Okay, so I've been thinking of another IchiRuki story I can write, and I made up a vague plot this morning while taking my English final! :D And though it's vague, it's an idea, so...yeah. :) I had less than that when I started Far Away! :D Ha ha! Anyway, it's like five in the morning, I'm exhausted, but I at least want to start this, so here we go.
I went to school that day expecting everything to be the same. All of my classes as boring as ever, that is except for Orchestra. But we had a small change of plans, nothing huge, just a new student.
I was sitting at my desk, trying to finish my homework quickly so I could turn it in on time. Our sensei walked in front of the class and clapped his hands, getting our attention. I pried my eyes away from my worksheet and looked up, seeing a strange boy standing next to Sensei.
"Listen up, kids," he said. He always called us kids, even though we were juniors in high school. Yeah, we weren't full blown adults yet or anything, but we sure weren't children. "We have a new student today. Give him a warm greeting as he introduces himself." With that he nudged the boy with his elbow, signaling for him to speak.
The guy seemed annoyed with it all. His hands were resting in his pockets of his uniform. He had a scowl on his face that made him seem intimidating, although I had a feeling he wasn't as scary as he made himself look. "Yo, I'm Kurosaki Ichigo," he said, sounding friendly, which was odd. With that glare, I expected him to just bark out his name, but this guy talked like he was refreshing one of his buddy's memories after not seeing them for a long time.
Not sure how I missed it in the first place, I now noticed the craziest thing about the new student. His hair was not only oddly spiky, but it was bright orange. The color was so brilliant that it almost looked neon.
What a strange boy, I thought. Tall, lanky, spiked hair that just happened to be bleached orange, and an orange scowl to match.
Though my internal comments seemed negative, I rose an eyebrow, finding myself interested. Nonetheless, I had to finish my Algebra before Sensei made us turn it in. While in my concentrated state I noticed Kurosaki just standing in front of the class, hands in pockets, eyebrows knitted together. I assumed many other students were staring at him, but he didn't seem to mind.
Sensei must have noticed, because he said, "Take a seat next to...," his words not distracting me as he continued to talk.
Right as I finished the last problem I noticed the new kid approach my desk, school bag slung over his torso carelessly. I looked up, arching my neck just to see his face. He quickly sat down at the desk beside mine, lifting his bag over his shoulder and dropping it to the floor. Pulling out a book from the empty-looking bag, he rested his elbows on the desk's surface and began to read. I glanced at the title and noticed that he was reading poetry. E.E. Cummings to be precise.
Sensei started riding the chalkboard of notes from his fifth hour class from the previous day. He grabbed a piece of chalk and started to jot down algebraic expressions. I quickly copied the notes and tried to pay attention. I soon realize just how hard it was with this boy, this new boy, sitting in the middle of a lesson and reading instead of paying attention. I sat my pencil down and leaned over toward the guy, noticing the natural scent that clung to the air around him. "Excuse me," I whispered, getting his attention. "but, do you need anything to write with? A pencil and some paper?"
The boy, Kurosaki I finally remembered, cocked a still glaring eyebrow and quickly shook his head. "No thanks," he answered, turning back to his book.
I stayed there, face practically in his, unable to believe him. "You're not going to take notes?" I asked, the disbelief sinking into my voice.
Kurosaki shook his head again, looking more annoyed. "No."
I sighed, already bothered by this new student, and pulled away from him, writing down the notes I had missed from wasting my time on him.
The next three class periods and my lunch period I realized that the new student was there! Everywhere I went, it seemed he followed. I mean, I know he wasn't stalking me, but it sort of creeped me out. Lunch was over and I went to my locker, a smile finding its way across my face. Yes, time for Orchestra! I thought, glad to go to my only good class. Some called me over-zealous, but I thought my passion for the subject was perfectly normal. He can't have that class. There's no way. It just doesn't suit him.
I mounted my backpack onto my shoulders and headed toward my haven, the smile on my face wider than before. I cut through the sophomore hallway like I always did, waving to a few of my lower class men friends. Approaching the music hallway I suddenly had a weird feeling, but I didn't know what it was. I ignored the strange alert my brain was trying to give me and continued down the boldly decorated hall. Upon entering the classroom I saw what I had never expected. A lanky boy was sitting in a random chair, the only one in the room, his bright orange mop the first thing I see.
"K-Kurosaki?" I asked, stepping closer to him. He looked up at me, his glare still firmly planted on his face.
"Yeah?" he asked, again his voice sounding softer than you'd expect.
I smiled at him, still trying to be pleasant. Besides, I was still in the Orchestra room, I was in a great mood. "I think you're in the wrong room. This is the Orchestra classroom. This whole wing of the school is the music department, actually," I said, trying to be helpful.
He cocked an eyebrow slightly. Nodding his head, he said, "Yeah...I know."
"Wai-You...You're in Orchestra?" I asked, obviously surprised.
"Technically," he answered.
"What do you mean?" I started, sounding more normal. "Did the office mess up your schedule or something?"
"No," he retorted, obviously annoyed. "I play the piano and they didn't have a class like at my old school. They told me I could play for the orchestra. Why? Why are you acting so surprised to see me here?"
