Chapter Text
Touya thinks the only positive thing about going to boarding school is not having to deal with his father anymore. One of his older brothers will be there, but he’s a senior and definitely too preoccupied with other matters to worry about him, so Touya considers himself almost completely unattached. Yet, the violin sitting next to him on the floor of the train car watches over him forbiddingly, a reminder that while he is left to his own devices, his purpose is to master the art the Aoyagi family reveres. He has no other goal.
He’s been playing violin his whole life, so he’s used to it. He finds it fits his independent attitude and slight presence. Overall, though, Touya continues to play violin because he loves music, and it’s the only form of self-expression he can latch onto under his father’s stern eye.
He stares out the window at the fields as the train continues on its way. He’d been listening to music until his playlist had reached the end, and now he sits in silence, earbuds still in. He’s worried if he listens to anymore classical music he’ll get sick of it before he even gets to the performing arts boarding school, where he’s supposed to start studying it.
Touya also leaves his earbuds in because he really, really doesn’t want to be bothered. He’s not sure what he’d expected, being in a train car full of rich kids: with the way the people around him are acting, he’s convinced they’ve never been out of the sight of an adult in their lives. A girl with bright pink hair is bounding through the train car and introducing herself to anyone she finds interesting enough, and she’s currently talking to a boy with purple hair who’s tinkering with some unidentifiable electronic device, laughing as it sputters and sparks.
Most people seem to know each other already, but since Touya’s never been very socially inclined, he seems to fade into the background of the train. Continuing to stare out the window at nothing in particular, he wonders how long is left of the trip. He’s been sitting here for around two or three hours, looking blankly at monotonous scenery as it passes. They’ve got to be getting there soon- it’s beginning to look more and more like a city as they continue.
The combination of the ambiance of the people in the train and the soft swaying of the train causes Touya to slowly grow sleepy. He isn’t sure if he actually falls asleep or not, but he thinks he probably does, because when he jolts awake the train is at a complete stop. He pulls out an earbud and looks around, surprised to see no one making a move to get off yet; in fact, it looks like they’ve reached yet another train station.
Touya sighs and unlocks his phone, browsing through his playlists, of which he doesn’t have many. Defeated, he decides to just listen to the one he was listening to before. As he’s busying himself with skipping songs until something slightly interesting comes up, the doors of the train open and a few new teenagers trickle into the train. Since he sits opposite the side of the open door, he can just stare out the window he’s pressed up against and pretend not to hear anyone. He does just that.
He almost succeeds in being unbothered, but he feels someone tap his shoulder to get his attention. The feeling surprises him so much he’s sure he jumps a foot into the air, but he regains his composure in a fraction of a second. Taking out his earbuds, Touya turns around to see a girl with short brown hair staring at him expectantly.
“Excuse me,” she says, “Is anyone else sitting here?” Touya shakes his head and the girl turns around to look over her shoulder and beckon someone over. Soon, she’s joined by a boy with orange hair. “Here,” she points at the open spot next to Touya and frowns. “Sit.”
“I told you, Ena, I’m fine,” says the boy, eyes gleaming with annoyance.
“No. You are not going to stand by the door and isolate yourself,” she replies. Touya turns back to the window. Ironically, that’s exactly what he’s been doing this entire time, but he assumes his situation is different than theirs. The girl turns her attention to Touya again and sighs. “Sorry. I’m Shinonome Ena and this is my little brother, Akito. He’s a first year.”
Touya turns back to meet her eyes, still so intense they’re a little overwhelming. “Aoyagi Touya,” he replies. “First year.”
“Sorry for bothering you, Aoyagi, my sister and I will be on our way now.” Akito grumbles.
Ena huffs and grabs Akito’s arm as he tries to leave. Although she’s considerably shorter than him, it’s somehow understandable that she’s older. Akito doesn’t necessarily look like a mess of a person, but Ena definitely looks more put together than him. “I already asked if you could sit here. It’s more of a bother to do this for no reason.”
Touya wonders if he should tell them this is actually fairly good entertainment compared to the past four hours he’s spent staring out the window listening to Beethoven, but he decides against it. Fortunately, Akito doesn’t seem too talkative, and as long as Touya isn’t bothered to talk to him the whole rest of the trip, he doesn’t really care one way or the other. The siblings stare at each other, having some kind of silent argument, but neither seems to win. “Come on, Akito, Mizuki’s waiting for me.”
