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YGO Shipping Olympics round 3: (Prompt: “Feeling the flow.”) + (Challenge: Music)
This is the final submission for this round. Mirror for a music school au written by aj and with a drawing by Pumpkin.
Judai was pretty certain that his roommate wasn’t a music student, on the other hand, they had been roommates for two and a half years now and he still didn’t really know. They’d talked, and yet Judai didn’t seem to ever figure anything out about him — except that Yuusei had a part time job that involved heavy lifting, paid rent on time and spent a lot of time on his computer. They had opposing schedules, was mostly the issue. Judai had morning classes and then performance practice and usually went out in the early evening. Yuusei apparently — probably? — had evening classes and worked at night. The arrangement was all right with Judai, though, it was a lot better than having a finicky roommate or a needy one. He liked the freedom that came with independence, that was the best part of college, after all.
But one night out with the guys and they asked if he knew that his roommate had been down in the sound booth in the little theater and what exactly was he doing and Judai didn’t have any answer for them.
“Isn’t it weird, to not know what your own roommate does?” Shou asked, pushed his glasses up and tried to look disapproving.
“I said we have opposing schedules, sheesh,” Judai rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, tipping it back onto two legs. But also, Yuusei was just a quiet guy. He tended to give one sentence — or one word — answers to everything. Judai, naturally talkative, usually took the lion’s share of the conversation. “Besides, are you telling me I should be nosier? Hey! First time for everything.” And with that, he leaned forward again, the chair thumping back down onto all four feet.
“Oh, now you’ve done it,” Asuka — who was ‘one of the guys’ — sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose a little. “I feel bad for his roommate.”
“Ha! If Judai’s roommate can’t take the heat he should get out of the kitchen!” Manjoume said, which didn’t make any sense to anyone, but they were drinking in the foyer of Asuka’s dorm building and whenever that happened — only at Asuka’s place — Manjoume drank hard and fast and tried to pass it off as an excuse to clumsily hit on her. (The response was always, well, it could be worse, he could be my brother.)
“Yuusei seems like an agreeable guy,” Judai nodded along with Manjoume’s comment. “I’m glad you brought this to my attention, Shou! I’ll remedy it immediately.”
“Now, now — I mean, really — “ Shou fumbled for his words before taking a breath and spitting out, “I don’t think you should mess with him too much. I mean, having a stable roommate is a good thing!”
“Oh, don’t worry, if he kicks me out we can room together.” Judai winked at Shou.
Asuka snorted into her beer and Manjoume, who didn’t have much tact at the best of times, started laughing uproariously.
“I — it, I mean, if you were in a pinch but,” Shou helplessly tried to push the idea away. They had all been friends with Judai long enough to know that any combination of them living together was a terrible idea. Judai and Manjoume had been roommates at summer camp one year and their combined powers had set a cabin (not theirs) on fire and also lost a boat in the lake, somehow. Shou hadn’t had the good luck of rooming with Judai yet, but after having most of his classes with him for a year he could only imagine how terrible sharing living space would go. Asuka, being a year older and much wiser than all of them, could tell within the first five minutes of meeting Judai that they wouldn’t be compatible like that. Though, it had taken her the last two years to also deem him unworthy of a possible date.
“Thanks, thanks for the offer!” Judai grinned. “So, who’s up for another round?”
The bottle was passed around — a mix of vodka and Mountain Dew that was certainly disgusting but no one complained. Closer to half and half than it really should be but once they drank enough the motor fuel aftertaste of the cheap vodka went away.
“Surprised you’re not first chair yet,” Asuka commented, after all their cups had been filled. “I heard you’re going after people with a vengeance.”
Judai laughed and waved a hand. “Me? A vengeance? No way, I’ve never met them!”
“It’s true, though,” Misawa spoke up. He was sitting a bit away from them, pencilling in notes in his sheet music. Misawa was always studying, even during their drinking parties and everyone had learned long ago to just let him do it. “Judai’s made five challenges in the past semester alone.”
“How many did you make last year?” Shou asked.
“Oh, I don’t know!” Judai shrugged.
“At least one,” Manjoume complained. Manjoume had been Judai’s first challenge, last year. They had both been new violinists to the Performance Orchestra and seat partners with Manjoum sitting prime and Judai secondary, until Judai had challenged him on the first day of class.
Of course, that had only been after Judai had been informed that he couldn’t just challenge the first chair for his spot, he had to do things the proper way. No jumping the line so to speak.
“Seventeen,” Misawa provided. Asuka gave a low whistle. Judai was slowly challenging his way up through the entire violin section. All underclassmen started in the second violin section as a default, but Judai was already in the first section.
“I’ve still got a long way to go,” Judai said, but it wasn’t said with humility at all, but excitement. “I don’t know what I’ll do once I get to the top. I mean, I belong there, but part of the fun is in the challenge itself.”
“I feel bad for everyone you’ve taken down,” Shou bemoaned. He was glad that as a composition student and not a performance student he didn’t have to deal with being challenged. Just putting out perfect work all the time, which was stressful enough.
“Huh? Why? They know the dangers. It’s not my fault! Besides, a challenge is thrilling! Right, Manjoume? Right?” Judai elbowed Manjoume a few times, fairly aggressively.
“What? Stop it! Judai!” Manjoume elbowed back.
“Er — “ Asuka tried to interrupt, but by then the topic of conversation was lost.
“Exactly what I said, right, Manjoume?” Judai beamed.
“Who asked you!” Manjoume snapped and tried to dump his drink in Judai. Either by dumb luck or some strangely calculating seemingly drunk move, Judai ducked under Manjoume’s hand and bumped his elbow up — which resulted in the Vodka-Dew sloshing all over Manjoume instead.
“Here we go again,” Asuka sighed.
“I’ll get the paper towels,” Shou offered.
Judai cornered Yuusei on Sunday morning. He didn’t have class and he assumed that Yuusei’s job would let out early — which meant he laid a roommate trap at midnight. It wasn’t really that complicated of a trap, mostly it was making sure he had snacks and entertainment ready while he waited, lounging on Yuusei’s bed in his room.
Even Yuusei’s room didn’t give many hints to what kind of person he was. The walls were bare, the desk had a computer — home built — and while the floor was covered in books and boxes of computer parts and clothes, nothing seemed particularly incriminating. Judai had even poked around to see if he could find a porn stash or something and only came up with a shoebox filled with letters from home. Judai had started reading them but they were all boring, just the normal how are you kind of thing.
He planned on waiting until Yuusei came home and then locking Yuusei in his own room and running an interrogation. Or something like that. Judai’s stakeout snacks included Doritos and cans of Starbucks Doubleshot and the homework he was supposed to be doing. But 2 a.m. rolled around and with no sign of Yuusei, Judai fell asleep in his bed.
It was five when Judai was shaken awake. “Judai.”
“Mn.” Judai replied.
“Judai.” Yuusei said again and shook him a little harder. “Are you okay?”
Judai opened his eyes, looked at Yuusei and then rolled over and shut his eyes again. “Let me sleep.”
“You’re in my bed.”
“Let me sleep.”
Yuusei sighed. Judai could hear him shifting things around, boxes of things being nudged across the carpet and a backpack being set down.
“Sorry if you’re having a hard time, but I don’t really think. . .” Yuusei knelt down and scooped Judai up into his arms. “This is appropriate.”
“I’ve gotta ask you a thing,” Judai sighed.
“Ask me tomorrow,” Yuusei said and walked down the hall to deposit Judai in his own bed. “And please, don’t go through my stuff.”
“Don’t be so private, then!” Judai practically shouted. Yuusei shut the room to his door.
The next morning, for the first time in two and a half years, Yuusei was sitting at the kitchen table when Judai woke up. There was coffee already made and a pile of bagels on the counter. Yuusei looked up from the newspaper — he was reading the actual physical paper — with what could only be described as a mildly disappointed expression.
“What was that about?” Yuusei didn’t even say good morning.
“Blaugh,” Judai said and went for the coffee.
“Judai.” Yuusei said.
“One sec,” Judai got himself coffee, added two spoonfuls of sugar and snagged a bagel before sitting down opposite of Yuusei. “I was just waiting up for you, but I fell asleep. It wasn’t anything like snooping! Your room is a mess, by the way.”
“You went through my letters,” Yuusei said, mildly. “And got Dorito crumbs in my bed.”
“I didn’t really! I just looked at them before realizing how dull they were.” Judai shrugged and completely ignored the unimpressed-to-annoyed change in Yuusei’s expression.
“Those are personal.”
“Look, don’t get mad, I didn’t really read them! It’s fine. I just wanted to get to know you better, we’ve been roommates for how long? And we still haven’t had a real conversation!”
Yuusei sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. His face didn’t show it, but Judai figured the gesture had to be something like embarrassment. He hoped it wasn’t an extension of annoyance.
“So, let’s talk.”
“Are you a student at the conservatory?” Judai started with the most obvious question. He hadn’t shared any classes with Yuusei, but that didn’t mean anything. He only had shared the one class with Shou, and none with Asuka — though he had gotten to know her through their mutuals.
“I am,” Yuusei nodded. “Composing, sort of.”
“Huh? But — I mean, Shou’s composing too and he never mentioned you!”
“We don’t share any classes, probably,” Yuusei shrugged. “I have an alternative schedule, I’m on a six year program, not four.”
Judai blinked. He didn’t know of any six year programs — he was in for a four year, and so was everyone else he knew. What was even the point of six years?
“That is way too much school.” He laughed. “So, what’s with the two extra years?”
“Programming,” Yuusei answered.
Judai ate the rest of his bagel and calculated his next move. He wasn’t sure if Yuusei was being reticent or if this was some kind of game where Yuusei told Judai as little as possible while still being forthcoming. It was a little weird, actually. Most people who didn’t want to be talked to were much more upfront about it or downright unpleasant. In contrast Yuusei seemed friendly if abrupt. He didn’t give any extra information but didn’t seem to be holding back either.
“What kind of programming?”
Yuusei smiled, a bit slyly, even. Judai found himself leaning across the table in anticipation of a really good answer.
Instead, Yuusei said: “Now, that’s a secret.”
“Eh? What! No way! C’mon, Yuusei!” Judai pleaded. Yuusei shook his head. “It’s not some weird government secret? Or like — a fate of the world thing, right? So you can go ahead and tell me, right?”
“I’ll tell you when it’s done,” Yuusei paused, and then added, “And if you snoop around I’ll never tell you.”
