Fujimi Orchestra Volume 3

Manhattan Sonata
 Part 1 - Red Shoe Waltz

“One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, in rhythm...and change, back, reverse turn,”

the baritone voice said into my ear, and I tried not to stumble over the steps I had just learned.
The piece is The Waves of the Danube, and even over the music my partner’s instructions
could be heard clearly. The performance we were using for practice was performed by the
Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra with Karajan conducting. After the song finished, I breathed
out and relaxed my shoulders.

“You’re starting to understand a bit,” he said.

“A bit...” I laughed in response.

“The lines are good. Again.” He held out his hand, pocketing the CD controller with his other.
If there had been onlookers, the sight of a man waltzing with another man would have been
laughed at. But Tounoin was very serious, as was I. I’m trying to teach my body to feel the
three-quarter time signature of the Danube waltz, which began to play again. I concentrated
on the third step.

My name is Yuuki Morimura. My dance teacher and partner is Kei Tounoin. I am one year
older than him - 23 years old to be exact - and he is 20 centimeters1 taller than me. He is the
conductor and I am the concertmaster of an amateur ensemble called the Fujimi Citizen
Symphony Orchestra, usually just called Fujimi. The reason we are holding each other and
practicing the waltz is because it’s almost November 27th, the date of our first concert in two
years — now only a month away. It’s an attempt to study the performance style of one of the
songs, The Beautiful Blue Danube by Johann Strauss, which is to be performed on the stage
as a true Viennese Waltz.

Although I’m not the best musician, I did graduate from a music college and am the top violin
player and concertmaster of the orchestra. But it was Kei Tounoin-sensei — the genius
conductor who dropped out of university after a year to study in Europe — who pointed out
my bad sense of rhythm. He had told me, “Listen, waltzes are music for dancing, just like the
tango, the jitterbug, and disco. So it’s not enough to just keep up the one-two-three rhythm. It
needs to have a comfortable swing for people to move to. It’s a nuance that people who have
never danced a waltz can’t understand.” So even if I play three beats, it will just be a
metronomic rhythm and not an actual waltz. It seems that I’m obviously not a dancer, which is
why I was the first recipient of this special dance training. “Of course, this is true for Fujimi as
a whole,” Tounoin had said. “I’m still thinking about that, but you’re the concertmaster. First I
want you to feel, physically, what is lacking in your waltz.”

While he was studying in Europe he had the chance to attend an actual ball, and that
introduced him to this style of dance. “The Maestro’s daughter was a good waltzer, and she
worked with me for a whole week.” I guess they did about 12 hours of practice a day for

1
7 inches
seven days straight -- literally a whole week -- for the devilishly intense Tounoin. Indeed, his
steps which led me were sure, graceful, dynamic and beautifully composed.

As for me...

“STOP!” I had just successfully mashed my partner’s toes when I was brought to a halt. The
controller stopped the music, leaving only my gasps in the silent room. There were so many
turns it made me dizzy; I thought it was ‘just’ dancing, but it’s quite a workout. But maybe I
was under that impression because I’m not an athletic person. I didn’t expect it, but when we
were dancing the tempo was pretty fast, and I could barely keep pace with Tounoin. The
pleasant warmth of the room had me drenched in sweat.

“In a Viennese Waltz you make turns, but don’t worry about the rotation. It’s more of a
sideways motion, or a sideways leg swing. You land on the ball of your foot to your toes, but
when moving forward, it’s the same as walking — you land on your heels.”

“I’m unstable, tired, and stepping over my feet.”

Tounoin smiled at me with only his eyes, “Let’s do it once more. Just focus on the steps. Don’t
count the rhythm — leave that to my lead.”

“Ok, let’s go.” I’m in the woman’s position, so my right hand is placed slightly above the
shoulder of my partner. My left hand is held lightly over the partner’s shoulder, in a natural
position so that the elbow doesn’t fall. Relax the upper body and soften the lower body joints.
Stand slightly to the right of the partner, and put your weight slightly forward into him. You’re
supposed to stand up straight — but Tounoin is tall. I’m 175cm, but with a 20cm height
difference the position is exhausting.

“Huh,” Tounoin muttered. “You can’t seem to get rid of the tension.”

“Yeah?” I was telling myself to relax, relax… when I was forced to lift my chin, and Tounoin’s
face moved towards me. “Mmm!” He devoured my mouth for a long time in a deep kiss, and
at the end I was exhausted. When I was about to slump over, Tounoin grabbed me by the
waist and held me in his arms.

“Did I go too far?” He said, glaring at me slyly.

I could hardly look at him, “You told me we were doing waltz lessons,” I complained bitterly.
But he replied, “Isn’t it a waltz lesson? I was just trying to remedy your scarecrow-like rigidity,
if only for a moment.”

“Is that why you’re kissing me?”

”I thought we could go to bed a little early,” he said, smiling.

I glared at him properly this time. “If that’s the case, I’ll switch to violin practice.”

“With your current sense of rhythm, it doesn’t matter how many hours you practice.”

“A guy like you is better suited to some other sort of business with that kind of tongue.”

“This tongue is only for you.” Inwardly I flinched.

“Then let’s go,” he said with the conductor’s commanding tone, and I involuntarily responded.
And the waltz begins again...

I think it was a mistake to go along with him, which is the regret I’ve had every day for the
past month, but hindsight is 20/20. Now that we’ve agreed on a consensual relationship, there
is no such thing as a fence without a gate. Kissing is almost a daily occurrence, and there
were two nights where I didn’t get to sleep until dawn, when he had the chance to trick me
into bed with his groping… twice, I think.

Of course as far as I’m concerned, if there’s any chance I’d like to break off the relationship. It
started with a misunderstanding and ended up here as a freak accident. I feel so miserable as
a man to fall into this gay lifestyle. However, there is a certain background and context to the
relationship at this point, despite the fact that I’ve been thinking of cutting it off. Tounoin
descended on Fujimi like a crane on water, became the primary conductor, and gave me a
kick in the pants — to put it bluntly. I was one of the first in Fujimi to fall in love with his
musicality, which makes me think he really is a genius at every turn.

I don’t know what’s wrong with Tounoin. Although he graduated from a prestigious music
school, he gave up the path of a professional musician and fell in love with me, somebody
stuck in a humble position as a substitute music instructor at a public high school. I was like a
flame and he was the moth, and to keep him from burning up I ended up extinguishing myself.
I can’t think of a way to take back something that I already allowed to happen without making
all the positive side-effects go away as well. I can’t help but feel like I’m dancing to his forceful
lead — both literally and figuratively — since I am actually being forced to dance...
“Relax, Yuuki. This isn’t P.E. Class where you’re trying to get an A by following commands. It’s
a love affair type of grade, where two people move in sync to show each other their love,” he
whispered in my ear with his deep baritone, and it made my back tingle. “In this way a woman
making her debut in society, like a flower, feels the strength of a man’s arms and in the
process blooms beautifully. That is what the waltz is all about.” He was trying to extinguish my
suspicion with his will.

“I’m not a girl.”

“Of course. I’ve never been in love with a woman.” Tounoin turned me with brilliant footwork
and skillful lead. “That’s right, a change and a natural turn. Sliding softly... you’re getting used
to it.”

I couldn’t help but look up at the compliment. He caught me with his long eyes, looking down
at me with a faint smile. As we continued to dance, Tounoin’s hands, which should have been
under my shoulder blades, came down to my waist and embraced me with the natural force of
the rhythm... we danced together closely, in a way that would not be a problem if he had been
a woman. Tounoin’s andante breath tickled my ears. The turning and turning of our steps was
pressing our bodies together… as well as our dicks... and I was reminded that we’re both
men. I let out an involuntary gasp and gripped with my fingertips which were just touching his
shoulders, so I wouldn’t lose hold. But it had another effect: the synergy of my strong grip and
the forceful turns caused our hardened cocks to grind against each other.

“Oh,” he said, and I was pressed against his thick shoulder. “Yes, release your feelings and
your body...” he whispered while we continued to dance, tickling my ears. “Raise and lower...
yes, this is what makes the waltz unique. Soft, touch... lower. One-two-lower, one-two...”

Before I knew it the song had changed from the Waves of the Danube to the Beautiful Blue
Danube. Half of my consciousness was listening to the Vienna Philharmonic, and the other
half was playing the violin part in my head. This rhythm... now dancing, now sinking softly and
smoothly into the pattern. I stood up, toe and toe, heel raised and lowered... and danced back
to my partner’s shoulder. The hand holding mine gently came away and rested on my
shoulder as the song ended. I felt a sweet sense of accomplishment and hugged him tightly.

“You are... really....” I knew where this was going. His deep voice entered my thoughts like hot
nectar, and his kiss had enough technique to numb my reason. He gently removed my
glasses and supported my weight in his steady arms, showering my neck and unbuttoned
chest with kisses, caressing my clumsy fingers.
I gasped, “Kei... Kei...!” my voice came out as an unrecognizable falsetto, overwhelmed by a
desire I never thought was in me. Something hot and hard was pressed against my private
parts, which ached with irresistible longing. It pushed into me. I listened to both of us gasping,
and it felt like I was floating mid-air in a daze. I was caught again... the one that trapped me in
that moment shuddered, and my nerves rippled in response.

“You are a worthwhile student,” Tounoin said as he pulled away from me. “You accept things
very easily.”

My flushed face became more red. Unhappily I said, “Are you talking about the waltz?” I
blushed even more, ashamed of myself for thinking it was about sex.

He laughed happily.

“You’re so mean.”

“Heh... well, go on and take a shower. Then you can practice your violin.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“I’ll put earplugs in and read music. I’m doing score study for a show.” Tounoin is Fujimi’s
permanent conductor, but he is also a sub-conductor for the M-Kyo Orchestra. I heard that
M-Kyo records background music for various programs, as it’s owned by MHK.

“It seems you have another career.” I said.

“It’s not so much a career as it is a step on the ladder.” He replied. So many conductors in the
world would kill for that position, but Tounoin simply pushes the doors open. “I’ll make you a
cup of coffee.”

“Ok.”

I stood up and awkwardly hurried to the bathroom, hampered by the fullness in my pants. I
really was thinking of quitting this sort of thing, but when he holds me in his arms all my
reason and self-control goes out the window; I’m drowning in this physical relationship with
Tounoin. I really need to stop doing this once and for all.

I tried to wash and purify my feelings in the bathroom, and when I was done the nice smell of
coffee greeted me. I took my clothes out of the cabinet and put them on. My apartment is
downstairs, but somehow I’ve ended up living between two houses. It’s probably a bad idea to
break stuff up like this, but I usually have a change of clothes and other necessities at
Tounoin’s.

In the kitchen only the coffee was waiting for me. I took it and opened the door to the other
room, where I found Tounoin sitting naked on the bed. “The shower is free,” I told him.

“Thank you.” Tounoin stood up and went to the bathroom, naked yet still dignified. I couldn’t
help but notice his naughty parts. Sex and nudity are so natural for him... I don’t know
whether that was a good thing or not, but his way of being was certainly refreshing. Maybe I’m
the one who’s weird, being so old fashioned about the idea of a romantic relationship between
two men...

For the rest of that Sunday afternoon we both studied in Tounoin’s apartment. Tounoin, sitting
in his stationary position in front of the audio component system, spread the music on his
crossed legs and focused intently on reading the score. When I say he read the score, I mean
that as a conductor he must study to understand and interpret the book of music that contains
all the notes of the orchestra, imagining the sound of the harmony in his head — something I
could never do. And what’s more, Tounoin uses solfege for what I would need a piano for...
he’s a genius.

I stood behind him by the window like a statue, playing my violin into the room. This position
is the best way to make use of the space, which is soundproofed and designed for acoustics.
I’m working on the solo piece of the concert, Mendelssohn’s violin concerto in E minor, op. 64.
So far I’ve managed to get the first and second movements down. Now I just have to get this
final movement learned, and then do the finishing touches on the whole piece. Tounoin was
kidding when he said he would use earplugs; he doesn’t need them when he’s concentrating
so much, because he can only hear the sounds in his head.

After all the waltzing I was almost making the concerto into a waltz when I heard a buzzing
sound coming from under the bed. Another buzz and then it stopped. Tounoin leaves his
phone set to voicemail 24 hours a day, which shows his somewhat selfish nature. But when
I’m reading music I usually don’t hear the ding of the phone, or when I’m playing music loudly,
so I guess I also have some circumstances where I leave it to voicemail. I glanced at my
watch, ‘What the hell, it’s three o’clock already?’ I decided to go back to my place to eat
lunch. I put my violin in its case, placed it on the shelf above the component stereo, and left
the apartment. ‘I wonder if I have any side dishes left?....Well, I did cook some rice last night,
so I’ll have that with eggs on top.’ I woke up at 8 o’clock today, put my laundry away, cleaned
my room and went up to Tounoin’s apartment at 10. I only managed to get 3 hours of practice
in after being “waltzed out” and being seduced. But after eating lunch I felt sleepy.
I’ve been very busy with school recently, and my schedule has been punishing. The brass
ensemble I’m supervising is going to have a concert at the school festival, which is happening
two weeks before Fujimi’s concert, so we’ve been training for that. We have an hour rehearsal
before school every day, and then Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 4pm-8pm. On
Tuesdays and Thursdays I have Fujimi’s rehearsal at 7pm. Even Saturdays the brass
ensemble has rehearsal from 2-7pm, so I have to buy food for those days. But really it’s not
so much the amount of time spent practicing as it is the fact that I have to be the conductor for
a brass ensemble.... and I’m a violinist. If you’ve never done it before, it seems to be an easy
job, just swing a stick around and count 1, 2, 3, 4! So it doesn’t seem like a lot of work (and I
thought this too, to be honest), but when you have dozens of students and dozens of
instruments in one place and you try to turn it into a good performance, it’s actually a lot of
work. It’s going a lot better now, since in the beginning it was like a tug-of-war with a fraying
rope, but now it’s become more of a delicate problem. I want to avoid compromises with
musicality and precision, but if I’m too demanding the students won’t be able to keep up. I’m
just... so tired. Who picked these pieces anyway? Jupiter and Venus by Holst, Nausicaa,
Valley of the Wind, (from the movie) and Teardrop Kisses by Southern All-Stars.

My room is a bit chilly since I don’t leave the AC on auto like Tounoin does. I pulled out my
pillow and blanket and laid down. I wondered if I should have taken out the futon as well, but
then I fell asleep. I was awakened by the sound of knocking, and it was dark in the room.
“Yeah,” I replied, thinking it was probably Tounoin... and sure enough it was.

“Would you like to go out for dinner?” His baritone reply from behind the door made me sit up
squarely. I yawned and opened the door. “Did you take a nap?” He asked.

“Yeah, I was a little tired.”

“I was thinking of going to Fujimi.”

“Sure. I don’t feel like making food anyway.” I threw my light coat over my sweatshirt, as it
was the end of October and quite cold. As for my wallet…

Fujimi is one of Tounoin’s favorite

restaurants, a small place right next to
Fujimi Station. You can hear the train
echoing while you eat, but they serve
home-cooked food so cheap and so
good that I’m a regular customer as
well. We were seated in a row at the counter with only six chairs, and both ordered the set
meal of the day.

“Would you like to get some warm sake?” Tounoin asked me.

“Yeah...” Drinking and going back to bed sounded nice right now.

“Have you been busy with school?” He asked me, and I nodded. Tounoin knows I’m an
advisor to the Brass Ensemble.

“Yeah. It’s only two weeks until the school festival, and there’s no Sunday rehearsal next
week.”

“How is it coming along?”

“I’ve gotten things to the point where it’s so-so, but I think I’m kind of... inadequate,” I felt
myself in a defeated mood. “I really don’t think I’m much of a conductor. I don’t think I can
hold command.”

“Do they respect you?”

“Yeah. I could probably have them clean my nails if I wanted to.”

“I don’t think that would be useful.”

“Well, if you are free, I wouldn’t mind you coming in to have a look at them.” I had been
thinking about this for a while... but Tonoin is the sub-conductor of M-Kyo, and for a man who
works at that level I felt like there was no way to ask him to do such a thing.

But he simply replied, “Sure. Please tell me the day and time of the rehearsal.”

I started to waver, “No... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask you to teach high school students...”

“If it would be of help to you, I would teach kindergarteners.” Tounoin took his planner out. “I’m
open on Monday and Saturday afternoons.”

“But you’re so busy...”

“Come now, what time is it?”

“... from 4pm-8pm on Mondays.”

“Ok then. I’ll come at 5pm. Is it okay for me to go to the music room directly?”

“But...” I attempted to protest again.

I felt a warm sense of relief in my chest when his smile enveloped me. “You should learn to
depend on others.”

I don’t like the idea of a romantic relationship, but I do like him as a person. Of course, it’s not
because he does so many things for me, but because even though he’s an important person,
he is willing to do things to help people out. “Yeah, well... thank you.”

“The reward shall be just one ticket to the cultural festival.”

“Oh God.”

“I want to see you on your best behavior,” his smiling voice said to me, and when I was about
to turn red he said, “Hey, wait,” The bottle of steaming sake interrupted. “Then, our contract is
made.” Tounoin picked up the bottle with a joyful face and poured some for me.

“From now on I’ll try to be more enthusiastic with my conducting,” I laughed as I downed the
glass, “You... don’t seem to go well with Japanese food or sake.”

“Is that so?”

“You have more of a French feeling, like wine or brandy.”

“What, I like Onsen, Kotatsu and Tanzen.”

“That suits you even less.”

“That’s terrible stereotyping.”

It suddenly occurred to me that I liked this kind of Tounoin, as just a friend to have a good
time with. Why was this kind of relationship not enough for him? Kissing and cuddling
between two men is... pleasant.... but to me it still feels unnatural. But when we returned to
my apartment and he held me in his arms, full of food and comfortably drunk, it was not bad
or unpleasant, and once again I was at his mercy.
“Good night. I love you, Yuuki.” Whispered Tounoin, and he kissed me softly. I touched his lips
and thought to myself, ‘Is it all right?’ But at that point I was too sleepy to reflect much. The
warmth in the room made me even more drowsy, and I fell asleep as soon as I wrapped
myself in the futon I had left out. I didn’t forget to set my alarm clock, though.

—-

On Monday I had a full day of classes, a staff meeting, and early morning practice for the
Brass ensemble. The alarm buzzed me awake, and I barely had time to shave and change
before I had to leave. I grabbed my wallet, magazines, notebooks, books and music scores,
stuffed it all in my bag and ran out of the apartment. I bumped into Mr. and Mrs. Suzuki in
front of the 5th floor elevator, rushing out the minute the door opened. I had to catch the
6:18am train; the students are working hard, so I can’t be late. The train is a 15 minute ride,
and then the walk to the school is 15 minutes from the station. Thankfully the vice principal
had given me the key to the rehearsal room, and I got there in time to open the door before
any of the students arrived.

I heard the first “Good Morning” as I was opening up the windows and curtains. This girl was
always the first one to arrive, a female student assistant who plays percussion. She is an
energetic girl who plays with great enthusiasm.

“Good morning. It’s cold today!” I said to her.

“Sensei, you have bed head.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t have time to look in the mirror.” I quickly ruffled my hair with my fingers to
try and make it presentable. I was waiting on the principal and vice principal to tell them about
Tounoin visiting.

Many other schools make music an elective subject, but at our high school it is compulsory for
the first and second years, for the purpose of offering a well-rounded education over all
subjects. We meet once a week with 640 students over 8 classes. And given a choice
between music and art, most students will choose music. Unlike art, music focuses more on
practical skills and they can even make it into a side job. I was in charge of seven classes for
seven periods a week. The content taught in the first level is basic theory, general history of
music, choir, and instrumental experience. The second year students are taught simple
composition and arrangement techniques, and have more experience with chorus and
ensembles. Third year students are primarily concerned with improving the skills learned in
the previous years. They are given a test over representative works from each time period
and style, which is based off of the material from the class. Regardless of if the students are
taking math or English, or sleeping through the class, they are expected to memorize names
of famous composers and compositions that are necessary for a thorough musical education.

I was having lunch in the school cafeteria when one of the first year girls found me. “Sensei,
when are you going to play the violin for us again?” I had played violin as the representative
for string instruments in her ‘Musical Instrument’ survey class.

“One of these days. Today I’m pretty tired.”

“Me too. I’ve been tired since this morning.”

“Ah, well it’s Monday after all.”

“Sensei, did you even bring your violin?”

“Not today. I’ll see you later.”

“Boring!” More girls came over and surrounded me, all dressed in their school uniforms. They
kept asking for me to agree to a violin demonstration until I broke down and promised to come
to their class the next week. I suppose it’s okay, my ensemble is going well and it would only
take an hour.

It wasn’t long before 6th period was over, and the 4 o’clock brass ensemble members were
gathered. I let them know that they would be having a special lesson from my friend who was
a professional conductor at 5pm, and we began with the Holst piece. It’s an excerpt from The
Planets suite, and if you’re just listening to a recording the two pieces are about 15 minutes.
However, there’s a big difference between listening to them and playing them yourself.

“Stop! This is where you always take off, percussion. If you rush, then other people will rush
with you. So please keep the tempo steady.” Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a figure
outside. I glanced at my watch and saw it was 5 minutes until 5pm, so it must be Tounoin. I
lowered my baton and called for a short break so I could go outside and greet the special
instructor.

“Keep it up like that. It’s coming together,” He said to me, “If you can find the balance you’ll be
alright. But the sound is already good.”

“That’s because most of the kids already know the basics. I’ll go introduce you to the class.” I
said, handing over the baton to Tounoin. The members of the ensemble were waiting with
great interest. I clumsily tried to imitate Tounoin’s signature style of introduction, “This is
Tounoin-Sensei, an active conductor who graduated from the conducting department at Tokyo
University of the Arts.”

Tounoin turned to the ensemble and said, “Well then, nice to meet all of you.” Then he turned
to me and handed the baton back to me, “First I will listen to them play under your direction.
After that, I’ll take a turn at it and give my advice.”

“Oh... okay.” I got on the podium and Tounoin sat down on the piano bench. I felt nervous.
“Let’s begin with Nausicaa.” The students readied their instruments with nervous faces.

“Wait a minute,” Tounoin said, turning around and opening the piano cover. “I always ask my
students to do a preparatory exercise before starting. If you would, please sing with me so I
don’t lose my voice.” With that, he began playing the prelude to the Do-re-mi song, singing
the elementary school tune with his imposing baritone voice. He sang one verse by himself
and turned around. “You don’t mean to tell me you don’t know this song, Morimura-Sensei?
And the rest of you?”

“Oh no, I know it.” I responded.

“Then please sing, as loudly as possible.”

I’m not a particularly good singer, but I have to set an example. I began to sing along with
Tounoin, who had begun to sing again. Some of the students joined me.

“Go on, louder.” About half of the students were singing along. “Louder! Bigger! Forte!” Some
of the boys got caught up and started to act silly. “Okay, even more forte!” Tounoin’s
instructions echoed through in his booming voice. After repeating the song — almost shouting
it — four times, Tounoin abruptly stopped.

“Okay then, Morimura-san. Continue.”

My throat hurt. With a wry smile I returned to the podium and held up the baton once again for
the students, who were now in a completely different mood. Thanks to Tounoin’s unusual but
effective maneuver, even I found myself more relaxed. We proceeded to play the popular
songs first (Nausicaa and Teardrop Kiss) and then went on to The Planets excerpts. After
conducting the whole 40-minute program I was drenched with sweat, and was relieved to put
down the baton. Tounoin, who had sat at the piano with a blank expression — the same
stony countenance he gets when he is reading music — quickly stood up and walked over.
He took the baton from me. “Time is limited, so I’ll tell you the most important things to look
out for. Please have your pencils ready. First, the brass in Nausicaa...”
For the next 20 minutes or so, Tounoin poured over the score and instructed the students on
where there are diminuendos not being observed, where some notes were not held long
enough or too sharp, or parts that were coming in late. He was going through his critiques
fast, and the students as well as myself struggled to keep up.

“Now we’ll start the practice. We’ll go through each song three times, but you can watch the
music only for the first two. The second time, you can glance at the music to concentrate on
correcting the parts I mentioned. The third time, don’t look at the score, but keep your eyes on
the stick. You all seem to have mastered the music, so you should be able to do this without
too much trouble. So, let’s begin again with Nausicaa.” The students did their best to follow
his instructions and played with more concentration than usual, even from my point of view.
Tounoin never used a harsh tone of voice, but they all seemed to feel the pressure to fix the
issues in the second round and complete it in the third. After the three popular songs, Tounoin
took a 15 minute break. The students weren’t the only ones who felt a sense of relief... since I
was focusing so intently on absorbing some of Tounoin’s rehearsal technique, my eyes
ached. I had taken off my glasses and was rubbing my eyes when I heard his deep voice say,
“What’s the matter?”

“Ah, just a little tired. I could use a pick-me-up. If you’d like, go to the prep room. It’s instant,
but there’s coffee.”

“Thank you.”

Tonoin observed the music preparation room — which was supposed to be my dominion — in
a curious way. “There is also a desk in the staff room... usually the coffee stuff is here....” I
said, rummaging around. After making such an excuse I found the coffee cups and pots.
Tounoin noticed a sign on the doorknob that said, ‘OFF LIMITS DURING WORK.’

“What is that for?” He gestured to the sign.

“Oh, girls often come to see me... so when I have work to do I put that on the door.”

“Hm, you’re very popular.”

“Why, are you jealous?” His poker face made me wonder if I had said something wrong. “By
the way, could you give me any advice for my conducting?”

“As long as you’re holding a baton, you’re a conductor. That’s it.”

“Well, I’ve never studied to be a conductor...”

“As long as people are playing under your direction, you are a conductor. You have to conduct
with confidence, even if you’re not.”

“I see. You’re right.”

”It’s okay. You are doing enough.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“I don’t say that as flattery.”

I felt like this could go in an inappropriate direction... and this is my workplace... but
somebody knocked at just the right time. “Teacher, please?” We returned to the rehearsal.

—-

On our way home we were talking about the score to The Planets, and then had dinner once
again at Fujimi. The subject of Fujimi came up. Finlandia and Eine Kleine are fine, but the
problem was with the Mendelssohn Concerto and the Danube Waltz. The solo for the
concerto is good, but the orchestra’s lack of ability on their part is a bit painful.

“I’m not even close to being a solo artist yet, but for Fujimi, it’s definitely a big piece.”

“Why don’t we have a training camp?”

“A training camp?”

“Three days and two nights, starting on a Friday. I think it’s an interesting idea.”

“Yeah... I’ll talk to Nico-chan about it. But I don’t know of a good place to have it.”

“I think it’s better if it’s somewhere walkable or commutable.”

“So you mean in the neighborhood?”

“Hmm, we’ll need a teacher, if it’s a training camp.” The old man behind the counter passed
Tounoin a plate of tempura. “How about calling Kosen-ji?”
“The temple?” Tounoin nodded his head. I knew the one he was talking about. “It’s near Fujimi
bridge, right? A pretty big temple.”

“The head priest there likes to be different. I think his son is a classmate with Kuni-chan, so
that school connection could help.”

“Ishida-san’s son? That should make discussions easier.”

“We wouldn’t have any bedding, but we could rent it. It’s a big place, so as long as there
aren’t any Buddhist memorial services it should be fine. The area is surrounded by a
graveyard and a kindergarten next door.”

“I don’t know how many people will be able to participate, but I think it’s worth a shot.”

“If you need lunch, you can count us in,” the old man behind the counter said. I waved him off
ridiculously. “No seriously, let me buy an advertisement. Hey, it’s part of being friendly with the
teachers. Right, sir?” Advertising on Fujimi’s program was an indispensable fund-raiser for
concerts. The price of 20,000 yen per ad was not cheap, but the effect of the ad was
substantial.

“Well, I’m very fond of the food here, so I appreciate it. It’s better than convenience store rice
balls.”

“Of course, you can count on me.” I didn’t know the full story, but it seems that Tounoin and
the old owner have some sort of a deal, so I thanked him. That night after returning to the
apartment complex, I was forced to practice the waltz for another two hours (apparently my
training is very urgent) and went back to my apartment exhausted.

- NIGHT -

Tuesday at noon, a member of the 13th grade girl’s club asked me if Tounoin-sensei would be
coming back. Her name is Mizuno Ayako, a mature beauty who looks a bit like
Kawashima-san. She plays the clarinet. I replied that I was planning to ask him to come again
on Saturday. Mizuno-kun went off looking terribly happy, and I was a little worried; I didn’t
want any love trouble at school. That evening at rehearsal, Ishida agreed to the idea of a
training camp, and the plan was quickly finalized. We would do it the weekend before the
concert, and Tounoin, Ishida-San and myself agreed to decide the location and cost as soon
as possible so we could let the orchestra know.

- NIGHT -
On Wednesday at noon, Mizuno came to the prep room with two friends. They asked me a lot
about Tounoin and even where Fujimi had their rehearsals. I didn’t mind the idea of them
coming to observe us, but I warned them to be unobtrusive since we were coming to the
critical point before the concert. When I went to Tounoin’s apartment to practice violin, I was
made to take another dance lesson. After two hours of swaying and swinging, raising and
lowering, I returned to my apartment completely wrung out and crashed into bed.

