Revelations Under the Moon

The room quieted when everyone saw Hiromi sit down at the piano. For a moment she sat there her gaze drifting between the black and white keys and the incredibly complex sheet music in front of her.

'It's alright, you can do this', she tried to encourage herself, 'You've been practicing for weeks now. You know the notes, measures and movements like the back of your hand. You can practically hear an old German man screaming at you every time you play', She extended her hands and began playing the Moonlight Sonata, "Now is not the time for being afraid.'

The calm and hypnotic first movement drifted throughout the great hall. If one were to have a mind for architecture, the room's acoustics were just right for projecting sound. Having heard her practice so many times before, the tune was familiar to Benjiro. Hiromi's skill was shining through every note that flew through the room. While he'd be loathe to admit it out loud, he had to admit that she most likely outstripped him in terms of technical skill on the ivory keys.

'Still, she doesn't need to show so much disrespect to the genre of metal', he thought, 'There's a lot more that goes into it than screaming, distortion and speed.'

Benjiro felt a small tug on his sleeve and turned to hear Akiko whispering, "Nojiri, is everything alright. You looked a little annoyed for a second."

He leaned down, "Yeah, I'm f-fine. J-just getting a feel for her s-style."

"Is there something wrong with her playing?"

The young man shook his head, "No, sh-she's good. Am-mazing really. I'm j-just wondering what happens w-when she m-makes a mistake."

Akiko quirked an eyebrow, "What does that mean."

Benjiro was about to answer but he could see one or two of the adults nearby, giving them the evil eye. Instead, he pointed and whispered, "Just w-wait and watch."

Letting the music simply speak for itself, Benjiro could only listen in begrudging admiration of Hiromi's recital. He closed his eyes and let the music transport him away to the floor of an uninhabited forest. He could hear the rustling of the softlly windblown leaves, revealing soft beams of silver moonlight. Feelings of tranquility and peace rolled over him. Most of what Benjiro played was good for catharsis, the rock, the jazz, the blues, but thinking it over, he didn't play many things that truly calmed him down. No, that wasn't exactly true, there was one, but McCartney's song, for as comforting as it may be, still had heavy connotations.

Back with Hiromi, she was finishing the first movement and began moving onto the second movement. Hiromi kept her face leaned downward, which was both helping her to keep the distracting stares from the crowd out, as well as hide the small beads of nervous sweat rolling down her forehead. A battle of focus between the music and reminding herself to remain loose enough that she wouldn't pull a muscle. Such a thought made her laugh darkly, 'Something that's considered completely nonathletic relies more on muscle memory than things that actually need muscle. Oh the irony.'

Mentally she tried shaking her doubts and dark humor from her mind. But the beast of a Sonata was starting to rear its ugly head. In Benjiro's mind, the peaceful landscape was being churned up by a powerful wind, as Hiromi's playing became more intense. But through the wind, the young man could tell that something wasn't right. A note that was played just a quarter time too late, and the resulting overcorrection to 'catch up.' It was creating a dissonant lack of pattern. Having an ear for music, he could tell that she was beginning to slip. Which meant, "Oh, oh no."

"Now what's wrong", Akiko asked.

"I think th-that Domon is ab-bout to unr-ravel."

Akiko gave her plus one an inquiring look, but he was far too focused on Hiromi to notice. That sight made her frown a little, but she slowly turned her head towards the performance once again to try and figure out what Benjiro meant.

Hiromi was having a tough time trying to blink the sweat from her eyes, or were those tears from all the nerves? Her fingers ache, her wrists felt like boiled noodles, her back was beginning to lock up and her mind was warring between confusion and the score. The second movement was finishing up, and she knew she had messed up. Shooting a look so quick that nobody noticed, she could see some of the party goers, and she knew by their critical and unimpressed stares that she was making a lot of mistakes. Such a thing wouldn't have been a problem somewhere like school where she could rely on either her fans adoration or lack of musical knowledge to blind them from the fact that she wasn't as much of a piano prodigy as she pretended.

A fact that was about to become clear as day, as she moved onto what could be considered her arch nemesis, the third movement. Before she could start though, directly in front of her, she noticed the boy that she had personally invited was staring right at her. Unlike the other stares in the room, this one wasn't judgmental, or quizzical or even adoring. No, the way he was staring at her with those eyes, he looked like he was trying to say something to her. In an instant, without even opening his mouth, she understood that it was the same question he had been asking her since he first asked her to play for him.

Her fingers were racing across the keys like a pair of aggressively tap dancing spiders, trying to keep up with the intense tempo. Mistakes were still being made, but that gaze was just boring into her, refusing to let up, but this time, it wasn't aimed at her. Rather, he seemed to be trying to look past her, inside her. When she closed and opened her eyes again, she found herself in the middle of a forest at night.

"I know you're struggling", she whipped around to see Benjiro who spoke to her, "And that's not due to a lack of skill. So, one last time, I'll ask you, are you enjoying the music or are you just playing because you were ordered?"

