CG 30: Direct Confrontation (Heroine)
THE third Saturday since quarterfinals had arrived.
The green leaves decorating the roadside trees in the last vestiges of summer were already beginning to change color in front of the concert hall. The breeze caressing my cheeks had developed a shuddering chill, accompanied by the tormenting reminder of how fast time passed.
Midori, who was on fall break, came to Japan just as she’d promised.
“You came all this way just to cheer me on during the competition?” I asked her on the phone, feeling guilty.
She laughed it off. “Silly, Mashiro. You make it sound like such a big deal when it’s not.”
Midori made traveling the vast distance between England and Japan sound no different than a trip from Tokyo to Osaka. I’m pretty sure there’s close to 6,000 miles between them. The rich and famous are scary!
Supposedly her family owned a lavish mansion in Denenchofu, but Midori had come to love Maestro Noboru’s quaint house in the woods. She told me over the phone on Friday that she would be staying there for her duration in Japan.
“Can you cook, Midori?” I asked.
“Of course I can’t,” she responded in a pointlessly confident voice over the receiver. “Whenever I need something I’ll just call one of the maids over from the main house.”
She’s going to have the maid come over every time she wants to eat, wash her clothes, and clean? Poor maid… I put my hands together for a moment of silence for the maid I didn’t know. I hope her family adds extra pay for all that commuting!
“Hey, you’re free on Sunday, right? Let’s invite Kon and go hang out somewhere! It can double as a party to celebrate your victory!”
“Please stop tripling the pressure on me by saying stuff like that! What are we going to do if it turns into a pity party instead?”
I could just imagine myself sitting there with the gravity of depression weighing me down, while two beautiful girls sat on either side trying to comfort me. The image alone was just too pathetic.
“There you go again! I know being humble is a Japanese virtue, but it’s going out of style these days, girl. I saw the video of the semifinals uploaded on the competition website. You were the best one there, Mashiro. As long as you don’t epically screw up, the championship is as good as yours.”
What would be an epic screw up? Her praise went right through one ear and out the other, leaving only the discomforting thoughts behind to haunt me. I could just see myself forgetting the sheet music and drawing a complete blank in front of an audience in the thousands.
“Yeah…I’ll try.”
“Take it easy, Mashiro!” Midori hung up after leaving those last words of encouragement.
I glanced over at the pale-green concert dress hanging on my wall. Miss Chisako and Miss Sakurako had dropped it off just before Midori called. The sleeveless, simple A-line dress dazzled with shimmering pearls inlaid along the golden embroidery, accentuating the chest and hem. This dress alluded to the mothers’ true efforts after they were forced to prepare a simple dress for the quarterfinals under Kon’s watchful eye.
They really looked disappointed the first time. I wonder how much this cost. The thought alone made my stomach churn.
Sleep eluded me. I rolled over in bed, tossing and turning until my sheets wrapped around me. I reached for the good luck charm from Rei and the colored card from my friends that I kept next to my pillow. Hugging Becchin at my side, I read and reread their messages.
Everything was going to be decided tomorrow.
I probably won’t get to attend Seio if I don’t win. There are some professional pianists out there who never attended music school, so it’s not like that path will be closed off forever.
But still…it’d kill me not to accomplish the dream I’ve been striving toward for years. I don’t want to fail the expectations of everyone who has supported me until now. What should I do? Will I really be able to play properly?
The sound of Kakeru’s powerful music during the semifinals beat in my ears, keeping me awake until the wee hours of the morning.