"Well...," I began, not really knowing what to say. "You just..don't seem like the type to be into music, that's all." I still smiled although I felt guilty for being so hasty to judge.
"You don't even know me," he answered, looking more angry than annoyed.
"Look, I'm sorry-" He cut me off.
"Whatever, it's no big deal," he said, standing absently and sliding his hands into his pockets. He approached the piano and sat at the bench, stretching his long legs out as far as the instrument would allow him to. I expected him to play something, to prove himself or something like that. But he didn't, he just sat there and stared at the keys, his eys dancing across them like they were his fingers. The act looked like a silent practice routine.
Feeling guilty for jumping to conclusions, I walked to the back room where the instruments were stored and grabbed my cello, along with it's accompanied pieces; cello strap, bow, music, and rosin. I sat up the area I played in daily after getting a stand and slid the in-pin out of my instrument, absently sitting the end into the crater of the cello strap. Bow in hand, I placed it on the A string and slowly pulled the bow in an effortless manor, hearing the crisp sound of perfect intonation.
Kurosaki's head rose slowly as he watched me. I ignored him politely, shifting the weight of the bow to the D string and sliding it across, the bow hairs sticking easily from the fresh rosin I had applied to them. Next was the G and then the C. All in tune. Happy with the welcoming sound of my cello, I grabbed a random piece that we had played for contest the previous year and sat it on my stand. I set my bow, index finger of my left hand pressed against the C string, the first note a D. The song, Prelude: Rhosmydre burst into life, the low hum of the tune pouring from the F-Holes. The sound grew and shrank with the implied crescendos and decrescendos, the notes rising and falling in scales. I had most of the song memorized, but avoided the new students gaze as he continued to watch me.
Usually I had no problem with people watching me play. I was, not to be self-righteous or anything, one of the best cellists in Karakura High's Orchestra. But something about this boy watching as I played the piece with meaning; I felt exposes as I held nothing back. But that was how I always played, I didn't care. The music meant something to me, the notes were words, a language only the instruments could speak and we, the musicians, were the translators. I knew that, I felt it while I played. But I felt like this guy was looking into my thoughts and my feelings, just by watching me play. I wasn't going to stop, it's not like he was never going to watch me play again, but I decided to forget about eye contact. At least while performing.
As other members of the orchestra started pouring in, the song ended and I placed my bow on my stand. I glanced at the boy at the piano and saw that he was still watching me. I had hoped all the people would distract him, but it didn't seem to work. I ignored it and started talking to the other cellists around me.
The class started and our director, Mr. Kaien Shiba, cleared his throat to get our attention. "You must have noticed our new member," he said, smiling and gesturing toward Kurosaki. "He's a transfer student from a school in Tokyo. Everyone, this is Kurosaki Ichigo." With that the whole class said "Welcome Kurosaki-san." in unison.
The boy held up a hand, passing it off as a wave, and said, "Just call me Ichigo," absently. Shiba-san took a quick note of that and then returned his attention back to us. "Okay, so I know it seems strange to us, but Ichigo here is going to be our pianist."
Students looked around and whispered words of confusion to one another. "Do the pieces we play even have a part for the piano?" Urryu Ishida, the leader of the first violins asked.
Shiba nodded excitedly. "Yes, of course! For example, Prelude, the song we played last year that Kuchiki was just playing, it has a wonderful piano piece! But because we were taking it to level one contest and we couldn't afford to pay an accompanist to practice with us all the time, we couldn't use it. This is going to improve our sound immensely!"
"Is he even good?" a violist questioned.
"Hear for yourself," Shiba said and smiled at Kur-Ichigo. "Go ahead, Ichigo."
Ichigo's eyebrows rose, surprised. "Uh...what should I play?" he asked.
"Anything that comes to mind."
Nodding, Ichigo slid the wooden cover up, the keys gleaming as they woke from their slumber. His foot fell upon the first pedal and his fingers lay over the keys naturally. I was even more interested than I was this morning as I sat closer to the edge of my chair.
Clearing his throat, Ichigo said, "Uh, this is called 'I' by Yiruma," he stated before looking down at the keys. Pressure was carefully applied as he began the song. It started slow, but that's how it was supposed to be. I recognized the song because it had a cello solo that I had learned my freshman year. As the song grew louder and faster, Ichigo didn't miss anything. Every note was crisp and clean, sounding perfectly in tune. I was amazed.
Listen to this beautiful music...I think I'm in love! I thought jokingly, a grin spreading across my face.
Okay, so I stayed up until six in the morning writing this. I play the cello and a wee bit of the piano, so these things are familiar to me. I'm sorry if you think there's too much music lingo in there, but it's not all going to be like that.
So. Please review. I really want to know what you think. I really like it so far, but it's six, actually six thirty, in the morning, so I very possibly could be wrong. :)
Oh, and by the way, those songs are obviously real. If you typed them into youtube, which I highly recommend, you'll find them. I played Prelude for contest this year and loved it. I don't know I by Yiruma, but I can play the right hand of two of his other songs. (Like I said, I can play the piano some what.) Anyway, there it is. :)