“Fine.” He gives up. Touya watches as he sits down on the edge of the seat, a good foot or so away from Touya, and facing out towards the aisle. Ena smiles at him with a little added contempt, and then gives Touya a little bow and thanks him. Touya nods silently and looks back out towards the window.
After about ten minutes of silence, he realizes Akito must have a habit of self-pity, because he keeps his back to Touya the entire time. If Touya knew how, he’d ask him about it, but he doesn’t know how to phrase the question, so he doesn’t. He doesn’t even realize he’s quite literally staring at the back of Akito’s neck until he moves to take something out of his pocket and Touya whips his head back to the window, hoping Akito didn’t know it.
“Aoyagi,” he hears, and he feels himself stiffen. “Want some?” Touya turns to see Akito offering him a piece of gum. Touya takes it hesitantly. “You don’t talk much, do you?”
Touya stares at his lap as he tries to think of how to respond. He feels like saying ‘Nope, not really’ seems dismissive, but he feels like he’s put on the spot. His entire life has felt rehearsed, so when someone asks him something like this, he doesn’t know how to play it off as a joke or how to lighten the mood. He feels frozen.
To his surprise though, Akito doesn’t seem to really want to push him to answer. “I see.” He leans back to stare at the seat in front of them, blowing a bubble with his gum and fidgeting with the wrapper. “I won’t force anything, in that case.” There’s a beat of silence as Touya continues to sit still, the piece of gum in his clammy hand and eyes shifting between his lap and the violin sitting by his feet.
“Well, hopefully we’ll get to know each other throughout the year, especially since we’ll be sharing a room.”
Touya knits his brow. “What?” he asks, turning to address him.
Akito blows another bubble as Touya studies his profile. “Ah, I assumed you didn’t realize,” Akito says, feigning nonchalance as though he’s attempting to minimize the air of awkwardness between them. “Unless there’s another Aoyagi Touya here, we’re roommates.” Touya wishes he’d known, but he hadn’t handled any of his paperwork. He wonders if there had been some kind of student guide he was supposed to receive.
“Oh, yeah,” Touya says. He tries to make it sound like he’s known all along, but it’s not very convincing. Akito glances at him, brown eyes unmistakably warm. Touya isn’t sure what to make of him, with his artificially dyed hair and unreadable personality. Yet, if Akito had picked up on how Touya actually hadn’t known anything, he doesn’t say anything about it.
Instead, the train speakers play their unpleasant buzzer sound, and a woman’s voice- one Touya is beginning to feel very familiar with- announces they’ll be approaching another station soon. Akito sighs. “I hate train rides,” he says to no one in particular as he leans back in his seat and continues to stare forward; and then to Touya, he asks, “How long have you been here, Aoyagi?”
“Four hours,” Touya answers plainly.
“Wow, that’s a really long time,” Akito sighs. Touya nods in agreement. The twenty minutes Akito has been sitting here does not begin to compare to it, but he doesn’t point that out. He also regrets the thought he had earlier about Akito not seeming talkative. He’s thankful, at least, that Akito’s form of letting his mouth run is careful not to pry.
After that, they don’t really talk to each other except for a few small exchanges every ten minutes or so, initiated by Akito. It’s awkward, still, but Touya hopes it means the two of them were somehow getting closer. Maybe he can make this year worth it if he doesn’t spend it alone.
To Touya’s surprise, the boarding school is actually farther away from the city than he’d expected it to be. He guesses it makes sense: the campus is sprawling, and a city nearby might be troublesome for all sorts of security reasons. The architecture is about what’d you’d expect for a private music school: not decadent, but still classic and refined.
When Touya and the rest of his classmates get off the train, there’s a boring speech from the dean; she says she’s excited for the coming school year, but her face doesn’t sell it. “You’ve all already received your rule guides and syllabi, so little introduction to courses or policies is necessary,” she declares. Touya frowns perturbedly. The lecture he’d gotten from his father last night probably hadn’t covered everything.