“That’s definitely not fair,” Judai protested. Yuusei shrugged.
“It might not be, but that’s how it’s going to be.”
No matter what Judai offered in trade, Yuusei wouldn’t budge on revealing his secret project. In the end, Judai hadn’t learned anything too interesting about his roommate, but this didn’t mean he would give it. It just meant he had to get more creative about what he asked.
The game was on.
Orchestral playing was a necessity for all performance instrument students at the academy. Judai much preferred solo work, but there wasn’t any real getting around orchestral either. The thing about it was — in solo with an orchestra, everyone had to follow his lead, when he was part of the orchestra he had to follow along other people’s cues. It was the same reason why Judai didn’t do ensemble work, as a general rule.
On the other hand, he really, really, wanted to play the Passacaglia for violin and viola again. It had been his performance piece in high school — and his conductor had almost cried tears of happiness to find that Judai could play a duet, essentially. The entire senior year had been a struggle of trying to get Judai to “play nice with others”, to which Judai mostly asked others to chase him.
That was their part in it after all. A first violin led with the melody and everyone else was supposed to follow. Plus, Judai was a natural talent with a perfect ear, getting held back by boring things (and boring people) wasn’t really fair to him.
“Misawaaaaa,” Judai tried.
“Judai, it wouldn’t work out.” Misawa said, graciously.
“C’mon, you won’t know until we try!”
“I think, between the two of us, I have a better idea of whether or not I can keep up with you.” Misawa pointed out. “Your style just isn’t compatible with mine.”
“What do you mean? You’re one of the best, almost as good as me!” Judai waved his hand. “Surely it will be work out just fine.”
“The answer is no,” Misawa shook his head.
Judai groaned, dramatically, but knew it wouldn’t be worth badgering Misawa again. The previous year they had both competed for the solo spot of the Jr. Orchestra and ended up tying but since then Misawa seemed more and more interested in weird atonal music. Judai had even heard that Misawa might change from performance to conducting too which was even weirder. There wasn’t any point in being a conductor, he was certain, everyone went to concerts to listen to the performers. It was musicians who became well known by the lay person, not conductors.
In fact, every conversation Judai had with any viola player he knew went much the same way. In the case of one freshman they just backed away shaking their head and fled. Which, Judai thought, was hilarious but a little unnecessary.
It had put him in a bit of a mood — not quite a negative one, but a dissatisfied one. The Passacaglia had been one of the best performance experiences in his life and he kind of wanted to recapture that feeling. Plus, he would need at least one big performance piece to wrap up the year and if he didn’t choose one soon he’d get stuck doing something that the teachers would assign to him.
“Why not just do a solo piece?” Sho asked.
“Ehhh,” Judai replied.
“You love solo pieces,” Sho pointed out. “And you know, the likelihood of finding the perfect violist for your performance. . .”
“They don’t have to be perfect, they just have to be good,” Judai grinned, “Good enough to match me! I’ll accept a rank two or three, easily.”
Sho groaned. “You know that no one’s actually going to want to accept when you talk to them that way, right?”
“Huh? In what way?”
“As much as I like you sometimes. . .” Sho shook his head. “But why not Bartok or something?”
“You too?”
“Me too what?!”
“That sounds like something that Misawa would suggest,” Judai pulled a face. Dissonant Bartok wasn’t really his thing, even if it was technically impressive. It just didn’t feel good to play. And Judai was a by ear player far more than he was a sheet music player. “Gross.”
“Hey! Bartok is well thought of by many people!”
“Exactly. I don’t care about that. I want it to be fun and exciting to play but also something I like playing. No one really likes Bartok.”
“I like Bartok!” Sho practically shouted and then buried his face in his hands. “It’s really no use talking to you sometimes. . .”
“Yeah and see where that’s gotten you?” Judai shook his head. “It’s been nice talking to you Sho, but I need to find a violist and fast.”
Sho shook his head, almost a mirror of Judai’s gesture. Sometimes it was like they were talking but not at all connecting. But that was Judai in a nutshell.
“Mendelssohn!” Sho called after him.
Judai waved a hand. He still hadn’t tried asking some of the ensemble-only players. Judai didn’t know any of them personally, but maybe they were more adventurous than his orchestral fellows. If anything, they hadn’t been subjected to watching him challenge his way up through the ranks, at least.
Though, Mendelssohn wouldn’t necessarily be a poor second choice.
It turned out that Judai really would have to do Mendelssohn, he asked literally every violist who was even close to his caliber and was turned down by every single one of them. He hadn’t played the Concerto E Minor Op. 64 before, but it suited his needs and that was, apparently, what he was doing for his junior year recital.
Yuusei’s door was shut and Judai didn’t know if he was in or not, but he took the opportunity to complain in the kitchen, voice directed towards Yuusei’s door.
“They have no sense of adventure,” he said and flicked through the sheet music for the umpteenth time that day. He needed to have it memorized in a few weeks, entirely, because that was when he needed to start playing it for his advisor. “Or understanding.”
It wasn’t in his nature to complain about others, but Judai had always been a bit of an independent spirit. Over time it had become obvious that other people didn’t share his view of the world — that was, the world was his oyster, more or less. He loved enjoying things, he loved music and performance. Judai loved having all eyes on him and he liked pulling people into exciting situations. That was the best part of playing solo backed by an orchestra, feeling the whole orchestra swell behind him and have their harmonies chase his melody.
Part of growing up, his advisor last year had said, and becoming a mature musician is compromising.
Judai didn’t believe that, still.
“It’s not really fair,” he told the wall, the hallway and Yuusei’s closed door. “Making me jump through a bunch of hoops just so other people will agree to do something with me. It’s not like i need them anyway. It just would have been nice to do that again.”
His voice sounded whiny and lonely even to his own ears for once and Judai cut himself off. And then Yuusei’s door opened.
“Do what again?” Yuusei asked and leaned against his bedroom doorframe. Judai couldn’t tell if his roommate was annoyed or not, Yuusei’s face wasn’t giving him any hints, but he wouldn’t pass up a chance at engaging.
“Come out here! I don’t want to yell.”
“You don’t have to yell, you’re just loud.” Yuusei tilted his head to the side and then pushed away from his door frame. He shut the bedroom door behind himself and moved into the kitchen to take a seat at the table.
“Just class stuff,” Judai started and turned the kitchen chair around so he could lean on the back and still see Yuusei. “You don’t have performance projects in composing, huh. Just. . .writing music projects.”
Yuusei nodded. “The pieces need to be performed, but since there’s so many students usually only the best ones are. My project’s a little different anyway.”
“Again with the mystery! It’s killing me. Literally killing me.” Judai complained.
“We were talking about your problems with class,” Yuusei prompted.
“Oh, right. Yeah, it’s just — I’m here for solo performance, you know? But I wanted to do a — I guess — duet this year for my end of year piece. There was one I did in high school and nothing was really like it. My first and last duet!” Judai grinned. It had been an experience, but he hadn’t really gotten along with anyone else like Johan, in terms of play style. They had had a frenetic kind of connection where they could push and pull each other along while playing.
And, in a weird way, there had been times when Judai felt like he had been the one chasing Johan, not the other way around. Ever since then he hadn’t had any experience like that though. He also hadn’t played the Passacaglia since then either.
“So you were going to try the same piece?” Yuusei asked.
“Well, yeah,” Judai laughed. “It was a lot of fun to play.”
Yuusei’s lips twitched and Judai swore he could almost see a small smile there. It wasn’t quite a full smile but like the beginning of a smile that never got to fully form.
“Maybe it’s not the piece.”
“Huh?”
“Think on that, and try to think inside your head this time.” Yuusei shook his head.
“I didn’t know you were in! Or, well, I guess I didn’t really care if you were or not.” Judai admitted with a shrug. “But I don’t know your schedule, so it’s hard to tell. I think better out loud sometimes.”
“I’m not sure that’s true at all,” Yuusei said.
The numbness started in Judai’s left index finger, two days before his end of year recital. It persisted well after the performance and the weeks that followed. The recital wasn’t really worth dwelling on — he did fine, he did better than fine. His advisor said he was in fine form, as always, and just as charismatic, as always. As expected of a natural talent.
Summer break at the Academy was short, only a few weeks, and Judai intended to spend almost all of it doing nothing related to school. Sho and Misawa were studying and even Manjoume was working on prep for his senior year. Asuka had graduated and her parting gift to them all had been a stern behave yourselves. Manjoume had been certain that meant she cared — specifically about him — but the other guys weren’t entirely sure.
The numbness had spread to his middle finger, too, halfway through summer break.
“We should do something,” Judai commented. Yuusei looked up from his — homework? Judai wasn’t exactly sure, but it looked suspiciously like homework — and then looked back down at ti without answering. It was the first summer that they had been home at the same time for most of the time and Judai found it kind of refreshing. It mostly meant that he could bother Yuusei when he wanted to and since Yuusei was so private when Judai didn’t feel like talking to anyone, Yuusei didn’t harass him. It was a win-win, basically.
“You have time off too, right?”
“Yes,” Yuusei said, finally.
“So, let’s go somewhere! Or do something. I’m in the mood. We could go out to eat or take a day trip to the mountains. There’s even a nearby lake.” Judai ticked off the places on his fingers and then grinned. “Check out the old train yard. There’s rumors that it’s haunted.”
“There’s no such things as hauntings.” Yuusei sounded disinterested.
“Nothing holding us back from going, then!” Judai stood up and grabbed his keys off the counter. “I need to stretch my legs. You’ll drive, right?”
“. . . yeah, I’ll drive.” Yuusei shook his head but picked up his papers and made a brief detour to stick them on his desk in his room before also getting his keys. “We could take your car.” He pointed out.
“Yeah, but I don’t feel like driving.” Judai countered with a grin. “Your car probably has more gas in it, anyway.”
Judai liked to play chicken with his gas tank — or as he called it, feeling out the bottom. He had only run out of gas while on the road once, which seemed like a pretty good record for as often as he drove. Anything to make the mundane world more interesting, really.
“Full tank,” Yuusei confirmed.
Yuusei drove a practical small Honda — but he must have tampered with the engine or something. The small car had an unexpectedly fast acceleration and Judai could feel the thrum of the engine, which was not the case in any other small Honda he’d been in.
“Woah, woah — did you fix it up?” He asked, leaned forward and tapped the dashboard with his knuckles. “What’s it called, modded it?”
Yuusei snorted. “Yeah, something like that. A friend owns a garage.”