- NIGHT -

Thursday was a national holiday, but both the brass ensemble and Fujimi still had rehearsal.
Mizuno-kun came to Fujimi’s rehearsal, along with five other girls. Initially it was only Mizuno,
but after her visit I had a few other students ask to come to the next rehearsal. I told them to
ask their parents for consent, and to please pick their kids up at the train station as they would
be returning after 10pm — not an appropriate time of night for high school girls to be walking
alone. Everybody was fine with it, and I offered to pay for their train tickets to and from the
station. And dinner as well? Why not…

- NIGHT -

As I was entering the usual conference room at the Civic Center with my students, Iida-san (a
guest musician from M-Kyo Orchestra) immediately noticed the group of high school girls.
“Excuse me,” I said, “These are my students. They are here to observe the rehearsal, if that’s
okay.” I told them they could use the corner of the room as their viewing place. At 7:55pm, the
scheduled time, Tounoin came through the door of the conference room.

All the girls gasped together, and the rest of the orchestra was surprised as well. Tounoin —
who usually doesn’t even wear a suit — was wearing a silk shirt and tails, a first-class formal
outfit. It looked great on him. Tounoin looked at the source of the commotion and made a
puzzled frown, but went directly to the podium.

Iida-san immediately asked, “Sub-conductor, was there a concert tonight? Or a wedding?”

“If it was a wedding, it was a black-tie affair,” Igarashi, the principal cello, chimed in.

“Actually tonight I would like you to have a taste of a true Vienna Waltz.” Tounoin replied
calmly. When he said that, a chill went down my spine... I had a bad feeling about this.
“Among the ladies here, please raise your hand if you can waltz.” After nobody raised their
hand, Tounoin glanced at me before saying, “Unlike the mambo and jitterbug, the waltz isn’t
popular in Japan, so I’ve prepared a demonstration.”
“Morimura-san,” he said, and I shrunk back in my chair. “I’d like to see the results of your
training. However, there are some people who would be bothered to see it performed
man-to-man, so Kawashima-kun, if you would...”

I was relieved to see that beautiful woman stand up. “Yes, I have prepared what you
requested.”

‘Eh? Eh!?’ I thought.

Kawashima took out a fluttery outfit that looked like a wedding dress. Tounoin gestured to
me, “Then please, put it on.”

“No way! Wh-why do I have to wear it?”

“Kawashima-kun, you have five minutes.” Tounoin said.

Kawashima came over to me, “Okay, then come along.”

“Wait a minute! Why me?”

But by that time Tounoin had already begun to explain to everyone, “As for why I’ve prepared
such a silly skit, I want you to all be clear that the waltz is a dance. Both the Blue Danube and
the Emperor’s Round Dances were composed and performed as dance music for courtly
balls....” I realized it was the same argument he had used for teaching me the waltz. As I was
listening to him explain, Kawashima and some other women gleefully took off my jacket,
stripped off my shirt and glasses and put a blonde wig on me.

“No, I can see your underwear...” One said. “Oh, really? Take them off!” Said another.

“Give me a break!” I gasped.

“One minute! Hurry up!” Said Kawashima. “Oh, stockings! And this too.”

“Stockings...?”

“Yeah, knee-high stockings! And shoes!” She told me.

“Wow, they’re red” said one of the women, looking at the shoes.
“They were the only ones I had in the right size. Put them on.” The women laughed as they
pounded my face with foundation and lipstick. With that, they thrust me back in front of the
orchestra, saying, “Tounoin-san, she’s done!”

The orchestra went wild with laughter and commentary, “Wow, Morimura-San, you look
great!”... “ a bit Boy George!”... of course if I were in their position I would laugh. But think of
how I felt in that position!

“STOP!” Tounoin’s trademark phrase broke through the whirlwind of laughter. “Morimura-san,
I apologize for putting you in such a strange role tonight. But for everybody who has not seen
a Viennese Waltz, to help them understand the atmosphere, you must sacrifice yourself.”

Fine, I’m on board. Shit, I’ll lean into it. It’s my fault for being born with a feminine face. “Ho ho
ho! Oh I don’t mind,” I said in a falsetto and curtsied like a European lady in a movie.

“Pffft!” Igarashi blurted out, but Tounoin shot him a look and he covered his mouth in a hurry.

“As I explained earlier, I would like the quartet led by Iida-San to perform first. The other
members are to keep their eyes and ears open to fully understand what waltz music is all
about.” Tounoin said as he came down to the podium to meet me.

“So this is what you were planning to do!” I said under my breath.

“A picture is worth a thousand words,” Tounoin replied briskly, taking my hand in his
white-gloved one.

“You should have trained Kawashima-san!”

“I don’t have time to teach a woman how to dance.”

“You didn’t have to have me dress up like a woman.”

“I said the reason. If it weren’t with you, I wouldn’t want to be a part of this travesty. Come on
now, let’s get to it.”

I took up the position and waited for the music to start. However, this is the first time I’ve worn
heels… I wonder if I’ll be able to dance...

“Music, please.” As I watched Iida-San and the rest of the M-Kyo quartet ready their
instruments, I decided I was ready for it. I kept my posture and waited for the sound. We
skipped the prelude, as Tounoin had instructed, and the performance began. We started
perfectly; I had been humiliated enough already. If we’re going to do this, I need to show all
the work we did in training or it will be for nothing. That’s right, in red shoes, a pink dress, a
yellow wig and bright red lipstick, if I don’t dance well then I’m just a clown. Relax.

Tounoin warned me in my ear to relax my shoulders. “Yes, okay... wait, these heels are too
high.”

“I’ll follow you. Trust me,” he replied, dancing on and on through half the floor of the large
conference room.

“Haaa~” I heard a sigh, apparently Ishida-san’s voice. There was a lot of applause. My feet
were killing me. Tounoin let go of my hand at the end and turned to face the orchestra.

“I was able to dance, but my rhythm was still stiff, right?” He nodded his head. The shoes still
hurt. “It was hard because I didn’t have enough time to swing.”

“The best way to understand the waltz is to master this dance, so I would like to incorporate
dance lessons into the training camp,” Tounoin announced, “but for tonight, I would like you to
use our dancing as your conductor, instead of the baton.”

“Isn’t that like putting the cart before the horse?” Iida laughed.

“I believe you can do it. So, from measure 45....”

I glanced over at my students, who looked appalled. I didn’t have my glasses on, so I couldn’t
see their faces well. Good God, I wasn’t looking forward to school tomorrow....

But Tounoin’s unusual method of teaching was a great success. I don’t know how many times
we danced in a row, but in the times it took for us to dance over and over again, the
metronomic stiffness of the waltz in three-quarter time fell away, and we were able to rise and
fall organically. I started to follow along nicely. So aside from the intonation, the tempo and
feel came much closer to the ease of the Vienna Philharmonic’s recording that we used to
practice.

For me, however, I understood the agony of The Little Mermaid who had to use feet for the
first time: the slender high heels that I was unaccustomed to gave me sores on my heels and
toes, and it hurt like hell. I’ve never been so happy to hear Tounoin say, “It’s over.” I hurriedly
started to remove the shoes, which at this point were more like torture devices. There was
blood everywhere.
“Did you get sores from the shoes? Oh, that looks terrible.” Tounoin said, furrowing his brow.
He suddenly picked me up.

“Idiot, stop!” But when I started to protest I felt like he might drop me, so I ended up clinging to
him. He carried me over to an empty seat. Was Igarashi laughing? I’m going to remember that
bastard. Thanks for nothing.

“Does anyone have a first aid kit?” Tounoin asked the orchestra.

“I have one!” “I do, too!” Replied some of the women.

“I’ve got it,” I heard Kawashima say, and she came over and handed me the kit. “I’ve had a lot
of practice with wearing heels.”

I laughed nervously. “Thank you.” I quickly went to work patching up my feet.

“Wow, that looks painful. You endured it well.” She said.

“Yeah, I now have a lot more respect for women wearing high heels.”

“Also, you borrowed that outfit.”

“Oh yes, yes! Sorry for making the shoes a bit dirty.” As I was changing out of the outfit, I
suddenly remembered that I had to take the students to the station. In my blurry vision they
were all a mass of dark blue. I called out to them, “I’ll take you to the station! Give me a
minute.” I hurried to take off the wig... put the glasses on... put on my socks and shoes
(wincing from the pain)... put my jacket back on. I grabbed the case with the Amati violin copy,
which I ended up not getting to use tonight.

I went over to my students, “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

One of the girls pointed at her lips, “Sensei, lipstick...” She gave me a tissue and I wiped off
my lips hastily, and the foundation as well.

“I’m taking the girls to the station.” I told Tounoin, who was at the door. “Please head home
first.”

“Yes, I’ll see you later,” he replied. But I made a big mistake in having that conversation in
front of the students.
As I left the Civic Center, one of the girl’s club members laughed and said to me, “I didn’t
know there would be a demonstration like that! I didn’t know you did things like that, Sensei.”

“I thought you’d misunderstand it,” I sighed sincerely. “We’ve been trying to create a more
authentic atmosphere for the concert, so that’s all it was. Usually we have a proper
rehearsal.”

“But Sensei, you looked good in it! It was like you and Tounoin-sensei were breathing in
sync.”

“We have practiced for hours. But I didn’t expect them to make me do that.”

“Ayashii2... ” I heard Mizuno-kun say.

“What’s that?” I said, smiling awkwardly.

“Sensei is a homo.” Mizuno spit the words out like they were something nasty.

That night I couldn’t sleep because Mizuno’s words were ringing in my head. Of course I
immediately denied it, and the other girls only thought it was some sort of joke. But I could tell
Mizuno-kun was serious. It was a terribly embarrassing situation. It wasn’t like Tounoin and I
were exposed — she didn’t see us kissing or anything. But I’m going to have to cut the
bullshit quickly on this before it gets out of hand.

The bigger problem is that, judging from Mizuno’s attitude, she seems to have a grudge
against me because she sees me as a love rival. Mizuno-kun never came to see me after that
and wouldn’t make eye contact with me, and there was a palpable sense of disgust for me
that was most likely the flip side of her feelings for Tounoin. And when a girl is like that it’s
basically useless to say anything to her. What’s worse, Mizuno-kun is a core member of the
brass ensemble, and one of the student assistants who is basically like a secondary director.
It’s too much to be hated by a child like that, too much! I just don’t know what to do...

My fears were realized in the next rehearsal. Mizuno and her sympathizers formed a boycott
of the ensemble, and I was subjected to the cold and curious eyes of the brass ensemble
2
suspicious, usually directed at people that are being perverted/ecchi
members who did not participate. All the effort I had made to build up the group over the past
six months in anticipation of a fine cultural festival felt like it was going to collapse. The
members of the ensemble, who only had two weeks to go until the end, were now falling
apart. Everybody came to the rehearsal not to play music, but to look for confirmation of the
rumor that “Morimura-sensei is a homosexual.” To the high school students — who could be
critical as adults but also tolerant like children — I had become like some sort of zoo animal
that they wanted to look at from the opposite side of a fence.

I also felt like I couldn’t tell Tounoin about the drastic change in the brass ensemble. I worried
that if I told him he’d come up with some other outrageous solution to the problem, in his own
strange way. He was unpredictable, and I was afraid of what it would be like. That night I
agonized over what to do about the special lesson he was supposed to have with them...
should I keep the appointment and tell Tounoin about the situation, or just cancel it without
asking?

On Saturday morning I left my apartment five minutes earlier than usual and went up to
Tounoin’s place. I slipped the key in and left a note that said ‘Special lesson today cancelled,
sorry for the inconvenience’ on the doorstep; I just couldn’t say it to his face. I took my violin
because I had to go to the Civic Center right after school. I had no appetite, but figured I
should eat something, so I grabbed a drink from a convenience store. The morning practice
was delayed by 15 minutes, but not everyone was there — obviously the influence of Mizuno.
I stopped the lead trumpet player before he left class and asked if he could get some people
together for the afternoon practice. That morning’s rehearsal wasn’t enough when we had the
performance next week.

The pimpled, round-faced third year awkwardly rubbed his shirt collar. “Uhh..”

“And I’d like you to come with the group leader after lunch. I’ll be in the prep room.”

“Ok.” He had a disapproving look on his face.

“Would around 1:30pm be ok?”

“Sure, I’ll see you then.” When he went off to his next class, I put my “At Work” sign on the
door and shut myself in the prep room.

‘Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God, okay we have to talk to each other.’ I made the
meeting, but I don’t know what to say. ‘Mizuno and the others are wrong? The cultural festival
is one week away, so somehow we have to work this out?’ Yeah, that’s what I want to talk
about, but I just don’t know how to approach it. I’m not very good at persuading people, but if I
can’t do it right now then all of our efforts to this point will be for nothing.

Suddenly the intercom interrupted, “Morimura-sensei, Morimura-sensei. A visitor is here for

you, please come to the principal’s office.” The voice pulled me out of my thoughts. It’s not
likely that Tounoin got wind of what was going on and came anyway... right? Oh please don’t
do that, don’t make my situation any worse!

However the guests waiting in the principal’s office were not him. There were about five
middle-aged men and women who looked like parents, in the room with the principal and
vice-principal. “This is Morimura-sensei,” the principal introduced me to them as I walked in.
He then introduced the guests to me, “This is the president of the PTA, the vice-president
Kumura-san, mother of Kojima from class 3 and 2, mother of Hayashi from class 2 and 6, and
the mother of Tanaka from class 2 and 4.”

“Hi, nice to meet all of you. I’m Morimura, from the music department.“ I bowed my head.

One of the mothers said, “I see you are a very young teacher.” There was a hint of hostility in
her tone.

The principal responded, “Although he is young, he is a very serious person and enthusiastic
about teaching the brass ensemble.”

Hayashi, Tanaka, Kojima... they were the students that I took to visit Fujimi the other day. But
I made sure to have them call home and be allowed to go with me...

The principal was about to speak when the PTA Chairman, whose voice and tone matched
his expression, said, “I have something to tell you. The day before yesterday, on Thursday
night, my daughters said they wouldn’t be home after 10pm. So I called the principal.”

“Uh yes, that night...” I started to say.

“He said that you took them to watch the citizen’s orchestra practice that you participate in,
but I was very worried at home because the girls didn’t come home until much later.”

“Yes but — “

“It’s all well and good to be enthusiastic, but you should be more aware of your social
responsibility. Of course, I’m sure you have been reflecting on what you did.”
So he refused to listen to what I had to say, and then wanted me to be sorry. Isn’t it strange to
get so angry before I can explain? “With all due respect, I am fully aware of my responsibility
as a teacher,” the mothers were giving me a look but I ignored it. “The girls told me they
wanted to see Fujimi’s rehearsal, and I didn’t mind taking them, but I did tell them to get
permission from their parents. Certainly I did. I decided to only take those whose parents
could come to the nearest station to pick them up because we were going to be there late,
and I also had them call home. They said it was ok, so I took them.”

“You say you are aware of your responsibility as a teacher even as you try to evade your
responsibility!” Gasped one of the mothers.

“No, I just wanted to explain the situation to you.”

“My daughter said she went because her teacher asked her to! And then had to come home
alone on a dark road!” Rather than believe that her daughter lied to her, she was more
interested in blaming a young teacher and believing he had made an insane demand.

“About that,” The PTA president said to the principal. “It’s absurd to have practice until 8pm in
the evening in a club where there are female students participating.”

“Is that every day? After leaving the house at 6:30am?”

“My daughter seems to have accepted it because it’s before the festival, but isn’t that too
much? I’m sure if I were a teacher, I’d be eager to get results from the students to show off.”

You call me a liar, and now you’re making it sound like I force my students to sacrifice
themselves for my own personal gain! I went to say something in response, but the vice
principal stopped me with his eyes.

“It’s a tradition we’ve continued with the Plus Clubs every year...” the principal started to say.

“You can’t just use tradition as an excuse for everything!” The PTA president snapped
defensively.

“I’m sure you are aware of the responsibility the school has, holding the future generation in
our hands...” The principal began, and while listening to his quietly righteous explanations I
was becoming dizzy with anger. I never forced them to practice! If you ask me, I’ve put aside
my own personal interests to fulfill my responsibilities as an advisor. Why do I have to be
accused of this? But the last part was even more vicious. The chairman, who had finished
saying all that he wanted to say, slumped back on the sofa with a face that said he had no
intention of listening to any explanation I had.

“Well, I’ll leave that to you, because you seem to be doing the right thing about it. But even
more problematic is a teacher that upsets the moral foundation of the school. High school is a
very sensitive time, and teachers have to be good models for students,” The mothers all
nodded to each other in agreement. “A person who is rumored to be a homosexual can be
very inconvenient.”

I had a feeling that something like that would be said, but the shock of hearing it out loud was
so great that my mind went white, while the accusations continued. “You wouldn’t normally
want such a person in front of your students.” Said one of the mothers, looking like a model of
good sense, while others demonstrated their agreement.

“It’s a good idea to keep your private life private, because although it may be a human rights
issue, it’s not suitable to bring up in front of students...” Everybody nodded in agreement
except for me.

“I just... danced a waltz.” My voice came out weakly, because I am a weak person.

“My daughter complained that you’ve ruined your image.”

“The waltz and cross-dressing were done out of necessity, for Fujimi’s concert program.”

“Yes, I’m sure there must be some reason for that. However, we find it very strange that they
would do something that would discredit teachers in such a way. That’s insane.”

“What’s wrong with a waltz? Besides, it wasn’t something that I planned! It was a coincidence
that we were going to do the demonstration on the day the girls happened to be observing!”
As I retorted desperately my heart was filled with despair. They don’t have the slightest
intention of listening to me. All that mattered was that I had been branded a homosexual.

So when the Chairman said, “There’s no point in talking about it,” it wasn’t a shock.

“Well, just wait a minute,” I was rather surprised when the principal interrupted. “I’m sure
Morimura has his own reasons,” but the look of his eyes weren’t friendly as he searched me
for an excuse. Yeah, it’s just that you’re the administrator and don’t want to deal with having
gays on the faculty.
“I have nothing to be ashamed of,” I said. I know this will be taken to mean that I’m a
homosexual, since I’m not denying it or acting remorseful, but I couldn’t say anything else
when I know how seriously Tounoin loves me.

His disdainful comment, “I feel sorry for your parents,” was like the verdict at the witch trials.

“I don’t think we’ll need a recommendation from the board,” Said the chairman, and the
principal scowled at me.

“Yes, I’ll take care of it...” and then we were left alone in the principal’s office.

I was arguing with myself. Yeah... nothing to be ashamed of. The only thing I love about
Tounoin is that he is honest with himself and loves me, because he can only love men. He
loves me sincerely and seriously, and I chose to respond to him. We have nothing to be
ashamed of in our relationship except that we’re both men, and anyway, why can’t men love
each other? We’re not just some carnal assholes. When it comes to immorality, look at the
guys with wives who go out with hosts and escorts...

I noticed the vice principal was saying something to me. “What?” I faced him.

“So, I’m sure the principal will manage to convince the board to let you resign at your
discretion.”

“What will happen with the class?” My response was mechanical.

“Dr. Taguchi, who was on maternity leave, will return to work.” He replied flatly.

So... I guess that means I’m fired. “When will that take place?”

“Out of consideration for the students, we’ll wait until after the festival is over.” I was so angry I
wanted to scream, but my sense of responsibility was firmly rooted in me.

“Fine.” I answered, and started to head for the door.

“Oh, Morimura-san, we still had some things to discuss.”

“You fired me. I don’t have anything to tell them or you.” I found myself losing my temper.

“No, about practice. Please make it only go until 6 o’clock this evening.”
“Fine.” I opened the door and left, shutting it quietly and neatly. The chime went off that
announced the beginning of third period. At 1:15 the manager and deputy manager of the
brass club came to the preparation room as I had asked. I told them that the principal
informed me rehearsals would end at 6 this evening, and that the atmosphere was a bit too
dour when we’re so close to the big day, so the students should look after each other. I didn’t
tell them that I would be fired by the time the festival happened. Instead I told them that the
regular teacher, who had been out on maternity leave, would be returning to her position. I
explained that I was originally the substitute, and the recruitment deadline had come up a bit
earlier than expected. The deputy director looked like she wanted to say something, but after I
finished what I had to say I kicked them out. I don’t care what people are saying behind my
back; we’re only together one more week, and I have no more ambition to make my name
with the success of the festival.

It was two o’clock when I walked into the music room where students were singing and talking
excitedly. It became quiet as I started to take roll. “Where are Mizuno-kun and Kojima-kun?”

“I’m sure they’ll be here.... They didn’t say anything about being absent,” One of the class
leaders said.

“Well, it’s the last cultural festival for the third year students, so let them know they should
come to practice even if they think they don’t need to. Playing in an ensemble is a team effort.
Also, today’s rehearsal will only go until six o’clock, and it will be the same next week.” I took
off my glasses and placed them in my shirt pocket. I already had the scores memorized, and
without my glasses I’m better able to focus on listening; I also do this when I don’t want to
notice people’s expressions. “Let’s focus on the Holst pieces today. I’d like to finish Jupiter
especially. Let’s go straight through it first.” I held up the baton and closed my eyes. This way
I can feel how far the group has come, without being distracted by hostile looks. “Brass, stay
with my tempo… yes, very nice. Crescendo…”

After conducting for 8 minutes, I cautiously opened my eyes only at the end of the piece. “It’s
getting a lot better. The only things we need to work on are small details. Trumpet, your solo
could be played with more gusto, and horn you need to be tighter. Trombones, your staccato
isn’t consistent. Percussion can be more intense in some spots. Overall, try to play together
as a unit. So, let’s go back to the beginning.” Shake it out, I thought. Just shake it out and
repeat until the sound is more satisfying…

After an hour of hard work I lowered my baton. I put my glasses back on and looked around at
the students. As expected, the students awkwardly turned away from my glance. A litany of
possible explanations went through my head for why I couldn’t command their attention. I let
out a deep sigh, “It may not be possible for us to really make this piece complete, but I’m sure
you realize we can’t play well under these conditions. We’re going to take a break now, and
I’d like for any of you to come and talk to me, either individually or in groups, if you have
something to say. I’ll listen to you.” I went back to the prep room and waited. Ten minutes…
twenty minutes… nobody came. From the music room I heard the usual breaktime sound of
laughing and talking. I felt a painful sense of despair; I guess I was under the illusion that we
had something of a trusting relationship. I waited for a total of thirty minutes before going back
into the rehearsal room. “Okay everybody, we’re going to resume.”

As the students rattled back to their seats, a girl’s voice suddenly said, “Isn’t Tounoin-sensei
coming today?” Her voice was amused. Irritated, I thought, ‘Do you think I’m some sort of
clown, to make fun of?’

“Tounoin-sensei had to cancel because of some work with the M-Kyo Orchestra today.” Just
as I was switching out to the score for Venus, I felt a jolt in my stomach. I had to hold my
breath… nervous gastritis is no joke. I really hope this doesn’t happen for my solo with
Fujimi…

Suddenly one of the girls yelled, “Oh, it’s Tounoin-sensei!”

“What?” I looked at the door. There he was, standing outside the window next to the doorway.
The girls rushed to open the door. A group of boys looked up quickly. The tall man came in,
ducking under the doorframe.

“You’re a liar, sensei. You just said it was cancelled!” Hayashi-kun sneered at me.

“No, it’s cancelled.” Tounoin’s voice boomed in the room. He looked at me steadily with a firm,
silent glare that made the girls around him back away. “Let’s go home.” He continued. When I
didn’t respond, he said it again.

“What? Why?” One of the section leaders said. “Didn’t you come here to give us a lesson?”

“Well of course I could.” Tounoin replied. “But I’m not in the mood. I don’t have to teach
people with rotten minds like the lot of you,” he spat the words out with a disappointment I
hadn’t heard from him before, “you might as well throw out your instruments! You don’t even
know how to see the heart of a person, so you’re a hundred years too young to understand
this music!”
“You’re out of line, Tounoin!” I found myself interrupting him suddenly, “I cancelled today’s
lesson. You need to leave.”

“I’m not sure why you’re defending these people,” he said, his normally cool eyes becoming
heated. But I’m the person responsible for leading them, and I hate being told what to do
when they don’t know what’s going on! Tounoin glared at me grimly. “Slander, contempt,
alienation. That’s what’s going on here. I can see it in their eyes. No matter how sincere you
are, it’s useless.”

I glared back at him. “These kids have a performance in a week. This is the most crucial
time!”

“But --”

“Get out! Get out of here!” I yelled and pointed at the door. “If you don’t leave, I’ll have you
removed by force! We’ve been working on this for six months, I’m not ending it now.”

I could almost see him grinding his teeth, but Tounoin turned around to leave. “You’ll regret it,
Yuuki! In five minutes you’ll regret it.” He said as he walked out.

I turned back to my students and smiled at them with an unnatural calmness. “Okay, we’re
going to start from the top of Venus.” I pushed up my glasses and grabbed the baton, but held
it so hard it snapped in half. “Oh my, I’ve never had that much strength before.” I grabbed a
pencil to use in its place. My legs were shaking. “Let’s go.”

But nobody picked up their instruments. I sighed and lowered my arms. “It’s your right to
boycott the rehearsal because I’m gay.” Some of the students looked down at the floor.
“There’s nothing I can say if you want to cancel the concert. However, as somebody who
knows how hard you all have worked, it would be a shame to give up now. Taguchi-sensei is
going to return from maternity leave, so I will ask her to conduct for the actual concert. But
she can’t start until early next week, so I was hoping to continue filling in until then…” They
were all looking away. Their body language seemed to say that they didn’t want to listen to my
pretty words. I guess I was fired by them, too.

“I believe that music is not music if you don’t have fun with it.” I heard Yamashita-kun, a
first-year section leader say. He stiffened his shoulders.

“From now on, you can be the one to lead the group.”
“I… can’t do that!” The whispered reply made me feel another stab in the gut. Some people
laughed. Oh shit, my stomach… I held back my anger and replied calmly.

“So you would waste a half year’s effort? You’re a high schooler now, there’s no reason why
you can’t do it.” I got up and went to the prep room to retrieve my violin case. The rehearsal
room was quiet as I headed for the door.

“Se-sensei!” I stopped at the sound of an assistant section leader’s crying voice. “You’re
abandoning us?”

‘You all have abandoned me,’ I was thinking.

“It’s irresponsible!”

I held my stomach with one hand. Don’t get angry, she’s not the person to be angry with. But I
couldn’t leave it in silence. I responded with my back to her, because if I faced her I would
yell. “Isn’t it irresponsible of you to spread lies about me? You’re the ones abandoning this
group because you think I’m gay.”

“I didn’t do that!” Yes, that’s true, she wasn’t one of the ones who boycotted me.

“Either way, an ensemble can’t perform properly if they aren’t united in mind. My presence
has torn you apart. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing more I can do about it.” I opened the door
and left.

“Wait!” The assistant section leader called out.

“Kosaka, don’t bother!” The voice of a third-year called. I quietly closed the door.

I didn’t regret it, exactly. Having the chance to say what I wanted to say felt good. I regret not
being able to perfect their sound, but that’s not my fault. I didn’t do anything to them that I
should be ashamed of. After all, what should it mean to them if I have a relationship with
Tounoin? And yet… as I trudged down the empty hallway I heard the sport clubs in the
schoolyard. I tried to calm my stomach down, which by now felt like it was on fire. I was only
halfway through the day for such a sudden turn of events, but there was nothing else I could
do. It was all too much for me. And I really didn’t want to let my stomach get so bad that I
vomited blood and had to be hospitalized. Then I suddenly remembered that I had that fight
with Tounoin…
Yes, I do regret that. I had thought that I could rebuild my reputation by fighting with Tounoin,
who cursed those kids in front of them. Tounoin told me what I actually wanted to do, but I
treated him like the enemy and kicked him out. Maybe he could tell what I was doing. But he
was really angry when he said that I’d regret it… I’ve been really stubborn. A silly, stubborn
person. I’m sure he gave up on me because he saw the kind of person I really am.

Suddenly I felt like there was a gaping hole in my chest. Tounoin had given up on me, and the
emptiness showed me how much I really did feel for Kei Tounoin. I… love Tounoin. And I have
nothing to feel sorry for, especially after that grand gesture in front of the principal and the
others. The words I said to him earlier echoed in my head and an oppressive frustration
choked me. My legs began moving faster and faster until I was running, stopping only when I
reached the school entrance. But of course nobody was there. I was creating expectations for
myself again, thinking Tounoin would be waiting for me. ‘I knew you’d regret it,’ he would say
with a huff, he’d hug me and say ‘Let’s go home,’ and laugh at me with kind eyes. Probably
Tounoin will never give me a smile like that again. Maybe if I apologize…? Will I be forgiven if
I’m sorry? Would that make up for what I did to him? How can I be forgiven?

Still stifling my stomachache, I went out the school gates, driven by a sense of doom. I
glanced about everywhere, but Tounoin wasn’t there either. I slowed my pace. He’s a prideful
man, he wouldn’t forgive me for kicking him out like that in front of the class. There isn’t any --

I had just passed the big elm tree that marks the school bus stop in front of the high school
when I caught a tall shadow out of the corner of my eye. I turned around.

