Chapter Text
What dumbfounded Takina most of all was the violence.
It was messy, with a thousand different sounds straining simultaneously for the ceiling - somewhere, a shrieking bird; a thick, bassy groan somewhere else; thundering, staccato gunshots all around.
Takina had entered the concert hall a few minutes ago figuring that orchestras were tidy and orderly, mild and controlled. But the chaos in front of her was nothing like that.
What is this? she thought, looking around uncomfortably. The shining, scarlet hall was slowly filling; the people seated were with families, friends, and lovers, all turned and chatting with each other as if this was all very normal. She had also thought that you weren’t supposed to talk during a performance, but she supposed she would have to add that to the growing list of things she only thought she knew.
Sinking in her seat, she pondered the choices that had led her here. She had never been to a symphony orchestra before, but her attendance for at least one performance was a mandatory part of her music class - which she was only taking for the fine arts credit. Now, Takina regretted not having allowed Erika to come with her. Erika had played the violin for years and was breezing through the class; Takina, not so much.
“I can come with you to the concert if you’d like, Takina!” Erika had offered sweetly. “I know this music isn’t very enjoyable for you, so maybe having a friend there would help?”
“If you were there, I would be too tempted to speak with you instead of listening to the performance,” Takina had replied in her cold manner. “Thank you, but I should go alone.”
Takina shook her head at the memory, her attention turning back to the clamoring knots of sound upon the stage again. No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t make any sense of it. She wasn’t sure how she was going to get through an hour of this all alone.
It's only for one night, she reasoned with herself, then I'll be free.
“Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?”
Takina looked up in surprise to see a girl about her age. In the dim lights of the hall, she could just make out the girl’s long, flowering red velvet dress, the beautifully rich fur coat that hung over her shoulders. Suddenly, she felt self-conscious about her plain school uniform, which she hadn’t thought to change.
“No, please,” Takina offered with some hesitation. The girl didn’t seem to notice, seating herself with satisfaction, arranging her coat and clutch upon her lap, and gazing up at the orchestra with a content smile. There was a crimson bow folded into her hair, a color that matched her dark eyes, which shone brilliantly in the light of the stage.
She looked very beautiful, Takina thought, before another thought crossed her mind. She scanned the dozens of empty seats stretching on either side and wondered why this girl had chosen this one.
“Isn’t it lovely?” the girl sighed dreamily at the orchestra. “This is my favorite part of every performance.”
“What?” Takina asked, unable to conceal her disbelief. “What song is this?”
The girl did a double take, as if she thought Takina was joking. Suddenly, excitement overcame her expression. “Wait, no way! Is this your first performance?”
Takina stared in confusion. “Yes, I’m only here for a music class of mine. We have to attend one of the concerts.”
“Oh, wow! Wow, wow! This is the start of something wonderful!” the girl cheered, and if the orchestra hadn’t been so noisy, Takina would have been embarrassed by her volume. “This is one of the best orchestras in the world. You’re so lucky it’s your first!”
“What song are they playing now? It’s…” Takina searched for a sensitive word, “ very unique.”
The girl laughed again. “Wow, you really are new! They’re just warming up right now. The conductor hasn’t come out yet.”
“I see,” Takina replied, relieved. Although the orchestra’s shrieking didn’t seem any less nonsensical, maybe the next hour or so wouldn’t be so unbearable after all.
“You’re in for a real treat. Rhapsody in Blue is incredible live!” the girl continued to gush. “I’ll never forget the first time I saw it live. It was life-changing, just like taking a trip to New York without moving an inch!”
“You’ve been to New York?”
“In real life? No. But through Gershwin, a million times!”
Takina didn’t think that counted, but she was currently more preoccupied with the way her head was spinning. It’s like having a conversation with a hurricane, she thought. The girl’s replies were bouncy, immediate, and brimming with animation. Her whole body came alive as she spoke, as if she’d rather be singing and dancing than just talking.
Takina, who preferred to speak as few words as possible with equally scarce movement, already felt a little tired. But although this girl was energetic to the point of surfeit, Takina could admit to herself that she was relieved she wouldn’t have to be alone tonight.
Before long, Takina’s train of thought was interrupted. Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, the orchestra had fallen silent, and a hush swept over the audience. A strikingly large man dressed in a dark suit limped out upon the stage. In the initial silence, the heavy thud of his weight against the stage thundered about the room.
A woman dressed in a similarly dark, conservative manner walked beside him. As she came into view, the audience greeted the both of them with warm applause. Takina raised her hands to follow suit, but Chisato didn’t seem to take the cue, choosing instead to lean into Takina’s ear.
“Sorry, I’m so rude! I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Chisato Nishikigi,” she whispered.