“You have friends?” Judai asked and then laughed. “I never you see you hang with them. You never have them over.”
“You don’t, either.”
Judai looked out the window. It was true. Usually they all met on neutral ground — the dorms, because it was central and easy. Judai was the only one who lived off campus and even though it was a short walk he’d never dragged any of them over. It hadn’t really occurred him to, but also there was something to be said for a home space that was entirely his own — well, his and Yuusei’s.
“If you think I’m bad, imagine all of us over at once!”
“I like kids.” Yuusei said with a straight face.
“Eh? Huh! You can’t say that, we have to be close to the same age!” Judai demanded. “How old are you, anyway?”
“Nineteen.”
“No way! No way!” Judai repeated, “I’m twenty.”
“My bad,” Yuusei deadpanned.
“You don’t have any right telling me that I’m a kid,” Judai admonished, but without any real heat. He had always assumed Yuusei was a year older, at least. “Man, you’re such a prude.”
“Excuse me?” Yuusei looked away from the road to give Judai a bemused expression. “A prude.”
“I mean, this is the most we’ve talked in the like, three years we’ve been roommates.”
“Two and a bit.”
“Two and a bit! But, man, you must be a shitty date.” Judai shook his head in mock disappointment. Yuusei pressed his lips into a thin line and for a moment Judai thought that he was hurt by the words. A few moments passed and then Yuusei suddenly burst out laughing. It was quiet laughter, even though the gesture shook his entire body his hands stayed steady on the wheel of the car.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Yuusei finally answer. “Why, are you looking for a date?”
“Nah, we’re not really compatible — “ Judai waved his hand, “I mean, me and people in general. I don’t like being held back by others.”
Yuusei shrugged, but didn’t reply to that. Judai couldn’t figure out why he said that, to Yuusei of all people. Between the two of them, Yuusei seemed like the more antisocial by far. Judai had friends, he went out and he had fun — that was good enough.
“Do you believe that it’s haunted?” Yuusei asked, after a while.
“Huh?”
“The train yard.”
“Oh, no, no way. It just seemed like fun,” Judai laughed. “And if it is haunted, won’t that be interest! I don’t know how to deal with ghosts, so I’ll be depending on you!”
“Ghosts aren’t real.” Yuusei answered. “It’s not really abandoned either.”
“What? Everyone calls it the Abandoned Train Yard.”
“It’s not used that often, I looked it up on the internet. It’s mostly a midway stop for freight cars.”
Judai slumped down in his seat. “Man, you take all the fun out of it.”
“Because I did research?”
“Yeah, I mean — isn’t it better to see what’s there then ruin the surprise? Venturing into the unknown and all. You have to take your kicks where you can get them, Yuusei.” Judai complained. Research was boring.
“Are you already bored of school?” Yuusei pulled into the train yard lot anyway and turned off the engine. He turned in his seat, without undoing the seatbelt, and turned his whole focus onto Judai. “I would have thought it would keep you busy enough.”
“It does, if you do all the assignments,” Judai rolled his eyes. “And everyone knows you’re not expected to do them all. It’s just another barrier to try and show we’re serious, but of course I’m serious! They can see it in my playing anyway, so why do the busy work?”
“I guess that’s your way of doing well,” Yuusei didn’t argue it, didn’t tell Judai he had to do his homework. He didn’t give any of the usual responses that Judai was used to getting. It was kind of weird, how easily he accepted it, Judai kept expecting some kind of scolding to come from it. “Should we take a look?”
“Even after you’ve ruined it? You bet!” Judai got out of the car. Yuusei followed suit.
“Even after I ruined it.” Yuusei agreed, almost under his breath. He had thought to bring a flashlight, something Judai hadn’t. The train yard was eerie enough to be haunted. There were a lot of abandoned trains that had been left on incomplete tracks or tracks so old that grass and greenery had taken over. There was one set of tracks still in good condition but that only seemed to add to the eerieness.
“It’s said that at midnight, the meat man’s train comes down this track!” Judai tapped it with his foot. “And if you get on the train then he’ll murder you with his meat hook and eat your insides. Isn’t that cool?”
“Not really,” Yuusei said with a small groan. “That’s gross.”
“I wouldn’t mind meeting him, what kind of person do you think he is?” Judai walked down the track. Yuusei walked along side him, sweeping the flashlight back and forth to illuminate the track, the scrub nearby and the broken chain link fence that ran along the track.
“Are you asking me what I think a make believe serial cannibal murderer looks like?”
“It sounds really bad when you put it that way, Yuusei.”
“Yeah, I guess it does. I don’t know, I guess he’d look like a regular guy.”
Judai turned on his heel in the tracks and started walking backwards. He didn’t trip, avoided catching the wood slats with his heels, even though he couldn’t see them. Then he threw his arms wide the kind of gesture that seemed grand and foreboding in the night gloom. Yuusei shined the light on him, just to catch Judai’s smile and the slightly unfocused look in his eyes, before Judai swung his arms back down his sides.
“I don’t. He would have to be evil, right? So he’d look evil too — a big black coat, maybe a black hat or mask! The kind of person you would look at and definitely see them as the villain.”
“Yeah?” Yuusei asked. “That would be nice.”
The numbness in his hand only worried Judai when he hit his hand against one of the metal music stands hard enough to slice the skin and cause bleeding and he couldn’t feel it. He had figured that since his fingers hadn’t slowed down and they still moved, that nothing was seriously wrong. But there he was on the second class of the fall semester with blood running down his hand and he had only noticed because of the wetness seeping into his sleeve collar.
“Hahaha, it’s been going on for a few days, I guess?” Judai told the nurse when asked about it. More like, it had been a few months, but nothing had really interrupted his life. It wasn’t like he had lost use of his hand or anything.
“You should probably go to the doctor,” she said. “We can bandage your cut, but I’m afraid your hand might have a more serious problem over all.”
“Huh? I can use it just fine.”
“I insist, let me write you a referral.”
The nurse stuck a butterfly bandage on the gash on Judai’s hand — the four adhesive wings holding the cut skin closed. That he only barely felt, it was like a distant itch happening in someone else’s body that he just happened to know about.
“It might be a tough conversation, it might be good to have your parents on hand or someone else you rely on.” She smiled at him, a little pitying. Judai smiled back at her, though his stomach rolled at the pity. There wasn’t any other feeling in the world he hated being on the receiving end more.
There wasn’t any way that he was going to call his parents — they were footing the bill for school but —
Judai asked Yuusei to go with him instead, sort of. Mostly he grabbed Yuusei’s keys and burst into his room one night, assuming Yuusei would be home and working on homework (which he was) and asked for a ride the next morning. Yuusei agreed, didn’t ask what for and when he dropped Judai off at his appointment, he didn’t ask any questions either.
But, when Judai called him forty minutes later, Yuusei was there in five. “Hey, how’d it go?” He asked, after Judai got back in the car.
“I guess it’s like carpal tunnel or something,” Judai shrugged. “I’ll get a fancy brace and after that there’s always surgery. But it seems at least part of it is here to stay forever.” It wasn’t really, just carpal tunnel. But that was close enough and while Judai had been given a handful of pamphlets on the whole arthritic and carpal tunnel bundle, he had thrown them away.
“That’s a big thing to hear,” Yuusei said, almost cautiously. “How do you feel about it?”
Judai rolled down the window and leaned so he could hang his head out for a moment. The wind rushing by his face blurred his vision and made his eyes water, but it also cleared his head.
“What happens, happens, right?”
“There are some things we can’t control,” Yuusei agreed. “Anywhere you want to stop, on the way home?”
Judai thought about it. In honesty, Yuusei was right. It was a ‘big thing’ — even if he got surgery in his wrist, there was not telling if that would change how he played. He was keeping pace now but eventually his hands would cramp and lose finger strength. A brace could help alleviate the pressure but it was a pretty damning conclusion when it came to his playing. It wasn’t really worth it to play at a lower level.
He thought he would have been more sad, if he was told that eventually he’d have to stop playing. It was the only thing Judai had done consistently — that he could remember, anyway. For a decade or so, music had been the constant in his life.
“I don’t know, maybe, anywhere?” Judai said and grinned.
“Anywhere, sure.” Yuusei said and turned onto the highway.
Anywhere ended up being an indoor miniature golf course on the lake. It was usually a tourist destination but since it was fall, it was closed. Yuusei pulled into the parking lot anyway and got out. He went around to the other side of the car and opened Judai’s door too, gestured with his hand. It was a little like a welcoming wave.
“Here we are, anywhere.”
Yuusei led Judai around to the back, where he hopped the fence. “Need a hand over?”
“No way! I didn’t think you were the trespassing type.” Judai grinned and clamored over the fence as well. “You do this often?”
“Not really.”
There weren’t any lights but a little sunlight filtered in through the windows — that hadn’t been cleaned since last tourist season. It gave everything a yellowish tint and made the already bizarre animatronic animals at each hole look even weirder. The first hole was dominated by a large toon rabbit that was hitting a dragon with a hammer. The second, some kind of weird deer with overly dramatic ear tufts. The third, a pink bird in shoes.
“Spooky,” Judai commented, walked right up on the fake turf to examine the rabbit. “Serious nightmare fuel, even.”
“I thought you might like it,” Yuusei commented. “Maybe too kiddish, compared to a haunted train yard.”
That made Judai laugh. “I don’t really care about the haunted or creepy factor, you know? It’s more, getting to see something I haven’t before — that’s exciting.”
“Just new experiences and adrenaline?” Yuusei asked.
“You make it sound so boring,” Judai continued walking. Each hole seemed to have its own obscene animal, or set of animals. “Don’t you think that every day life can be pretty boring?”
Yuusei followed along and then walked up the small hill on hole five, where there was a superhero posed on a building. A monstrous dragon creature near the bottom of the building probably shifted to block the tunnel, when the power was on.
“Not really. Everyone has their own. . .” He trailed off.
“Own what?”
“Charm?” Yuusei tried. Then revised that, “Rhythm.”
“Rhythm?” Judai moved to the other side of the building and then sat down on top of it. He rested his feet on the monstrous dragon. “Are you about to tell me I just need to read their time signature?”
“No — just.” Yuusei scratched his cheek. “You just need to listen carefully, to really get why they’re wonderful.”
Judai shut his eyes then and listened. He did the same thing he did when learning a piece — not thinking, not focusing, just letting the music flow through him. Only, there wasn’t any music. There was the muted fluttering of yellow paper that had been put in the windows being rustled by the wind. There was Yuusei’s breathing, slow and steady. There was Judai’s own breathing, his own heartbeat, the feel of the plastic building beneath him and smell of plastic turf, miniature golf club leather wrapped handles and mothballs.