“How are you? You must have regretted it.” I was afraid it might be a daydream. “Why are you
looking at me like that? Did you ever think I’d leave you behind?” As soon as he murmured
that my knees began to shake.

“I… because I’m…”

His eyes were smiling. “Come on, let’s go home. Maybe stop at Fujimi for a hot cup of coffee.”

“...Kei!” I threw myself on him like a child on a mother’s apron, having uttered his name for the
first time except when we were dreaming in bed. His strong chest caught me and he wrapped
his arms around me tightly.

“What’s wrong with you? Have you been so horrible to me?” I pressed my face against
Tounoin’s chest, though no tears came out of my eyes, and breathed in his scent. “What
bullshit did those kids pull with you?” I switched my violin case from my right to left hands and
pressed into his warm body.
“I thought I was done for… that you’d given me up!”

“You were worried about that? Silly…” his large hand gently held my head. “I was about to fall
in love with you again, even before you said something so nice. Thank you… you know…”

That was unlike Tounoin, to speak so unusually soft.

“... your students over there have been watching for a while now.” He whispered to me stiffly.
“Do you mind if they watch the kissing scene?”

“Oh shit!” I quickly backed away from Tounoin and headed around the corner of a building. It
wasn’t until I turned the second corner that Tounoin caught up. “If you noticed them, why
didn’t you say something?”

Tounoin replied with a huff, “It was a scene I dreamed about, you know? I guess I should have
said something after the kiss.”

“I’m not kidding!” I yelled, and then I remembered that I already yelled at him once today.
“Well, I really didn’t mind…”

“Oh?” Tounoin tilted his head to the side with an expression that seemed to ask what was with
the change of heart.

This man understands me better than anyone else… he’s the person I trust more than anyone
else. So I decided to let him in. I whispered, “I was fired today. They say it isn’t appropriate to
have homosexuals as teachers. What a laugh, huh?”

“But your students don’t think so, do they?”

“What?” I looked into his smiling eyes.

“Even if you’re gay, I hope you’ll still conduct at the school festival.”

“It’s impossible…” I stammered and looked at the ground. “I figured Kosaka-kun told you, but
the other kids…”

“They told me that they would gather all the students for tomorrow’s practice if I would
conduct. But I’m not obligated to be the mediator.”
“But I...”

“I told Kosaka that you would probably leave on your own because my Yuuki is a
good-natured person.”

Really, now. “So you think we can get it together enough for the performance?”

“Right now you need to worry about whether you can get out of bed.” Tounoin frowned. “Is it
your stomach?”

“Oh, it’s okay right now. Since you waited for me, I’m cured.” Embarrassed with what I just
said, I quickly added, “I only have three weeks left until Fujimi’s concert, so I can’t let crap like
this keep me from getting sleep.”

Tounoin smiled, “That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Oh….” I blushed with realization.

Tounoin quietly whispered, “For tonight, I want you all to myself. Would you be angry if I told
you I wanted to skip rehearsal?”

“...As the conductor?”

“I’m human, after all.”

“I don’t know… I don’t think I’ll be able to play the violin tonight either.” I was still in shock. I
was exhausted, but what I needed right now was not Fujimi or the violin, but Kei Tounoin.

In the bathroom I made sure that my stomach was ok, but it didn’t seem to be complaining
about the hot sake or the yakitori from dinner. Tounoin was sitting on the bed, but when he
saw me enter he slowly stood up. A piano sonata was playing quietly in the background. The
room was filled with ha gentle darkness, and his beautiful male body was silhouetted against
the faintly bright window.

I approached him and I looked into his eyes as I dropped the bath towel that had been
wrapped around my waist. It wasn’t an invitation and it wasn’t not an invitation. Our tense
bodies embraced each other… lips to lips...tongues entwined… while he ravished me with
caresses and kisses.
He slowly sank down and enveloped my member that was helplessly standing from the
attention of his tongue, while giving a soothing finger to my gasping anus… pushing me.

“No… no... “ I pleaded breathlessly. “We… together…”

I could barely walk properly as I was led to the bed. He spread my legs high and wide, and… I
was exposed completely to his eyes, everything… all of my lust and shame… reflected in his
narrowed eyes. It was irresistible, oh…. Embarrassing… but irresistible… please. For the first
time, the thing that had tormented me so much and caused so much suffering, became
thrilling as it broke inside and filled me deeply. You are in me, not taken by force or given up,
but as a result of our mutual desire.

“Kei…” I whispered, barely more than a thought.

“Yuuki… my Yuuki!” His passionate whispers embraced my thoughts. “I love you… I love
you!”

Today’s incident was not small. But it taught me a big lesson.

I know it’s perverted.
I know it’s an anti-social act.
I know I’m an outsider who isn’t fit to be a teacher.
But I like this man, Kei Tounoin. I like him so much that losing him would be far more serious
than losing my job! The what and the why don’t really matter. I just can’t help it anymore. “Kei,
more! More… ah!” This younger, but much more mature lover, taught me the difference
between sex and making love. We hung on… seeking… and drowning in the feeling, flying
hand in hand from our climax together.

We remained entwined, and I listened to the powerful andante of Kei’s heart with his arm for
my pillow. I enjoyed the sensation as he stroked my back with slow movements from the
shoulder to the waist and back up. The limp, heavy exhaustion of a body completely
enervated from pleasure, with no regard for appearances or shame, is embarrassing yet
sweet….

“November 5th…” Tounoin’s baritone was husky.

“What is it?”

“It’s the anniversary of the first time you told me that you liked me.”
Instead of answering, I gave a memorial kiss. His gentle lips... soft breath… I was finally being
honest with him and my feelings… he whispered in my ear, “The first time you accepted me
was on October 4th…You gave me the coffee coupons on August 22nd… The first time you
came to my apartment by yourself was July 25th… it had been only a month…” since that
incident.

“I’m sure my vigilance wasn’t much of a factor.” I said, sighing intentionally.

Tounoin smiled. “You’re a meek person by nature.” His lips met mine, asking if I regretted it.

“No,” I replied with my lips, “But I don’t know how you remember so many dates.”

Kei laughed. “The first time I conducted Fujimi was on June 7th. You followed me as if you
wanted to attack my baton. I was convinced that you were a sincere and genuine music lover.
I was so happy. You were my type.”

I remembered what Ishida-san had told me about how Tounoin had come to be Fujimi’s
permanent conductor. “Before that, did you come to listen to Fujimi play? I think Nico told me
about it.”

“Yes, June 4th. The day I found my violin. The anniversary of the day I found out about you is
May 20th. While I was taking an evening walk along the bank of the Fujimi River I heard the
sound I was looking for: pure, full of passion, yet humble.”

My ears felt like they were burning, but I kept silent and listened. I was afraid he was going to
say more things that made me embarrassed -- how could he say such a straightforward
compliment so effortlessly? If it were me, I would have said it very shyly.

“I regretted not catching you right then and there. Because of that, I ended up stopping by the
Civic Philharmonic Orchestra. But the violinist I was looking for was not there.”

“Oh, so you found out from Nico in the Mozart cafe that there are two Fujimi orchestras here.”

“Your sound had been ringing in my ears the whole time. When I listened to your rehearsal
and heard it mixed in with the orchestral music on the other side of the door…” Kei continued,
his lips brushing against mine. “How thrilled I was, how filled with joy.”

“But I couldn’t even make it as a professional....”

“You didn’t get to become one. It’s not that you couldn’t be, you just didn’t get the opportunity.
In order to meet me, you had to keep your pure talent untainted by commercial music. You
are my first violin, as destiny has dictated.”

I wonder if there’s ever been a more flattering way to describe a lack of success. “What
fortune-teller told you that?”

Tounoin laughed merrily. “I only trust my instincts. And when it comes to music, I’ve never
been wrong.”

“You’ve lost your mind…” I sighed from the bottom of my heart. “I’m a sucker for flattery.”

“You think I’m flattering you?”

“Please, you have no idea how excited I would be if I thought I was enough of a violinist to
make a genius fall in love with me.”

“You really… you’re such an adorable person,” he said, hugging and kissing me.

“But I’m older than you…”

Tounoin laughed at me when I said that, considering how shy I was and also comfortable with
everything he was doing to me. “I turned twenty-three on August 8th, so I’m no longer
younger than you.”

“Only for half a year. I’ll be twenty-four on February 11th.”

He laughed at that unreasonable counterargument. “And then I’ll catch up in six months.”

“I don’t care how old you are,” I said. “You’re always leading in everything anyway.”

“Does that bother you?” Tounoin said sternly.

Suddenly I realized just how cute he was, and an unusual sense of mischief came over me. I
took him by surprise and began to suck his nipple. It felt good when I held it in my mouth, and
when I rolled my tongue over it, it tensed up. At the same time I felt my penis start to come
back to life.

“Huh? Ahhh…” Kei breathed out with an unconscious gasp. He quickly grabbed my hair. “Ah,
yeah… that’s it.”
“Is it good?” I twisted my hips as I continued to explore this new mischievous part of myself.

“Nngh!” he pressed my head to his chest reflexively. I continued to explore his nipples, while
positioning myself to insert his cock, which had completely regained its hardness. I moved my
hips only, lifting up a little and then coming back down on him again. The sensation of his
penis in my ass while feeling his nipples against my tongue was intoxicating -- I would never
have imagined doing something so shameful before. Tounoin was drowning in the feeling I
dared to push out of him.

“Is it okay?” I whispered, and my nails dug into his smooth back. “Is… is it good… not good?”

“I think I’m going to cum,” he said. “But… if you can…” Kei showed me what he wanted by
holding me down, and he regained control, thrusting up into me with a hard presto. He made
me gasp and writhe in agony, as if it were retribution for my attempt to take the lead. It drove
me crazy, pushing me to the edge and then diving from the peak until I came a second time.

—-

After that I fell asleep, so deeply that I didn’t realize morning had come. I overslept by an
hour, on the day we had our important Sunday rehearsal before the school festival.

I rushed into the rehearsal room, “Sorry I’m late!” Everyone in the brass ensemble looked
shaken up, and I remembered my position.

“The teacher shouldn’t be late!” the assistant student leader Kosaka cheerfully scolded me.

“Ah, yes… I’m sorry for --”

“Just because you’re a newlywed doesn’t mean you can forget about work, sensei!” I turned
bright red. The student who had said that was Kojima-kun.

Then the boys started up with their commentary: “Oh, that’s right, that’s right!” “That’s hot!”
“I’ve done it five times, you’re a pussy!” “I’m so embarrassed!”

“Oh come on you guys!” The only thing that made me blush even more was being teased by a
group of third-year boys who don’t think of teachers as teachers. “You guys…” Even if I
shouted angrily it wouldn’t do much good at this point.
“Ok everybody, please,” said Kosaka-kun, the only one with the energy to stand up to the
boys and quiet everyone down. “Sensei, we don’t have much time.”
It seems l need a protector everywhere I go... but that’s okay. I put my scores down on the
music stand that had already been set up for me and looked over the ensemble. All of the
students were lined up in their usual places.

“We’re all here, sir,” said Kosaka-kun.

“Thank you,” I nodded to them. “I’m really glad you guys didn’t give up on the performance.
Let’s do our best today.”

In response, the principal trumpet played a short burst of notes. Then the other trumpet
players responded to him, until everybody’s sounds shook the music room. ‘Oh man,’ I
thought, ‘I feel like I’m going to cry.’

“Okay, let’s start with the most difficult one, the Holst.” Since I had broken my baton, I was
using one that Tounoin let me borrow. All the students quickly readied their instruments and
prepared to play. Their mischievous way of showing their acceptance struck me with its
sincerity. “Oh, um…. Sorry, give me a minute.” My students waited in warm silence while I
took my glasses off and used a handkerchief to wipe my teary eyes.

It was hard for me to resist crying my heart out; teachers can’t be spoiled by their students,
Morimura-san. In return, I decided to reduce my expectations for Jupiter and Venus to a level
that I, as a musician, still find acceptable. I only had fourteen hours left with these kids, and
the only thing I could teach them now was how to make music. I wanted them to have a
sense of achievement after all their hard practice, and not just because they accepted me and
made me happy. It was through these students that I realized why Tounoin had used the word
‘pure.’ They were still kids — even if some of them were taller than me — and in their hearts
they were children who reacted with honesty. When I heard there were rumors of me being a
homosexual, I felt that the world gave me that reputation. And… perhaps Kosaka-kun and
others didn’t actually mean it, but I interpreted their actions as condemnation and imagined
what their opinions were without actually knowing. I had forgotten the innocence that children
can have. But they now recognize me and show their trust by following my lead, by trusting
my baton.

Yes, go with me! Even more! Okay, that’s better. As I was so deeply moved by the energy of
the ensemble, I noticed there was one student whose mood was cold: Ayako Mizuno. ‘I’ll
have to talk to her before I quit,’ I mentally noted.
I spent the fifteen minute break in the prep room thinking of whatever else I needed to make
the next hour of practice worthwhile. When I went to return to the rehearsal room, I realized
that my stomach hurt. It wasn’t exactly a stomachache, or diarrhea or anything like that, but
kind of a tingle. Just then the door opened and Kosaka-kun appeared, “Sensei, it’s time to
start…” I tried to convince myself that the pain wasn’t a big deal, but I became dizzy when I
stood up. “Sensei? You don’t look so good…”

“It’s nothing, just a little lightheaded from standing up.”

“You look pale.”

“Really it’s fine.” I nudged Kosaka-kun back into the rehearsal room and began the practice
again. However after only about 80 measures into Jupiter I started to feel sick, and didn’t think
I’d make it five more measures. I didn’t feel nauseous, but just completely enervated and
sweaty. I gave the sign to stop and staggered off the podium to the door. ‘I think I’m going to
throw up…’

“Sensei, what’s going on?” I heard commotion as students were getting up.

“Is it morning sickness?” One of the male students said in a grinning voice.

“Oh come on, this isn’t a time to be joking around. Oh, Sensei watch out!” I heard Kosaka say.
But the reason I almost fell down was because the door I was trying to open was opened from
the other side.

“Yuuki? What’s the matter with you?” I don’t know how somebody who wasn’t supposed to be
here managed to show up at this exact moment, but I pushed past him into the corridor with a
hand over my mouth to stifle my nausea. Tounoin helped walk me to the washroom in time to
throw up, but afterwards I had trouble standing. I felt better after vomiting, though. Tounoin
picked me up and carried me back to the rehearsal room.

“Sir, over here… what’s going on?... Is it anemia?... pull up a chair, quickly!” I heard students’
voices saying. I was carried into the prep room and laid down on a makeshift bed of folding
chairs.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why… suddenly…”

“It’s all right. Your complexion is looking better, but you must be tired. You have to rest for a
while,” Tounoin said to me.
“But… the rehearsal…”

“If it’s conducting I can do it.” Of course he could. How did he come to the right place at the
right time? Before I could ask him he had already gone to the students, and I soon heard
them resume playing.

‘Yes… crescendo there… okay bass, go easy. Sure. Crisp, yes, don’t drag the tempo.’ As I
listened I was mumbling advice about this and that in my mind, and realized that it was like I
was the one conducting. Actually, it sounds very much like my conducting…

For a period, ‘interpretation’ was popular in the classical music world. Nowadays it’s more
common for conductors to try and play pieces exactly as the composer wrote in the score
without adding too much of their own interpretation. But of course each conductor has studied
how to handle the subtleties that cannot be expressed by notes, symbols and musical words
alone, and so even the same piece played by the same orchestra will sound different.
Karajan’s Beethoven 9 and Hiroyuki Iwashiro’s Beethoven 9 will show their individuality,
because no two people — not even identical twins — are exactly the same, and everybody
has different musical tastes. This is because each person has their own way of thinking.
Besides, in artistic fields where one’s sensibility is the most important thing, people are
always concerned with showing their originality.

In other words, there should be a significant difference between my conducting and Tounoin’s,
even if mine isn’t particularly good. As I listened to it carefully, the sound I was hearing was
exactly what Jupiter sounded like in my head… the tempo, everything. I don’t know if it’s
possible for Tounoin and I to have such synchronized musical sensibilities. I have been very
devoted to his conducting for a while now, so perhaps I copied it unintentionally…? No, that
isn’t possible, I’ve never heard him conduct Jupiter. I wonder if a lover’s relationship can be
that deep and binding…

The answer to the riddle was discovered when the piece ended. “Sir, please be serious!” I
heard a student say.

Tounoin laughed, “ Is something wrong?”

“It’s like a mimicry contest!”

“Hmm, maybe I over-acted? I was trying to faithfully copy Morimura-sensei’s direction to the
letter, but perhaps I did too much.”
“It’s too much, too much, imitating our teacher’s habit, it’s hard not to laugh.” I heard the
student say. What kind of habit of mine did he mimic? I couldn’t see anything because I was
laying on the other side of the wall, but I heard everybody burst out laughing. It must be a very
strange habit.

“I see. But you know,” Tounoin said in a troubled voice, “this is the Jupiter that you and
Morimura-sensei have created. You must imagine that it is Morimura-san that is conducting…”

What a man, what a talent he has… to be able to conduct the way that I do, when he’s only
observed me once. And in such a way that even amateur students can recognize it. If he had
just done it his own way he probably could have created a more dynamic performance of
Jupiter. I’m sure his musician’s ego is tingling. For a moment I thought about asking him to do
it his own way, but then I decided against it. I don’t want to throw away everything we’ve built
up over the past 6 months, and I know that Tounoin cares about that as well.

“I understand,“ I heard Kosaka-kun say. I heard Tounoin laugh again. I wonder what kind of
habit I have… I figured it out when I
returned to the podium after the second
break. The students grinned at me and
demonstrated how I wave my bangs up like
they’re in a storm… good grief.

Afterwards, Mizuno-kun came up to me and

said she wanted to talk. We faced each other
in the prep room as the rest of the
students were noisily packing up to leave.

“Is it true that you were forced to quit?”

Mizuno-kun began.

“Um…” how should I put it?

“Taguchi-sensei wants to return to work. The
deadline for my contract was just moved up a
bit.”

“My dad is the PTA chairman.”

“Ah, I didn’t realize that,” I understood the

courage it took to confess such a thing. “I see.
Thank you for your honesty. But you didn’t lie about --”

“Please don’t tell me!” Mizuno squeezed her shoulders. “I don’t want to hear it.”

To accept her broken heart, Kawashima-san got drunk with me, and this girl (who doesn’t like
the teacher) revealed it through her body language. There wasn’t anything I could say, she
already knew everything. My words would only hurt her feelings more.

“It’s not fair…” she mumbled, “I wish you were more of a jerk.” Her expression changed.
“Don’t quit, Sensei. I can’t forgive myself.”

I felt the impulse to give her a hug, “It’s not your fault.”

“It is my fault.”

“Either way, my time here would have expired at the end of December.”

“Quitting properly and getting fired are two very different things!”

“I’m staying until the school festival. It’s okay to get a bouquet of flowers at the end of my job.”

“Sensei, I don’t think it’s as easy as you’re making it seem.”

“It’s not easy, but when I get upset I get a stomachache. I have two important concerts this
month, so I’m trying not to make a hole in my stomach.”

“What is the concert?”

“They’re more important to me than anything else, the cultural festival stage and the Fujimi
concert. I’m a musician, even if my part is small.”

“I don’t like teachers.”

“I can tell.”

“Sissy.”

“Maybe.”
There was a click, and Tounoin opened the door. “You’re not done talking yet?” Mizuno-kun
shook with irritation, but he ignored her and continued, “You’re tired to the point of collapsing,
so you’d better get home and rest.”

Mizuno-kun shook her head and went up to him, “Tounoin-sensei, did you know that
Morimura-sensei is being forced to quit?”

“Yes.”

Despite his flat response Mizuno was persistent, “Is that alright with you? For him to be
slandered and despised?”

“Trying to reason with a person that refuses to understand is an exercise in futility. To be

divergent is to have the courage to not fear isolation.”

“You’re kidding me!”

“I’m serious.”

“You’re joking. You teachers are men, and yet you’re running away like cowards!”

Tounoin laughed heartily, “Yuuki is too good to be allowed to babysit dumb high school girls
for too long, so I think it’s a blessing.”

Mizuno made a huffy sound, “Sensei, you’re such a mean person!”

“I just don’t care for the female of the species.”

“Well I don’t like teachers.”

“Thanks. Okay, shall we?” He turned to me with a bitter smile.

“Wait!” Mizuno-kun ran in front of Tounoin. “Kiss me! Just once!”

We looked at each other in shock. Mizuno was looking up at Tounoin with a serious
expression… but he reacted like he always does. “Unfortunately, I get an allergic reaction if I
touch a woman. Sorry.” He quickly moved around Mizuno.

“I knew it was a bad idea…” Mizuno-kun mumbled, then added bitterly, “Well, I’m going home
then. Bye, sensei.”
“Oh… goodbye.” I thought to myself, people are sure complicated. She probably had her
reasons for behaving the way she did, but I couldn’t even guess… I wonder if she got the
result she wanted, or if she was hurt. That’s why I didn’t say anything to her…
Kawashima-san, Mizuno-kun... I just don’t understand the minds of women.

—-

That night, we went back to Tounoin’s apartment, and on Monday I practiced there as well.
We’re not exactly living together, but since it’s a comfortable arrangement I end up practically
living with him. If I need anything I just go down to the sixth floor… so I guess I’m living in a
sort of two-story house.

Tuesday I didn’t meet up with Tounoin in the daytime, but planned to meet him at Fujimi
before rehearsal. “You’re early,” he said when I walked in.

“Yeah, we’re not supposed to practice past six o’clock,” I responded.

“This close to the concert?”

“The kids are all very enthusiastic, and I can keep myself in shape.” We continued talking
about such things while having our usual set meal for dinner and then headed together to the
Civic Center. The cross-dressing incident was on Thursday, and we didn’t practice on
Saturday on account of my being fired that day (though of course I made up some other more
appropriate excuse). So when I opened the door 30 minutes late for the rehearsal, I expected
some sort of commentary about the waltz.

But as soon as I stepped into the room, I heard the Wedding March from Mendelssohn’s
Midsummer Night’s Dream. In shock, I stepped back and bumped into Tounoin, who was
following behind me.

“What’s going on?” he said over my head.

“Oh! Stop, stop, stop,” Iida said, and waved a hand to stop the sound. The musicians from
M-Kyo and Fujimi, a total of fifteen people, began to hastily rearrange the chairs.

Kawashima-san quickly came over. She looked at both of us and said, “We’re having a
wedding.”

“Ah…”
“I’m not talking about you, or me,” she said, rolling her eyes. When she said that I felt myself
turn bright red involuntarily. “The daughter of our branch manager is getting married. So we
accepted a gig as a band for a wedding reception, 10,000 yen per person, on the condition
that all except for the Wedding March should come from our repertoire,” then she leaned in
and whispered to me, “Printing costs and the price of flowers has gone up so much that just
advertising alone won’t cover the concert expenses.”

“Oh, so that’s it…” Inside I was relieved, hearing all that scared the life out of me.

“So don’t tell our fussy conductor. If he finds out we’re taking on a job like this right now, I feel
like he’d preach at us ‘to please consider the upcoming concert.’”

“Are you?”

“I don’t want to be lectured on what to do,” said Kawashima-san, in a voice loud enough for
Tounoin to hear, and he backed off.

“That’s right, the annoying permanent conductor.”

“I’m offended, I wouldn’t say something that cold,” Kawashima-san said that because he knew
it, and so did Tounoin, a joke between adults.

“Heh… I don’t know what to say.”

“I see you’re not dressed to walk down the aisle tonight.”

“Oh come on, don’t do that. I’m never wearing a dress again.”

“A tuxedo will do. I can wear black and you can wear white.”

“You know what --”

I was about to say something witty back to her, but suddenly Iida said, “Concertmaster! Stop
skipping rehearsal!”

“I’m sorry!” I replied, and I heard Tounoin laugh.

That night Tounoin gave the Blue Danube the certification of “almost finished” and announced
that we would complete it at the training camp; it seems he’s serious about doing that dance
class. I think it’s a good thing, though.

——

The students in their gakuran and sailor suits filed into the gymnasium, taking their seats with
nervous faces. A murmur was over the seating area where the blackout curtains were closed,
but I could still feel the swarm of the crowd through the curtain. Tounoin was sitting
somewhere out there… oh, I feel uncomfortable… I dressed in a dark suit and white shirt with
a high neckline, which was very stuffy. I should have worn a shirt and tie…

“Sir, are you ready?” the pimple-faced broadcasting department student director asked me.
This is it. I nodded when I checked to see that the brass ensemble was standing by.
“Moderator, cue up!”

“OK,” the sailor-suited announcer coughed and flipped the microphone switch on. “3-2-1” That
was the cue.

“Thank you for your patience. We will now begin the third part of the program with the brass
orchestra.” The curtain crew, stationed at the far side of the stage, began to turn the curtain
handle at the director’s signal. It slowly began rising, and the brass ensemble’s entrance was
greeted by applause from the friends and family in the audience.

When the curtain was almost completely up, the director gave me the signal to come out. I
pushed my glasses up and stepped onto the stage, feeling my hands sweat from holding the
baton. “The conductor is Yuuki Morimura,” the announcer said, and I stood next to the podium
and bowed. I turned around and climbed up the step to the podium. Internally I was thinking,
‘Don’t look nervous, don’t look nervous…’ then I smiled at the ensemble. ‘It’s okay, you can do
it.’ Some of them smiled stiffly back at me.

“We’ll start with Nausicaa,” I said, and then raised my baton. I inhaled and everyone followed
suit when my baton went up, and then it started with the downbeat. My students gave it a
hundred percent. I was pleased with the success of the first piece, and in Your Only and
Teardrop Kiss they gave a hundred and twenty percent. Then it was only the Holst left; we
decided to put Venus and Jupiter in the order of the original Suite because Jupiter is more
‘major’ and powerful, a better piece to end the concert with. And when they played it, I felt like
my students had given the best high school performance I’ve ever heard.
Ah yes, fine! Bravo! I finished conducting and lowered my arms. A thunderous round of
applause hit my back. With a sense of satisfaction I stepped down from the podium and
tucked the baton under my arm. I also applauded and turned to the students, “I’m clapping for
your wonderful performance. Come on, stand up!” This applause is for all of you, accept it.
The students shyly stood up. It was Tounoin who gave the “Bravo '' to me. It was the perfect
compliment.

When the curtain came down after a reasonable amount of time, the applause became an
encore clap, continuing on and on. I was somewhat frazzled, and I hadn’t prepared a song for
an encore, but… “We have to do an encore,” I told the students, “Shall we do Your Only?” I
made sure that everybody agreed on that song before running over to the stage manager,
who hadn’t told me there would be encores allowed, so I wasn’t sure if the broadcasting
department was prepared for it.

But before I could say anything, I heard the department head say over the mic, “Well, thank
you very much for your big applause,” Judging from the audience response, it seems the
department head was quite popular with the girls. “I’m embarrassed to say, but we didn’t
really plan to have an encore.” No, wait, wait! I wanted to grab the mic, but he kept talking
without giving me a chance to step in.

After consulting with some other people backstage to let them know we would play again, I
heard, “Teacher, it’s your turn!” Kosaka was there, offering me my violin case.

“Huh?”

“Come on, hurry up! Even if you don’t know how it will go, we want everyone to hear you play
before you leave us. Come on, come on!” “Come on, sensei! Hurry up!” Kosaka-kun and the
other girls forced me to get my violin out, and I hurriedly started tuning.

“Kosaka, is he ready?” the department head asked.

“Yes, okay!”

He turned back to the mic, “Now, let’s hear Morimura-sensei’s violin solo. The song is --” he
turned to me, “Sir, what is the name of the song?”

“What? Oh… Humor… Humoresque. Hyoo-more-eske.” I pronounced it for him.

“The song is Humoresque. Let’s go!”

“Sensei, get out there!” “Go on, hurry up!” the students goaded me. They pushed me onto the
stage and then ran backstage, while the curtain rose quickly. It seems that this was planned
beforehand. After all, I didn’t bring my violin with me this morning… so Tounoin must have
had something to do with it. Totally! Maybe somebody came up with this prank because of the
violin-playing demonstration in the first-year music class. But since I’m now onstage with my
violin, I have to play. As a musician you have to be ready for anything, and I’m not going to be
humiliated just because I was caught off-guard. ‘So let’s go with this.’ I thought, and
acknowledged the muffled applause with a short bow before taking my position.

Humoresque is a very popular violin piece by Antonin Dvorák from the 18th century, and one
of my favorites. I won a gold medal with it when I was a music student at Otodai. And the
Amati copy I’m playing, now my favorite instrument thanks to Tounoin’s kindness, has a bright
sound that supports my technique completely. After playing my solo, I bowed to the generous
applause. ‘Now I’ve bought them some time…’ I thought, looking back at the brass ensemble
which had returned to the stage. Without waiting for me to conduct they began playing Your
Only, this time as a present for me, and it hit me straight in the heart. Afterwards all the girls
were crying and the boys were blushing as well, and I was handed a bouquet of flowers by
the always cheerful Kosaka-kun, who was also teary-eyed.

