Atsuko and Diana's First: Intelligence and Sensibility"