Chapter Text
A rough, crashing sound reverberated from the foot of Baker House, and from the cheers of the little crowd, everyone on campus knew this was it, the old piano had been dropped off the roof.
Goshiki, ears pricked up to seek something musical about the way the piano had crashed, maybe even a note from the strings, cheered along, a hint of disappointment in his voice. The six-story drop had only made a loud bang. There was no time to feel bad, however, about the lack of melody in smashing an old off-key instrument. After some excited freshmen rushed to the wooden remains, everyone else quickly gathered around and began to take pictures or feel about in the grass for shattered keys, springs and other coveted pieces.
“I got a hammer! I got a hammer!” Tendou cried, holding a shard victoriously above his head, and no one was really surprised that he’d run along freshmen to get more junk to add to his collection. Not that his roommate, Ushijima, would mind much.
In the lively chatter and friendly atmosphere, Goshiki eased his shoulders back a little. He didn’t usually go tense or uneasy in social gatherings, and the Piano Drop was a rather unique tradition; all the more reason to get excited.
But the cute blond he’d been crushing on for almost a year—by which, he meant Shirabu—was there, of course, and this… did not help.
As if fraternity events weren’t stressful enough, now Goshiki would have to steal glances right here out in the open, too.
Preferably without exposing himself too much. Preferably from a nice angle, to catch the soft glimmer of sunlight against golden hair, fair skin and light fuzz almost glowing at the nape of Shirabu’s neck. To catch a smile, maybe a quiet laugh, a subtle squint of the eye when all seriousness slips away and only remains a genuine delicacy, a tenderness, such a rare sight that filled him with warmth and longing and, o—
“Daydreaming again, Tsutomuu…?”
“Eeh—ah, Tendou-san!” Goshiki startled, caught off guard by a slender hand put firmly on his shoulder. “Got some nice broken bits?” he added loudly.
The smirk faded from Tendou’s face as he held a round-shaped scrap of… whatever material that was before his eyes and started examining it. “Hm. This year’s drop is beyond worthless. Look at that!”
Goshiki nodded, as if he knew anything about the matter.
“Look at the felt! So cheap! Ugh. Is that even wool? Just because they don’t wanna waste anything remotely decent.” Tendou smirked again. “But, hey! Maybe we could sneak in a real piano next time and swap it at the last minute. All it takes is a handful Bakerites and Wakatoshi’s connections…”
“Hm-hm.”
Tendou cocked his head. “What’s up there in that thick skull of yours?” he asked, tapping a finger against Goshiki’s temple. “Have some fun! Get yourself some piano junk that you can show your kids someday!”
Goshiki opened his mouth, confused, but nothing came out. Followed a hearty slap on his back, and the tall, red spiky-haired junior pushed him toward the crowd. “Go!”
“Ah, sure!” he finally blurted out. “Bet I can get a hammer, too!”
Ugh. What was that about having kids? What did that have to do with stupid piano parts? What did that have to do with anything? Goshiki kicked an invisible pebble and sighed deeply. Tendou was the nicest guy in the world, but frat brothers could be so much sometimes.
He strolled absentmindedly about the landing zone, occasionally greeting a freshman he knew from volleyball practice; but his attention was divided, subconsciously drawn to where he last saw Shirabu near a maple tree.
It was at this moment something caught Goshiki’s eye.
A tiny piece of scrap on the ground, somehow shining whiter than the rest in the waning daylight; it was stuck underneath a damaged chunk of the piano frame that looked heavy.
It did not particularly stand out, but from closer, Goshiki recognized the typical blue lines of ruled notebook paper, with characters written on the other side. Weird. A message?
He knelt down and pulled hard on the wooden frame until it lifted, so he could pick up the small bit of paper. Then he unfolded it to reveal its contents.
“Wha—” Goshiki’s heart leaped up his throat.
He quickly stuffed the message into his pocket and looked up and around.
He met Shirabu’s gaze from afar. Or didn’t he? Goshiki turned around as if to follow Shirabu’s glance, and when he turned back, the blond had his eyes somewhere else.
Could it be…?
Goshiki rose back to his feet in a flash, trying his best to steady his heartbeat and, most importantly, not to blush.
No.
No, that was stupid. He was stupid. There was no way. He was reading everything wrong, as usual.
Goshiki slouched, defeated.
Still, he kept his hands in his pockets; and for the rest of the day, his mind kept drifting toward the bit of paper clutched tightly between his fingers.