I realized that the reason they did this was not as a prank, but because they wanted a special
way to say goodbye to me. It was their own protest to the principal, the vice-principal, and the
PTA chairman — who were seated in the front row — and all the other people who had
decided to exclude me. They wanted to prepare a glamorous ending to my time with them.
With that, the intermission began and the announcer was talking about the upcoming program
in the background, while I was crushed with handshakes and hugs from all of the ensemble
members. Eventually the stage staff yelled at us and we were all kicked out of the stage door.

Outside the gymnasium, in the autumn afternoon sunshine we faced each other in a send-off.
“Thank you,” I said to them. “I enjoyed our time together, even though it was brief.”

“I liked your class!” one student said. “It was a lot of work, but it was worth it,” said another.
“I’m going to go to Fujimi’s concert,” said Kosaka-kun. All their kind words… It was like they
were trying to make me cry on purpose. Eventually she called out, “Brass club, line up!” and
with that, a pathway was made with me at the end, and I was presented with more flowers
while the group played ‘Hotaru no Hikari3.’ We hadn’t even started practicing that song. I used
the bouquet to hide my tear-streaked face, and walked to the school gate at the end of the
path, where Tounoin was waiting for me with my violin case.

3
Graduation song, to the tune of Auld Lang Syne
“Morimura-sensei!” I heard Mizuno-kun’s tearful voice call out. “I wish you happiness!” I turned
towards her and waved the bouquet with a smile, but everyone’s faces were so blurred with
my tears that I couldn’t tell who was who.

January 13th, Sunday - The anniversary of my retirement as a clinical music instructor

Part II: Manhattan Sonata
I was in trouble, definitely in trouble!

While playing the solo part of Mendelssohn’s violin concerto on my beloved Amati
reproduction, I tried to not let the inexplicable frustration rising in my head get the best of me.
But I couldn’t help but be irritated by the orchestra I was performing with; one person would
get something right… then I'd be disappointed as another person’s timing is off. Why can’t
they come in at the right time? I’m supposed to be focused on my solo and the orchestra
listens to me for their entrances.

But when I start thinking this way I feel ashamed of myself. The people who are making
mistakes aren’t doing it on purpose. They are working hard in their own way; they all have day
jobs, but even when they have to make sacrifices in those — which they depend on for their
livelihood — they still reliably meet like this for rehearsal. The orchestra rehearsal is their
hobby, and outside of these practices most of them don’t have the time or space to even
touch their instruments. They are fascinated by the charm of music, and they get together to
practice without thinking of the hardships they have to go through to do so. They really are
trying their best to perform as well as they can, and I know exactly how they feel. So it’s true
that it’s not a very good orchestra, but I like it, and it’s no exaggeration to say that I respect all
of the members. As a concertmaster and teacher I’ve always tried to improve my own poor
performance, but I’ve never felt this kind of negativity towards them, at least until now…

“Stop!” came the tall conductor’s baritone, causing me to huff and stop my bow. Damn it, who
messed up this time? But I can’t look back at them directly. I put my frustration in a shallow
breath and lowered my eyes to the floor instead of turning around. But Tounoin’s eyes were
looking at me. You made the mistake, they said (I didn’t!). I scowled back (I was playing
perfectly!), but Kei’s eyes didn’t change their sternness (I was thinking as I played). Ah… I
see… (I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful).

He turned back to the orchestra, “Now, from the top of the third movement.”

I matched Tounoin’s beat as if nothing had happened, but I began to think about how to make
this irritation disappear. When I caught the look in his eyes I tried to play indifferently. But I
wasn’t successful that day. With only two weeks to go until our first concert in two years, a
concert everybody was looking forward to with all their hearts… what am I doing?

Fujimi is officially called ‘Fujimi Citizen Symphony Orchestra,’ but there is another orchestra
with the same name in the same city. We are also called the Ni-chome Orchestra because our
office is located in the coffee shop Mozart in Fujimi 2-Chome. We call the other one ‘Civic
Phil’ and ours ‘Fujimi,’ but the name ‘Ni-chome Philharmonic Orchestra’ has the derogatory
connotation of being a neighborhood band of amateurs. Also, we take pride in the fact that we
are the original orchestra: it was formed much earlier, and we were given the title ‘Citizen
Philharmonic Orchestra’ by the city. There was also some conflict caused by the other
orchestra putting up a ‘Fujimi’ sign that was exactly the same as ours, but that mess
happened when I was still a junior high school student in the countryside, and didn’t know that
Fujimi existed. I heard about it from some of the older members of the orchestra.

Anyway, the self-proclaimed name ‘Fujimi’ is an expression of our tradition, which has never
wavered even if the other orchestra’s skill level is higher. I am Yuuki Morimura, the
concertmaster (and occasional choreboy) of Fujimi, as well as the upcoming concert soloist. I
am twenty-three years old and currently applying for unemployment insurance after being
fired from my position as a substitute high school music instructor — employment I was
supposed to have for a bit longer — due to the school’s prejudices. Since I’m a musical fool,
I’ve decided to look at the situation as part of God’s plan, so I can dedicate myself 24 hours a
day to music in preparation for the Fujimi concert on November 27th. Now I really have no
reason to disturb the tension before the concert. I have to stay positive…

Unlike last Thursday, when suddenly Fujimi’s inferiority as an orchestra hit me, and I’ve been
unable to ignore it ever since. I think it’s unfair, but I can’t erase my frustration with the people
of Fujimi, whose ineptitude becomes more and more apparent the more I listen to them. Far
from being able to ignore it, I can barely keep my head on my part. We only have two more
weeks until the concert: the day after tomorrow, the training retreat on Saturday and Sunday,
and the rehearsals on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday of next week!

“We’re done,” Tounoin said in his usual way of ending rehearsal, and I finally felt free of the
painful struggle, but also a sting of guilt. I’ve given up on this one, my hands are tied. I
gathered my music and went to Tounoin, who was leaving the podium.

“Do you want to go for a drink?” I asked him.

Tounoin looked at me with a puzzled expression, but nodded, “Where would you like to go?”

“I need to get out, like out to Midorigaoka.”

“Okay,” Tounoin replied.

His first name is Kei, and he’s been Fujimi’s permanent conductor for five months now. He’s a
genius in both musicianship and leadership, and is only 23 — half a year younger than me —
yet he’s ahead of me in every way. He is also my friend and lover; Kei and I are just
concertmaster and conductor in the orchestra, but privately we embrace each other in a
shared bed. I asked him out for a drink because he is the only person who can listen to my
irritating problems, and particularly in this situation Kei is the only one I can talk to. Besides, I
was hoping maybe Kei could come up with one of his astonishing solutions. His insights don’t
come from just music, but from everything else. He may be younger than me, but I know that
his experience in things is much bigger and deeper. That’s what makes me comfortable
asking him for advice, and this problem needs to be resolved sooner rather than later.

As usual, Kei and myself, along with a couple of other orchestral members who don’t mind
staying after, cleaned up the rehearsal room. We said good night to each other and left the
room, which we rent in the Civic Center — apparently most Japanese orchestras experience
such a poor environment. But at least we have that rehearsal space…

As we walked alongside the road to the train station, Tounoin asked, “What’s wrong? You
usually don’t want to drink, so it seems like something is on your mind.”

“Yes…” I said meekly. I don’t need to be stubborn or pretentious in his presence… this tall,
handsome man, with the looks of a young Karajan. His baritone voice is powerful when he’s
angry, but it's usually very calm and pleasing to the ear.

“You weren’t into your performance tonight at all.”

“Yes, it was rough. I wonder if Iida-kun noticed, since he’s already reached his own technical
perfection.” Iida-san is a sub in Fujimi, since we were lacking members for this concert. He’s
the leader of the subs that were brought in from the renowned M-Kyo orchestra, where
Tounoin is the sub-conductor. His personality is a little rough, but he’s a solid cellist.
“Since you mentioned it…” I muttered with a sigh. I had a feeling he was going to say
something like this.

“Do we have to go to Midorigaoka?” He asked.

“No,” I replied, “anywhere but here.” I didn’t care as long as we were somewhere where there
was no chance of Fujimi’s people hearing about my problems.

“Well then, let’s go a little further.” With that, Tounoin stopped and raised his hand towards the
red light of the empty taxi that had just pulled up.

I don’t know where we drove to, but when I exited the car we were in front of an old
retro-looking building in a shopping district I didn’t recognize. At first glance I thought it was an
expensive clothing store, with the formal dresses that were in the window. It seems to be a
custom-made clothing shop, and Tounoin went in the stairwell that was alongside the store.
The door made a cheerful sound as Tounoin pushed it open, reminding me of the coffee shop
Mozart that was owned by Fujimi’s caretaker, Ishida (or Nico, as he was called). The
atmosphere inside reminded me of it as well, with the unique smell of a shop that has been
through the years. But… it’s very rare to find a restaurant that’s this old. This place is even
older than Nico’s place; wooden tables, wooden chairs with folk art cushions on top, a counter
with no sealing. The ceiling was blackened with old cigarette smoke and the fans on the walls
were dyed with the same grimy color. In the corner of the store an old steam stove was
working. We walked through the restaurant, which had about half the tables occupied. I
noticed that there was a piano on one wall.

All the corners of the tables were rounded from use, covered in cup stains. Tounoin and I sat
against the wall at a table for four. The place had an overwhelming rustic feeling. “Welcome,”
a young waiter — probably a part-time worker — said as he placed a well-worn menu on the
table.

“They have sake,” Tounoin said. There was a whole line of scotch, bourbon and
western-liquor cocktails… with Kiku-masamune4 listed at the bottom.

“Doesn’t seem like the atmosphere for that,” I replied.

“Well, how about Cutty Sark?”

“Anything is fine with me.”

“Do you still have my bottle?” Tounoin asked the waiter.

“Yes.” The immediacy of the reply implied that Tounoin was a regular here.

“And some cheese and nuts,” I added. When the waiter disappeared to fill our order, I looked
around the restaurant. I noticed a poster for a Fujimi concert on the wall next to the counter. I
recognized it, as Ishida-san and I had negotiated with the printer on the cost for those 200
posters. “That poster…” I pointed to it, and Tounoin turned to look.

“What is it?”

“So is this place by any chance Ontsubo pub?” I asked.

4
Brand of Sake.
“Oh, yeah.”

He must have been the one that took out the ad… in the concert program there was one shop
that I didn’t recognize, and that was Ontsubo pub. The “Classic Sound Jar” pub’s address
was a whole city away, and I remembered wondering why anyone would bother putting an ad
for somewhere so far away from Fujimi-cho.

This isn’t good... “I wanted to talk about the Fujimi members off the record,”

“Yes,” Tounoin nodded, “That’s why I chose this place,” he said. The waiter from earlier left a
glass of water and the snacks on the table, along with refills. “First of all, a toast to Fujimi,” he
continued.

“We wish the concert every success,” I replied, raising my glass and taking a drink. The
whisky and soda was thick and made my stomach burn.

“This is a place where classical music enthusiasts gather, as well as musicians. So…”
Tounoin gestured with his narrow eyes to a table next to us. There were three middle-aged
salarymen around a bottle, one of them shouting.

“That’s why that top is such a fucking idiot!5”

“Well, I understand your feelings,” replied the other, in a way that seemed more inflammatory
than soothing. “Right? Right? That son of a bitch just assumes his tempo is right! Where is it?
Even if the conductor signals that he’s late, he doesn’t even notice. It’s like he’s going out of
his mind.”

It seems I’m right in the middle of several bitchfests. I turned to an outburst of laughing from
the table on the other wall. “That woman!” “Yes, with that face!” the five people laughed
together. “Well, absolutely! No wonder sopranos are oh-so-self-conscious!” At each of the
men’s feet there was an instrument case.

“Hey!” the guy at the table next to us shouted at some others, “What are you talking about?”
“Your bad language!” Another table yelled back, “Your trumpet playing sounds like pig
squeals!” Another man said, “Well what about your viola playing?”

Suddenly there was a loud knock. It sounded like a judge’s gavel, and the person using it was
an old man with a stern face who stood behind the counter. “That’s the master here,” Tounoin
told me, “and I’ve heard he was one of the pioneers of the M-Kyo orchestra. The conductor

5
The top or outside player, the lead part
there was one you couldn’t raise a hand to in the orchestra, so here is where they could come
to do their complaining. That’s what this place is for.”

I took a sip of my strong drink, “So what I wanted to talk about…” I said, hesitating, and then
lowering my voice.

“The concerto… do you think we’ll be able to get it together in time for the concert?” He
smiled with only his eyes, and swirled the ice around in his glass with a clink, “I thought it was
about time you said something about it. Is your patience running out?” He already knew what
I was upset about and what I wanted to discuss.

“Well, yeah… but… I’m also frustrated by myself,” I raised my voice a little to project over the
burst of laughter that erupted at the table next to us, “The fact that Fujimi is not very good at
this piece can’t be helped. It’s the kind of orchestra that wants to enjoy the process of making
music even if they’re not always successful. And I like that kind of Fujimi, that’s why I’ve been
with them for 5 years. Technique is secondary, and it’s more about fun. That’s why…”

“In some way you don’t mind, but you can’t help but hear their flaws,” he spoke for me,
nodding his head.

“I don’t think that I should feel that way, so I wondered why… and to be frank, half the
orchestra can’t really keep up with my solo. But then again, I still have a long way to go with
my own part. All I care about is the orchestra.”

“If you really thought you weren’t good enough, you wouldn’t be saying things like that.” His
words made me feel like I had been slapped. He could read my true feelings perfectly, that
were hidden deep in the part of me that I am most ashamed of. My face fell, feeling my ears
get hot -- not from the alcohol, but from his words. I gulped down the rest of my drink to
continue my confession.

“From your point of view I must seem terribly conceited. That’s why --”

“Your solo has been completed to the level that you could play with anyone. Well, I’m not
saying we could do it with Berlin, either.” While feeling the intoxication from the liquor coursing
through my blood, I stared at Tounoin’s handsome profile as he refilled my glass.

“Because you say things like that… I don’t like it when people look at me and say, ‘you’re
good at this.’ I never tried to be that kind of musician.”
“If that’s the reason why you’ve continued to do Fujimi, then that’s hypocrisy.” It felt like he
had performed the karatake-wari sword stroke6, which is neither reserved nor unforgiving. I
grabbed my glass and downed it, but his blade was still cutting me, “People who think they
are humble usually are more arrogant inside.”

“So are you saying I’m….?”

“The more you think you are humble, the more you try to be humble. No, in your case, you
were naturally withdrawn before reaching that point.”

Eh? What are you saying? “I’m not sure.” The whisky and soda was a little too strong, and I’m
a lightweight.

“Your dilemma now is that you are beginning to gain confidence in your own talent.”

“I knew it. So…”

“It’s not conceit, it’s confidence that you should have had. You’re just trying to finally make it
your own now. I’m sure it’s just part of your personality…. But you thought you were an utterly
crappy violinist, and it does your talent a disservice. If you ask me, it’s a mystery why you
didn’t become a professional. You can stand up well enough as a soloist on your own merit.”

“Be careful. You’re a good flatterer, Tounoin,” I said suspiciously, “And your flattery is
corrupting me.”

“I’m not flattering you, and you’re not corrupt.”

“I am!” Oh, I said that quite loud. “I think I can play Mendelssohn. I think I’m good at playing
Mendelssohn because you flatter me. That’s why now I’m so annoyed by the bad
performance, why do I have to get dragged down by the orchestra! I’m Fujimi’s friend! But
even though I’m the soloist, I can’t help but wish for a better orchestra!” In my drunkenness I
was blurting out all the frustrations from the past week.

He replied, “That’s natural.”

“Yes, of course!” I shouted, now quite sure I was drunk, but it didn’t matter. Once I was freed
of the taboo I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Why did I go to music school for four years if I

6
Karatake Wari 唐竹割り is a bamboo-cutting stroke, where you cut straight down onto a big piece of bamboo, but without
cutting all the way through. The force of the cut is such that the remaining power splits the bamboo all the way to the
bottom.
couldn’t be better than those amateurs? I’ve been playing since I was nine! Fo-fourteen years,
devoted solely to the violin!” I gulped to moisten my throat and continued. “But you know,
that’s why I never thought Fujimi wasn’t good enough. No, I always thought I was bad at it,
but not really. It’s true.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I didn’t really care about the compliments, I just kept talking, “But I can’t have a concerto. I
think Danube and Finlandia are great, and Eine Kleine is good. I think they sound great, even
though they’re more amateur, but they can make them sound good. But not a concerto. No,
they’re not good enough. The only people following me are the M-Kyo members! In that case
it’s not a Fujimi concerto!” I slammed my hand flat on the table and looked into Tounoin’s face,
feeling the smoothness of the old wood on my numbed palm.

“Hey, Kei, why is that the only sound that comes out? Why haven’t there been fewer
mistakes? Why is Fujimi so bad at it?”

“You know why,” he answered.

“Yeah I know, I know, but --!”

“The problem is your feelings,” he said, and I looked away from his face.

“Speaking of my feelings… I’m sick of it. I can’t do it with that orchestra. You can’t just stand
out on your own, you have to do it together. That’s what makes it a concerto.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to let Fujimi get better at it.”

“Yeah…. Yes, that’s right. But…”

“Or do you want to move on to a better orchestra?” The words cut right to my heart. I hadn’t
allowed myself to think that, but I knew that thought had existed in the pit of my stomach. No,
to say I hadn’t actively thought of it was deceiving myself, hypocrisy.

“...I… think about that, I get frustrated sometimes while playing… but I can’t allow myself to be
that kind of person… I would be the same as those who left for the Civic Philharmonic
Orchestra. It’s wrong to deny Fujimi’s passion for music just because they aren’t good at it…”

“So, do you commit suicide or abandon them?”

“Hmmm… yeah, those would be the choices… but if I, for example, transferred or something
like that... I’m not sure another orchestra would let me play a solo. Heh, I have no idea. The
reality is that Fujimi is all I have.” From the corner of my eye I saw a bottle with a yellow label,
half of it emptied. I wondered when he drank so much… come to think of it, I’ve never seen
Kei drunk. It must be nice to be a good drinker. I leaned my elbows on the table and looked at
his sober face. “I’ve always wondered why you’re at Fujimi. You get to hear M-Kyo’s sound,
don’t you ever get tired of Fujimi?”

“I’m buying Fujimi,” he replied. “If a Cleveland-style orchestra comes out of Japan, I think it
will be Fujimi under my baton.”

“Cleveland…” which is now a world-class orchestra, regarded as one of the best, was
originally a citizen’s orchestra in rural American that blossomed under the great conductor
George Szell. “ I didn’t know you had such ambitions…” Fujimi to the Japanese Cleveland
Orchestra…. I lifted my glass and let my melted ice clink.

“Ten years… maybe twenty years…” with the noise from the surrounding tables in the
background, his soothing baritone said, “I started my musical career at the piano. I started
with that, but once I learned to play I got bored and moved on to the violin, then the cello and
the horn, but none of them satisfied me. Until I found this one, the ‘orchestra’.”

I looked at him and Tounoin nodded, “Yes. The piano is good, and the violin is wonderful. But
when you add piano accompaniment to the violin, the depth of the piece is squared. When
violin and piano are accompanied by the orchestra, the depth of the piece is increased
dozens of times. And nothing has a greater variety of tones than the orchestra. That’s why I
abandoned my instruments and chose the baton: I wanted to play the huge instrument called
the orchestra.”

“But two million violins can make two million different sounds. Like with the Amati, you can’t
beat the sound it produces.”

“Yes, with the violin that is true. The other instruments as well. They all have their own
limitations, and their excellence and limits are determined at the time they are made. But the
orchestra is different, even if it is born from very little it can grow if the members have a strong
passion. That is why I want to raise Fujimi in this way. They have the talent.

“Of course, as you said, it will take some time. And I don’t think I’ll be able to make any
significant progress before this concert. But I want to build the best instrument in the world
with my own hands, and Fujimi is great material to work with. It’s the perfect material.”
Fujimi, like Cleveland, eh? “I’d like to say yes… but you know the sound that you’re getting
now isn’t even close to being good enough, and it’s only because of the support of the M-Kyo
that it’s as good as it is.”

“They’re already members of Fujimi’s group.”

“I thought they were guest musicians, hired for the run-up to the concert.”

“All of them have submitted their registration. That was one of my original conditions.”

As I was listening, I thought ‘Oh, I’ve had too much to drink.’ My thoughts are scattered.

“I asked for ‘those who want to be in my orchestra,’ and told them about the current situation
in Fujimi, and then admitted only those who volunteered and were confident enough to follow
my plan. The result was the eleven players we have now.”

“You… you mean you decided to improve the sound by adulterating it?”

“The train’s not quite full yet.”

“Then, are you going to increase the members that way until the strings are doubled?”

“Yes, that’s the plan,” he said.

I gathered my fluffy scattered thoughts. “But then it won’t be Fujimi.”

“Can you get others to join the Fujimi group?”

“But you’re saying we should hire more professionals like the ones from M-Kyo. Then they’ll
take over.”

“Why? After all, you’re not a guest, you’re a member of the group, right? And you wouldn’t
reject one who comes to you, would you?”

“But then there will be no place for the current poorer members.”

“Why not?”

“Why?” Ugh, my head is disorganized… I can’t put my thoughts together and I’m sleepy. But
somehow… I need to refute that. “Because I mean, let’s say there are 30 people who are bad
and 20 people who are good. So the average score is… well, I’d say it’s about 60. But when it
comes to doubling the strings in the way you’re suggesting…”

“30 are bad, 40 are good.”

“... I guess. Uh… well, no. I mean, the ratio is reversed. That means the level would go up.”

“Well, yes.”

“So that’s the problem. If the level rises suddenly, the bad ones won’t be able to follow. It
won’t be fun anymore and then they quit, and that’s something that Fujimi shouldn’t do to
people. Do you understand?”

“But, for example, hasn't the contrabass already reversed?”

“Nico is always a positive person. And Igarashi-kun is used to that sort of thing because he’s
in college, so he’s fine.”

“Then what about the violas? Utsumi plays quite well, but Kimura is barely better than a
beginner. But her attitude has not changed since the reinforcements arrived.”

“Hmmm… but women are so self-conscious, right? Who knows what’s going on inside their
heads?”

“Well at least they don’t seem to feel the effects of the type of bullying you’re talking about.”

“Hmm~... Tamma, little tamma.7” I splashed some water into an empty glass and gulped it
down, and it took a second to clear my head. This is serious, we have to think about it and
talk about it properly… and yet I can’t… I went to get up, and felt myself wobbling. I just
thought I’d take a break and lied down on the table. ‘Hey, there’s somebody playing the piano.
It’s just an upright, but it’s making a hell of a sound…’

I remember hearing, “Morimura-san, let’s go home,” and replying with a grunt. I was the
prisoner of sleep.
___

7
Tamma: calcium carbonate, but also slang for “just a minute.”
I woke up to the sensation of being kissed. Ah… no… the mouth tastes like alcohol… my
tongue is thick and sleepy, but I still respond.

“What time is it?” I kept my eyes closed and listened, hoping to get more sleep if I could.

“It’s nine o’clock, drunkard.” The time wasn’t what caused me to bolt upright, it was the voice
that I didn’t recognize.

“Who’s that?” It must be the one who kissed me, who I assumed was Kei. The hair was stiff,
curly and roughly cut, and underneath a grin twisted his heavy stubble-flecked face.

“That was nice, honey,” he said, looking around. I was sure I was in Kei’s room, but Kei wasn’t
there. Underneath the blanket I was wearing a shirt and briefs. The man in front of me had
broader shoulders than Kei, with a muscular chest in a work shirt, and an overall grizzly vibe.
His eyes were staring at me like licking tongues. I hesitated, wondering if I should run, when
at the same moment the man jumped at me.

Grinning, he caught me and pushed me down into the bed!

“Nonononono!” I yelled and tried to push him away with my arms, but I felt that his weight and
strength were higher than Kei’s. “Damn it, let go of me, you bear-man!” I snapped at him as I
struggled. The man snickered.

“You’re pretty energetic, aren’t you honey?”

“I’ll let you stop there,” I heard Kei’s voice reply. Why didn’t he call for help?

“Who the hell is this bear?! Stop looking around like that and do something!”

“Yes, yes,” he said, “I was taking a shower.” Kei, dressed in a bathrobe, popped the man on
the shoulder as he came over with a wry smile. “Takamine, Morimura-san isn't used to jokes
like that.”

“Ah, yeah. He’s cute.” Said the man, and he grabbed me by the nape of the neck and rubbed
his cheek against me.

“Ow, that hurts. Tounoin!”

“If you joke around too much, I’ll take you out,” Kei said very calmly.
“Who, me? You?”

“I can break a few fingers if necessary.” I thought things were going to get rough, but the man
relented.

“All right, all right.” He got up and moved out of the way. I hastily pulled the blanket over my
bare lower body.

“Who are you?” I asked, irritated. They seemed to be pretty close friends, and I could tell I
was being teased.

“His name is Ikushima. He’s a pianist,” was Tounoin’s reply.

“A genius pianist,” added Ikushima.

“So?”

“I found him last night at Ontsubo,” said Kei.

“I thought you told me to come and stay.” He responded.

“He followed me because he was kicked out of his apartment.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. You can have a good time, just eat for two.” I looked at the two
towering men; Tounoin shot 190 over par, and Ikushima as well. However, compared to Kei
who was tall and slender, Ikushama’s body looked huge. Not bulky, but just big, like a
professional wrestler. Of course he’s a villain. And both of them looked like they didn’t care
how I was feeling after being teased, even Kei. I was seriously scared that I was going to be
raped, in addition to him stealing that kiss!

Cautiously I moved the blankets out of the way and got out of bed. I put my clothes on, which
were piled up on the floor. My glasses were on the shelf with my violin case. I put the glasses
on and picked up the violin.

“You’re going home?” I heard Tounoin’s voice say.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Hey, what’s for dinner?” I dug my feet into my shoes when Ikushima asked me the question,
and left the apartment without answering. As the door was closing I heard him say, “You’re not
very friendly.” I don’t know what Kei’s reply was. Either way, the fact is that he didn’t try to stop
me from leaving in anger.

As I tried to clear my hungover body and pissed off mood in the shower — more pissed off
than hungover — I wondered what kind of guy he was. A pianist… I don’t mind. Pandas play
the piano, apparently bears can too. It’s not uncommon for people to call themselves
geniuses. When I was in music school I had a couple of friends who were like that. But only
one in maybe ten truly believed that. The question is, who is that guy to Kei? I was shocked to
hear how that happened. And then he kissed me out of nowhere, so I didn’t have time to
register what was happening, but… maybe Tounoin didn’t want him to know we were in a
relationship. That’s right, he called me ‘Morimura-san.’ I’m sure Kei was probably inventing a
scenario in which he spent the night with a drunken friend or something like that. I hope I
didn’t screw it up… yeah, I think it’s a lot better. I left the bathroom feeling better and
physically refreshed.

Wearing the clothes from my closet, I hesitated when I went to the kitchen, thinking…. I don’t
have any obligation to feed the bear-man, and I don’t want him to be a snake, but ever since I
lost the job at the school and have free time, I’ve been taking care of Kei’s meals. After all, the
only thing that’s safe for Kei to do is put coffee in the percolator. And it’s a coincidence that we
live above and below each other in the same apartment building… it wouldn’t be so odd to
have a ‘meal’ if I were to apologize for being an inconvenience. If I’m going to take food, I
can’t just take it for one person, which is pretty annoying. It’s a good thing you’re a friend of
Kei’s… so I guess I’ll have to figure out how to get along with him. But damn it, that kiss! I
can’t believe I didn’t realize it wasn’t Kei, even though I was practically asleep. Oh… I’m going
to hate myself.

I prepared five cups of rice in the electric rice cooker and turned it on. The rest of the meal
was miso soup since there was still oden in the kitchen upstairs, so all that’s left are
vegetables. I boiled fried tofu and shredded daikon radish in the soup while quickly chopping
up cabbage and carrots for roasting, then grabbed the miso pot and left the apartment. I went
up to the 7th floor and opened the door. It seemed quiet.. Kei was doing his usual music
studying, and Ikushima had the nerve to lie on our bed. When I entered the room he sprang to
his feet and said, "Food?” in a thoughtful, childishly delighted voice.

“I’m afraid I put you through a lot last night. When I get drunk I tend to pass out. I still have a
hangover and don’t feel good.” With all this said, any doubt about what kind of relationship we
have should be cleared. And the reason I unconsciously answered to a man’s kiss was on
account of being drunk.
I went into the kitchen and unloaded the miso pot on the microwave, casually opening the
oden pot while I was at it. Arara~ it was empty.

“It was good,” I heard his bear-voice say, and I looked back at him with disgust. “You’re a
good cook.”

I wasn’t sure whether to respond to how rudely he said ‘you’8 or the compliment, when he
suddenly came in and grabbed the lid off of my miso soup. He sniffed it, “The broth is made
with mackerel flakes, right? I’m sure you’ll be able to make the soup.” He grabbed the ladle
and snatched some up.

“I’m making rice and side dishes, too.”

“Just tasting.”