“Takina Inoue,” Takina whispered back, the heady scent of Chisato’s sweet perfume wreathing around her. Before she could regain her bearings, the woman had seated herself at the piano, and the conductor turned his back to the audience, raising his hands.
When the orchestra began to play, the girl - Chisato, Takina reminded herself - seemed to completely transform. Though she was trying to listen to the music, Takina couldn’t help watching her new companion out of the corner of her eye.
Chisato was spellbound. Moments before, Takina was reeling from the speed at which Chisato’s expressions and movements changed, flowing seamlessly from one to the next - but as soon as the music began, Chisato was filled with a curious stillness and concentration. From the first great whine of the clarinet, she seemed to comprehend every sound as if it were communicated directly to her in Japanese; it was almost as if the conductor was conducting her, too. Her smile grew with every swell of the strings, and at times, it seemed that her chest was rising and falling faster with every climax. But most of all, Chisato admired the piano, her eyes falling closed in appreciation as the pianist’s fingers flew.
Takina, on the other hand, was completely lost. She could make out the clear melodies, especially the ones coming from the piano, and she could appreciate the distinctly American sound of jazz. But there were so many noises to focus on that it was impossible for her to tell where to look or direct her attention. She couldn’t even name half of the instruments onstage, she realized.
Chisato glanced over and, in an instant, seemed to sense her confusion. With a knowing smile, she touched Takina’s arm, drawing close to her ear. Although the orchestra roared, Takina heard her words above it all:
“Listen closely - try to hear the rear section.”
Almost immediately, four powerful, thundering booms sounded from the drums, resounding deep within Takina’s chest, as if her heart had sounded aloud outside of her. Her lips parted, her fingers curling on the armrest. Chisato smiled, satisfied, and leaned back in her seat again.
She began leaning into Takina’s ear at intervals, murmuring about which parts of the orchestra to pay attention to, pointing towards which sections required particular attention. Takina nodded and listened intently, trying to absorb the information. She knew that this knowledge would be helpful for her music class, and Chisato seemed like an expert. Although the meaning and major details of the piece still evaded her, Chisato’s direction was incredible, and Takina found herself understanding in minutes many concepts she had failed to grasp in her class for weeks.
But beyond all of the theory she was suddenly comprehending, beyond the melodies she was beginning to hear, Takina felt something even bigger. From that moment on, whenever the drums sounded, Takina noticed it without fail, her body rattling from its force.
And every time, a smile would appear on Chisato's face. You felt it too, didn’t you? she seemed to ask.
Takina did, and it was unlike anything she had ever felt before.
“That was magnificent! There’s nothing more romantic than the American dream!” Chisato exalted, twirling out in front of Takina on the sidewalk, her hair billowing out about her face. In the light of the street lamps, Takina could make out more clearly the gentle curve of her nose, the sparkling crimson eyes, the way her hair shone like white gold in the light.
After they had exited the hall, Chisato had offered to walk Takina to the bus stop. Takina had been unable to conceal her confusion but had agreed; she pondered now, more than ever tonight, why exactly this girl had chosen to follow her.
Takina didn’t have many friends in school outside of Erika, Fuki, Hibana, and Sakura. People tended to keep their distance from her - she had the reputation of being cutthroat and emotionless, willing to do anything to remain at the top of her class - which even her friends loved to tease her about. After many years of being in school surrounded by the people she had known for years, she became used to being held at arm’s length.
Fewer friends meant less wasted time, Takina reasoned whenever Erika nagged her to be friendlier - or, at the very least, less scary. What people thought of her had never bothered her before.
But this girl was so effortlessly open, so instantly genuine, that for the first time, Takina found herself worrying about how she appeared to someone else.
“So, did you like it?” Chisato asked, drawing Takina back from her thoughts.
Takina hesitated, unsure of how to respond tactfully. “It was… very beautiful.”
“But?” Chisato turned fully towards her, her head tilting to the side.
“But… I don’t really understand it.”
“Ah, who could understand a genius like Gershwin? I asked if you liked it!”
“It was interesting. The sensation of the drums is very unique. But it’s tiring to focus on such a long song for so long.”
“Mm, I thought so,” Chisato grinned. “You’ve never listened to music like this. It seems like a single sound, doesn’t it?” Takina’s brow furrowed; she hadn’t thought about that. “If you want to get everything out of the symphony orchestra, you have to untangle every single instrument… When you listen to it enough, you learn how to pick out every sound and appreciate every one.”
“What? Is it really that important? What would it matter if one instrument didn’t play? It would sound exactly the same.”
Something unrecognizable flashed across Chisato's eyes. Her smile never left her face, but this time, some kind of sorrow seemed to creep into her voice. “I've always felt that every instrument is precious. Every note is precious and deserved to be heard, all the way through." She paused, seeming to come away from her introspection, her smile bright again. "There’s a person behind every instrument, and that counts for something, doesn’t it?”