Opening her eyes back up, Hiromi decided she was done being bossed around. She wasn't looking at the score at all anymore. No, she was focusing totally on the boy who was so rudely interrupting her thoughts. The music came under attack as Hiromi, no longer caring, bean playing her heart out. To hell with composure, she swayed and jerked her body back and forth as the third movement offered no quarter, but in return, none was asked. Nothing else mattered, at that moment, all that existed was simply the keys and what she was trying to say with them.

With a final flourish of her hands, Hiromi struck out the last note, garnering a round of applause and a few whistles from the crowd. Shakily standing to her feet, she took a bow. After making the rounds of shaking hands with congratulators, Hiromi decided to get a word in edgewise with a certain ponytail wearing boy. When she found him outside, away from the crowd, "So, was that up to par for you, Mr. Nojiri?"

A smirk crossed his face, "It was a little dodgy in the first part, but things definitely improved in the last third."

For some reason, Hiromi felt relieved, "Hmm, well what else would you expect from me?"

Benjiro extended his arms, and Hiromi saw that he still had his present in her hands. Ripping the paper open, inside was a book with the title "Beginner Piano Lessons for the Aspiring Blues Enthusiast."

"Are you trying to tell me something about my skill or my taste", Hiromi asked, "Well thank you any-", she stopped when she felt the book ripped from her hands. Turning around, she saw her father giving the book she just received a look like someone would give sludge in their pool water.

"What is this drivel I'm seeing here", he demanded.

"Father", Hiromi said in a placating tone, "That was a gift that this young man, Benjiro Nojiri here gave me."

"So, this is the boy that bested you in poetry?"

That comment stung a little, but Hiromi just muttered a quick "Yes".

Benjiro couldn't get a read by looking at Mr. Domon's face, but he recognized the way he looked. It was the kind of look that screamed, 'You're clearly not anything worth being considered interesting.'

"I would appreciate it if when you give my daughter a gift, that it be something she she actually have a need", he said in a monotone voice, "A book for lowbrow bar music hardly qualifies as such."

It was difficult telling whether the brunt of the Domon patriarch's disgust was directed at the gift of the giver, but Benjiro was feeling slighted either way. He wanted to snap back at the older man, but since this was his house and his daughter's birthday, which could get him tossed out, Benjiro bit his tongue. Luckily for him, he had no need.

"Father", Hiromi interjected, "There is no need to be so rude to someone I personally invited to be here. And besides, although his taste in music is... unique, it was only through Mr. Nojiri's aid, that I was able to perform as I had tonight."

The elegant girl continued pleading Benjiro's case, but he was too busy reeling from the fact that she was actually praising him.

"So, is that the reason why your playing was less than desirable tonight?"

The statement was delivered bluntly, but the sharp pain Benjiro saw it cause Hiromi was clear, "How can you say that? She put her soul into playing that piece. Sure there were some mistakes, but she still rocked Beethoven's world."

Mr. Domon looked even further unimpressed, "It doesn't matter whose world was 'rocked'", he tested the word, "She still played less than excellently, and as such, this night will be considered less than stellar."

As Hiromi's father walked off, said girl's poker face from school was back on, but Benjiro could see that her eyes were close to watering. The sight of such a cold and uncaring parent was hard for Benjiro to comprehend, but he shook those thoughts from his mind to look at Hiromi.

Benjiro held up his hands, "You probably won't care, but whatever."

Hiromi turned to look at him.

"It's a little tough to tell, but my fingers are really calloused. When I first picked up the guitar, it was harder than I thought it would be. But, I just wanted to be good at something for once in my life, so I played literally until my fingers bled."

The young man blushed when Hiromi took one of his hands to examine it, "So you weren't actually secretly a genius trying to give me vague advice."

Benjiro snorted and said, "If I could count as a genius then you could walk over the bar somebody set to qualify as one."

The analogy made Hiromi lightly giggle.

"But in all seriousness, no. I told you that stuff because, you had the notes about as good as you could get them. With all that practice it's no shock. But you were so focused on playing things right that you forgot to just play."

Hiromi adopted a pensive expression for a moment. When was the last time she had done something just to do it? Did she actually have any hobbies or interests that weren't for the sake of advancing to a good university or ensuring a lucrative career? Or even of the activities she did have, did she ever try to find a way to take any personal joy in those things? Vacation spots or places for off days? Never in the presence of anyone she wanted to be around for long. Friends? More like accessories. Academic achievement? More of a chore now that she thought about it.

"But anywho", the young man continued, "You gave it your all out there, and you finally put some of your heart as well as your brain into the music. And sure, that may never be your strong suit, but you refused to give up despite that. And even if your Dad doesn't think you did well, so what? What you just pulled off, nobody can take that from you."

Clouds of anger and pain were breaking up inside Hiromi's chest, replaced by a warm, shimmering sensation. Looking into those eyes again, she saw that they weren't a solid color. Instead, they were flecked with different colors, like the canvas of star clusters that they currently found themselves underneath.

Looking embarrassed by his speech, Benjiro tried to skulk away, but was stopped. Hiromi slid her soft fingers over his rough ones, "It may be my birthday, but a gift for you is in order." She leaned forward and gave the young man a soft kiss on the forehead, "That's to say thank you for standing up for me. Nothing else you understand?"

All Benjiro could do was nod his cherry tomato looking head.