Ahh, no… please, don’t put the ladle in your mouth! Oh, no, don’t throw it back into the pot...!
It’s like an indirect kiss… well, actually more direct. When I remembered that I had enjoyed
kissing another man besides Kei (even if I was too dazed from waking up to realize), I felt
very depressed. The next thing I knew, Lord Bear was looking at me. When our eyes met he
grinned, “Food?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” I turned and staggered out of the kitchen. I walked past the
single-minded Kei, stomping angrily, to go back to my apartment for rice and side dishes.

Damn it, my plans got all messed up! I have to make something to replace the Oden.
Returning with the full rice cooker and a frying pan filled with meat and vegetables, my hands
were completely full. How could I open the door? Just as I was thinking this, the door opened
from the inside. “Here it is!” Of course, this bear must be as perceptive as any wild animal. Kei
was still in the middle of reading, so I tried to sneak into the kitchen without bothering him.

“Hey, Tounoin, it’s time to eat!” I winced at the blunt bear voice.

“You can’t do that when he’s reading music!” I said, but the bear grabbed Kei’s head in his big
hands and shook him roughly.

“Hey, food, it’s food!” As expected, the single-minded Kei looked completely freaked out, and
glared at the bear with the awesome look I had predicted.

8
Ikushima used the omae form of you in Japanese, which is perceived as a rude form of address unless the speakers are
friends.
“What’s going on?” Kei’s line was more than a little grumpy, but Lord Bear seemed unfazed.

“Food,” and lo and behold, Kei’s eyes relaxed and he formed a bitter smile.

He stood up, saying, “I hate being disturbed by food,” but his tone was more grumbling than
angry. The last time I did the same thing to him, he glared at me and said, ‘No thank you.’
Even though he had been concentrating for a long time, and I had been worried and called for
him… ‘No, thank you.’ Well… what’s the difference?

I had prepared enough food for four

people. The bear-man sat down and
proceeded to gulp down enough for
three people, while Kei ate with silent
disinterest.

“Refill,” the bear-man shoved his teacup

unceremoniously at me, and I opened
the empty rice cooker.

“Sorry, we’re out.”

“What, already?”

“I made five cups of rice!!”

“Hmm, there’s no shortage of good food

in this world.”

“Well of course,” I’m glad he thinks the

food is good, but you can’t just eat the
portion for three people by yourself!
My meal is… damn it, I don’t want to
make it again. I guess I’m eating
ramen. Lord Bear and Kei put their
chopsticks down. I quickly stood up.

“Are you finished?” Tounoin didn’t answer me, but left half of the rice and side dishes and left
the kitchen.
“Oh, you’re a small eater, aren’t you?” Said the Lord Bear in an amazed tone, pulling over the
food that Kei had left. “This is so good!” I’m sure he was praising me, but it was no use trying
to make me happy in this situation.

“It’s our rule to not disturb music practice. We don’t mess around like that.”

The bear replied to me, gulping down the last of the vegetables, “He’s always been nervous,
you know, and nothing’s ever enough.” He looked straight at me when I tried to retort, and
shook his head. “You’ll have a hard time, too. What do you say, want to switch to me?

“Huh?”

“You can make three meals… in return you’ll get me night and day with my hard technique
until you're drained. I’ll take care of you real good.”

“Wha —“

“I may not look it, but I’m a much gentler guy than that idiot, and I have better technique.”

“What the hell kind of nonsense is that?” I kicked my chair back and stood up.

“Ah it’s boring to stand up to that guy.”

“I-I-I’m not gay!” I said and headed for the door.

“Lies.”

“I’m not lying!” To punctuate my comment, I slammed the kitchen door shut as hard as I could
and hung my head. “Kei, I’m sorry.” I said quietly to Kei’s back. He fumbled the back of his
head as he was studying the score, and made an angry growl without turning around. The
words I’d spat out stuck like thorns in my heart. ‘I’m not gay’... a line I had said many times
before — even to Kei — but this time I am lying. But I had to say that to hide our relationship
and… in actuality, I still don’t want to think of myself as gay. The only guy I like is Kei Tounoin,
not because he’s a man, but because Kei is himself. Really, that bear! Night and day until I’m
drained? Disgusting!

I thought about going back to my apartment, but for some reason I didn’t want to leave. I
wasn’t in the mood to practice… I’m sick of thinking about concertos and waltzes. I went over
to the window and began to remember what had happened last night. Kei and I were talking
about Fujimi… and yeah, he wants to develop it eventually to be like the Cleveland Orchestra.
We started talking about getting more members… and then we were at odds about the hiring.
Kei is thinking of improving Fujimi by increasing the number of good players, like those from
M-Kyo who are playing with us as guests, but if you ask me that’s not a good idea. It will
improve the sound, but it will change the way Fujimi is fundamentally run, where anyone can
come in and enjoy playing music at their own pace. It would make it hard for the amateurs
already there to stay. Kei is a real musician, unlike us, so the first thing he thinks about is
technical improvement. He says he likes Fujimi, but I’m not sure he understands our true
feelings, that we participate without regard to talent or technique just because we want to. I
pressed my forehead against the cold window and pondered the situation, nonchalantly
noticing a cat walk by.

“Oh, you look bored,” I turned around

at the sound of the bear-voice. He
appeared next to me, patting his belly
with his hand underneath his
disheveled shirt, “Wanna go catch a
triple-feature porn?”

“Sorry, I have to practice now.” I went

over to the shelf where my violin
usually was, and remembered I left it
in my apartment. I’m such an idiot, I
can only play here anyway, why did I
take it back? I went down to the sixth
floor to get the violin and then back
up to Tounoin’s apartment. When I
entered I saw the bear sitting in front
of the CD rack, taking out all the
discs he could find. He looked up at
me with a quizzical expression.

“I also come here to practice, and cook meals in return,” I explained as I set up my music
stand in its usual place and got the music out, “My apartment isn’t soundproofed.” I took my
violin out. At first I practiced the Mendelssohn, but I wasn’t enjoying it much so I decided to
play something else. But what? I’ve mastered the four pieces Fujimi is rehearsing for the
concert… so I decided to play a solo piece. I went to Tounoin’s cabinet and rummaged
through the scores to see if I could find some new repertoire when I heard a squeak. I turned
around and took one look before shouting, “Don’t touch it!” To the bear.

“Huh?” He said, turning to me. I ran over and snatched the violin from his bear paws.
“Don’t touch my violin!”

“Stingy.”

“It’s not being stingy!” I couldn’t handle letting the bear treat me like this. I tucked my precious
violin back in the case and left the room in a rush, pissed off. Damn you, stupid bastard! I
went back down to the sixth floor, but I didn’t feel like being in my apartment so I kept going
down the stairs until I was out of the apartment building. The late November breeze was
blowing and I felt the need for a jacket, but I was too tired to go back and get it. Unfortunately
the baseball field was being used for the grass team’s practice, so I desperately tried to
practice on the windy river bank until evening came. Naturally after that I ended up holding my
runny nose with a handkerchief the whole way back to my apartment. I made some instant
noodles and sucked them up along with the snot. Then I pulled out my futon, teeth chattering
with a shivering body… as long as that bear is around, I’m not going to Kei’s room. I don’t
want to look at his face!

Ah…. but dinner. No, I’m sorry for Kei, but he can just go to Fujimi to eat. Besides, there’s no
way I could make anything good in this kind of mood. But then I was too cold to fall asleep in
the futon, and before I knew it my mind had wandered to thinking about the relationship
between Kei and Lord Bear. Why didn’t Kei get angry when I was in such a situation? Is he
that important of a friend to him? Does he not care what happens to me, his lover? Or… I’ve
heard that gay people often exchange partners and have fun with each other, but I’m not
interested in swinging or orgies or anything like that! I only like Kei. Obviously there is some
sort of feeling between them — of course it doesn’t seem like the feelings between us — but
it’s still a problem! But… even so, when he disturbed his score reading and was angry, their
relationship is such that he simply forgave him with a bitter smile.

I’m not going crazy! Come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve met one of his friends… and I
don’t like him. Frankly, I hate him. Kei seems very protective of him, though… so what is he to
him? What am I to him...? There was a knock at the door and I got up quickly, “Yes, who is it?”
I asked, thinking it would be Kei.

“It’s me, honey. Is dinner ready yet?” The bear. Ugh! Who said anything about me being his
‘honey?’ How about ‘no dinner?’

“I’m asleep with a cold!” I yelled at him and pulled the covers over myself. Footsteps went up
the stairs, then a few moments later the sound of two pairs came down. I heard the bear’s
voice. Of course he was with Kei… I thought he would at least come to see me, but the
footsteps continued down the stairs. Well, I suppose it can’t be helped, since that guy is
attached to him…

——-

“37.59” the nurse, who looked like she was just out of school, read out the numbers on the
thermometer in a cheerful voice.

“.5 degrees over. It’s not bad yet, but your throat is bright red. Let’s give you a fever reducer.”
The doctor wrote a note on my medical chart, “I’ll prescribe some Tonpuku10.” If your fever
exceeds 38 degrees, please take it. You’ll need to rest and eat nutritiously, and come back to
see me the day after tomorrow.” He handed the chart to the nurse, gave me an injection and
my treatment was done. He pulled out the chart for his next patient.

“Komatsu-san please!” The nurse called out.

I went to the waiting room where my prescription was being filled. I felt like I was just going
through the motions, sitting on a bench and staring at the TV where a rerun of a trendy drama
was playing. It was a scene where an innocent-looking actress in caked-on makeup and
pajamas was drinking in a fake apartment. ‘I’ve told you,’ said the actress, ‘I’ve told you. It’s a
game between a man and a woman. A game where if you say you love her, you lose.’

The actor in the drama replied, ‘It’s not…. it’s not a game,’ he mumbled his lousy line with a
serious expression that made it clear he wasn’t innocent. ‘Games… I don’t really understand
that.’

'You don’t need bait for the fish you already caught,’ the actress replied, ‘when a man says
he loves a woman, he feels confident that she is his. He loses interest in what he has. A
relationship without thrills is just boring to a man.’

“Morimura-san, Morimura-san!” The receptionist was calling me and I realized I had focused
on the TV. I hurriedly got up. “Thanks for your patience. You can take two of these white
capsules at a time, and this one is…” I nodded at her explanation, but I was still listening to
the TV. I know that this is the usual kind of dialogue in these dramas, but I was still a little
curious. But just then a screaming baby came out of the doctor’s office and I didn’t hear the
rest of what I wanted to know.

9
About 99.5F — in Celsius the average body temperature is 37C.
10
A mixture of acetaminophen and ethenzamide that has an antipyretic and analgesic effect, and bromovalerylurea that
has sedative effect, for the relief of fever, toothache and headache.
I don’t care what they said about resting, today is still the day I go to Fujimi. I went back to my
apartment thinking I might at least get in some sleep before I had to leave for rehearsal. I
went into my room and was about to pull the covers on me when I heard a knock at the door.
‘It’s Kei,’ I thought and I scrambled to open the door. But it was Ikushima standing there.

“Are you going to make dinner?” Just those words.

“Why me? When did I become your cook?” When I said that he answered with a disappointed
look.

“You’re Tounoin’s waifu right?” I was so startled I immediately felt the blood go to my cheeks.

“No, no, no, no!”

“You don’t have to hide it. I know he’s gay.”

“I’m not gay.”

“Hmm. Well, that’s okay. Anyway, are you going to make food?”

You sonufabitch, are you listening to me? “We’re closed today!” I slammed the door as hard
as I could.

He kicked the door, “You’re a poorly trained wife, huh?” He said and then once more banged
on the door.

“Get the hell out of here!” This bear, how dare he get on my nerves like this? Motherfucker…
in these situations, usually my first instinct is to grab my violin. I play and play and play until I
regain my mental balance. But music playing is forbidden in my apartment. I don’t want to go
to bed, and after all Kei told me I could practice in his room, I shouldn’t have to worry because
of the bear. I grabbed my violin and put my shoes on, and then realized it was almost noon.

I… don’t have to make bear food, but as long as I’m going up there. I’ll just… make food for
Kei, and whatever is left is for the Bear. I went into my kitchen and remembered that I left the
pot and rice cooker upstairs yesterday. I went through the refrigerator, threw together some
food and seven cups of rice in a supermarket bag and headed upstairs.

I opened room 71 with my key to find Kei reading music and Ikushima picking his nose on the
bed. Gosh he’s dirty. Hey, don’t wipe your fingers on it! And — he’s wearing Kei’s polo shirt! I
hastily put down my violin case and rushed over to him. I pulled out a box of tissues from
under the bed and held them at him.

“Ikushima.”

“Hm?” He said, looking up at me, “What, you want to give me a shot?”

“NO! Fingers! Wipe them with this!”

“Hm.” Ikushima stuck his finger, which had been picking his nose, into his ear. Pulling it out,
he said to me, “Dinner. We’re going out.”

By we… does he mean Ikushima and Kei? “Come on, honey.” Any energy I had to yell left
me, blown away by the cold wind in my chest. If I’m asked to go, I’ll go because that’s the way
things seem to be, but what depresses me is how I can’t get between Kei and Ikushima…
there’s no way in. Kei hasn’t explained anything about his relationship with Ikushima… or to
be more specific, he’s been so concerned about Ikushima that he hasn’t even interacted with
me since he arrived.

Well, I know how gay couples are perceived by the public, especially after getting fired from
the school. But I’m pretty sure that Ikushima knows that Kei is gay… so why does he want to
hide our relationship? Kei, what am I to you? For the time being I had no choice but to go into
the kitchen and prepare the food. The pot, rice cooker, all the plates and the tea bowls were in
the same state as yesterday. I was so disappointed that I wanted to cry. I know Kei is not the
kind of man who does this sort of thing, but still.

I heard the kitchen door open and close, but shortly after the bathroom door opened it closed;
the bear, apparently. I left the meat and potatoes on the stove and went into the living room.
Kei was taking a break from reading music, laying on the wooden floor. Even though the heat
was on, he had nothing covering him. I took a blanket from the bed and gently tucked the
blanket around his tall body as he was sleeping like the dead, exhausted from concentrating
on the score. I was staring at his sleeping face, feeling sadness well up inside me when I
heard, “Hey!” Come from the kitchen. I jerked around. “It’s burning!” He said as I hurried back
to the kitchen, “I turned off the stove.” Since he seems aware of me and Kei, I guess he thinks
it’s fun to try and get between us!

—
That night going to rehearsal with the lowest mood and a feverish body resulted in the lowest
point of all our practices. The Danube and Finlandia were fine, but then we started the
concerto. I heard, “STOP!” When we were about halfway through the first movement.

“Morimura-san,” Kei’s voice was sharp, not his usual tone, and he lowered his eyes. “What do
you think are the requirements of a professional?”

“Uh…”

“The sense of responsibility to put the work you’ve taken on first, and anything in your
personal life second,” he continued in an imposing voice.

I couldn’t help but look up, “I can’t control my physical condition, and besides I’m not a
professional,” I said coldly; I was trying my best to hide my cold.

“If you are going to argue that you are not a professional, you are very mistaken. We are not a
big orchestra; Fujimi has no substitute soloist. You have a job that can only be done by you,
so you need to perform it with care. Tonight you are in no condition to solo, so I must order
you to leave.”

When he stopped talking the room was dead silent, but I could feel the emotions of everybody
murmuring. I stood there in a daze.“Yasuda-kun,” Kei called on the first violinist from the
M-Kyo, “I’m sorry, but I would like you to take the solo part for tonight.” There was no place for
me. I put my violin away and left the room just as the concerto resumed.

As I trudged down the road to the apartment, I recalled the events of the day leading up to
now. Kei had awoken from his nap and looked at me, guarding his lunch from the hungry
bear, regarding me in a way that said ‘oh, you’re here.’ He ate with his chopsticks carelessly,
and after he finished put everything away without even commenting if it was good. On top of
that, he just said, “I’m going out,” and left with his bear…. come to think of it, my toothbrush
was left in Kei’s bathroom. It’s foolish to think that people wouldn’t notice that and not know
about us. But being so cold to me… when I was thinking there might be another reason my
thoughts went in a direction I didn’t want.

‘The person who says I love you is the one who loses’... ‘you don’t need bait for the fish
you’ve caught’... ‘Men lose interest in what they’ve got.’ The lines from the TV show at the
doctor’s office played over and over in my head. I’d like to say that Kei isn’t that kind of man,
but then again, I really only know a small part of the life that Kei Tounoin has. When I thought
about it, I only knew the ‘him’ that he showed me, and I blindly accepted it when he said he
liked me.
I was already at the corner where the convenience store by the apartment was, but I stopped.
I waited for five minutes, then hesitantly raised my hand towards the red light of the empty taxi
that pulled up. I told him the name of the town that I vaguely remembered, “The place where a
bar called Ontsubo is.”

“Yes.” Came the simple reply, proof that the driver knew the place. To my relief I didn’t feel
that I wanted to drink there, but it was more that I didn’t want to go back to my apartment. The
familiar Hanaya and Garandeau places I usually go feel annoying right now, and I’m too
lonely to go to a restaurant that’s unfamiliar.

In Ontsubo three-quarters of the tables were empty. The second movement of Schubert’s
Unfinished Symphony was coming to an end. The last table was also empty, but I chose a
table in the very back corner. I sat down in the chair with my back to the other guests. I
couldn’t tell if the waiter was the same as last time; without looking up, I ordered a glass of
Early Times whiskey, “Sorry, I don’t want any snacks,” I replied when asked about food.

I soon realized three glasses of liquor in quick succession was a bit too much for a lightweight
like me… but as I waited for my fourth drink to arrive, I was thinking to myself as if I wasn’t
drunk, dwelling on the question ‘why...’

We were doing fine… right? Kei loves me, and I also feel like he’s an irreplaceable lover… it’s
been five months and… a half… since we met. Oh yeah...only five and a half months. There
were so many things that have happened, that have changed my life 180º… I was jealous of
him and then hated and hated and hated... but I couldn’t help the hating. It was awkward… I
was so tired, and so smitten, and then had the realization that we were no longer together —
and it had only been over ten days. That’s all it took. Only recently was I able to finally be
honest with myself and truly accept my feelings for Kei. It felt like it had been that way for a
long time, but the truth is we’ve only been in this kind of love affair for ten days.

‘You lose interest in what you’ve got.’

I didn’t realize that he could be so serious about love games… I never asked him about the
past, but I’m pretty sure I’m not his first lover… I mean… was he just enjoying the process of
getting me to say ‘I love you?’ After I became so fond of him, did he lose interest in the fish he
caught? Am I… being played? It was a crazy thought, but I didn’t have any way to deny it. I
never played love games, and before now the only love I had was to secretly have a crush on
somebody who I, honestly, knew nothing about. I don’t understand women’s psychology, but I
also don’t understand men’s feelings… I don’t know what goes on in other people’s minds. I
have no idea!
But I do know that Kei became cold after Ikushima appeared. Kei, who was always kind to
me, now treats me as if he doesn’t care, puts me in this anxious state, and looks at me like
I’m a stranger. It’s too hard to imagine that they’re lovers... if they slept together… it would be
like the All-Japan Title Match. But maybe it’s because I don’t know the gay world, I don’t know
the psychology of men falling in love with men. I got into a relationship with Kei because of
who he is. But Kei is... Kei is…? Kei was…

Behind me, somebody began to play the piano. The piece was something about Love and it
was just too much for the mood I was in. What’s more, the pianist played so exquisitely and
with such emotion that I lost it; I grabbed my glass, turned around and threw it. The glass hit
the big back of the man playing the piano and crashed into pieces on the ground. I froze; I
never thought I could do such a thing… throwing a glass at a stranger I had nothing to do
with. The back, bathed in liquor, moved.

“That’s a hell of a way to say hello,” he said, turning around to look at me. It was Ikushima.

The whole place was looking at us, Ikushima glared at me, and I was losing my cool from the
rudeness I had done.

“What’s wrong with you, eh?” The wild voice said with a full-bodied grumble. I had to
apologize.

“It’s… it’s too much… like a spear of sadness.” I said with my lip trembling.

“Why are you… what did I do?!”

“That’s my line,” I heard the clang-clang-clang of the mallet, “Hey, violinist, you’re out!” From
across the counter, the stern-looking old maestro pronounced. “I want you to pay up and go
now.”

“It’s fucked up...I’m fucked up tonight…” I mumbled. But the voice haunting me was Kei’s,
telling me to ‘get out!’ in that cold voice he drove me away with. “Heh…” I picked up my violin
case, feeling like a ghost who couldn’t quite disappear.

“Wait,” Ikushima’s voice stopped me, “I’m gonna have you give your otoshimae11.” With his
face turned towards me, he tapped the keys with one hand in the rhythm of Albeniz’ Tango.
“Play me your lousy violin,” he said, his voice haughty and impatient, but not angry.
11
Otoshimae is revenge or reprisal; yakuza talk for giving money paid for a debt owed, but can also be a revenge killing
for an offense.
My chest was cold… I felt dry and frozen inside, and didn’t have the strength to think… so I
did as I was told, put my case on the table in silence and took out my violin. Tarantella… I
jumped in on the second bar of the prelude that Ikushima had started to play. I wasn’t
desperate, I didn’t feel like giving up… I finished the two and a half minute piece, and my
fingers continued moving when he went to a new song. It wasn’t until I had played about four
bars that I realized it was the Meditation from Thaïs. His piano accompaniment followed my
bow effortlessly. Then he segued into Ave Maria and Romance. I see… he is a man at the
same level as Tounoin. Ikushima was an excellent pianist who deserved to call himself a
‘genius’... as an ordinary person I’m like an insect to them. I was ashamed that Kei had a
person like me as his lover.

“Okay, next is Träumerei,” I heard him say, and I shook my head.

“I’m sorry… please forgive me,” I took off my glasses and wiped my eyes with my sleeve.
“You know that I’m in bad condition, please give me a break.”

“You son of a bitch, but didn’t you just play four songs with me already?” His teasing
paralysed me.

“I’m sorry… I’m drunk… sorry…” I shoved my violin and bow in the case.

As I was searching my pockets for money to pay my bill, I heard a conductor-like voice say,
“You!” and looked up to see Kei. He grabbed me by the shoulder, “What are you doing here?”
He shook his head, “I’ll pay for you.” His voice still had a harsh tone, and he was staring down
at me.

“I’m sorry… goodbye.” the words slipped out of my mouth unintentionally.

“But… no, it’s okay…” he responded.

It’s my fault that you are ashamed of me. I was so excited that you loved me that I didn’t
realize that I wasn’t actually worthy of you. I’m the fool, so I shouldn’t be the one that feels
hurt. I was so stupid I almost said ‘but I love you’ in a place like this… goodbye, Kei. I went to
slip past his tall frame and go to the register.

“Wait!” my legs froze at the angry voice coming from above my head, “I asked you what
you’re doing here!”
“It’s because you don’t take care of him that he’s come here to replace you.” Ikushima’s voice
came from behind me, and his thick arms wrapped around my neck with a crunch.

“What did you say…?” Kei said in a low, emotionless voice, “I’m better than you. Hey, Yuuki?”
I gasped for breath, as I was sandwiched between the two tall men and the atmosphere was
becoming oppressive.

“What should I… what should I do?” I could tell without looking that we had attracted the
attention of the whole bar. There was a sound of the wooden mallet ringing, like the
announcement of a fight.

“Hmph.” Ikushima dismissed him with a snort. Tounoin ignored the response.

“Morimura-san is my concertmaster,” said Tounoin.

“I know that. But what does that have to do with your private life? Whatever we do…"
Ikushima retorted in a joking tone, not even bothering to lower his voice. “...It doesn’t matter if
we kiss or fuck.” By now all the curious spectators had fallen silent.

I glanced up at Kei. How could he believe such a thing? Just say ‘Sure’ and leave. He’s trying
to make fun of you!

But instead Kei responded, “...Did you really?”

“Yeah, he makes a lot of noise,” Ikushima said, in a voice that was easily heard throughout
the bar. I blinked and blushed immediately. I was angry at Ikushima’s outrageous lie, and
embarrassed because of all the people watching.

“That’s not true!” I couldn’t bring myself to shout it.

And Kei, in a low voice that smacked of betrayal, asked “Is that true?” I shook my head like a
whip, frostbitten by his tone. But --

“I told you I did,” Ikushima boldly denied my denial.

And Kei seemed to believe it, “Anything else?”

I felt like my heart was going to stop from his frigid tone. I tried to get words out of my frozen
heart, but tears trickled down my throat. I wanted to say, ‘I only like you,’ but the only thing
that escaped my lips was “...you are…!”
Tounoin’s hand flashed, and I heard it make contact with a slap -- above my head.

“So you finally showed your true feelings,” chuckled Ikushima. He pushed me aside and said,
“But I’m set on taking this one.”

I don’t have good instincts and I’ve never been particularly fast. But just then, I waited to see
what Ikushima would do next. I could read it in his body language and I moved; the kick
stabbed into my epigastrum as I dove in front of Kei, hitting with enough force to lift my feet off
the floor. The wind was knocked out of me.

“Yuuki?”

“F-fuck you!” My vision became muddied, achromatic swirls… I swallowed and it improved,
but the pain of that one blow almost made me faint. I sagged miserably to the floor…
breathe… Kei, I can’t breathe!

“Oh my God!”

“Get out of my way!” Ikushima held me up; my body had instinctively curled up, and he
squeezed me until a squeak came from my throat. I clawed at my neck in a choking fit.
“Breathe, quickly!” The forced exhalation set my lungs on fire. I squirmed and let out a searing
breath.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I gasped on his shoulder, trying to catch the breath I could finally get.

“Whoa, ho, ho!” He exclaimed.

“Yuuki!” Kei hugged my head.

“You’re such a mess… my kicks can knock a big black man off his feet,” Ikushima said.

“It’s… it… is…” is all I managed to squeeze out.

“Ahh it’s all about this idiot. It’s your fault, you vain bastard.” Ikushima snorted and glared at
Kei.

“... I’m sorry for what I did.” Kei replied, looking at me.

“You’re a decade too young to have such a pure-hearted wife!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Please… stop it….” I interrupted, still breathing hard. I lowered my head imploringly to the
crowd that now had surrounded us. Gay… pervert… the music world is small, and it was easy
to follow that this situation was a love triangle between men. “I’m sorry… Tounoin… I’m sorry
for embarrassing you…” I said apologetically.

“Aw, you’re gonna make me cry,” Ikushima said sarcastically and stood up, “Hey y’all, scatter.
You can’t even get a good kiss with y'all drooling all over the place.”

“Hey, Ikushima-san!” I raised my eyes to him resentfully, saying stuff like that on top of
everything else he already did.

“Or what? Are homosexuals rare these days? God, you’re a stick in the mud.”

“Stop it, Ikushima-san!” This time I shouted.

“Ikushima… could it be… Takamine Ikushima?” Somebody in the crowd said loudly. Ikushima
puffed himself with pride at the people.

“What about it?”

“Oh my God! You’re the Ikushima Takamine? Oh my God!”

And suddenly I also made the connection. Once, when I was still an aspiring college student
doing my entrance exams, I remembered hearing about a genius pianist who stole the
spotlight of the music world, who became a legend…

One of the people said, “A song! Let us hear a song!”

“Heh…” was the genius Ikushima’s irritated response.

—-

“Hey, taxi!” Kei raised his hand, but the lights of the empty car were coming at a speed that
showed no intention of stopping.

“I want you to stop, asshole!” The foul-mouthed Ikushima-san stepped out into the roadway in
front of the oncoming car, which screeched to a halt. The driver must have felt the same way.
“That’s dangerous!” The driver rolled down his window and shouted.

“You weren’t going to stop, were you?!” Ikushima smacked him on the head and won the
argument.

Kei pushed me into the back seat and sat beside me. Ikushima went in the passenger seat as
if it were a matter of course, shaking the car. Kei said, “Let’s get off, tonight is the end of all
this.”

“All right, Fujimi-cho.” Ikushima-san said casually, ignoring Kei’s words as if nothing had
happened. He poked the driver to hurry up. The driver nodded and started the car, probably
worried he had picked up a violent professional wrestler or something. About five minutes into
the ride, he said, “I’d like to talk to you about something,” he didn’t turn to face me. “How
about one concerto per night?”

“Is the phantom genius pianist selling himself?” Tounoin said in his most poker-faced tone.

“A night with food, then you play the concerto and I do the accompaniment.” Both Kei and I
gasped. I’d read the phrase ‘wildly gifted pianist’ somewhere in an article written about him.
Yes, right before his disappearance, and it wasn’t a very positive article. It was a negative
situation… yeah, I think with the Boston Philharmonic or something. He kicked the idea of
playing a concerto with them because he couldn’t abide having a co-star, and didn’t want to
play something with an orchestra full of idiots. After saying such things, they also refused to
perform with him, acting like such a stubborn beast. So I was surprised that such a person
would say, ‘I want to play a concerto accompaniment.’

“There are three conditions,” Kei said.

“What the hell?” Replied Ikushima.

“First, don’t mess with Yuuki.”

“Also, you want a personal cook!?” I snapped back at Ikushima, calmly asking for such
outrageous things.

“Yes, that’s out of the question. So second, dinner only,” Kei continued.

“You want me to live on one meal a day?”