Takina didn’t completely understand. She chose not to press it - for all of her denseness, she understood that she had struck a nerve. A chilly breeze swept through the street, sending the trees whispering and Takina shivering.
“Winter came so fast this year, didn’t it?” Chisato giggled, a delicate cloud of warm air forming from her exhale.
“What’s your favorite instrument?” Takina asked suddenly. She surprised herself with her interest, but something about Chisato's reaction had intrigued her. Besides, this short amount of time spent with Chisato had informed her that the girl wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to talk.
Indeed, Chisato’s expression betrayed her surprise, but it quickly turned into a smile.
“I would say the piano, but I think that isn’t interesting enough for someone with such unique taste,” she winked. Takina wanted to protest before another breeze whipped through the air, and she only wrapped her arms around herself, her teeth beginning to chatter.
“The timpani,” Chisato murmured. Takina watched warm red eyes traveling about her face, measuring her and drinking her in. Something about her entire demeanor had shifted. She was suddenly darker, more serious. The concentrated stillness from the symphony, Takina realized, had possessed her body once again. “When the timpani plays, and it thunders like a righteous storm… I can feel what it might be like to have a heart.”
“What?”
Chisato took a step forward. Takina forgot her chill, struggling to dissect Chisato’s words. “Righteous storm” - who talks like that?
But more importantly, what did she mean about her heart?
Wordlessly, Chisato drew closer and closer, and Takina could only watch and feel her heartbeat racing as she came within inches of her face.
Takina felt something warm drape about her, and before she could stop her, Chisato was wrapping her thick fur jacket about her shoulders. Takina could feel her warm breath against her face, could see her eyes softening. She could taste fear swelling in her mouth, but she couldn’t do anything when Chisato took her hand gently, raising it to her chest and pressing it flush against where her heart should be. Takina’s mouth fell open. Her own heart was beating in her ears.
“There’s nothing, right?” Chisato asked, that ever present smile on her face.
“There’s nothing,” Takina breathed. Where a heartbeat should be, there was nothing at all; nothing but a steady, unending rush of blood, no lively little beat to confirm life. Chisato’s eyes were watching her own intensely, until they began to drop lower and lower, until they were undeniably focused on lips instead of eyes. The scent of her perfume, Takina noticed, was even more disabling the second time. Chisato’s fingers slipped past her wrist and down her arm, leaving empty chill in their wake.
Chisato gently guided Takina’s arm back to her side, giving it a soft squeeze before releasing her and stepping back.
“It’s a machine,” she explained. “But that’s not my point. When I come to the orchestra, and especially when I hear the timpani, I can feel my body outside of me… I can feel what people are meant to feel in our chests when we experience anger, triumph, grief…” She paused, smiling at Takina. “Love at first sight.”
Takina bent her head respectfully. “I won’t pretend to understand. But your story moves me.”
Chisato snorted and rolled her eyes, as if Takina had missed something very important. In an instant, the easygoing manner had filled her body with energy again. “Don’t be so formal! We’re both teenagers, Takina!” When Takina remained silent, Chisato only chuckled. “Are you coming to next week’s performance too? Friday night concerts are always the most exciting!”
“I don’t know if I should,” Takina responded. “I have lots of homework… and I’m only required to attend one concert.”
“I hope I’ll see you again soon, then,” Chisato replied, and though she remained bright as ever, there was a tinge of longing in her voice. “I was starting to think of you as my aibo.”
Before Takina could respond, a rolling hiss rose in the cool night air as the bus finally approached the stop. It exhaled a gust of hot air before the doors swung open. Takina hesitated, but Chisato waved her off.
“Please, don’t let me keep you.”
Takina started for the bus, but turned back to her new friend again, bending her head. “It was nice to meet you tonight, Chisato Nishikigi. Thank you for your help. Take care.”
Chisato laughed and bowed deeply in response, mocking her formal tone - “And you, Takina Inoue.”
Takina turned and boarded the bus. The last thing she saw before the bus pulled away was Chisato’s hair, shining silver in the light of the street lamps, her hand outstretched as she blew a kiss.
As her smiling face disappeared in the darkness, Takina lifted a hand to her own heart, replaying the conversation over and over in her head. She watched the scene in her mind’s eye - Chisato’s face, unbearably close, the warmth of her hand, the silent chest. But what troubled Takina most of all wasn’t the tactless touchiness of this stranger, or her inappropriate, wildly affectionate speech. What troubled Takina lay instead in her own chest - her own heart. Her hand tightened into a fist upon it, and her brow furrowed.
For reasons she couldn’t understand, it was racing.