“Judai?” Yuusei asked.
“Keep talking,” Judai said.
“About what?”
“Anything.”
Judai kept his eyes shut. Yuusei cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. Judai could picture what kind of shoes Yuusei was wearing, just by the sound alone — heavy work boots, totally at odds with his slacks and button down.
“I’m glad we started talking more.” Yuusei started and then stopped and paused. The silence stretched for three long breaths. “I guess — I’ve been lonely.”
Judai tilted his head to the side, but he kept listening silently.
“Ah — I’m also doing a six year program because I barely passed last year.” Yuusei sounded rueful. “School’s not really my thing, I envy you sometimes. I’ve heard you play — it’s really, really good. I’d be honored if you ever played something I wrote. But, you play a little selfishly too, I think. The orchestra always has to race to catch up with you. You can hear it, if you listen to it, but that — seems like you. Sorry. I don’t really know what to say, this all sounds kind of stupid, huh?” He trailed off.
There was a particular way that Yuusei talked. All the words were dropped out of his mouth at once, it made it sound like he was a slow speaker — because everything sounded deliberate, but he was a deceptively fast talker. His rhythm of speaking was a little awkward, not quite confident and had the same feeling that an open posture looked.
“I’ve got it.” Judai said and opened his eyes. “I’ve got you.”
Yuusei looked surprised but then he ducked his head. “Well, that makes one of us, I haven’t got you at all.”
“Just the way I like it!” Judai hopped off the building. “Come on, we have like thirteen more holes to go, right?”
“Yeah, we do.”
Judai dropped out of the conservatory. He didn’t tell any of his friends, or his parents, or Yuusei. There was no avoiding it though when he was home at the apartment and his phone rang. He let it go to voicemail. It rang again. The cycle continued until Yuusei poked his head out of his bedroom.
“Is someone calling?” He asked.
“Just my parents,” Judai said.
Yuusei’s expression softened. “You should pick up.”
“I dropped out,” Judai shrugged, “They’re calling about that. There’s not a lot to say.”
“You don’t get along with your parents?” Yuusei rushed to add, “Sorry. None of my business.”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry! I know exactly what I’m doing, this is how it always is.” Judai grinned and gave him a thumbs up. “I won’t slack on rent, so that won’t be an issue. Besides, this is the next new and exciting chapter in my life.”
“If you ever want to talk,” Yuusei left the statement hang, but when he returned to his room he also left his door open. He didn’t question Judai’s dropping out or anything.
Judai wouldn’t take him up on the offer, that day. But he does, when two days later Yuusei gets a call from Judai’s parents. Judai wasn’t privy to the conversation but he was to Yuusei’s facial expressions. They went from being somewhat bemused and vaguely endeared to neutral to stormy.
“Yes, I’m ‘the roommate’.”
“Sorry, I don’t know.”
“— that’s too bad. . .?”
“No.”
“No.”
“No.”
“. . .”
“. . . no.”
“Goodbye.” There was a sense of finality in that goodbye though. Definitely a ‘may we never meet’ sound as opposed to a ‘see you tomorrow’ sound. Judai didn’t bring it up, and neither did Yuusei. Judai, because he didn’t know what to say and he was sure Yuusei didn’t out of politeness, or respect for his personal space. The conversation became a sort of elephant in the room though and over pizza — one with no sauce or cheese, just vegetables and one with extra cheese and extra pepperoni — Judai blurted out.
“We don’t talk.”
“Judai?”
“My parents and I, we don’t talk.” He waved a hand. “They talk, but they never listen. Or sometimes they don’t talk.” It was a bad summary but Judai couldn’t really figure out how to phrase it. There wasn’t an easy way to explain that even though his parents had been around when he was growing up it was like they were never there. He could see Yuusei’s thought process on his face though. Concern, bafflement and then a regretful sort of smile.
“I was envious, of you for a while.” Yuusei confessed. “I never knew my parents.”
“Well, that makes two of us.” Judai laughed, a little.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry but — “
“I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s not fun or interesting for me, so it’s not really worth it.” Judai stuffed half of a piece of pizza into his mouth and spoke with his mouth full. “Get it?”
“Not really. Maybe I should take a page out of your book,” Yuusei settled his elbows on the table and propped his chin up on his hand. “Talk, about anything, and I’ll listen.”
“I didn’t think you were a musician, composer, right?”
“Hey, I played piano, for a while.” Yuusei shut his eyes and turned his face to the side a little. “Say whatever you want.”
So Judai talked. He started with descriptions of all of his friends — from Manjoume’s weak points to what made him fun, the fact that Sho was an observer, a thinker, the kind of person who wrote down their lives as music pieces. Judai talked about Misawa’s terrible taste in atonal music but also his brilliant mind and photographic memory. He talked about Asuka, and wondered where she was now, he could look her up or track her down on social media but he just hadn’t gotten around to it. His classes were — had been — boring, his teachers mostly silly or conniving, school had too many papers when they were there to make music, not write essays. It was, definitely, the kind of insight that his friends would have been surprised to hear.
“I’m not as good at this as you are.” Yuusei said, when Judai’s chatter trailed off. “But I think I understand a little more. Even if I get the feeling you’re holding back on me.”
“Would I really do that?” Judai asked.
Yuusei just smiled at him.
Yuusei asked for Judai’s help with his end of year project — but for the life of him, Judai couldn’t quite figure out what Yuusei was even doing. They went through all of Judai’s CDs, half concert material and half pop music with one or two eclectic mixes thrown in. They sorted them by easy to listen to, difficult to listen to and things that were interesting but maybe not favorites.
The most infuriating part, really, was that Yuusei wouldn’t give any input at all and made Judai do all the sorting. He said it was because that’s what was needed, but Judai did wonder, if Yuusei didn’t have any real preferences at all.
“What kind of music do you listen to?” Judai asked.
“Whatever my friends give me,” Yuusei shrugged. “I have mixed tastes.”
“Isn’t that just a roundabout way to say you have no taste?”
“Maybe it is,” Yuusei agreed.
Juda laughed and threw one of the CD cases at Yuusei. It bounced off his chest and to the carpet. “Come on, what’s something you like?”
“I like a lot of things.”
“Something specific.” Judai flicked another CD case at him. “Or maybe, something you don’t like?”
“You’ll scratch your CDs,” Yuusei pointed out and caught the third CD case that Judai threw at him.
Judai then scooped up the whole pile of CD cases and walked over to Yuusei. They met each others’ gazes, the sort of long measuring look where Yuusei’s expression clearly read You aren’t going to and Judai’s: Definitely going to.
He dropped the entire armful of cases on Yuusei with a clatter. Some of them popped open and sent CDs spilling everywhere and others just bounced and clattered. Yuusei didn’t move, just let them fall around him and then started gathering them up again, to resort them.
“I like it best when people treat things with respect.”
“Things? Like, everything?”
“Everything, because everything is worth something.” Yuusei said firmly. Judai had to laugh again but he sank down to sit next to Yuusei.
“I can’t say that isn’t a nice sentiment.” Was his response, not quite agreeing at all.
“I’m going to compose music you would like to play,” Yuusei said. The change in conversation made Judai look over at him. Yuusei was looking down at the CDs, arranging them in an order that didn’t seem to make sense. “Music just for you.”
“Is that your end of year project? Pretty lame.” Judai reached over and fixed Yuusei’s arrangement. “This is the order I’d listen to these in.”
“It’s easier to compose for someone, than myself.” Yuusei wrote down the names of the CDs. “Will you play it, when I’m done?”
“Only if it’s good.” Judai winked. “So you better impress me.”
Judai didn’t see Yuusei for the next two weeks, it was like they were back to square one where Judai didn’t know anything about his roommate. Yuusei was always working, either in his room or on campus and when Judai did see him, he had earphones in and was plunking away on his laptop obsessively.
In his free time, Judai did everything but play. He tried cooking and then he tried fishing — the lake was close enough he could do an afternoon trip. He picked up a part time at the coffee shop near campus. Ultimately, all his small distractions were just that, though, distractions.
Two days before the deadline for Yuusei’s project, Judai burst into his bedroom out of boredom. “Yuusei.”
“Hm?” Yuusei didn’t take his headphones off.
“Come on.”
“Judai, not now.” Yuusei did shut his laptop though.
“I’m bored and you’re probably ready to pull your hair out.”
“Not really, but go ahead,” Yuusei looked amused. Or, vaguely amused. Despite being able to tell Yuusei’s state of being through his tone of voice, Judai still hadn’t quite gotten as good at reading Yuusei’s facial expressions.
“Take a break.”
“I’m almost done, I’ve been trying hard to impress you.” Yuusei deadpanned.
“Well, you either will have or will not have by now, surely! Another few hours won’t make or break it.”
Yuusei did relent, because Judai had a point. Though, in the end, Yuusei ended up driving Judai to the grocery store and then the Home Depot and then back to the apartment and helped him build a bookshelf. It was not, really, that refreshing or interesting to either of them. But if asked, Yuusei would admit that when he got back to composing, after they returned home, it was exactly the break he needed.
Yuusei’s final project ended up netting him a B+, after all that work. Not that he told Judai, instead he simply provided the sheet music to him the weekend after the semester had ended. Titled “the Fifth Try” — because, it was the fifth iteration of the piece — and for solo violin and solo violin.
“How can it be for solo violin twice?” Judai asked.
“It’s like table music.” Yuusei, in a rare gesture of uncertainty, chewed his lower lip. “So if you play it on a loop, then it accompanies itself.”
“Well, that’s genius.” Judai laughed. “Are you saying I can’t accompany someone else?”
“I would never.” Yuusei replied, cheerful but subdued. “I know you haven’t played in a while — but I’d be more than honored.”
Judai looked the piece over. It, honestly, wasn’t that complicated or even that enticing. However, he hadn’t ever had a piece of music composed just for him and beyond that he was certain that Yuusei had included some kind of Easter Egg. Something hidden in the music that could only be unlocked if played.
Not that Judai knew much about Yuusei’s composing skills, but almost everything he said or did had a double meaning to it, a softer more hidden meaning underneath the words.
He didn’t want to play again, but he also wanted to know. And, surely, the piece would sound different if played by someone else.
“You don’t have to.” Yuusei added.
Judai smiled, broad and bright and a little uneven. “I’ll play it just once.” He said.