“Find your own breakfast and lunch. Third, Yuuki won’t play before the concert. The concerto
and other things with you are for practice.” The scene had become too much, I wanted to just
slide underneath the passenger seat.

Ikushima-san stared up at the ceiling, then down at his feet, thinking. “Hmm….hmm…” back
to the ceiling again.

Come to think of it, he is notorious for hating to rehearse. One review of an original piece by
him which he performed with sensitivity, said that what he did was not really classical music.
Honestly I’m not sure what happened to him. He came out of Harlem in New York City - even
though he’s Japanese - and was an instant star at competitions for a year. In less than two
years he had disappeared from the scene. In the beginning he was hailed as a ‘genius’ and
by the end as a ‘disgrace to classical music.’ However, when people hear him play the piano,
their souls are moved and they fall in love with him. A classmate of mine in the piano
department told me once that his playing has a whiff of jazz in it, but somehow the way he
does it makes it feel natural.

This kind of person is in front of me now, scratching his musty, stubbly chin and considering
being my accompanist. I gave Kei a look which asked, ‘Is this really Takamine Ikushima?’ and
Kei responded with smiling eyes.

Ikushima-san finally spoke, with a sad voice that seemed like he was preparing to die, “Fine,
it’s a practice commitment. However,” he said, turning around and looking at Kei with utter
seriousness, “The only orchestra I’ll play with is the one you conduct.”

“That’s fine.” Kei answered, equally serious. I was present at a great moment. This genius
pianist, who became a phantom in the classical music world, has decided to resume
concertizing on the condition of a meal a day…

“So about those meals…”

“No…” I whispered to Kei, “I can’t be making full-course meals every day, you know?”

“Oh, miso soup and some vegetables are fine. When it comes to food, I’m a quantity over
quality kind of guy,” Ikushima said, as he had overheard me. He gave me a dirty wink, “You
cook like the first woman I fell in love with. Her name was momma.” After thinking about a few
seconds, I got it; sometimes these geniuses’ jokes are hard for an ordinary person to spot.

“In the meantime, you owe me two meals, so that means three meals tomorrow.”
“What?” I snapped, then I realized: I played the violin tonight with his piano playing… four
drunken songs! I felt myself go pale and sighed. I grasped Kei’s thigh with my slow, trembling
hand.

“What’s wrong?” Kei asked.

“Right, I did play with your accompaniment, so I guess I have no choice.”

“Yuuki… Yuuki, is that true?” Kei looked even paler than me, “How many songs? How many
things did you play?” I was holding my breath.

“F-four songs…”

Kei reached over and grabbed the back of Ikushima’s shirt collar, “You can’t be serious?”

“Ah,” Ikushima shook off Kei’s hand. He shrugged his shoulders in response to Kei’s
uncharacteristically breathless question.

“The best way to end this is to listen to your Happy Heart,” he turned around again, holding up
his fist, “I wouldn’t go with anybody else’s guarantee but yours, Tounoin. They aren’t like you.”

“Ah, I see…” Kei said as he leaned back against the seat with a relieved look. I had a
questioning look on my face, and he responded, “Well, now you have a pianist who is both
good and bad.”

“I didn’t say that yet,” Ikushima said angrily. Of course, why would somebody who the world
recognizes as a genius be my exclusive pianist, what a terrible joke…

“Customers, we’re almost to Fujimi-cho,” the driver’s timid voice put an end to our ridiculous
conversation.

“Ah, it’s just past the entrance of Ginza-dori. Turn right at the corner where the convenience
store is,” explained Tounoin very clearly. I tried to keep track of everything that happened
tonight, but before I could get my head together we were back at the apartment. We took the
elevator to the fifth floor and then switched to the stairs. On the sixth floor where my
apartment is, I reached into my pocket -- what? My key…

“Bye,” Ikushima-san said, and held out his hand with my house key in it.

“Wha-- how did you get it?”

“You haven’t gotten rid of that habit?” Tounoin said, fuming.

“It’s not a habit, it’s a talent. Don’t worry, I won’t steal your stuff,” and with that Ikushima-san
opened the door of my apartment and went in as if it were his own house, slamming it closed
behind him.

“Hey, wait a minute -- !” That genius-pianist-pickpocket, in my apartment by himself!

“Absolutely. How selfish he is!” Kei said with a chuckle and put his arm around my shoulder,
“Well, I think this shift is more natural for me, too.”

“With Ikushima here?”

“So that’s it. Is there a problem?”

“The problem…” we were living together more or less, like a half-way living together, but when
it comes to making it official and clear…

“Well, my clothes and stuff…”

“You can move in tomorrow. We need to get you over that cold soon, or you’ll miss the
concert,” he looked down at me, and his eyes had gone cold again, “Come to think of it, you
still haven’t told me why you were in that place.”

I bowed quickly, “I… just wanted a drink.”

Kei sighed, “Anyway, let’s go back to the apartment,” his voice was irritated.

---

How many times have I faced Kei like this? We sat cross-legged on the cork floor, and I
looked away from him.

“Well, why were you there?”

“...so..”

“You have a lie on your face. Tell me the truth,” he said sternly, and I had no choice but to give
up.
“...being ejected from the rehearsal was a shock. I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“I see. Anything else?”

“That’s all.”

“I told you, lying doesn’t work with me… you must have misunderstood something about me
and Takamine, right?”

I went red to my ears, and then pale. I felt like Kei was reading my mind, but it was true that I
was questioning what he thinks of me. My instinct told me there was no way for him to know
exactly what I thought, so I said, “I don’t think I misunderstood you. You and Ikushima-san are
best friends, or something like that, right?”

“Well, maybe somewhat more than just a friend,” he replied in a softened tone.

“That’s why I was jealous, like a kid. I felt like I couldn’t get between you and
Ikushima-san...and naturally that made me feel lonely.”

“Hmm. Anything else?”

“That’s it.”

“I’m sure you have more to say.”

“No.”

“There has to be,” Kei decided with a snap and sighed, “You want to know why I treated you
so coldly in front of Takamine, right? Didn’t it bother you?”

I smiled and shook my head, “I don’t want to look clingy in front of your friends.”

“Well I’m sure that is your official reason,” he sighed again. “I must confess, I didn’t want him
to see our relationship.”

I had thought that, but I was a little shocked to hear him say it so bluntly. No, not a little…
“I thought that might be the case,” I laughed, but my heart was pounding. “That’s why I was
trying to help, but I’m not so good at acting. I’m sorry I embarrassed you like that…”
I heard a big sigh.“I don’t care about it. I’m not ashamed of being gay, but I also don’t think I
need to announce it.”

“I’m not either, I would proudly tell anyone that I love you. But I’m sorry to say, I’m still not as
comfortable as you and Ikushima-san.”

“Well, let’s put that aside for now. I understand why you want to hide from the world. The
problem was that I was trying to hide our relationship from Takamine, and that may have
caused you to worry about something else.”

I shrugged my shoulders, trying to seem nonchalant, “It doesn’t really matter, I don’t care
about that. You said you like me, so that’s all I need to know…” All of a sudden a single
teardrop fell on my crossed legs. And then a few more. I wondered what was going on… I
didn’t say anything sad. There was nothing to be sad about. Yes, nothing sad. But… I’m
crying.

“The reason I didn’t want Takamine to know about us is because I’m so head over heels for
you.”

I smiled at the delightful reply, “Yeah, I know…” It still amazes me that a man like him has a
boyfriend like me. The feelings I thought I was keeping inside seemed to appear on my face.

“So! I was being pretentious. I didn’t want him to see it on my face that I had reached the
finish line!” Kei said, exasperated. He added softly, “Takamine and I used to compete to see
how many people we could sleep with in a week.” If I could have made a sound, it would have
been a cacophony, like the dissonance of fingers pounding on a keyboard. “So, I mean…”

“I finally got it,” I laughed. I was glad to have that relief.

“What? That’s it. What did you figure out?” Kei looked suspicious.

“So basically it’s a matter of pride, right?”

“Yeah… well…”

“Well then, that’s it for me.” I found myself laughing even more, “To tell you the truth, I thought
he might have been an old flame. I don’t get upset about being abandoned when you are
reading music, but…”
“I have no physical relationship with Takamine,” Kei said firmly. “Actually it was a relationship
that began with a fight. He’s the type of guy that if you challenge him, he responds with force.
I’m just trying to avoid trouble.”

“I’m glad…” I said sincerely. “I was just thinking what I would do if I was that kind of person.
I’m stupid, you can see my taste in the mirror.” I smiled shyly and took off my glasses. “But…
and I don’t want you to get mad at me… but I was nervous. Well… a little. I really don’t know
that much about you yet, and...about me… except that… that you love me…” The words
awkwardly came out, and Kei gave me the answer I was hoping for. With a smile, he reached
out and pulled me to his chest, kissing me warmly and gently.

I answered his lips with my arm around his neck. I didn’t want to hear one more word about
Kei’s history. I don’t want to know what kind of lovers he’s disappointed or how many men
have been in his arms! It wasn’t that I didn’t want to admit he had a history, I just didn’t want
to know. So instead of blocking my ears, I begged him for action, to end a conversation that
might reveal something I don’t want to know. I wanted to make sure that Kei loved me now,
only that. And I burned madly with Kei’s caresses, squirming and sobbing and climaxing over
and over again, but my heart was sad and dry. I had imagined he had a past love, but it had
just been a fantasy with no basis in reality. Imagination doesn’t hurt.

But that confession… competing to see how many people he could sleep with in a week…
was a stark reminder of the reality of the situation, and it hurt me a lot. Kei is so attractive that
he attracted me when I wasn’t even gay, so I can imagine how much he is to men who are. I
can understand that. But I guess I didn’t realize that Kei was the kind of person who could
play love games like that… I don’t know. I don’t want to know! And then the fact that he said
himself that he didn’t want Ikushima-san to know about our relationship.

I felt even more that all the things he said to me were flattery… lies, that he actually thought I
was a crappy violinist and was trying to please me with pretty words. Why would he tell me
such a lie? That’s why my pride is in tatters… and it hurt more because I allowed myself to
believe it. If he were honest like Ikushima-san, calling me a jerk but still saying that he loved
me, I wouldn’t feel this way.

He’s cruel… that night Kei Tounoin was a stranger to me. Though I was accustomed to his
scent and the way he caressed my body, I was far removed from my existence. After a
feverish hour we shared the bed together. “Good night,” he kissed me as usual… and then he
soon fell asleep. I listened to him breathe as I cried quietly. I couldn’t stop the hot tears from
coming out, and the soaked pillow became cold on my temples. I felt like we might be ruined,
and it was only a little over a week until Fujimi’s concert. The day after tomorrow would be the
start of the training camp over the weekend. The sad night was so long that the morning didn’t
come until I had exhausted myself with crying.
 11 of 12%:
(The Testimony of the Cellist Hiroshi Iida - Part 1)

He looked like he was in a trance.

It was Saturday, May 21, and Kei Tounoin, the 22-year old renegade assistant conductor of
the M Symphony Orchestra, walked in the doorway with his typical stubborn poker face. Only
the look in his eyes seemed tinted with the color of cherry blossoms in springtime, and his
heartbeat seemed to be skipping.

Iida called out to him, “Hey,” and the voice that replied, “Good morning, good morning,”
definitely had a hint of merriment, though probably only Iida could pick up on it.

“You’re sure in a good mood today, huh? Did you get a girlfriend?” Iida said quickly.

Tounoin immediately put on his expressionless armor and coldly replied, “No.”

“Ah don’t hide it, don’t hide it. You look like a Spring Moon has come.”

Tounoin looked down at Iida (after all, there is a height difference of more than 20 cm
between them) and smiled faintly, “I beg you, please keep it to yourself.” After saying that he
went quickly to the podium.

Tounoin joined the M Symphony Orchestra about two months ago. However, he joined with a
special post as an assistant conductor — which technically did not exist at the MSO — and
because of his haughty attitude, he made enemies of the whole MSO, musicians and
administration alike. As a result he had been treated like an outsider for the month and a half
since he arrived. The only reason he has been allowed to conduct was because he took on
Tokuitsu Siwai’s place on a regularly-scheduled performance that he refused to do at the last
minute. If you asked Iida, Tounoin’s perseverance had finally paid off; he had the guts to keep
trying with the orchestra in the face of their ostracism. The animosity is still very strong,
though, and half of the musicians have not given up on excluding him. In fact, they seem
determined to get rid of him, and have escalated their various ways of harassing him to do so.

That day was the first rehearsal for Pictures at an Exhibition, which was to be performed at
the regional concerts the following week. Someya, the concertmaster, went over bowings with
the sections as Tounoin went up to the podium. When he opened his score, he gave a look of
surprise and picked up a piece of paper that was stuck between the pages. It was a ‘letter of
misfortune,’ Iida thought. In a professional orchestra, internal relationships are often volatile; if
someone had a dissatisfaction or dislike for another, they would not say it to their face.
Instead, they communicate through anonymous ‘letters.’ They might say something like, ‘It’s
time for you to retire,’ or ‘I wish you would do something about that grinding noise you make.’
If the indirect means of backbiting doesn’t get through, a nameless letter is tucked between
the score pages, or into an instrument case.
Tounoin quickly read down the paper that was probably just that, and then said, “Your
conducting is boring, it makes me tired to watch you. But this is….” His eyebrows drew
together in a huff, and the eyes of the musicians glittered.

‘Tounoin is in trouble, and it’s a sight to behold. Now what will he do? Reading out a letter of
misfortune was a novel move, but how do you judge it?’ Iida thought.

“Hm…” Amidst the attention of the musicians, Tounoin pinched his lower lip and sighed softly.
“Does this mean that they want me to wake them up when I see they’ve fallen asleep? Or is it
a request to wake them up when rehearsal is over? Or did you just want to communicate your
thoughts? Please write your concerns more clearly next time.” He thrust the letter into his
back pocket and took out a baton, “Okay, let’s get started.”
The letter of misfortune was a failure.

But of course, the sender wasn’t one to back down. After the rehearsal break, Tounoin picked
up another piece of paper from between the score pages. Once again, he read it aloud, “ ‘Get
out. I don’t want to see your face.’ … as long as you’re watching my baton, you don’t have to
watch my face,” he said with a shrug and put the letter in his back pocket. “Let’s begin.” Once
again, the note — which this time was written quite to the point — fell through. This was just
the beginning: every day after that, at each rehearsal, Tounoin would read the letter that was
left for him and respond out loud to the whole orchestra. The more upset the letters became,
the softer his response would be in inverse proportion. In other words, Tounoin was treating
the anonymous sender more and more cordially. Iida long ago knew who the sender was, but
decided to sit on the sidelines with the excuse that it was none of his business. Even if
Tounoin knew who the letter-writer was, it wouldn’t fix the issue. Tounoin also knows that this
is not a problem that can be solved through private discussion. So, leave it to them to sort out.

But after a week, Iida’s confidence began to waver. Tounoin was starting to get irritated; the
others didn’t seem to notice, since it was all behind his poker face, but to Iida it was very
obvious that he was annoyed. And it seemed to get more and more intense every day. ‘This
isn’t good,’ Iida thought. ‘If you get upset, you’ll be taken advantage of. I thought you
understood that, so I kept my mouth shut and watched… but then the letters just keep
coming.’

There was another musician who could see Tounoin’s change as well: Takako Suzuki-san, the
principal violist. “It turns red and blue, like a neon sign,” she said, referring to Tounoin’s aura,
which she could see. It’s said that changes in physical condition and emotion appear in color
around the person. When it turns red, it’s filled with anger or unrest, and when it’s blue that
means it’s gone in a negative direction.
“I thought he’d be able to handle it,” sighed Iida.

To which she replied, “Do you mean the letters of misfortune?”

“What else would I mean?” He asked back.

“The problem he’s having seems to be more private. He doesn’t so much mind the letters,
though they’re clearly a pain in the ass.”

“Private…”

“It could also be love, but probably not.”

“Come to think of it, last week there was a day when he left in a hurry.”

“Aha, do you have any ideas of what’s going on with him, Iida-san?”

“I figured he found a lover or something,” He said, and they nodded to each other.

“Haha, well even I would be interested in him.”

“When men hide themselves like that, it makes people want to get to know them more.”

“We should be better friends, Iida-san.”

“What, do you want people to think that I’m cheating on my wife?”

“No, but you can just have pleasant conversation with people once in a while.”

“It’s not just me, my wife will act suspicious.”

“What?” ...was it so weird for me to say that?

“No, no!” She laughed.

As the days went by, Tounoin’s modulation got worse. After every rehearsal he would
disappear in a flash. One time I managed to stop him to invite him out for a drink, but he
turned me down briskly.
“I’ve been hearing them every day,” he said, “I haven’t even held their hand yet. But it doesn’t
seem like a woman, you know?”

“What, are you saying you’re gay?”

“Well,” he continued, “I don't know. I just feel like I'm driven by impulses that are a little bit
different from love.”

———-

On Monday, June 6th, Tounoin seemed to have escaped his irritation. When he came to work
he seemed the same as he used to be, with a calm poker face and no inner thoughts. There
was no other way for Iida to satisfy his curiosity than to pursue him further. He caught him
during the break and asked, “Hey, it seems like something good happened.”

Tounoin looked at Iida with a deadpan expression, and looked away.

“I wonder if that restaurant is open tonight… the place I’ve mentioned before, Torigen. I’d like
to try it.”

“What is your plan, Iida-san?”

“I’d like to buy you a drink, if you’d like.”

“Then here’s your invitation,” Tounoin said, pulling an imaginary ticket out of his pocket and
presenting it to me. He must have good news to be so playful about it. I’ll do it, and get him to
tell me everything.

——

“I finally found where my violin is. It was difficult, but it was worth it,” said Tounoin in a
matter-of-fact way, and Iida couldn’t believe it.

“Hey, why did you invite me out and make a toast? Tell me the real reason. Is it…?” Iida held
up his hand with the pinky raised12, and Tounoin looked offended.

“I’m not interested in women.”

12
This hand gesture in Japan means having a mistress/woman that you’re hooking up with.
“Get out of here! Really? Well, there’s a first time for everything. I haven’t been a virgin since I
was born.”

“I’m telling you it’s not a woman. I’ve been looking for my violin for the past two weeks, and I
finally found it on Saturday night.”

“What…” Iida turned to Tounoin, shoulders slumped. If it was a lie, he wouldn’t say it in such
an obvious way. ‘Damn, that’s boring, I thought I was gonna get a sexy story. But well, it’s
fine,’ he said to himself. To Tounoin he said, “So, what is it? Mittenwald, Tourte, Guadagnini,
Guarneri? Or maybe Amati? You couldn’t mean — a Stradivari?”

Tounoin laughed at Iida’s listing of famous instruments, “No, it’s domestically produced, and
unnamed.”

“You’re kidding,” Iida gulped down his beer and felt better. “By the way, are you a violinist?
With your size you could pass for a bodybuilder.” Even though he is a conductor, he had to
have started out as an instrumentalist. Most seem to come from violin or piano, but they have
to come from some sort of musical instrument.

Tounoin behaved himself by turning down another glass of cold sake, and sighed, “No, I don’t
play it.”

Iida had a twinkle in his eye, “Oh, so is the girl a violinist? Is she a beauty?”

“Come on. I haven’t even seen their face yet.” Tounoin calmly replied.

“You… haven’t seen her face?” Iida’s mouth was left hanging open.

“Yes, I fell in love with just the sound. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

An innocent, hard-hitting romantic story appeared in Iida’s head immediately. The music of the
violin, flowing out of French windows in a white Western-style house every night. The
handsome young Tounoin, walking by, looks up at the window when the sweet sound of the
violin catches his ear. Floating on the gauze curtains is a graceful silhouette, and Tounoin fell
in love with her at first sight. He couldn’t wait to hear her again, so he goes to her house
directly after work and waits for her beautiful silhouette to appear on the curtain night after
night. When the shadow appears and he hears the serenade begin, his heart races and his
loins ache… oh, he’s completely in love. I… hope when he sees her face she doesn’t turn out
to be an old hag.
“It’s not good to give your first love to a cheap domestic item. From panties to socks, we’re in
the era of designer goods!” Iida said to Tounoin, shaking his head.

“But I like it.”

“Well, okay. So tomorrow? I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

“Yes, please.”

“Yeah, and I can give you some tips if you want.”

“No, thank you. I do things my own way.”

“But the first time is the most important! If you fail the first time, it’s a lost cause.”

“Please, I’ve done this before.”

“Really? How old were you your first time? Come on, tell me…”

“...Sixteen.”

“You son of a bitch… you were faster than me. So, was it a classmate?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you ask her?”

“Well…”

“Oh, so she asked you to come along?”

“...well.”

“Oh my God! Shit… for me I was 17, and it was with the laundry lady.”

“It’s the difference between men and women.”

Iida poured another round of cold sake in Tounoin’s cup, which he said was too much, “Come
on, drink up! Get a hangover after drinking like crazy and go into tomorrow impotent!”
Chuckling, Tounoin took the overfull cup to his mouth and gulped it down.

“You bastard, don’t act so cute. Okay, drink, drink, drink!” Iida’s plan was to get Tounoin drunk,
but Iida collapsed first and was dragged to a taxi. He complained about how Tounoin’s
shoulders were too high to hold onto while Tounoin apologized for that.

“I don’t even know if it’s a man or woman yet,” said Tounoin. “He might be old. But either way,
that is my violin. He is the most important member of my orchestra, the keystone, so I can’t let
him get away.”

Was this in the taxi, or the elevator, or the apartment? “Oh, come on,” said Iida with some
difficulty, “The first thing you need to do is fuck them. The same was true of my Kiyomi. I knew
I couldn’t let her get away, so I had to get her in bed to have a shot at anything in the future…”

Iida couldn’t remember Tounoin’s answer.

---

‘I wonder how it went.’ Iida thought to himself. It was Wednesday, and he was watching like a
hawk for Tounoin to come into the room. That young assistant conductor, with his perfect
poker face and fucking calm demeanor… he tried to put off Iida. However, however, he’s just
a kid. This was Iida’s fifth year at the M Symphony Orchestra, and his ability to read the room
had been honed to a finer degree than his cello skills.

‘There he is,’ Iida quickly did a breakdown of

Tounoin’s aspect: the response to Iida’s “Hey!”
was too calm. The steps to the podium were too
leisurely. His reply to the daily ‘letter’ was too
pithy. The tempo of Don Giovanni was too
lively… the conclusion was:

At break time Iida went over to Tounoin and

whispered, “Did you meet the beautiful violinist?
How was it?”

“The response was good enough,” he replied,

sipping coffee.

“Already? (did you do it?)” Iida whispered back.

He replied, “No way.”

“Don’t let them get away!” It was like a secret exchange between contacts in a spy novel, and
Iida enjoyed being in this position.

M-Kyo’s schedule includes three monthly programs, six regular concerts, two regional
performances each month, and one or two overseas performances a year. Other jobs include
those related to broadcasting stations, which are their parent organizations. M-Kyo Hour on
TV and radio often plays their recordings of regular performances, but sometimes they do a
special program. They also do theme songs and background music for popular shows. But for
drama-related music they have a huge stockpile of tapes, so the work they take on for that
purpose is a bit more selective than in the past, but the schedule is still busy. It was
coincidence and good luck that Tounoin, who had already gained the position of assistant
conductor that didn’t exist prior to him, was given a chance to move into the public
performance arena. In addition, a popular conductor who was supposed to perform a song for
FM radio called Hodoodo was accidentally double-booked and left the rehearsing to Tounoin.
Then weather conditions also interfered with his hectic flight schedule, leaving everything in
Tounoin’s hands. The unseasonable tropical cyclones showed no signs of stopping, so the
assistant director had to send the message to the stage at Shimizu…

They would rather have thrown themselves from the rooftop of the new Tokyo Metropolitan
Government Building than send the assistant conductor into the recording studio. The
assistant director was eager to send out any stick-flipper with a decent career -- even a
near-unknown rookie -- rather than this newcomer who had only been with the company for
three months, but all offers were rejected. The timeframe was too urgent for them to accept,
especially with the program involved: highlights from Anacreon, an opera by Cherubini, the
father of grand opera. Their enthusiasm to present live performances of the classic, which
wasn’t intended to be released on CD, was a failure according to the organizers.

However thanks to this, Iida was able to experience the true nature of the ‘possible genius’
Kei Tounoin, a musician who had abandoned all pretensions and considerations for the
originally scheduled conductor of the performance, only three months after joining. Tounoin
hadn’t taken a break since he got the score on Tuesday, July 5th. Friday was the first day of
rehearsal for Anacreon, and while the concertmaster was dealing with the strings, Tounoin
was asleep next to the door… leaning against the wall. He was so soundly asleep that Iida
had to go and wake him. But Tounoin demanded a two-minute break, and when he returned
to the podium exactly two minutes later, his eyes were not bloodshot --which was the only
indication that he had been reading scores all night long.

“Then, from the top of the overture.”

At the MSO, as a professional ensemble, rehearsal is limited to three days unless something
unusual happens. The program and performance members are announced in advance, so
individuals do their own practice as necessary, then they rehearse together for two days. The
third day is the dress rehearsal, and then the day after that is the performance. How can the
young Tounoin keep up with that rough professional schedule? That was what the musicians
were wondering. The first time he conducted, he was able to do it very easily, and everybody
assumed that was the best he could do. This was the second time.

Tounoin changed. His tempo in the right hand, and his left like a dancer’s, gave expressive
instruction that came out continuously. It was roughly matched by his eyes, and the sound
that resulted swelled, rippled and shaped into music with vivid emotions. Iida was captivated;
anybody who had feelings would be. Tounoin’s conducting demanded sensitivity from Iida and
the others with unmistakable clarity, attracted them and made them follow. It was not
Tounoin’s fault that the music didn’t quite come out the way he wanted. It was because of the
‘exclusionists’ in the orchestra that refused to follow him for personal reasons. Iida thought so,
at least, and told Tounoin during the break.

“Don’t be rotten. The people who bring their petty obsessions to rehearsal are idiots,” said
Tounoin, looking at Iida over the rim of his paper cup with unsmiling eyes. “But even if you’ve
been snubbed, a professional conductor has to be able to pull it together properly.” In other
words, no matter how much opposition or resistance he might encounter, he must be able to
control the music and do as he pleases without resorting to arguments.

“Are you an idealist, Mr. Toscanini?”

Tounoin smiled bitterly at Iida and said with a nod, “Does it look that way to you? Well, I’m still
inexperienced.”

“To me?”

“If you think my ideal is Toscanini, the unchallenged sovereign of the NBC Symphony
Orchestra, formed for him with the best musicians in the world, and who left such an
impression that they said, ‘He’s our only Maestro’ after his death — then I get it. It’s
convincing, too.” But Tounoin’s words were a denial, and also sounded as cold as could be.

‘This bastard…’ Iida thought.

“It’s not that I don’t like the idea of having a person to live up to, or for that to be the goal of
the orchestra members, but it’s a petty aspiration — even if it’s Toscanini. I don’t approach
music with that kind of chutzpah, like Jan and Bernstein and others. If you try to follow in the
footsteps of those ‘masters’ who came before, I feel like you have to avoid falling into a rut,
and rather treat their accomplishments as signposts, in order to surpass them. Anyone who
doesn’t is cowardly, or perhaps frightened, by those top artists. It’s a matter of pride.”

“Really? Well, good luck with that,” Iida patted him on the shoulder. While inside he was filled
with excitement, wondering what this guy would do, it wasn’t exactly pleasant. Iida liked
people who had a lot of pride, but how far can they realize that lofty ideal? What kind of
frustrations and struggles will they endure, perhaps only to stumble and fall into a comfortable
position? Or you could disappear into an abyss. Or do you climb over the edge and continue
on the highest path? It’s such a dramatic spectacle!

Life is made up of gambles and their consequences, and right now Tounoin is betting at the
ultimate table. At the young age of 22, he is betting on his own talent, a transcendental value
that is the raison d’etre of an artist (or an aspiring one), and a challenging game that can be
only won or lost, exactly or halfway. Ridiculously pure seriousness is best viewed at an angle;
the real pleasure is observing others, which is irresistible to watch. Today, Tounoin has taken
a step forward as a professional conductor rather than just another stick-waving student, and
of the MSO at that.

But still, it’s a mountain. And it’s only one step. How far will he be able to climb up the road,
where he has to step over the graves of other young talents who fell to exhaustion aiming for
the same heights? How will he rise up from the setbacks that he will inevitably face more than
once, and how far past them will he get? Iida was looking forward to it, his musician’s spirit
was eager to know: will he end up a true artist, or will he settle on his knees as a performance
craftsman? Or maybe he’ll end up as one of the corpses, dead in a grave made from the gap
between his pride and ability. We’ll have to wait and see, right up until the end. Iida’s cynicism
came from his status as a member of the orchestra, a form of acceptance that quite frankly
wasn’t that warped of a perspective. He is aware that he chose the life of a salaried musician,
and because of that he has to put his feelings aside — which were half vexation and half envy
— for the time being.

