I struggled to pay attention to the brass and woodwind performances during the second half of the program because I was too bothered by Tobi sitting next to me.
“I don’t have a choice. The original heroine’s romantic partner is set as Tobi.”
The truth Kon admitted to me the other day clung to my thoughts and wouldn’t let go. It swirled through my mind, trying to connect the dots with the occasional health attacks we both experienced and the fact that Kon avoided touching on what had happened in our past lives at all costs.
I’d completely assumed she didn’t remember the past like me. But what if that wasn’t the case? Having played or not having played the remake version of Hear My Heart would cease to be the sole differentiator between us.
It’d become a matter of who did and who didn’t retain memories of their past life.
The real question at hand was why we were even reincarnated into a game world in the first place. I’d occasionally heard strange tales of girls who said they remembered their past lives, but none of those accounts ever mentioned anything about being reincarnated into or from a fictional story world.
And why is Kon so hung up on Prince Tobi? What will happen if she fails to finish his route?
Clarinetist Riko appeared on the stage while I was speculating. The skintight, deep-crimson cocktail dress accentuated her curves and natural beauty. Riko gracefully bowed to the crowd, her shimmering black hair spilling over her shoulders.
Poulenc – Clarinet Sonata, 1st Movement
The beautiful melody in Francis Poulenc’s “Clarinet Sonata” was one of its key characteristics, but Riko Miyaji’s rendition had spurts of rough notes. Her slurs failed to smoothly connect the different pitches. The overblown vibratos seemed to be her poor attempt to hide the faulty slurs.
Are my personal feelings toward Riko skewing my view of her performance? Scared that was true, I concentrated on every note she played. Kon had given me the concert program beforehand so I had the time to learn and listen to all the songs in advance. Obviously, I couldn’t compare a middle school performance to the masterful performance of Paul Meyer, but there was still something off about Riko’s rendition.
Prince Tobi glanced over at me as I clapped without much enthusiasm. His mouth curled into a nauseatingly pleased smile, and he brought his perfectly shaped, thin lips to my ear. “It’s just not beautiful. Don’t you agree?”
Tobi knew. He knew Riko Miyaji’s skill level. He knew and chose her as the clarinet representative for his school anyway.
Intense disgust and repulsion crawled up my spine.
How can you tear down the performer you chose? I had always believed that even if Tobi had assumed the role of principal and director at Seio Academy as a part of his work, he had a love for music.
I refused to comment and pretended to be absorbed with the concert.
The flutist Karin Teranishi came on stage next and gave a similarly disappointing performance. Maybe they just didn’t practice enough. Karin was a charming girl with a flattering pixie cut, but her performance just wasn’t worth a listen.
The violist Misa Utsumiya had performed much better than the others during the first part of the concert. She had performed as a member of the string quartet and used actual technique to support the tonic key.
The concert moved into the piano department’s program without intermission. According to the concert program, two performers from each school year were going to perform for a total of six performances. The program layout seemed strange to begin with, but this really solidified the feeling for me.
Normally, the best player in their senior year would perform last. Kou’s performance was exquisite, but I couldn’t help thinking it was weird to switch him into the final performance slot over the third-year student who’d performed a song with a much higher difficulty. All the more so when the second half of the concert ended with the best flutist who was in her senior year.
Kon was assigned as the final performer for the piano department. I had no complaints there because Kon was obviously their best pianist. But could the same be said of Yukiko Sawakura who was set to perform right before Kon?
She was playing Chopin’s “Nocturne in E Flat Major”.
Perhaps I was at fault for listening to Alexis Weissenberg’s masterful recording beforehand, but even if I hadn’t, there was no saving her performance. Yukiko played at too fast of a tempo, and her sound was flat. The excellent performance of the third-year student who had performed before her made the performance all the more disappointing.
Tobi leaned over and whispered in my ear again when he saw my shoulders droop. “You’re the type to show everything you’re thinking on your face, Mashiro. Miss Sawakura comes from a very wealthy family. And better yet, both of her parents love to dote on her. They are some of the Academy’s finest patrons.”
Tobi sounded elated. Profound sadness washed over me.
I’d always dreamed of attending the academy I looked up to as a pillar of musical learning. Someday I was going to enter Seio and enjoy every moment immersed in music. In order to make that dream come true, I had single-mindedly devoted myself to mastering the academic and music curriculum. Like a fool, I had believed that the other students attending Seio worked just as hard to be where they were. I was disgusted with my naiveté.
But my melancholy was blown far away with Kon’s performance.
Kon had changed since being instructed by Maestro Noboru.
A calm aura now accompanied her passion. That new calm gave the listener room to carefully taste the world spun together by the original composer. Shining brighter than any person or stage light, Kon vividly conveyed the joy of playing music.
Wow! Wow! She shines right off the stage!
Kon’s “Appassionata” moved me more than any other rendition I’d ever heard. I clapped so hard my hands hurt. Kon smiled contentedly in response to the thunderous applause. I stopped clapping once she left the stage and dragged my gaze to Tobi’s face.
Kon’s different. Everything about her is different from those you favor, Tobi. Her feelings toward music, her dedication, and her resolve—all of it is different. You won’t win!
Tobi stared dumbfounded at the stage.
“How…how could she…how could she have changed this much?” Prince Tobi’s vexed voice brought me great satisfaction. He quickly took fault with the wide grin I forgot to suppress. “You aren’t very nice, are you, Mashiro? Are you that entertained by my surprise?”
“Extremely entertained. It’s very refreshing.”
Tobi was going to be in charge of Seio Academy in the future. I knew it wasn’t smart to make an enemy of him, but I couldn’t stop running my mouth. I was more pissed off with him than I thought.