Chapter Text
Kiyoomi was next up for the recital. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had even signed up to perform, he was more of a competer rather than a performer. To him, all that mattered in piano was the skill. If there wasn’t skill, what was there? Competitions were what showed people who were actually talented. The boy before Kiyoomi had just sat down at the piano, taking his sweet sweet time adjusting the chair to make it the perfect height. But all Kiyoomi could really think about was how absolutely horrendous the boy’s hair was. An undercut, blond dyed hair, everything about him simply screamed loud and wild to Kiyoomi.
The boy hadn’t seen the blond before.
‘Maybe he only performs?’ Kiyoomi thought. He practically signed up for every competition that was offered close to him, or ones that he was invited to by mail, and he had never seen the blonde before. He looks through the setlist.
“Miya Atsumu: Waltz No. 1 in D Flat Major - Chopin”
Miya Atsumu. His name wasn’t familiar. What was familiar? The title of the piece. Kiyoomi had learned and comepted with this piece when he was 13 years old. Why the heck was some full grown adult playing this at a small town concert?
Now let me explain. Whenever Kiyoomi had found out that someone was performing music he had already performed before, he’d compare it to his own. And for some reason, Kiyoomi felt like Atsumu would do a lot worse at the Waltz than he did when he was a teen.
All of the performers before the blonde had been mediocre to Kiyoomi. All easy yet mistakes were littered throughout the piece. No one could match up to Kiyoomi, he just knew.
After what seemed like a decade, Atsumu breathes in, and out, calming himself down before cracking his fingers and placing them onto the piano.
He begins.
And in seconds, it was as if the world became brighter. Atsumu’s hair was no longer loud and annoying to Kiyoomi. It was simply light, almost like the sun. He takes a glance at the audience, their eyes glued to the blonde pianist. And Kiyoomi almost understood why, until he scrunched his nose at how Atsumu messed up a whole measure of the piece. His posture didn’t seem to change at the mistake, Atsumu had just gone on as if nothing had happened. That’s where Kiyoomi got confused. Atsumu’s tempo was all over the place, he noticed his posture was a whole mess, and the boy was moving his head along with the music. If it had been a competition, Kiyoomi knew that the judges would be dragging him off the stage at this point.
So when Atsumu ended, putting up his arms in excitement from finishing the piece, and the crowd cheered, Kiyoomi was close to losing it. What was so good about a boy who had messed up half the piece, and seemed to ignore the proper posture for playing piano.
Walking off the stage with a bow, and a small wave to the clapping audience, Atsumu passes Kiyoomi after leaving the sight of the people. The two exchange a small glance, but it was long enough for Atsumu to see Kiyoomi’s obvious glare at him.