In truth he was so envious of Tounoin’s youth that he could hardly deny it. But if he admitted
that, he would have been crushed by the pressure of repentance and despair, and have no
choice but to hang himself before the day was through. What he really wanted to do was
relive his hawkish days of youth through Tounoin, and see if he had that one in a million luck.
Or, as they say, one in a million people is blessed with the talent to break through the hurdle.
Of course the success would be Tounoin’s, but Iida wanted to share in the feeling of
conquering the mountain from the supporter’s perspective.
The highlight of the program was an aria and a duet, in addition to an overture and two
interludes. The soprano and tenor vocalists were Sadako Fujisawa and Yuchi Maeda, two of
the most talented young singers in the Japanese opera world. The opera, Anacreon, is an
unusual story: only the overture, performed by the Berlin Philharmonic under Karajan, has
been recorded on CD, but the rest has fallen into obscurity. In fact, Cherubini’s most famous
opera, Medea, was forgotten after it’s premiere, but thanks to the singer Maria Callas it was
revived as a masterpiece. Even so, it barely has its name in the music encyclopedias. As a
result, Iida didn’t know much about the music of Anacreon or even the plot, and he assumed
Tounoin didn’t as well. After all, he barely had the score beforehand, and he couldn’t listen to
a reference recording either.

The second day of practice, though, Tounoin

strode up to the podium and began by saying,
“Cherubini was a great pianist during the
French Revolution, and was very active in
establishing the operatic style. He was an
Italian-born composer, but helped form a grand
French opera style with masterworks like
Lodïska, Medea, and Les Deux Journées... but
you probably already know all that,” and
continued to give lectures on Anacreon to all
the members, including the singers who were
present that day. That went over like, well, like
water on a board. “I hope you can now
understand the background of this piece. I’m
sure that some of you have studied in Italy, so I
apologize for the redundancy for those who
already know the piece. Let’s begin.”

There are not many people here who studied in

Italy, and the number of people who have even heard of Anacreon would be even smaller.
Even counting Tounoin as one of them, that’s probably it. For Iida, getting a lecture from the
conductor about understanding the background of the music took him back to his college
days. It was a bit of a shock, as Iida had been accustomed to simply playing the music he
was given. Until now, he thought that mechanically converting the musical notes into sounds
was ‘performing,’ and it was professional to simply not make mistakes. But it’s true, in operas
there is a story embedded in the music and songs. If you don’t know the plot, or what scenes
you are playing, can you truly play it well? Essentially, Tounoin was only requiring a basic
education. There are many ways to receive this kind of talk, and some idiots interpret
kindness as sarcasm. It was doubtful that the two soloists had familiarized themselves with
Anacreon as their interpretation was different than the explanation Tounoin gave. Maybe they
had studied in Italy. At any rate, they ignored what he said and sang as they liked, showing no
kindness towards him. ‘Well…’ thought Iida, ‘how do you deal with the selfishness of solo
singers, who have big egos and are difficult for even experienced conductors to deal with?’

Tounoin endured it with his poker face. It was inevitable considering the time frame, though if
they had a dispute he could retaliate by leaving… ‘But that would be no fun,’ Iida thought, ‘It’s
not like him to turn a blind eye to the soloists’ selfishness, to just go along with it. Or maybe
I’ve thought too much of him to expect that?’

The answer came in the studio on the next rehearsal. They played the program in concert
order: overture, interlude, aria, interlude, and duet. The recording staff were there as well. The
overture and interlude ended without incident, and we entered the aria. There was a short
introduction and then Fujiwara-san entered around bar 12.

“STOP!” Iida wasn’t the only one who was shocked, but Tounoin was talking not to the
musicians, but to Fujiwara-san, who had suddenly stopped singing. “I’m sorry, but I am asking
for you to be more con affeto in this section.”

“I didn’t hear that,” she said with a hint of annoyance.

“Oh, I see. Well, it’s con affeto, lovingly and gently, if you please.” They resumed again, only
to stop four more times, and each time Tounoin politely pointed out corrections to fix the
woman’s arbitrary artistic decisions. Now what will she do? Soloists exist on their egos, and
Tounoin’s treatment must have been worse than unforgivable, it must have been intolerable.
“If we can go from the beginning again.”

She turned to him, looking humiliated. “The aria,” he reiterated gently, irritating her nerves.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she finally snapped.

“I’m the conductor,” her angry eyes met his cool, expressionless glare momentarily. Tounoin’s
mouth quirked, “I am a… fledgeling conductor.” He carefully calculated that wording, but
saying that as a young, handsome man with a big attitude -- but also a big heart -- had
perhaps a bit more of an effect than what he expected.

“Ah, yes. I understand,” A new light glinted in the woman’s eyes, and her attitude changed
from annoyance to lust, with a hint of sadism in her voice.
“That was a good start, though. With the con affeto.”

“Yes.”

Iida wondered what she would want in return for following a green conductor’s instructions?
And how would Tounoin respond to that bill she would obviously expect him to pay? His
curiosity was irresistibly piqued; collecting gossip about men and women was one of his most
enjoyable hobbies.

They proceeded to do the recording of the aria for real. Sadako Fujiwara sang with coloratura
and panache, the sense of con affeto flowing easily from her voice. After she finished she
swung her head around, and Iida thought Tounoin would demand a do-over. Unexpectedly he
quietly moved on to the next interlude, and then the soprano-tenor duet ended with silent
approval.

“Thank you for your hard work.” Some of the M Symphony members smiled at his eloquent
words, “But it wasn’t the best. I will study harder after today,” He regarded the musicians.
“Thank you very much for your help, everyone. I’ll take my leave.” With that, he left the studio
without looking at the soloists. At that moment, Iida jumped out of his chair and followed him,
‘Shit! He’s mad!’ he thought. The principal viola called after him, since he left his cello behind.

“Suzuki-san, come! We have to stop him!” Iida yelled back to her as he ran out the door. He
thudded after him, “Hey Tounoin! Wait!” The tall man did not stop nor turn around, but his big
shoulders seemed to stiffen as he was stuttering away. “Hey, wait! Do you want me to tackle
your ass?” Iida caught up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, “You want to give up after
one failure?” Tounoin stopped suddenly, surprising Iida.

“Failure, you said? Yes, yes, I failed. It was a huge mistake to allow you to read my inner
thoughts. Shame on me forever.” But his eyes were smiling when he said this. Eventually he
broke his poker face and began to smile. He started walking away, laughing.

“Hey, Tounoin? You —“

“It’s not so bad to have people who worry about me without regard for their personal benefit,”
he said. “As thanks, I’ll tell you the truth: I’m going to see my beloved, but I overran my
scheduled time with my stupid stubbornness. That’s why I’m in a hurry. But I don’t want the
rest of them to know,” with that he quickened his steps and disappeared.

“Hey, hey, Iida-san?” Iida was slapped on the back.

“What?” He said, turning around. Suzuki-san was panting.

“Don’t ‘what’ me. Where’s Tounoin-kun?”

“He went home.”

“You should have held him back. He’s so depressed he could quit, right?

“No, that’s…”

“Totally! You know how gutless these soloists are, and that we’re just trying to be patient with
them.”

“Ah, looks like you already knew…”

“What?”

Iida looked down at the small, plainly built violist with a smile, “I’m sure he knew that part
already.”

“... what do you mean?”

“I heard he was making a demonstration of sorts, but what was it all about?”

“So… about that…”

Whether he was trying to show he had the guts to stand up to the soloists, or trying to
appease the orchestra who was unpleasantly accustomed to dealing with soloists who ignore
the conductor — either way the result was bad. If he wanted to appeal to the audience, then
he should have gone all out, even if it meant punching a hole in the program. His position in
M-Kyo is also part of the equation… no, if he had been put as the conductor from the start,
then the responsibility would have been all his. But of course, Tounoin is a nobody, the office
would have no hesitation to fire him for any infraction.

“... so that’s about it.” He tried to push back a little, but when he got resistance he
compromised.
“Tsk!” He heard her say under her breath. “I think his judgment that he couldn’t push it further
was correct,” Suzuki-san looked at Iida and frowned. “After all, can a commander without
soldiers go to war?”

Iida shrugged his shoulders, “Control of the troops is dependent on the commander’s ability,
right?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought so, he took that chance. It’s a tricky balance.”

“I wonder if that’s the only way to look at it,” she replied, but Iida thought it was somewhat
surprised.

“By the way, what color was he today?” He was trying to tease out the color of Tounoin’s aura.

“What color do you think it was?” She replied cheekily.

“Um… silver?”

“Wrong. It was a rainbow color, with big gradations.” With that she went off with a flutter of one
hand and her viola case in the other. Iida wanted to know more, but he had left all his stuff in
the rehearsal studio. He gave up with a shrug and a sigh, turning around. He wanted to know
more about Tounoin’s situation… the aura is a barometer of emotions, but what is the
meaning of rainbow colors?

What Iida didn’t know, of course, was that right now Tounoin and his ‘lover’ Yuuki Morimura
were in the first step of re-starting their relationship after the unfortunate accident. At the
moment they were engaged in a “coffee-or-other-food” strategy.

In July and August, the theaters in Europe have their off season, with no concerts or opera
performances. The orchestra is likewise on summer vacation, and the members quickly go off
on their own holidays, though some spend their time doing solo activities. However, the
Japanese MSO has only two weeks of summer vacation where they suspend orchestral
activities. Those who want a longer vacation, in addition to the break for Bon, have to
negotiate with other musicians for voluntary time off. For example, Nobuhara had a 24-day
trip to the United States with his wife, so he asked Iida to take on the two regional
performances that would be missed. Iida wanted to take a break, but he couldn’t skip out so
easily; Kiyomi was pregnant. If you ask him, childbirth was just the beginning of the hardships:
eventually they’ll have to move to a larger apartment, and the sooner you start saving for
college the better. And he wasn’t planning on paying back the baby shower gifts either. If
you’re going to be a musician, you have to start lessons by age three at the latest. Not even
talking about prenatal care, which is important too, so you have to make sure you’re buying
better stuff. Yes, right away. “Father” is another word for poor man, but he has to be the
breadwinner… and only a foolish man would gladly accept this burden. Therefore, Iida had
resigned himself to giving up his summer vacation for 20 years and would leap to take on
work at summer school children’s concerts in some gymnasium, devoting himself entirely to
the task of making money.

But Tounoin took exactly one month off from work. One day he posted a note on the orchestra
bulletin board, stating that he would be ‘absent for personal reasons’ from August 1 to 31st.
Then again, there wasn’t any work for him anyway; ever since the incident with the radio
broadcast, Tounoin had fallen once again into a state of disfavor, and there was no sign of a
reward for his effort to appear properly prepared and studied. Iida wasn’t sure if Tounoin was
capable of going abroad and having fun. His memo appeared on July 31st, which is when Iida
saw it on his way out the door. It was harvest season, and on returning from a festival
appearance in Hokkaido, there was an afterparty with a bunch of dour people. Somebody told
Iida, “There’s no telephone pole today.” He overheard Hashizume, a viola player, saying “A
rehearsal space without His Highness the Telephone Pole is like coffee without cream,” to
Komaki, a double bassist.

“He’s an interesting character, isn’t he? He has a strong presence even if he’s just standing
there, but as long as he stays quiet you don’t notice him. He’s like a natural-born wallflower.”

“Oh, he can just stand there and still attract attention,” said Kumiko Nitta, joining the
conversation. She was one of the youngest violinists in the ensemble.

“Yeah, he’s a good looking guy,” replied Makino, one of the cellists.

“That’s not what I meant!” Kumiko Nitta was an excitable person.

“The two conductors are very different, don’t you think? Especially when Hayata-san is
conducting. What can I say?... it’s like Kei-chan has more dignity than Hayata-san, so he’s
losing to him.”

“Kei-chan?” Iida’s attempt at a joke was interrupted by Hashizume, “It’s true, he’s very
dignified, but he has skill too. If only he had more of a resume, he could be the youngest star
conductor in history and sell out concert halls.”

Nobuhara laughed quietly, “You’re really into him, aren’t you?”

“I think it’s easy to see why,” Iida was shocked by Hashizumi’s admission.

“You can’t make somebody understand something that they don’t have the ability to,” he said,
which given the relationship between Hashizume and Nobuhara was just asking to start a
fight.

“He’s too guarded,” Iida intervened, “It’s tough to read what’s going on behind that poker
face.”

“So you’re saying he doesn’t have any talent,” Hashizume said in a biting tone. I was a little
taken aback; he was usually a very quiet man without a lot of nerve. “I like guys that have a
lot of guts, so I’d say I’m a fan. I’m talking about talent, musicality.” He was on fire, and it
wasn’t from the beer he had drank; you could tell because his Miyagi dialect, which came out
when he was drunk, was nowhere to be found.

“Well I don’t think I’d approve of a conductor without a sense of musicality,” Iida said frankly,
“But what I’m more interested in right now is his political abilities, how he manages to rein in
that group of mean-spirited idiots. It’ll be interesting to watch.”

“Hmm,” sniffed Hashizume.

“He seems to know how to play it cool at such a young age. He’s cocky, but actually pretty
funny,” said Nobuhara from beside Iida, who exchanged grins with Hashizume.

“I don’t know if it’s true or not, but there was a rumor going around that he was Karajan’s last
pupil.” Iida wasn’t the only one who turned to look at the person who said that in surprise; it
was Tanimoto, a good-natured trader in bullshit.

“Where did you hear that?”

“A source in the Berlin Philharmonic… but it seems that he wasn’t an official pupil.”

“Well if he were, I think I’d have heard about it by now.”

When the conversation lulled, Tanimoto added hastily, “Well, he says he has a memento from
him, you know. Right, Nobuhara?”

“His baton,” Nobuhara said with the solemnity of a well-informed person. Everybody looked at
each other.
“That man has Karajan’s baton…?”

“I guess if he wasn’t dull with age or eyesight, then that boy has quite an endorsement from
the grand master.” He said with a sigh.

“...that seems a bit far-fetched,” Iida mumbled, which was unexpectedly well-heard by the
others.

“It seems a little suspect, that’s for sure,” said Nobuhara, giving Hashizume a sideways
glance.

“It’s not just a rumor, I swear! He even admitted it!”

“It’s getting worse…” Iida commented, and Nobuhara looked over at him, then back at
Hashizume with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, you know, I found out about it. It was a few days before he went on leave. Tounoin was
sighing in the hallway, looking at his baton, and I thought I’d bug him a little bit. I said, ‘Aren’t
you supposed to be on duty?’ And when I looked at the handle, I saw there was some writing
on it. It seemed like a signature, so I asked him if I could see his baton, but he replied, ‘Sorry.’
I was so curious though, so then I asked if that was his girlfriend’s name written on it, and he
told me that it was a ‘memento of my teacher.’ While we were talking, I kept looking at the
signature. There was something familiar about it, so I said, ‘Is that Karajan’s?’ And he
responded, ‘Yes’....!”

“Don’t you think he was just messing with you?” When Iida said that, Nobuhara went pale with
worry.

“That seems hard to believe,” Hashizume said.

“Oh, are you all that rotten?” Cried Nobuhara, who jumped to his feet, “My jealousy got the
better of me… oh yes! I know! I thought you guys were friends, but I was stupid. Ha! Tounoin
doesn’t even have a chance to stand up for himself! And then you call him a Telephone Pole
with your friends! I can’t believe it!” To Iida’s surprise, Nobuhara was actually getting upset.
This two-faced man, who prided himself on being the first to know things, let his true feelings
come out.

“What are you… in love with him or something?” Iida mumbled. Nobuhara wiped his face with
his hands, and Iida felt a stinging feeling in his cheeks. “It’s all right, you can say what you
want,” he tried to calm him down. Nobuhara was about to leave when Iida shouted, “Hey,
wait, come on.”

“You can have your jokes. Who’s going to stay with a cold-blooded idiot like you?”

“That’s right! Come on, sit back down.” Iida pulled on his pants to make him sit.

“Hey - “ he began.

“I’m sorry, sorry. It’s true, I was being a jerk, you know I’m in the habit of looking at people too
much. I’m sorry,” Iida bowed his head, but he was being quite serious, “I like the guy, I do.
And you can say you like him. It’s just that Tounoin always guards himself with that poker
face. That’s what makes him interesting, but also annoys me a little. He’s young, but not
particularly charming. It’s like he doesn’t trust the people around him, or maybe he doesn’t
believe them.”

“If he did that, everybody would be treating him like a chew toy right now,” said Nobuhara.

“I’m going to contradict myself, but I guess his charm lies in how ‘not charming’ he is. You
know his poker face is just a facade, right? And if he brought up the Karajan baton thing as a
cover, well, that’s the way he is.”

“I don’t think it’s like that,” Nobuhara said, and his eyes met Iida’s.

“The way I see it, I bet he thinks M-Kyo is full of jerks and that’s why he doesn’t want to mess
around trying to earnestly get into it. He’s just studying it, observing the relationships between
our members. Even that business with Karajan’s baton, he’s probably gauging how we react
to that. I wouldn’t doubt that it’s all some observational experiment to him.”

The violinist Hazumi, who had been a silent listener up to that point, said, “He’s really shrewd,
that’s for sure.”

Iida shrugged, “I think he’s aiming to be a Karajan-level conductor. When I asked him if he
was aiming to be Toscanini, he looked offended, like there’s no way he would be working so
hard just to fit into that box.”

“Oh my god, he’s so young,” said Kosho while shaking his head and laughing; he was a
second violinist like Hazumi.

“I know he left the Arts University.”

“He doesn’t care about competitions either.”

“Isn’t that the way you’re supposed to begin your career?”

“Well, at least he’s not selling his lover or his affections, but he does have to put up with
M-Kyo and all that.”

“But still, he’s made some allies.”

“He’s got balls, that’s for sure!”

“I’m impressed!” While participating in this ‘aha’ moment, Iida thought he should stop being a
bystander.

He wanted to know the truth about Tounoin, this great ballsy bastard, ‘But he’s used to
observing people more than us. If we kept our distance and tried to figure him out, we could
be with him for a hundred years and only see the side of himself that he chooses to show us.
But what if I reveal my own self to him? How would he react then? If he shows his true
feelings like on a coming-of-age drama, that would be good. At the very least, I would get a
better glimpse of him than I have now… that’s right, I’ll have to reach out first. He knows how
to draw lines in the sand…’

—-

It was Thursday, September 1st. Tounoin came to rehearsal on his usual ‘visit’ looking
somewhat happier. Of course his poker face was the same as always, but through Iida’s close
observation he thought his eyes had a different look about them.

“Hey, it looks like you’ve made a lot of progress over your break,” Iida said to him, and for a
brief moment it seemed like Tounoin’s mouth relaxed a bit. Well done. “If you ever get stuck,
just ask me. I’ll be happy to help you with any personal or private matters — in strict
confidence.”

Tounoin looked puzzled, but replied, “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be consulting with you about my
personal life at some point.”

“Well, if anything, I’m best at talking about the dirty stuff.” At Iida’s response Tounoin couldn’t
decide whether to laugh or not, and gave a bitter smile.
“We haven’t gotten that far yet,” he said squarely, and went into the rehearsal room. Iida had
thought that he had already gotten to that point with the ‘domestic violin’ he mentioned earlier.
At least holding their hand… so it wasn’t such a drastic change from the other day, that’s why
Iida didn’t notice much. It was Suzuki-san who told me she noticed his aura.

“It’s amazing,” she said. “It’s red and silver, conflicting. It hurts my eyes.”

“Is he worried about something, then?”

“Yes, very seriously. But the reason is…”

“Love?”

“Yes, it would seem, but it’s a secret.”

“Or maybe he just doesn’t think it’s a good idea to talk about it in front of you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think he knows it’s not appropriate to talk about women around you.”

“Oh come on…”

“I hear you enjoy going around messing things up for people.”

“That’s not nice to say. I just want to make sure people choose the right person for the rest of
their life.”

“So you’re doing a kindness, then?”

“You know, I saw a girl come out of a hotel with this guy one week, and the week after she
introduced me to another man and said he was her fiancée of two years. How can you say
‘congratulations’ to that?”

“Oh, so that’s what happened.”

“I’m sorry that I tend to meddle.”

“That’s fine, keep it up when it comes to Tounoin, he’s going to lose it any day now.”
“Don’t scare me, I have a weak heart.”

But as a matter of fact, Suzuki-san’s premonition seemed to be right: Tounoin was starting to
show a bit of emotion through the cracks in the mask he so carefully maintained… One such
crack came on a Monday at the end of September after rehearsal. Tounoin called Iida over
and asked, “Are you free tonight?”

Iida replied, “Yeah.” He thought he was finally getting a call for romantic advice, but —

“If possible, I’d like you and your friends to join us. Actually, just the string players would be
fine.”

“...What?”

“So, the situation is that my orchestra is understaffed.”

“Your orchestra?” Iida hadn’t heard that Tounoin was working elsewhere.

“Yes, it’s called the Fujimi Citizen Symphony Orchestra. I’ve been their permanent conductor
since June.”

“Um… you mean the Fujimi Philharmonic Orchestra, right?”

“No, it’s just Fujimi, not the Fujimi you’re familiar with Iida-san, but the one that is an amateur
orchestra run on a shoestring budget.”

It was the look in Tounoin’s eyes that caught Iida’s attention. The moment he said ‘Fujimi’
there was a kind of warmth or nostalgic look that appeared. “And...?”

“We’re planning to give a concert in November, but I don’t have enough strings. The pieces
are Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, Finlandia, Beautiful Blue Danube, and the Mendelssohn violin
concerto.”

“If you need a soloist, I can get one.”

“No, I have a soloist,” said Tounoin with a tone that left no room for objection or question. “The
problem is the orchestra. The winds and brass are full, but I only have sixteen violins total
between firsts and seconds, one of whom is also the soloist. There are two violas, and only
one cello and one double bass.
“How good are they?” It was a natural question for Iida to ask as a professional when
requested to sub in an ensemble.

“Not very,” Tounoin replied flatly, “— for now. But in ten years, we’ll be one of the best amateur
orchestras in Japan. In twenty years, we will be a world-class orchestra.”

Iida was taken aback, but at the same time intrigued. ‘This is interesting,’ he thought, on a gut
level. “How many people do you need?”

“For this concert we need four violins, three violas, four cellos, and two basses.”

“Okay, I’ll gather them up. Can we meet at Torigen?”

“Sure. See you at six.”

“You got it, sub-conductor.” Tounoin glared at him for a moment, objecting to being addressed
by that title. But almost half of the musicians in M-Kyo, including Iida, already accepted Kei
Tounoin in that position. What he does is the still the same old
stand-around-and-observe-only business that assistants do, but when M-Kyo — which also
does not have a permanent conductor — suddenly needs somebody to step in, who do they
turn to? It’s Kei Tounoin, the ‘assistant conductor’ who shows up every day on time and is
ready to conduct if you let him. He already has enough popularity to be called the
Sub-Conductor.

When they met at 6pm at Torigen, Tounoin abandoned his usual poker face in front of Iida and
his ten friends; his calm and composed face was almost the same, but slightly different.
“There is an amateur symphony orchestra in a town called Fujimi, about an hour and a half
away via JR and private railways. It’s not the Fujimi Citizen Philharmonic that you know, but a
group of amateur music lovers who are known in the area as the ‘Ni-Chome Orchestra.’ I was
appointed as the permanent conductor of the orchestra this past June. It was decided to hold
a concert at the end of November, but we are short on strings. As you may have heard from
Iida-san, we only have one cello and one bass. That’s why I thought it would be a good idea
to ask for your help. However, you would not be extras and therefore would not be paid.” He
took a sip of beer, “Because what I’m looking for are not subs to make this one concert a
success, but skilled members who can continue to lead and develop my orchestra in the
future. So I’d like you to think of this as an invitation to my orchestra.”

It seemed like he was leaving it up to Iida to break the ice with the eleven other people he
brought. He asked, “So is it a completely amateur orchestra?”
“Very close to completely, yes,” answered Tounoin. “It’s been around for almost fifteen years.
Half of the members are new to the instrument when they join the orchestra. But the passion
is there, and that’s why I’m investing in it. The people there come together just to enjoy music,
and there’s a kind of family atmosphere, where everybody takes care of each other. That’s
where I found my ideal music, therefore I want to nurture it. But to do so, I need your help.”

The fact that Tounoin really liked the Ni-Chome Orchestra was evident by the sparkle in his
eye, even with his usual flat way of speaking. Iida was envious of the young man’s glittering
enthusiasm. “I’m on board,” he said without much hesitation. “I”m only teaching a few
students outside of my duties with M-Kyo. I can make time for you. The rehearsals are at
night anyways, right?” Tounoin nodded, though the expression on his face didn’t show any
sign of happiness.

“As I said before, from a musical standpoint we are still in a terrible state. They have not been
blessed with conductors who were willing to teach them properly, so the ensemble has been
largely guided by their previous concertmasters. However, the current concertmaster is quite
capable musically. So, I would like you to come and observe Fujimi first, and if you are willing
to be a part of my plan, please pay the membership fee and join the group. My plan is, by the
way, to develop the Ni-Chome Orchestra like the Cleveland Symphony.”

Iida felt a bit better, “... So you’re aiming to be George Szell.”

“Well, in a sense. I have confidence in myself, but right now the task at hand is to secure core
members of the group.”

Iida sighed, “This is a big undertaking...”

“It will take time,” said Tounoin, sounding as if he didn’t mind if they turned him down.

“And what if we don’t join?”

“We’ll find others who are interested.” In other words, Tounoin was serious. And the truth was
that he was desperately trying to hold himself back from asking for too much help from Iida
and the others.

“Okay, let’s go and observe first. When and where?”

“Tomorrow night, if you’d like,” replied Tounoin, no longer hiding his relief.
‘That must be how he expresses his gratitude…’ Iida thought. ‘What the hell is with this guy?
He’s not good at talking, not good at dating…’ Iida had a strong urge to grab his head and
shake him. Instead he told him, “If you’re happy, you should smile.”

He pushed up the bangs over his embarrassed face and shyly flashed a smile. ‘What the hell,
when I actually get a facial expression from him he suddenly becomes so cute!’

Iida was still struggling with this thought as Tounoin continued talking to them, “The rehearsal
location is the Fujimi-cho Civic Center. I’ll draw a map for you. Practice starts at seven in the
evening.”

“What’s the name of the concertmaster?” Hazumi asked.

“Morimura-san. Yuuki Morimura.”

Iida involuntarily leaned forward, and then restrained himself, “It’s a guy.”

“Clearly.” The look he gave seemed to say, ‘What did you think?’

“I thought this was your…” Iida held up his little finger, and Tounoin smiled bitterly. It would be
a while before Iida would know the true meaning of that grimace.

——

The group decided that it would be too much trouble to take the train, so they went out in
three cars. There were a total of eleven people, and Iida’s eye for selection was flawless.
However, whether or not they decided to join Tounoin’s orchestra was up to them individually;
Iida thought it would really depend on the results of the observation that night.

Fujimi-cho was far from sophisticated or luxurious, it was just a bland, ordinary town. It
seemed like it might be a bedroom community for people who work in Tokyo, since there were
rental houses called “XX Villa” or “XX Apartments” as far as the eye could see. There was
nothing interesting about the streets, and even the Ginza, which stretched from Fujimi station,
was just a dull shopping street. The Civic Center was also an uninspiring building that looked
like it had been built a long time ago. The silhouettes of two figures were waiting outside the
entrance for Iida and his friends, lit by very practical fluorescent lights. They greeted the group
with the kind of friendly smiles often seen on the staff of local concert organizers.

“Hello, are you from Fujimi? Nice to meet you, I’m Iida, the group leader. Thank you,” he said
as he appraised them in his head: a young man with glasses who looked a little nervous and
had a delicate build, and a small chubby man with a smiling face. Now, there was a 50/50
chance that one of them was the concertmaster. “And Morimura-San is…?”

The young man with the glasses bowed his head, his slightly surprised expression changing
to a frown, “That’s me.” Fujimi’s concertmaster seemed to be from a good family, quiet and
reserved. “This is Ishida-san, our caretaker and double bassist.”

Iida turned to Morimura after shaking hands with the smiling caretaker, “I’ve been asked by
the sub-conductor to observe tonight.”

Morimura looked a little displeased, but said amiably, “I see, I see. Then please, come this
way. We just rehearse in the conference room, so the acoustics are a mess.” His voice
seemed to sadden when he added, “Our playing skills, too.” He seemed very open and
expressive. As he led Iida and the others, Morimura leaned over to the caretaker and in a
whisper began to discuss how to introduce them to the orchestra. Apparently, Morimura did
not think that they would be willing to join Fujimi… Iida liked his sensible judgment.
“Well, is it rude to… tell Iida-san like that?”

Iida smiled at the thoughtful words, “We don’t mind.” When he said that, Morimura turned
around with a startled look on his face; the reaction was childishly innocent and it made him
grin. Iida liked this concertmaster, but of course this was based completely off of his
personality.

Tounoin didn’t arrive until eight o’clock, so until then it was individual part practice. It was
supposed to start at seven o’clock, but even at seven thirty there were still a number of
people arriving, and the latest to arrive was the trumpet player, who walked in the door ten
minutes before eight. He looked as if he had rushed straight from work, and Iida felt as if he
learned something of the reality of an adult amateur orchestra. The part practice was a
hodgepodge of noise; strings, winds, and percussion were all playing at the same time in one
not-so-large room. Iida and the others looked at each other with a smirk, seated in the
spectator chairs that had been lined up against one wall of the room. ‘This guy has bigger
problems than just the music, don’t you think?’