After about twenty minutes and a lot of walking, Akito opens the door to their dorm room, and the two peer into it like they’re expecting it to be haunted. It’s not haunted, thankfully, but it is very boring. It looks like it’s mirrored down the middle: there are two twin-sized beds, both pushed up into the opposite far corners, each complete with a side table and lamp. At the foot of each bed stands a chest of drawers. Basic wooden wardrobes and desks with straight backed chairs are nearer to the door; in the middle of the room is a drab looking rug. The finishing touch is the single window directly opposite the door, which might have seemed quaint if only the rest of the room wasn’t so bare.
Akito goes to inspect their luggage, which is set in a pile in the middle of the rug, as Touya continues to study the room from the entrance. He feels out of place and a little awkward, as though he’s intruding on someone else's space. Wondering if the feeling will go away as time passes, he looks at the minimally decorated walls and finds himself a little at peace with the novelty.
“Hey, Aoyagi,” Akito says. “Which side of the room do you want?” Facing the rest of the room with his hands on his hips, he looks like he’s ready to roll up his sleeves and get to work.
“I don’t mind either,” Touya replies. He joins Akito at his right, and the two of them think it over for an absurdly long amount of time.
Akito points to the left. “I’ll take this side,” he decides. Touya nods, and the pair splits at the middle into their respective halves.
It takes them about a half an hour to put their things away into drawers and closets. Akito hums something frantic as he works; Touya wonders if it’s Vivaldi or maybe something from a ballet, like Tchaikovsky, and he keeps his mind content by letting it run off as he works. There are already pressed shirts and pants in the wardrobe, which must be the uniform, as the shirts have the school crest on the breast pocket.
As Touya is finishing putting pants into his bottom drawer, Akito collapses on his bed and stares at the ceiling. Some kind of instrument case is on his dresser: it’s not very big, so Touya assumes it’s some kind of woodwind instrument. His own violin is sitting on his bed.
“Haven’t even been here for two hours and I’m already trying to think of ways to sneak out,” Akito remarks. Touya smiles a little at that but doesn’t reply. “The train is a twelve-minute ride into the heart of Aokusa. You can’t expect they’d keep us here when the city is so close. We’re first years in high school, after all, so they’ve gotta let us live our youth a little,” he says in a low tone, as though he’s sharing a secret. Touya zips open his smaller second suitcase and starts piling books on his desk.
“I suppose so,” he agrees passively, paging through a binder of old sheet music he’d found under his bed before he left and thrown in his suitcase at the last second under the impression that it might be important. He doesn’t know what to do with it after he realizes it’s music he’d written himself a few years ago but scrapped after a discussion with his father.
“My sister said she’s been to Aokusa a few times,” Akito considers out loud. “Ena’s not much of a rulebreaker.” Touya hums in acknowledgement, putting the binder on the shelf above his closet so he can deal with it later.
“Your sister’s a second year?”
Akito sits up. “Yep. Surprised you haven’t heard of her. Shinonome Ena, seventeen-year-old double bass prodigy, Shiba Music Academy’s most talented second year student,” he recites mockingly.
“That makes two of us, then,” Touya replies, and Akito raises an eyebrow. “My entire family is known for so-called genetic musical talent.” Sitting on his bed, he continues to look at the rug. “One of my brothers is a third year this year; he’s a pianist.” He leaves out his father and his oldest brother, keeping the information shallow.
Nodding, Akito shifts to sit cross-legged with his chin in his hand, elbow resting on his knee. “So we get each other. That’s cool.” Touya shrugs. “Are you into anything else?”
“What?”
“I mean… do you have any other hobbies? Other than violin?”
“I wouldn’t call playing violin my hobby.” Touya bites his lip. “But i also play piano.”
Narrowing his eyes, Akito drums a finger against his cheek. “Anything else?”
Touya gestures towards the books on his desk. “I read.” Sighing, Akito looks like he’s getting more exhausted by the second. “What about you?”
Akito blinks like he hadn’t expected Touya to continue the conversation. “Uh… yeah. I dance.” Out of all things, Touya hadn’t expected that.
“Like ballet?”
“No. Modern dance. Street dance.”
Touya furrows his brow in confusion, a little uncertain. “I’ve never really seen street dance.”
“I’ll show you sometime,” Akito says, eyes bright. “In Aokusa, there’s-” He’s cut off by the sound of a bell, and through the walls Touya can hear the opening and closing of doors and the chatter of voices. “I’ll tell you later, Aoyagi. Let’s go to dinner.”