The two pieces referenced: Passacaglia & Mendelssohn.
Judai was pretty certain that his roommate wasn’t a music student, on the other hand, they had been roommates for two and a half years now and he still didn’t really know. They’d talked, and yet Judai didn’t seem to ever figure anything out about him — except that Yuusei had a part time job that involved heavy lifting, paid rent on time and spent a lot of time on his computer. They had opposing schedules, was mostly the issue. Judai had morning classes and then performance practice and usually went out in the early evening. Yuusei apparently — probably? — had evening classes and worked at night. The arrangement was all right with Judai, though, it was a lot better than having a finicky roommate or a needy one. He liked the freedom that came with independence, that was the best part of college, after all.
But one night out with the guys and they asked if he knew that his roommate had been down in the sound booth in the little theater and what exactly was he doing and Judai didn’t have any answer for them.
“Isn’t it weird, to not know what your own roommate does?” Shou asked, pushed his glasses up and tried to look disapproving.
“I said we have opposing schedules, sheesh,” Judai rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, tipping it back onto two legs. But also, Yuusei was just a quiet guy. He tended to give one sentence — or one word — answers to everything. Judai, naturally talkative, usually took the lion’s share of the conversation. “Besides, are you telling me I should be nosier? Hey! First time for everything.” And with that, he leaned forward again, the chair thumping back down onto all four feet.
“Oh, now you’ve done it,” Asuka — who was ‘one of the guys’ — sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose a little. “I feel bad for his roommate.”
“Ha! If Judai’s roommate can’t take the heat he should get out of the kitchen!” Manjoume said, which didn’t make any sense to anyone, but they were drinking in the foyer of Asuka’s dorm building and whenever that happened — only at Asuka’s place — Manjoume drank hard and fast and tried to pass it off as an excuse to clumsily hit on her. (The response was always, well, it could be worse, he could be my brother.)
“Yuusei seems like an agreeable guy,” Judai nodded along with Manjoume’s comment. “I’m glad you brought this to my attention, Shou! I’ll remedy it immediately.”
“Now, now — I mean, really — “ Shou fumbled for his words before taking a breath and spitting out, “I don’t think you should mess with him too much. I mean, having a stable roommate is a good thing!”
“Oh, don’t worry, if he kicks me out we can room together.” Judai winked at Shou.
Asuka snorted into her beer and Manjoume, who didn’t have much tact at the best of times, started laughing uproariously.
“I — it, I mean, if you were in a pinch but,” Shou helplessly tried to push the idea away. They had all been friends with Judai long enough to know that any combination of them living together was a terrible idea. Judai and Manjoume had been roommates at summer camp one year and their combined powers had set a cabin (not theirs) on fire and also lost a boat in the lake, somehow. Shou hadn’t had the good luck of rooming with Judai yet, but after having most of his classes with him for a year he could only imagine how terrible sharing living space would go. Asuka, being a year older and much wiser than all of them, could tell within the first five minutes of meeting Judai that they wouldn’t be compatible like that. Though, it had taken her the last two years to also deem him unworthy of a possible date.
“Thanks, thanks for the offer!” Judai grinned. “So, who’s up for another round?”
The bottle was passed around — a mix of vodka and Mountain Dew that was certainly disgusting but no one complained. Closer to half and half than it really should be but once they drank enough the motor fuel aftertaste of the cheap vodka went away.
“Surprised you’re not first chair yet,” Asuka commented, after all their cups had been filled. “I heard you’re going after people with a vengeance.”
Judai laughed and waved a hand. “Me? A vengeance? No way, I’ve never met them!”
“It’s true, though,” Misawa spoke up. He was sitting a bit away from them, pencilling in notes in his sheet music. Misawa was always studying, even during their drinking parties and everyone had learned long ago to just let him do it. “Judai’s made five challenges in the past semester alone.”
“How many did you make last year?” Shou asked.
“Oh, I don’t know!” Judai shrugged.
“At least one,” Manjoume complained. Manjoume had been Judai’s first challenge, last year. They had both been new violinists to the Performance Orchestra and seat partners with Manjoum sitting prime and Judai secondary, until Judai had challenged him on the first day of class.
Of course, that had only been after Judai had been informed that he couldn’t just challenge the first chair for his spot, he had to do things the proper way. No jumping the line so to speak.
“Seventeen,” Misawa provided. Asuka gave a low whistle. Judai was slowly challenging his way up through the entire violin section. All underclassmen started in the second violin section as a default, but Judai was already in the first section.
“I’ve still got a long way to go,” Judai said, but it wasn’t said with humility at all, but excitement. “I don’t know what I’ll do once I get to the top. I mean, I belong there, but part of the fun is in the challenge itself.”
“I feel bad for everyone you’ve taken down,” Shou bemoaned. He was glad that as a composition student and not a performance student he didn’t have to deal with being challenged. Just putting out perfect work all the time, which was stressful enough.
“Huh? Why? They know the dangers. It’s not my fault! Besides, a challenge is thrilling! Right, Manjoume? Right?” Judai elbowed Manjoume a few times, fairly aggressively.
“What? Stop it! Judai!” Manjoume elbowed back.
“Er — “ Asuka tried to interrupt, but by then the topic of conversation was lost.
“Exactly what I said, right, Manjoume?” Judai beamed.
“Who asked you!” Manjoume snapped and tried to dump his drink in Judai. Either by dumb luck or some strangely calculating seemingly drunk move, Judai ducked under Manjoume’s hand and bumped his elbow up — which resulted in the Vodka-Dew sloshing all over Manjoume instead.
“Here we go again,” Asuka sighed.
“I’ll get the paper towels,” Shou offered.
Judai cornered Yuusei on Sunday morning. He didn’t have class and he assumed that Yuusei’s job would let out early — which meant he laid a roommate trap at midnight. It wasn’t really that complicated of a trap, mostly it was making sure he had snacks and entertainment ready while he waited, lounging on Yuusei’s bed in his room.
Even Yuusei’s room didn’t give many hints to what kind of person he was. The walls were bare, the desk had a computer — home built — and while the floor was covered in books and boxes of computer parts and clothes, nothing seemed particularly incriminating. Judai had even poked around to see if he could find a porn stash or something and only came up with a shoebox filled with letters from home. Judai had started reading them but they were all boring, just the normal how are you kind of thing.
He planned on waiting until Yuusei came home and then locking Yuusei in his own room and running an interrogation. Or something like that. Judai’s stakeout snacks included Doritos and cans of Starbucks Doubleshot and the homework he was supposed to be doing. But 2 a.m. rolled around and with no sign of Yuusei, Judai fell asleep in his bed.
It was five when Judai was shaken awake. “Judai.”
“Mn.” Judai replied.
“Judai.” Yuusei said again and shook him a little harder. “Are you okay?”
Judai opened his eyes, looked at Yuusei and then rolled over and shut his eyes again. “Let me sleep.”
“You’re in my bed.”
“Let me sleep.”
Yuusei sighed. Judai could hear him shifting things around, boxes of things being nudged across the carpet and a backpack being set down.
“Sorry if you’re having a hard time, but I don’t really think. . .” Yuusei knelt down and scooped Judai up into his arms. “This is appropriate.”
“I’ve gotta ask you a thing,” Judai sighed.
“Ask me tomorrow,” Yuusei said and walked down the hall to deposit Judai in his own bed. “And please, don’t go through my stuff.”
“Don’t be so private, then!” Judai practically shouted. Yuusei shut the room to his door.
The next morning, for the first time in two and a half years, Yuusei was sitting at the kitchen table when Judai woke up. There was coffee already made and a pile of bagels on the counter. Yuusei looked up from the newspaper — he was reading the actual physical paper — with what could only be described as a mildly disappointed expression.
“What was that about?” Yuusei didn’t even say good morning.
“Blaugh,” Judai said and went for the coffee.
“Judai.” Yuusei said.
“One sec,” Judai got himself coffee, added two spoonfuls of sugar and snagged a bagel before sitting down opposite of Yuusei. “I was just waiting up for you, but I fell asleep. It wasn’t anything like snooping! Your room is a mess, by the way.”
“You went through my letters,” Yuusei said, mildly. “And got Dorito crumbs in my bed.”
“I didn’t really! I just looked at them before realizing how dull they were.” Judai shrugged and completely ignored the unimpressed-to-annoyed change in Yuusei’s expression.
“Those are personal.”
“Look, don’t get mad, I didn’t really read them! It’s fine. I just wanted to get to know you better, we’ve been roommates for how long? And we still haven’t had a real conversation!”
Yuusei sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. His face didn’t show it, but Judai figured the gesture had to be something like embarrassment. He hoped it wasn’t an extension of annoyance.
“So, let’s talk.”
“Are you a student at the conservatory?” Judai started with the most obvious question. He hadn’t shared any classes with Yuusei, but that didn’t mean anything. He only had shared the one class with Shou, and none with Asuka — though he had gotten to know her through their mutuals.
“I am,” Yuusei nodded. “Composing, sort of.”
“Huh? But — I mean, Shou’s composing too and he never mentioned you!”
“We don’t share any classes, probably,” Yuusei shrugged. “I have an alternative schedule, I’m on a six year program, not four.”
Judai blinked. He didn’t know of any six year programs — he was in for a four year, and so was everyone else he knew. What was even the point of six years?
“That is way too much school.” He laughed. “So, what’s with the two extra years?”
“Programming,” Yuusei answered.
Judai ate the rest of his bagel and calculated his next move. He wasn’t sure if Yuusei was being reticent or if this was some kind of game where Yuusei told Judai as little as possible while still being forthcoming. It was a little weird, actually. Most people who didn’t want to be talked to were much more upfront about it or downright unpleasant. In contrast Yuusei seemed friendly if abrupt. He didn’t give any extra information but didn’t seem to be holding back either.
“What kind of programming?”
Yuusei smiled, a bit slyly, even. Judai found himself leaning across the table in anticipation of a really good answer.
Instead, Yuusei said: “Now, that’s a secret.”
“Eh? What! No way! C’mon, Yuusei!” Judai pleaded. Yuusei shook his head. “It’s not some weird government secret? Or like — a fate of the world thing, right? So you can go ahead and tell me, right?”
“I’ll tell you when it’s done,” Yuusei paused, and then added, “And if you snoop around I’ll never tell you.”
“That’s definitely not fair,” Judai protested. Yuusei shrugged.
“It might not be, but that’s how it’s going to be.”