But the members were serious. They practiced diligently, with their noses buried in their
parts… or closing their eyes to concentrate on their playing in the middle of the noise, even
though they probably couldn’t hear themselves. Iida thought about the environment in the
M-Kyo building, where private practice rooms were available, and then considered what kind
of town Fujimi was. There must be many people living in those cramped apartments, where
the thought of practicing at home was nothing but a dream. They work hard for their
livelihoods during the day, and only become musicians three times a week in this room… ‘It’s
no wonder they’re not very good at it,’ Iida nodded to himself, ‘If I could only play in this kind
of environment, I probably wouldn’t b—‘

Iida turned his head when he heard a clear, crisp sound, like a cool breeze blowing through a
room without air conditioning. It was Morimura, the concertmaster. When Iida found him, he
had stopped his bow and seemed to be explaining to some listeners what he was doing. Try
it, try it, fix it… then a praising smile.

“That concertmaster seems to be doing pretty well,” Iida whispered to Nobuhara, who was
sitting next to him.

Nobuhara replied, “He has to at least have a degree from a music school. I wonder where
he’s from?”

“I think he’s from the Fujimi Philharmonic Orchestra.”

“I don’t know, I’ve heard that the Citizen Phil and this group are on bad terms. Look, the
names are exactly the same, but when the Citizen Philharmonic put up a sign after they
formed their orchestra, they pulled a bunch of people from here.”

“That’s interesting.”

“There was this guy Taoka, you know, he was a first-class violinist. He’s in the Citizen
Philharmonic right now.”

“Didn’t he join New Japan?”

“He got into trouble, took off and now is the assistant principal. I’ve heard him say he didn’t
feel very comfortable there.”

“With his personality, it’s probably the same everywhere he goes.” He was the kind of person
who goes around looking for other people’s flaws and ends up making a trap for himself. Iida
stopped talking when he caught a sideways glimpse of the brass players practicing in front of
him. When he resumed observing, he realized that everybody in the group looked really
unsettled, like a classroom on the day of a class visit. He felt a smile on his face, ‘Oh, what an
innocent group… so this is what Tounoin was talking about when he said that Fujimi was
good. The atmospheres of M-Kyo and this group are as different as winter and spring.’
Tounoin arrived five minutes before eight o’clock. The orchestra members, when they noticed
the tall man walking quickly to the podium, hurried to rearrange themselves for the general
rehearsal.

“Thank you for coming all this way tonight,” Tounoin said to Iida and the others. He then took
out his baton from his back pocket and said, “Let’s begin. The Beautiful Blue Danube.” The
rehearsal, which began with such simple words was, however, very tedious. “STOOOP!
STOOOP!” More than a dozen times his brash baritone interrupted the performance, which
was so full of mistakes that Iida couldn’t tell where all of them were coming from.

After yet another ‘stooop,’ Tounoin gave up and lowered his baton. “I’m sure you all know
what I want from you. Keep your eyes on my baton,” He broke off with a sigh, and the group
waited breathlessly for him to continue. “Why can’t you follow such simple and clear
instructions? I’m curious. It seems that all the pumpkins and eggplants lined up against the
wall tonight are bothering you, but in two months you’ll be playing for a pile of pumpkins and
eggplants.”

His words hit Nobuhara funny, and he let out a huff of suppressed laughter. Iida looked at
Tounoin with a wry smile.

“Anyway, if I have to stop even one more time, I’m going home,” Tounoin remarked and gave
the group a sharp look. All of the forty or so members of the group clung desperately to his
baton.

Iida thought, ‘This guy... No wonder Tounoin is so invested in this, if he’s come this far he
can’t afford not to do what he can. How did you find these people?’ As the saying goes, the
best way to get good at something is to like it. Of course, the musical level is very different
from M-Kyo, but every time they repeat the piece it improves. Even if the poor performers are
still poor, he’s still making steady progress, because Tounoin’s orchestra is utterly devoted to
improving. If M-Kyo had this kind of temperament… straightforward and honest, it would
become an orchestra that conductors all over the world would want to be appointed to as their
permanent conductor — even if it meant they had to leave another orchestra. And if such a
pure and innocent orchestra had a certain level of technical ability, they would come without
hesitation, even if it weren’t Tounoin. The problem is that the orchestra is a complete disaster.
There is little to be done to improve the musical ability that comes from a group of amateurs
that just like to play. Although... Tounoin is motivated.

‘But how? Tounoin said he wanted a core group to act as mentors… yeah! The members of
the group right now don’t have much time or a place to practice, but what if they could have
somebody to teach them one-on-one? What if they had enough instructors who could help
them make the most of their one hour of practice they had three times a week? At the very
least, your progress would be faster than it is now. No, it would definitely be accelerated. If
you can get a suitable leadership system that is appropriate for the strict conducting gestures
that require amateurs to practice by memorizing, motivating them happily instead of
demotivating… it will explode! A complete combustion of passion!’

The result was that Iida clenched his kneecaps where his hands were resting. His excited
mood made him itch for his bow, ‘Oh, if I had my cello here right now, I could… lend some
support to the lonely (but not bad-sounding) cello part! I want to play music with these guys,
to be a part of it, and enjoy making music with them!’

So when Tounoin put away his baton and said bluntly, “If you’re confident you want to join,
please come and stand here,” Iida was on his feet without an ounce of hesitation. What would
it matter if he gave up two or three money-making lessons to join the ranks of these music
lovers? But he was a little surprised when Nobuhara stood up, and more than a little
flabbergasted when all ten of them formed a line next to him. He thought that no matter how
he forgave Fujimi’s ineptitude, they were still bad, and assumed that he would be the only
idiot willing to accompany Tounoin on his journey.

“Please introduce yourselves,” Tounoin said.

Iida took a step forward without thinking, but he was feeling solemn, “My name is Iida and I
play the cello a little. Nice to meet you.” Yes… I’m not the 6th chair cello of M-Kyo here, I don’t
need a title or to care about greed or gain, I’m just somebody who loves music and wants to
be part of this Fujimi group. Please allow me to join. It seemed that the other ten M-Kyo
members felt the same way; Nobuhara, Hashizume, Hazumi… none of them introduced
themselves as being from M-Kyo, but bowed their heads seriously. Not only do they make
their living from music, but they were members of a first-class orchestra.

In a sense, they were the envy of the world. But looking back, Iida felt he had lost sight of the
fact that music is meant to be enjoyed. Fujimi taught him and reminded him of the joy of being
a musician, which he had somehow lost, and it became a literal breakthrough in all our
musical lives. No, a vibrant encounter! The faces of the leaders of each section, who stood up
to answer Tounoin’s call for self-introductions, were firmly etched in Iida’s mind. The feeling of
warmth and enthusiasm in his heart as he remembered each person was like that of being
reunited with someone he hadn’t seen in years. That ‘oh, nice to meet you, I’m Iida the cellist!’

—-
It was on a Tuesday — exactly one week after he joined Fujimi — that Iida discovered
Morimura, the concertmaster, was a man of soft heart but hard spirit. Despite the hassle of
coming all the way to Fujimi, Iida entered the rehearsal room in a relaxed manner.
Tonight they were rehearsing for the Mendelssohn concerto, which was to be the centerpiece
of the concert program, and Morimura was the soloist. ‘The orchestra’s ineptness must be
deafening, but Morimura’s solo must… well, it’s probably quite good, considering that
Morimura himself seems to play a role in Tounoin’s fondness for Fujimi. I’m sure he’ll sound
great,’ such an expectation had aroused Iida’s interest. When he arrived slightly ahead of the
scheduled time, the chairs were already arranged and Morimura, who appeared to be in
charge of the setup, was tuning the strings. But his right hand was thickly bandaged… it
seemed like he had injured it in a fight. ‘He must be a very careless person,’ Iida thought. The
hands are the lifeblood of a musician. ‘Maybe I was naive to expect a good sound…’

All through the personal part rehearsal, Morimura was silently playing his solo part against the
wall. He played the part perfectly, but the important parts of the piece were still rough. Or
perhaps too aggressive. It was as if he was playing the violin to relieve his frustration.
Eventually Tounoin arrived and everybody began the ensemble rehearsal.

Iida had no expectations for Morimura’s solo, but…. he was more than a little surprised. His
performance, which had been so rough just a few minutes before, had cleared up perfectly. It
was a pity that the clarity of tone, that sounded like it could have been Mendelssohn’s himself,
was not as clear as it could have been, probably due to the limitations of his instrument. It
seemed to be a contemporary instrument made in Japan, and while it was pretty good for
being that, it was impressive he could get that much sound out of it. In the second half of the
performance, it seemed that the pain in his hand was getting in the way, and his calmness
collapsed a little, but Iida still thought he was a very good violinist.

So when the first movement was over and the baton had been lowered, Iida applauded him
with a ‘Bravo!’

But at that moment, Morimura shouted, “Don’t patronize me!” And slammed his violin on the
floor. Iida was taken aback as Morimura strode across the room.

“Wait!” When Tounoin tried to stop him, he yelled back, ‘Shut up!’ And proceeded to walk out.
The face that had always shown only a gentle expression was flushed with full-blown rage,
and Iida was dumbfounded…

He looked at Nobuhara who was sitting next to him. He shook his head silently, “It’s your
fault,” he said.
“But… I was just being honest with him…”

“You were complimenting his ability to play with an orchestra like this. Maybe it was in
earnest, but it seemed like it was sarcastic.”

Iida was shocked, “...Did it come across like that?”

“It did to me.”

“...I see…” He scratched his head and stood up. Tounoin looked at Iida, and Iida bowed in
silence.

“It’s my fault for making him so nervous,” Tounoin said. “I am very sorry to all of you, but this
will be the end of rehearsal today.”

As he started to leave the podium, a crisp soprano voice stopped him, “If you go after him
now, there won’t be any meaningful discussion.” The voice belonged to a beautiful flute
player.

‘If memory serves me her name was… Natsuko Kawashima.’ Iida thought.

“Don’t you think he needs time to cool off?” She gave him a bold piece of advice. Tounoin bit
his lips for a moment, as if he wanted to say it was none of her business. “Besides, you have
a duty to take care of the orchestra.” She certainly was a strong-minded woman, but she was
also right; the orchestra’s performance was not as good as the soloist’s, to say the least.

Iida watched as Tounoin reluctantly returned to the podium, and swallowed the words of
apology that were beginning to ache in his chest. ‘I’m sorry, Tounoin. I’ve been
underestimating you. I thought I was being a serious member of the ensemble, but somehow I
was actually looking down on them; I had the smug feeling that I was going to come and
teach them. Morimura sensitively picked up on this, and as a real musician with pride, he
sensed an insult that was intolerable. It was not… consciously intended, but I certainly did
something that was the equivalent of loudly patronizing him. There was no way Morimura
could interpret me shouting ‘bravo’ in any other way, since he knows that I’m a member of
M-Kyo. It’s different than the misguided bravos of amateurs who don’t know how to play.’

After the intolerable wait for rehearsal to finish, Iida rushed over to the caretaker, Nico-san,
“Do you know where Morimura-san lives?”
Ishida-san looked up at Iida with a smile and said, “Iida-san, I’ll go with you.” He turned to
Kaze Igarashi, a cellist who had said he was a music student, and asked, “Can you put my
bass in the guard room?”

“I’ll take care of it,” he replied, taking the bow and bass from Ishida-san.

“Oh, I’m sorry, make sure to loosen the bow, would you?”

“Yes, yes, I know. Do you want me to take Iida-san’s instrument as well? I can take it to
Mozart’s.”

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” Iida responded.

—-

On the way, Iida asked Ishida about Morimura.

“He’s a high-school teacher right now,” he said. “It’s been five years since he came to Fujimi…
he joined when he was still a student at the music college. See, it’s to secure a place to
practice… we have quite a few members like that. So, I’ve had him as a concertmaster for
two years now. Anyway, he’s a serious person, and a good person. He takes good care of this
amateur orchestra, and is doing a great job.

“With Tounoin-kun? Yes, although they seemed to be quite opposed to each other at first. I
mean, they’re both musicians, aren’t they? We don’t know much about it… but, it’s something
like how professionals butt heads with each other. It seems to have settled down now. This
summer, there was an incident where Morimura’s apartment burned down, and he even
crashed in Tounoin’s apartment. Now they’re living in the same building.

“We’re very close, though. However,” Ishida frowned, his cheerful face becoming like a carved
art object, “Morimura-kun, you know. He’s usually quiet and good-natured, but inside he’s
quite stubborn and uncompromising. I have no idea what caused that outburst tonight, but if
it’s because he had a fight with Tounoin, it might be a little difficult. After all, If you’re told to
quit, come on…”

“I’m the one who directly offended him. I’ll get down on my knees and apologize,” Iida said.

Ishida scratched his head and laughed apologetically, “Well, for now I don’t think that’s
necessary. But if one of the M-Kyo-san can say a few words to him, I think Morimura would
feel a bit better.”
“Please don’t call me M-Kyo-san,” Iida said seriously. “I’ve just realized that in order to be a
true member of Fujimi, I have to let go of my silly pride in being a member of the M-Kyo
Orchestra. I hurt Morimura-kun because I said such an unnecessary thing in my excitement.”

Ishida-san smiled, “I think he might have some misgivings about that, too. I don’t know…
Morimura-chan is a very proud person. He doesn’t like to appear weak, but he actually does
have a tough side. To tell you the truth, I think he might be a good match with Tounoin-kun.”

“Huh…?”

“Well, they’re both young… Twenty-two and twenty-three — well actually, maybe Tounoin-kun
has already turned twenty-three as well. They’re on their way to becoming full-fledged friends
after initially colliding with each other many times.”

Iida’s perspective on Tounoin had been opened once again. Ishida-san smiled and pointed,
“It’s just around the corner.”

‘So basically,’ Ishida thought, ‘Although this group is made up of musical idiots, it’s different
from a group of professional idiots like M-Kyo. It was a friendship circle, so to speak.’ Iida
thought that M-Kyo was a group of people who feel that music is the only point of contact and
no one thinks about harmony between the people themselves, only the performance. Even if
it’s extreme, Fujimi considers the camaraderie amongst members to be the most important
factor. It’s a place where people who share the same interest can get to know each other in a
human way. Fujimi is a group that was formed and maintains itself based on the firm policy
that in order to share the joy of music, there must be warm human relations… ‘Ah, that’s why
Tounoin was attracted to the group. I think there is already some real music in this lousy
orchestra, so how much better would it be if it gained a little technique? Just thinking about it
makes me happy!’

After Morimura rejected the peace negotiations of Ishida and Iida through the door, he was
forcibly dragged out by Tounoin, who boldly broke into Morimura’s apartment by kicking down
the steel door and carried him up his apartment. Iida made a small promise at the request of
Ishida: “Please don’t tell anyone that Morimura-kun is living in the same apartment building as
Tounoin-kun. It’s just for the sake of appearances, but it’s important to Morimura-kun. Oh…
after the fire at his old apartment, Tounoin was taking care of him here as well. He wanted to
keep it ‘off the record.’”

“Oh…” Iida looked puzzled, but Ishida said it in such a whisper that it was like he thought the
walls had ears.
“Morimura, after all, is a very private and shy man. Please understand that.”

‘...What was that supposed to mean?’ Iida thought. But eventually, Iida began to have an idea
of what Ishida-san’s (or Nico-chan, as he was called) advice was for. Kei Tounoin and Yuuki
Morimura… there seemed to be a very deep connection between the conductor and
concertmaster, more than mere conducting and orchestra leading. In contrast to the
iron-masked Tounoin, Morimura is an honest man who shows all of his emotional turmoil on
his face and in his eyes. Even so, Iida was still hung up on the stereotype that love could only
happen between a man and a woman, and couldn’t imagine the two of them having that sort
of relationship…
——-

During the first intermission in a three-part concert, which was the first that Fujimi had in two
years and the culmination of all their efforts up to that point, Iida saw something. He had gone
to a dark corner behind the stage, where no one would enter unless they were trying to hide
from the public — or wandered there by accident, as Iida had. He saw two people, one
holding a violin and bow, engaged in a passionate kiss. It was the first time he had seen such
a thing. Tounoin noticed Iida, who was standing a distance away. With frowning eyebrows and
eye movements he motioned for Iida to go away; the look in his eyes, without a hint of
embarrassment or guilt, convinced Iida: it was a relationship that was still hard for him to
comprehend, but Tounoin was serious, and Morimura as well…

‘Was that what he had meant?’ In Iida’s enlightened mind, he had a flash of inspiration.
‘Tounoin had said he “finally found where his violin was. It’s domestically produced, with no
name.” At the time, I thought he was talking about finding an actual violin to give to a
woman… well, he’s almost like a woman, in a way. The “violin” Tounoin chose was certainly…
rather pretty, for a man, and had quite a sound even if he was an unknown performer from
Japan. But I didn’t realize Tounoin was gay… and having an affair with Morimura. Seeing
them there embracing one another convinced him… but he was still left with an unpleasant
feeling.

But as he listened to the second part of the concert, the exquisite combination of Morimura’s
solo and Tounoin’s conducting, Iida felt it less and less. Then he was enthralled by Morimura’s
first solo recital with the astonishing choice to use the ‘phantom genius’ pianist Takamine
Ikushima as an accompanist. Not only did this ‘domestic and unknown’ violinist Yuuki
Morimura reveal his better side through his relationship with Kei Tounoin, he also blossomed
in his own way with the support of Ikushima. His performance reminded Iida of a modest
Lily-of-the-Valley rather than a large, glamorous flower, one that still needed more effort and
time to reach the ultimate beauty he seemed to be aiming for. To a layman’s ear his sound
may have seemed a little thin, with an honorable meekness. But Iida’s musician intuition
clearly told him that this was only the beginning; this young Fujimi concertmaster had a strong
spine, despite his demure good looks.

And yet he was a shy, innocent man who is so straightforward and hardworking that it makes
you smile. Iida wondered how Fujimi’s women neglected such a man, when he thought about
it. But then again, maybe that’s also the reason there wasn’t a shadow of a woman around
Tounoin, conspicuously so. ‘I could see why Tounoin fell in love with him…’ Iida thought, ‘I see
in Morimura the embodiment of what Tounoin was looking for in music. He’s a man of rare
purity, full of positivity and good will… yes, an image of water, like a healing spring that
travelers encounter. The reason Tounoin stood aloof in the cold tundra of M-Kyo was because
he had found an oasis in Yuuki Morimura. And together, with him as his concertmaster in
Fujimi, he was going to create his ideal music… a natural, rich, loving performance that will
enliven happy moods and soothe sad ones… Bravo! I’m anxious to hear the sound that
Tounoin is searching for… I’m so excited, I’m like a kid before Christmas — and at my age!
I’m so glad that I chose this group.’

“He’s going to be a monster one day,” Nobuhara said to Iida, wrinkling his nose at him as he
made a toast to Morimura at the after party. “I’m sure he’s been growing rapidly in the
shadows while we’ve been messing around here, but he’s probably about to reach his limit.”
His comment was to be expected; musicians tend to be jealous because of their strong
self-consciousness, which prevents them from enjoying the success and growth of others.

Iida smiled and said, “Don’t worry, I think there’s more to him yet. After all, he has Tounoin’s
support, right?” Nobuhara seemed to be aware of this as well and grinned, agreeing with
Iida’s statement.

“I guess that’s why he’s acting different these days,” Iida followed Nobuhara’s gaze to where
he was looking: Morimura laughed while eating a salad, and next to him Ikushima and
Igarashi were having an animated conversation. He was attractive… his childlike way of
laughing was pleasant… heh, he looks pretty comfortable. Suddenly Morimura looked at
Tounoin, who noticed his glance. Their eyes met and they smiled at each other with a subtle
smoldering expression.

Iida smiled broadly and turned back to Nobuhara, who was staring at Morimura with a smirk
on his face, “Well, don’t get any ideas about him. If you touch him, you’ll get your legs
broken.”
“No, I’m addicted to women like you. If I was offered to be introduced to only one person,
either Tchaikovsky or Maria Callas, I’d definitely prefer Maria.”

“That’s a weird scenario.”

“Cut it out. More importantly, I’m curious if Morimura-chan has a mole on his ass.”

‘That’s what Nobuhara was thinking about? Heh, what a guy…’ Iida thought. “I won’t take that
bet.”

“You need to get it out of Tounoin!”

“You’re a jerk.”

“But you’ll take the bet, right?”

“It depends on what you’re betting.”

“A table at the club in Ginza, all you can drink.”

“If it’s at Torigen, then maybe.”

“That’s shit.”

“I’m just worried about your wallet.”

“...when you think about it, it’s kind of gross being gay.”

“It wasn’t gross.” Nobuhara’s eyes lit up at Iida’s slip-up.

“Did you see something? What did you see? Come on, tell me.”

“I can’t answer that nosy question… it would be rude for me to act like a front-page reporter.”

“Maybe they’ve already done it? Have they really?”

“Your dignity as a member of M-Kyo is slipping.”

“What does M-Kyo have to do with it? I’m just Nobuhara Yoshikazu. Come on, tell me how far
they’ve gone.”
“I have no idea.”

“I’ll sue you under the antitrust law!”

“Sure, why don’t you?”

“No way. Hey, Iida!“

“You’re disgusting… hey, get off of me, stop it!”

——

The next day, a rumor had spread throughout M-Kyo that Tounoin was gay. Iida told Tounoin
that he wasn’t the one who spread it.

“I know,” Tounoin replied.

“But this is making it harder and harder for you here,” Iida said, sighing sympathetically.

“That’s fine,” Tounoin said, smiling bitterly. “I’ve already gotten as much as I can get. I would
have no regrets if I’m fired at this point.”

“You mean… you want to leave us?”

“I’ve done what I set out to do. Would it be wise to hope for more?”

“So you’re still interested in us?”

“Well, it’s the world-famous M-Kyo. I’d love to conduct it to my heart’s content someday. But
as a young man who bought his position with a bundle of cash, and on top of that he’s gay…
I’m sure the office won’t be able to keep quiet about that.” Tounoin said it as if it were
someone else’s business.

Iida shrugged, “If they fired every person for being gay, we’d have a lot fewer
musicians...‘There are only three kinds of pianists: Jewish, Gay and Bad.’”

“That’s a great quote from Horowitz, but also a joke, obviously. Besides, this is Japan we’re
talking about.”
“This is one of the most demanding industries, and competence comes first. You can’t just let
go of people for reasons like that if they have ability. And regardless, you’re the one who can
put ‘M-Kyo Assistant’ in your bio… you’re still a hungry young master.”

“Oh, so now instead of a Telephone Pole I’m a young master? That was careless of you.”

“No, no, not that. I’m saying maybe you should become a ‘Gay Arts Instructor.’”

“I don’t care what you say,” Tounoin’s profile suddenly became his usual poker face, but his
eyes had the same look from the night when Iida caught him kissing Morimura, the look that
said Yuuki was his most important person.

Iida had no wish to hurt him. “I know, I’m just kidding. Well, crossing over a mountain slope is
always better when you’re holding the hand of someone you love,” Iida slapped him
good-naturedly on the shoulder.

Tounoin gave a small smile and his mood lightened, “See you at Fujimi.”

“Yeah. Oh, by the way, did you hear about the letter from Anacreon?”

“No…”

“It happened while you were away. A postcard from a viewer came that said, “The old lady
was flirting by herself.’ Everybody got a kick out of it.”

Tounoin had laughter in his eyes. “To be precise, it said, ‘The Prima Donna was flirting by
herself.’”

Iida looked up at him in disbelief, “So… that was from you?”

“I’m sorry if it wasn’t very funny.” He replied, but his face didn’t show a bit of remorse. It was
his usual placid expression. He headed into the rehearsal room, leaving Iida with a bellyful of
laughter.

—-

On the following weekend, Tounoin was offered the opportunity to perform Don Quixote on a
live radio broadcast, and it seemed that the M-Kyo had finally turned their cold face away
from him… or rather, in spite of everything, Kei Tounoin had risen to the level of officially
conducting the M-Kyo within only eight months of joining the group on a temporary basis, in
an irregular position. At the time, Tounoin was 23 years old. It was an early accomplishment
to be expected of a gifted musician; the beginning of a musical life marked by struggle and
success, who would go on to leave a subtle but brilliant mark in the history of over two
centuries of music.
—-

Afterword - Akizuki Koh

To everyone who has written to introduce themselves or thank me, I'm Akizuki Koh. This is the
third issue of the Fujimi 2-chome Symphony Orchestra series in Ruby Bunko, and I have to
say that the content of this issue was a bit harsh. And just when I was wondering what was
going to happen next, the editorial department at Kadokawa said, "I can't wait to read the next
issue!”

But what's with the hard schedule for the past two months......? Two deadlines in one week,
and my brain is about to explode! In addition to that, I've got a pile of things to do that are
filling up my calendar. It's not just a matter of one problem and then another... but while I'm
dealing with one problem, the next one comes along and says, "Hurry up!” Thanks to
everyone's support, I’ve finally become a person who can keep up with deadlines, so I've
been working hard and enjoying myself while ranting about "angya" and "fungyu". But if I don't
do something, I'm going to sink sooner or later. I'll have to make an effort to reduce the
number of PTA-related things I have to do. (What? I got into a disagreement with PTA! That’s
sweet. That organization has all kinds of people from Diet members to Yakuza. )

I've been receiving a lot of letters from all of you as usual, and some of them I'd like to
answer, but I can't find the time to do so, so I haven’t written back. But there are many things
that I would like to answer, so I'd like to use this space to reply to some of them. For those
who say, "I want to be a novelist (or a manga artist) in the future, what should I do?" and
those who say, "I want to be a novelist (or a manga artist), but I can't write well, so I've given
up.” First of all, to those who want to be a novelist, I say "Go for it!” To those who want to be a
manga artist, it is a wonderful and important thing to be able to have such a dream. So,
please cherish the feeling of "wanting to be” to the fullest, and please make an effort. It took
me ten years to get my work into print. The number of works I wrote during that time is
probably fifty or so. The number of sheets of manuscript paper - Geez, that's a lot of work!
Don’t you think? Of course, most of them have been rejected without ever seeing the light of
day. However, making an effort for something you love is different from memorizing English
words for a test, and it's fun. Of course, there are a few obstacles.

The first one is, "I can't start writing well.” My advice to those who can't get started is, don't try
to make it look good from the beginning. If you have an idea of the kind of scene you want to
write, you can start writing from there. In my case, I often start with a single scene and later
add the parts before and after it. There are times when the last line is written first. Of course,
it is true that if you can start a story right away, you can write the rest of the story more
smoothly, but I often end up rewriting the beginning of a story that I thought was set in stone. I
don't care if I start eating from the head or from the tummy or tail. There is no rule that says
you have to start writing from anywhere; all you have to do is finish it.

My advice to those of you who stop writing halfway through is, don't give up. At any rate,
make it your goal to "write the story to the end," and try to finish it no matter what, even if it's
just a synopsis, no matter if it's an opportunistic story or a copy of someone else's. This
experience of writing a story is very important for you right now. You can revise as many
details as you want afterwards, such as the lack of origins, inadequate descriptions, and
episodes that are too mundane. Incidentally, I wrote one of Fujimi's stories in about a week.
However, this is still just a rough sketch. After that, it took about a month for me to finish it by
reading and rewriting it over and over again. What started out as about 80 pages became 150
pages! But sometimes it loses weight; it’s not uncommon for the story to change as I rewrite
it. First of all, you have to make the "bones" by writing it out. If you can't do that, you can't
grasp the work, because it’s like a jellyfish or an amoeba. Once you have a hold of it, you can
cook it as you like. By all means, go for it!

Once you've finished writing your story, you're probably ready to publish it in a magazine or
make it into a book. Especially for those who are aiming to become professionals, the key
here is to be persistent and persevere without giving up. The people who are currently
working professionally became professionals because they never gave up. If you think that
you don't have any talent because of one or two failures, then you haven’t gone too far. If you
love writing, then you have a talent, because I believe that love = talent. I've also used this
belief as a weapon to fight against my own tendency to give up. So, never give up. It would be
a shame not to make the most of the fact that you have found something you like. This is also
my reply to those who "love it but have given up.” Why do you give up? If you’re like me, let's
try just a little bit harder. Because Tounoin didn't give up, he was able to make Yuuki — who
was very much straight — his boyfriend.

I realized after writing this far that I must have done a terrible "rivalry training course" ...... ugh.
But it's okay, because I have a weapon called seniority. It’s not easy to go through… Finally,
this is the last piece of advice I received: Yoshiki Tanaka said that it is better to debut as late
as possible, especially for novelists. He said that it is not too late to make your debut after you
have read a lot of books, had a lot of experiences, and built up a sufficient amount of
experience. I'm sorry that my afterword this time has been so drawn out, but I wanted to write
this to be of some help to those who wrote to me for advice. It's a secret from Azusa Nakajima
that I, an inexperienced writer, wrote such an elaborate "Shosetsu Dojo"-like article. Please
don't tell him about it! Thank you very much. See you soon.

- January 1995