No matter what Judai offered in trade, Yuusei wouldn’t budge on revealing his secret project. In the end, Judai hadn’t learned anything too interesting about his roommate, but this didn’t mean he would give it. It just meant he had to get more creative about what he asked.
The game was on.
Orchestral playing was a necessity for all performance instrument students at the academy. Judai much preferred solo work, but there wasn’t any real getting around orchestral either. The thing about it was — in solo with an orchestra, everyone had to follow his lead, when he was part of the orchestra he had to follow along other people’s cues. It was the same reason why Judai didn’t do ensemble work, as a general rule.
On the other hand, he really, really, wanted to play the Passacaglia for violin and viola again. It had been his performance piece in high school — and his conductor had almost cried tears of happiness to find that Judai could play a duet, essentially. The entire senior year had been a struggle of trying to get Judai to “play nice with others”, to which Judai mostly asked others to chase him.
That was their part in it after all. A first violin led with the melody and everyone else was supposed to follow. Plus, Judai was a natural talent with a perfect ear, getting held back by boring things (and boring people) wasn’t really fair to him.
“Misawaaaaa,” Judai tried.
“Judai, it wouldn’t work out.” Misawa said, graciously.
“C’mon, you won’t know until we try!”
“I think, between the two of us, I have a better idea of whether or not I can keep up with you.” Misawa pointed out. “Your style just isn’t compatible with mine.”
“What do you mean? You’re one of the best, almost as good as me!” Judai waved his hand. “Surely it will be work out just fine.”
“The answer is no,” Misawa shook his head.
Judai groaned, dramatically, but knew it wouldn’t be worth badgering Misawa again. The previous year they had both competed for the solo spot of the Jr. Orchestra and ended up tying but since then Misawa seemed more and more interested in weird atonal music. Judai had even heard that Misawa might change from performance to conducting too which was even weirder. There wasn’t any point in being a conductor, he was certain, everyone went to concerts to listen to the performers. It was musicians who became well known by the lay person, not conductors.
In fact, every conversation Judai had with any viola player he knew went much the same way. In the case of one freshman they just backed away shaking their head and fled. Which, Judai thought, was hilarious but a little unnecessary.
It had put him in a bit of a mood — not quite a negative one, but a dissatisfied one. The Passacaglia had been one of the best performance experiences in his life and he kind of wanted to recapture that feeling. Plus, he would need at least one big performance piece to wrap up the year and if he didn’t choose one soon he’d get stuck doing something that the teachers would assign to him.
“Why not just do a solo piece?” Sho asked.
“Ehhh,” Judai replied.
“You love solo pieces,” Sho pointed out. “And you know, the likelihood of finding the perfect violist for your performance. . .”
“They don’t have to be perfect, they just have to be good,” Judai grinned, “Good enough to match me! I’ll accept a rank two or three, easily.”
Sho groaned. “You know that no one’s actually going to want to accept when you talk to them that way, right?”
“Huh? In what way?”
“As much as I like you sometimes. . .” Sho shook his head. “But why not Bartok or something?”
“You too?”
“Me too what?!”
“That sounds like something that Misawa would suggest,” Judai pulled a face. Dissonant Bartok wasn’t really his thing, even if it was technically impressive. It just didn’t feel good to play. And Judai was a by ear player far more than he was a sheet music player. “Gross.”
“Hey! Bartok is well thought of by many people!”
“Exactly. I don’t care about that. I want it to be fun and exciting to play but also something I like playing. No one really likes Bartok.”
“I like Bartok!” Sho practically shouted and then buried his face in his hands. “It’s really no use talking to you sometimes. . .”
“Yeah and see where that’s gotten you?” Judai shook his head. “It’s been nice talking to you Sho, but I need to find a violist and fast.”
Sho shook his head, almost a mirror of Judai’s gesture. Sometimes it was like they were talking but not at all connecting. But that was Judai in a nutshell.
“Mendelssohn!” Sho called after him.
Judai waved a hand. He still hadn’t tried asking some of the ensemble-only players. Judai didn’t know any of them personally, but maybe they were more adventurous than his orchestral fellows. If anything, they hadn’t been subjected to watching him challenge his way up through the ranks, at least.
Though, Mendelssohn wouldn’t necessarily be a poor second choice.
It turned out that Judai really would have to do Mendelssohn, he asked literally every violist who was even close to his caliber and was turned down by every single one of them. He hadn’t played the Concerto E Minor Op. 64 before, but it suited his needs and that was, apparently, what he was doing for his junior year recital.
Yuusei’s door was shut and Judai didn’t know if he was in or not, but he took the opportunity to complain in the kitchen, voice directed towards Yuusei’s door.
“They have no sense of adventure,” he said and flicked through the sheet music for the umpteenth time that day. He needed to have it memorized in a few weeks, entirely, because that was when he needed to start playing it for his advisor. “Or understanding.”
It wasn’t in his nature to complain about others, but Judai had always been a bit of an independent spirit. Over time it had become obvious that other people didn’t share his view of the world — that was, the world was his oyster, more or less. He loved enjoying things, he loved music and performance. Judai loved having all eyes on him and he liked pulling people into exciting situations. That was the best part of playing solo backed by an orchestra, feeling the whole orchestra swell behind him and have their harmonies chase his melody.
Part of growing up, his advisor last year had said, and becoming a mature musician is compromising.
Judai didn’t believe that, still.
“It’s not really fair,” he told the wall, the hallway and Yuusei’s closed door. “Making me jump through a bunch of hoops just so other people will agree to do something with me. It’s not like i need them anyway. It just would have been nice to do that again.”
His voice sounded whiny and lonely even to his own ears for once and Judai cut himself off. And then Yuusei’s door opened.
“Do what again?” Yuusei asked and leaned against his bedroom doorframe. Judai couldn’t tell if his roommate was annoyed or not, Yuusei’s face wasn’t giving him any hints, but he wouldn’t pass up a chance at engaging.
“Come out here! I don’t want to yell.”
“You don’t have to yell, you’re just loud.” Yuusei tilted his head to the side and then pushed away from his door frame. He shut the bedroom door behind himself and moved into the kitchen to take a seat at the table.
“Just class stuff,” Judai started and turned the kitchen chair around so he could lean on the back and still see Yuusei. “You don’t have performance projects in composing, huh. Just. . .writing music projects.”
Yuusei nodded. “The pieces need to be performed, but since there’s so many students usually only the best ones are. My project’s a little different anyway.”
“Again with the mystery! It’s killing me. Literally killing me.” Judai complained.
“We were talking about your problems with class,” Yuusei prompted.
“Oh, right. Yeah, it’s just — I’m here for solo performance, you know? But I wanted to do a — I guess — duet this year for my end of year piece. There was one I did in high school and nothing was really like it. My first and last duet!” Judai grinned. It had been an experience, but he hadn’t really gotten along with anyone else like Johan, in terms of play style. They had had a frenetic kind of connection where they could push and pull each other along while playing.
And, in a weird way, there had been times when Judai felt like he had been the one chasing Johan, not the other way around. Ever since then he hadn’t had any experience like that though. He also hadn’t played the Passacaglia since then either.
“So you were going to try the same piece?” Yuusei asked.
“Well, yeah,” Judai laughed. “It was a lot of fun to play.”
Yuusei’s lips twitched and Judai swore he could almost see a small smile there. It wasn’t quite a full smile but like the beginning of a smile that never got to fully form.
“Maybe it’s not the piece.”
“Huh?”
“Think on that, and try to think inside your head this time.” Yuusei shook his head.
“I didn’t know you were in! Or, well, I guess I didn’t really care if you were or not.” Judai admitted with a shrug. “But I don’t know your schedule, so it’s hard to tell. I think better out loud sometimes.”
“I’m not sure that’s true at all,” Yuusei said.
The numbness started in Judai’s left index finger, two days before his end of year recital. It persisted well after the performance and the weeks that followed. The recital wasn’t really worth dwelling on — he did fine, he did better than fine. His advisor said he was in fine form, as always, and just as charismatic, as always. As expected of a natural talent.
Summer break at the Academy was short, only a few weeks, and Judai intended to spend almost all of it doing nothing related to school. Sho and Misawa were studying and even Manjoume was working on prep for his senior year. Asuka had graduated and her parting gift to them all had been a stern behave yourselves. Manjoume had been certain that meant she cared — specifically about him — but the other guys weren’t entirely sure.
The numbness had spread to his middle finger, too, halfway through summer break.
“We should do something,” Judai commented. Yuusei looked up from his — homework? Judai wasn’t exactly sure, but it looked suspiciously like homework — and then looked back down at ti without answering. It was the first summer that they had been home at the same time for most of the time and Judai found it kind of refreshing. It mostly meant that he could bother Yuusei when he wanted to and since Yuusei was so private when Judai didn’t feel like talking to anyone, Yuusei didn’t harass him. It was a win-win, basically.
“You have time off too, right?”
“Yes,” Yuusei said, finally.
“So, let’s go somewhere! Or do something. I’m in the mood. We could go out to eat or take a day trip to the mountains. There’s even a nearby lake.” Judai ticked off the places on his fingers and then grinned. “Check out the old train yard. There’s rumors that it’s haunted.”
“There’s no such things as hauntings.” Yuusei sounded disinterested.
“Nothing holding us back from going, then!” Judai stood up and grabbed his keys off the counter. “I need to stretch my legs. You’ll drive, right?”
“. . . yeah, I’ll drive.” Yuusei shook his head but picked up his papers and made a brief detour to stick them on his desk in his room before also getting his keys. “We could take your car.” He pointed out.
“Yeah, but I don’t feel like driving.” Judai countered with a grin. “Your car probably has more gas in it, anyway.”
Judai liked to play chicken with his gas tank — or as he called it, feeling out the bottom. He had only run out of gas while on the road once, which seemed like a pretty good record for as often as he drove. Anything to make the mundane world more interesting, really.
“Full tank,” Yuusei confirmed.
Yuusei drove a practical small Honda — but he must have tampered with the engine or something. The small car had an unexpectedly fast acceleration and Judai could feel the thrum of the engine, which was not the case in any other small Honda he’d been in.
“Woah, woah — did you fix it up?” He asked, leaned forward and tapped the dashboard with his knuckles. “What’s it called, modded it?”
Yuusei snorted. “Yeah, something like that. A friend owns a garage.”
“You have friends?” Judai asked and then laughed. “I never you see you hang with them. You never have them over.”
“You don’t, either.”
Judai looked out the window. It was true. Usually they all met on neutral ground — the dorms, because it was central and easy. Judai was the only one who lived off campus and even though it was a short walk he’d never dragged any of them over. It hadn’t really occurred him to, but also there was something to be said for a home space that was entirely his own — well, his and Yuusei’s.
“If you think I’m bad, imagine all of us over at once!”
“I like kids.” Yuusei said with a straight face.
“Eh? Huh! You can’t say that, we have to be close to the same age!” Judai demanded. “How old are you, anyway?”
“Nineteen.”
“No way! No way!” Judai repeated, “I’m twenty.”
“My bad,” Yuusei deadpanned.
“You don’t have any right telling me that I’m a kid,” Judai admonished, but without any real heat. He had always assumed Yuusei was a year older, at least. “Man, you’re such a prude.”
“Excuse me?” Yuusei looked away from the road to give Judai a bemused expression. “A prude.”
“I mean, this is the most we’ve talked in the like, three years we’ve been roommates.”
“Two and a bit.”
“Two and a bit! But, man, you must be a shitty date.” Judai shook his head in mock disappointment. Yuusei pressed his lips into a thin line and for a moment Judai thought that he was hurt by the words. A few moments passed and then Yuusei suddenly burst out laughing. It was quiet laughter, even though the gesture shook his entire body his hands stayed steady on the wheel of the car.
“Yeah, you’re right.” Yuusei finally answer. “Why, are you looking for a date?”
“Nah, we’re not really compatible — “ Judai waved his hand, “I mean, me and people in general. I don’t like being held back by others.”
Yuusei shrugged, but didn’t reply to that. Judai couldn’t figure out why he said that, to Yuusei of all people. Between the two of them, Yuusei seemed like the more antisocial by far. Judai had friends, he went out and he had fun — that was good enough.
“Do you believe that it’s haunted?” Yuusei asked, after a while.
“Huh?”
“The train yard.”
“Oh, no, no way. It just seemed like fun,” Judai laughed. “And if it is haunted, won’t that be interest! I don’t know how to deal with ghosts, so I’ll be depending on you!”
“Ghosts aren’t real.” Yuusei answered. “It’s not really abandoned either.”
“What? Everyone calls it the Abandoned Train Yard.”
“It’s not used that often, I looked it up on the internet. It’s mostly a midway stop for freight cars.”
Judai slumped down in his seat. “Man, you take all the fun out of it.”
“Because I did research?”
“Yeah, I mean — isn’t it better to see what’s there then ruin the surprise? Venturing into the unknown and all. You have to take your kicks where you can get them, Yuusei.” Judai complained. Research was boring.
“Are you already bored of school?” Yuusei pulled into the train yard lot anyway and turned off the engine. He turned in his seat, without undoing the seatbelt, and turned his whole focus onto Judai. “I would have thought it would keep you busy enough.”
“It does, if you do all the assignments,” Judai rolled his eyes. “And everyone knows you’re not expected to do them all. It’s just another barrier to try and show we’re serious, but of course I’m serious! They can see it in my playing anyway, so why do the busy work?”
“I guess that’s your way of doing well,” Yuusei didn’t argue it, didn’t tell Judai he had to do his homework. He didn’t give any of the usual responses that Judai was used to getting. It was kind of weird, how easily he accepted it, Judai kept expecting some kind of scolding to come from it. “Should we take a look?”
“Even after you’ve ruined it? You bet!” Judai got out of the car. Yuusei followed suit.
“Even after I ruined it.” Yuusei agreed, almost under his breath. He had thought to bring a flashlight, something Judai hadn’t. The train yard was eerie enough to be haunted. There were a lot of abandoned trains that had been left on incomplete tracks or tracks so old that grass and greenery had taken over. There was one set of tracks still in good condition but that only seemed to add to the eerieness.
“It’s said that at midnight, the meat man’s train comes down this track!” Judai tapped it with his foot. “And if you get on the train then he’ll murder you with his meat hook and eat your insides. Isn’t that cool?”
“Not really,” Yuusei said with a small groan. “That’s gross.”
“I wouldn’t mind meeting him, what kind of person do you think he is?” Judai walked down the track. Yuusei walked along side him, sweeping the flashlight back and forth to illuminate the track, the scrub nearby and the broken chain link fence that ran along the track.
“Are you asking me what I think a make believe serial cannibal murderer looks like?”
“It sounds really bad when you put it that way, Yuusei.”
“Yeah, I guess it does. I don’t know, I guess he’d look like a regular guy.”
Judai turned on his heel in the tracks and started walking backwards. He didn’t trip, avoided catching the wood slats with his heels, even though he couldn’t see them. Then he threw his arms wide the kind of gesture that seemed grand and foreboding in the night gloom. Yuusei shined the light on him, just to catch Judai’s smile and the slightly unfocused look in his eyes, before Judai swung his arms back down his sides.
“I don’t. He would have to be evil, right? So he’d look evil too — a big black coat, maybe a black hat or mask! The kind of person you would look at and definitely see them as the villain.”
“Yeah?” Yuusei asked. “That would be nice.”
The numbness in his hand only worried Judai when he hit his hand against one of the metal music stands hard enough to slice the skin and cause bleeding and he couldn’t feel it. He had figured that since his fingers hadn’t slowed down and they still moved, that nothing was seriously wrong. But there he was on the second class of the fall semester with blood running down his hand and he had only noticed because of the wetness seeping into his sleeve collar.
“Hahaha, it’s been going on for a few days, I guess?” Judai told the nurse when asked about it. More like, it had been a few months, but nothing had really interrupted his life. It wasn’t like he had lost use of his hand or anything.
“You should probably go to the doctor,” she said. “We can bandage your cut, but I’m afraid your hand might have a more serious problem over all.”
“Huh? I can use it just fine.”
“I insist, let me write you a referral.”
The nurse stuck a butterfly bandage on the gash on Judai’s hand — the four adhesive wings holding the cut skin closed. That he only barely felt, it was like a distant itch happening in someone else’s body that he just happened to know about.
“It might be a tough conversation, it might be good to have your parents on hand or someone else you rely on.” She smiled at him, a little pitying. Judai smiled back at her, though his stomach rolled at the pity. There wasn’t any other feeling in the world he hated being on the receiving end more.
There wasn’t any way that he was going to call his parents — they were footing the bill for school but —
Judai asked Yuusei to go with him instead, sort of. Mostly he grabbed Yuusei’s keys and burst into his room one night, assuming Yuusei would be home and working on homework (which he was) and asked for a ride the next morning. Yuusei agreed, didn’t ask what for and when he dropped Judai off at his appointment, he didn’t ask any questions either.
But, when Judai called him forty minutes later, Yuusei was there in five. “Hey, how’d it go?” He asked, after Judai got back in the car.
“I guess it’s like carpal tunnel or something,” Judai shrugged. “I’ll get a fancy brace and after that there’s always surgery. But it seems at least part of it is here to stay forever.” It wasn’t really, just carpal tunnel. But that was close enough and while Judai had been given a handful of pamphlets on the whole arthritic and carpal tunnel bundle, he had thrown them away.
“That’s a big thing to hear,” Yuusei said, almost cautiously. “How do you feel about it?”
Judai rolled down the window and leaned so he could hang his head out for a moment. The wind rushing by his face blurred his vision and made his eyes water, but it also cleared his head.
“What happens, happens, right?”
“There are some things we can’t control,” Yuusei agreed. “Anywhere you want to stop, on the way home?”
Judai thought about it. In honesty, Yuusei was right. It was a ‘big thing’ — even if he got surgery in his wrist, there was not telling if that would change how he played. He was keeping pace now but eventually his hands would cramp and lose finger strength. A brace could help alleviate the pressure but it was a pretty damning conclusion when it came to his playing. It wasn’t really worth it to play at a lower level.
He thought he would have been more sad, if he was told that eventually he’d have to stop playing. It was the only thing Judai had done consistently — that he could remember, anyway. For a decade or so, music had been the constant in his life.
“I don’t know, maybe, anywhere?” Judai said and grinned.
“Anywhere, sure.” Yuusei said and turned onto the highway.
Anywhere ended up being an indoor miniature golf course on the lake. It was usually a tourist destination but since it was fall, it was closed. Yuusei pulled into the parking lot anyway and got out. He went around to the other side of the car and opened Judai’s door too, gestured with his hand. It was a little like a welcoming wave.
“Here we are, anywhere.”
Yuusei led Judai around to the back, where he hopped the fence. “Need a hand over?”
“No way! I didn’t think you were the trespassing type.” Judai grinned and clamored over the fence as well. “You do this often?”
“Not really.”
There weren’t any lights but a little sunlight filtered in through the windows — that hadn’t been cleaned since last tourist season. It gave everything a yellowish tint and made the already bizarre animatronic animals at each hole look even weirder. The first hole was dominated by a large toon rabbit that was hitting a dragon with a hammer. The second, some kind of weird deer with overly dramatic ear tufts. The third, a pink bird in shoes.
“Spooky,” Judai commented, walked right up on the fake turf to examine the rabbit. “Serious nightmare fuel, even.”
“I thought you might like it,” Yuusei commented. “Maybe too kiddish, compared to a haunted train yard.”
That made Judai laugh. “I don’t really care about the haunted or creepy factor, you know? It’s more, getting to see something I haven’t before — that’s exciting.”
“Just new experiences and adrenaline?” Yuusei asked.
“You make it sound so boring,” Judai continued walking. Each hole seemed to have its own obscene animal, or set of animals. “Don’t you think that every day life can be pretty boring?”
Yuusei followed along and then walked up the small hill on hole five, where there was a superhero posed on a building. A monstrous dragon creature near the bottom of the building probably shifted to block the tunnel, when the power was on.
“Not really. Everyone has their own. . .” He trailed off.
“Own what?”
“Charm?” Yuusei tried. Then revised that, “Rhythm.”
“Rhythm?” Judai moved to the other side of the building and then sat down on top of it. He rested his feet on the monstrous dragon. “Are you about to tell me I just need to read their time signature?”
“No — just.” Yuusei scratched his cheek. “You just need to listen carefully, to really get why they’re wonderful.”
Judai shut his eyes then and listened. He did the same thing he did when learning a piece — not thinking, not focusing, just letting the music flow through him. Only, there wasn’t any music. There was the muted fluttering of yellow paper that had been put in the windows being rustled by the wind. There was Yuusei’s breathing, slow and steady. There was Judai’s own breathing, his own heartbeat, the feel of the plastic building beneath him and smell of plastic turf, miniature golf club leather wrapped handles and mothballs.
“Judai?” Yuusei asked.
“Keep talking,” Judai said.
“About what?”
“Anything.”
Judai kept his eyes shut. Yuusei cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. Judai could picture what kind of shoes Yuusei was wearing, just by the sound alone — heavy work boots, totally at odds with his slacks and button down.
“I’m glad we started talking more.” Yuusei started and then stopped and paused. The silence stretched for three long breaths. “I guess — I’ve been lonely.”
Judai tilted his head to the side, but he kept listening silently.
“Ah — I’m also doing a six year program because I barely passed last year.” Yuusei sounded rueful. “School’s not really my thing, I envy you sometimes. I’ve heard you play — it’s really, really good. I’d be honored if you ever played something I wrote. But, you play a little selfishly too, I think. The orchestra always has to race to catch up with you. You can hear it, if you listen to it, but that — seems like you. Sorry. I don’t really know what to say, this all sounds kind of stupid, huh?” He trailed off.
There was a particular way that Yuusei talked. All the words were dropped out of his mouth at once, it made it sound like he was a slow speaker — because everything sounded deliberate, but he was a deceptively fast talker. His rhythm of speaking was a little awkward, not quite confident and had the same feeling that an open posture looked.
“I’ve got it.” Judai said and opened his eyes. “I’ve got you.”
Yuusei looked surprised but then he ducked his head. “Well, that makes one of us, I haven’t got you at all.”
“Just the way I like it!” Judai hopped off the building. “Come on, we have like thirteen more holes to go, right?”
“Yeah, we do.”
Judai dropped out of the conservatory. He didn’t tell any of his friends, or his parents, or Yuusei. There was no avoiding it though when he was home at the apartment and his phone rang. He let it go to voicemail. It rang again. The cycle continued until Yuusei poked his head out of his bedroom.
“Is someone calling?” He asked.
“Just my parents,” Judai said.
Yuusei’s expression softened. “You should pick up.”
“I dropped out,” Judai shrugged, “They’re calling about that. There’s not a lot to say.”
“You don’t get along with your parents?” Yuusei rushed to add, “Sorry. None of my business.”
“Don’t worry, don’t worry! I know exactly what I’m doing, this is how it always is.” Judai grinned and gave him a thumbs up. “I won’t slack on rent, so that won’t be an issue. Besides, this is the next new and exciting chapter in my life.”
“If you ever want to talk,” Yuusei left the statement hang, but when he returned to his room he also left his door open. He didn’t question Judai’s dropping out or anything.
Judai wouldn’t take him up on the offer, that day. But he does, when two days later Yuusei gets a call from Judai’s parents. Judai wasn’t privy to the conversation but he was to Yuusei’s facial expressions. They went from being somewhat bemused and vaguely endeared to neutral to stormy.
“Yes, I’m ‘the roommate’.”
“Sorry, I don’t know.”
“— that’s too bad. . .?”
“No.”
“No.”
“No.”
“. . .”
“. . . no.”
“Goodbye.” There was a sense of finality in that goodbye though. Definitely a ‘may we never meet’ sound as opposed to a ‘see you tomorrow’ sound. Judai didn’t bring it up, and neither did Yuusei. Judai, because he didn’t know what to say and he was sure Yuusei didn’t out of politeness, or respect for his personal space. The conversation became a sort of elephant in the room though and over pizza — one with no sauce or cheese, just vegetables and one with extra cheese and extra pepperoni — Judai blurted out.
“We don’t talk.”
“Judai?”
“My parents and I, we don’t talk.” He waved a hand. “They talk, but they never listen. Or sometimes they don’t talk.” It was a bad summary but Judai couldn’t really figure out how to phrase it. There wasn’t an easy way to explain that even though his parents had been around when he was growing up it was like they were never there. He could see Yuusei’s thought process on his face though. Concern, bafflement and then a regretful sort of smile.
“I was envious, of you for a while.” Yuusei confessed. “I never knew my parents.”
“Well, that makes two of us.” Judai laughed, a little.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry but — “
“I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s not fun or interesting for me, so it’s not really worth it.” Judai stuffed half of a piece of pizza into his mouth and spoke with his mouth full. “Get it?”
“Not really. Maybe I should take a page out of your book,” Yuusei settled his elbows on the table and propped his chin up on his hand. “Talk, about anything, and I’ll listen.”
“I didn’t think you were a musician, composer, right?”
“Hey, I played piano, for a while.” Yuusei shut his eyes and turned his face to the side a little. “Say whatever you want.”
So Judai talked. He started with descriptions of all of his friends — from Manjoume’s weak points to what made him fun, the fact that Sho was an observer, a thinker, the kind of person who wrote down their lives as music pieces. Judai talked about Misawa’s terrible taste in atonal music but also his brilliant mind and photographic memory. He talked about Asuka, and wondered where she was now, he could look her up or track her down on social media but he just hadn’t gotten around to it. His classes were — had been — boring, his teachers mostly silly or conniving, school had too many papers when they were there to make music, not write essays. It was, definitely, the kind of insight that his friends would have been surprised to hear.
“I’m not as good at this as you are.” Yuusei said, when Judai’s chatter trailed off. “But I think I understand a little more. Even if I get the feeling you’re holding back on me.”
“Would I really do that?” Judai asked.
Yuusei just smiled at him.
Yuusei asked for Judai’s help with his end of year project — but for the life of him, Judai couldn’t quite figure out what Yuusei was even doing. They went through all of Judai’s CDs, half concert material and half pop music with one or two eclectic mixes thrown in. They sorted them by easy to listen to, difficult to listen to and things that were interesting but maybe not favorites.
The most infuriating part, really, was that Yuusei wouldn’t give any input at all and made Judai do all the sorting. He said it was because that’s what was needed, but Judai did wonder, if Yuusei didn’t have any real preferences at all.
“What kind of music do you listen to?” Judai asked.
“Whatever my friends give me,” Yuusei shrugged. “I have mixed tastes.”
“Isn’t that just a roundabout way to say you have no taste?”
“Maybe it is,” Yuusei agreed.
Juda laughed and threw one of the CD cases at Yuusei. It bounced off his chest and to the carpet. “Come on, what’s something you like?”
“I like a lot of things.”
“Something specific.” Judai flicked another CD case at him. “Or maybe, something you don’t like?”
“You’ll scratch your CDs,” Yuusei pointed out and caught the third CD case that Judai threw at him.
Judai then scooped up the whole pile of CD cases and walked over to Yuusei. They met each others’ gazes, the sort of long measuring look where Yuusei’s expression clearly read You aren’t going to and Judai’s: Definitely going to.
He dropped the entire armful of cases on Yuusei with a clatter. Some of them popped open and sent CDs spilling everywhere and others just bounced and clattered. Yuusei didn’t move, just let them fall around him and then started gathering them up again, to resort them.
“I like it best when people treat things with respect.”
“Things? Like, everything?”
“Everything, because everything is worth something.” Yuusei said firmly. Judai had to laugh again but he sank down to sit next to Yuusei.
“I can’t say that isn’t a nice sentiment.” Was his response, not quite agreeing at all.
“I’m going to compose music you would like to play,” Yuusei said. The change in conversation made Judai look over at him. Yuusei was looking down at the CDs, arranging them in an order that didn’t seem to make sense. “Music just for you.”
“Is that your end of year project? Pretty lame.” Judai reached over and fixed Yuusei’s arrangement. “This is the order I’d listen to these in.”
“It’s easier to compose for someone, than myself.” Yuusei wrote down the names of the CDs. “Will you play it, when I’m done?”
“Only if it’s good.” Judai winked. “So you better impress me.”
Judai didn’t see Yuusei for the next two weeks, it was like they were back to square one where Judai didn’t know anything about his roommate. Yuusei was always working, either in his room or on campus and when Judai did see him, he had earphones in and was plunking away on his laptop obsessively.
In his free time, Judai did everything but play. He tried cooking and then he tried fishing — the lake was close enough he could do an afternoon trip. He picked up a part time at the coffee shop near campus. Ultimately, all his small distractions were just that, though, distractions.
Two days before the deadline for Yuusei’s project, Judai burst into his bedroom out of boredom. “Yuusei.”
“Hm?” Yuusei didn’t take his headphones off.
“Come on.”
“Judai, not now.” Yuusei did shut his laptop though.
“I’m bored and you’re probably ready to pull your hair out.”
“Not really, but go ahead,” Yuusei looked amused. Or, vaguely amused. Despite being able to tell Yuusei’s state of being through his tone of voice, Judai still hadn’t quite gotten as good at reading Yuusei’s facial expressions.
“Take a break.”
“I’m almost done, I’ve been trying hard to impress you.” Yuusei deadpanned.
“Well, you either will have or will not have by now, surely! Another few hours won’t make or break it.”
Yuusei did relent, because Judai had a point. Though, in the end, Yuusei ended up driving Judai to the grocery store and then the Home Depot and then back to the apartment and helped him build a bookshelf. It was not, really, that refreshing or interesting to either of them. But if asked, Yuusei would admit that when he got back to composing, after they returned home, it was exactly the break he needed.
Yuusei’s final project ended up netting him a B+, after all that work. Not that he told Judai, instead he simply provided the sheet music to him the weekend after the semester had ended. Titled “the Fifth Try” — because, it was the fifth iteration of the piece — and for solo violin and solo violin.
“How can it be for solo violin twice?” Judai asked.
“It’s like table music.” Yuusei, in a rare gesture of uncertainty, chewed his lower lip. “So if you play it on a loop, then it accompanies itself.”
“Well, that’s genius.” Judai laughed. “Are you saying I can’t accompany someone else?”
“I would never.” Yuusei replied, cheerful but subdued. “I know you haven’t played in a while — but I’d be more than honored.”
Judai looked the piece over. It, honestly, wasn’t that complicated or even that enticing. However, he hadn’t ever had a piece of music composed just for him and beyond that he was certain that Yuusei had included some kind of Easter Egg. Something hidden in the music that could only be unlocked if played.
Not that Judai knew much about Yuusei’s composing skills, but almost everything he said or did had a double meaning to it, a softer more hidden meaning underneath the words.
He didn’t want to play again, but he also wanted to know. And, surely, the piece would sound different if played by someone else.
“You don’t have to.” Yuusei added.
Judai smiled, broad and bright and a little uneven. “I’ll play it just once.” He said.
The two pieces referenced: Passacaglia & Mendelssohn.