Sayonara Piano Sonata Vol 3 Chapter 2

After a brief intermission, the performance resumed with the third piece of the night—. is the longest symphony Tchaikovsky composed; and while the length of the piece might differ depending on the conductor, it typically lasts about an hour. The first movement starts off really slowly and is incredibly gloomy; and coupled with Ebichiri's calm and st.u.r.dy style of conducting, the piece was really tiring to listen to. Two seats away from me, Chiaki had already fallen asleep on Kagurazaka-senpai's shoulder.

In the beginning, I thought to myself, "Why are they playing the piece so slowly? The audience might criticize them harshly for that, no?" But in the third movement, the atmosphere somehow became even more suffocating than before, and I was forcefully pulled into the meditative sounds. But when the performance entered the last movement, which had a rigorous military feel to it, I actually sat up and straightened out my sitting posture.

Ebichiri waved his arms and lifted the orchestra to an incredibly high height; then, with a swing of the baton, he ended the most rousing section of the piece at the climax.

After a moment of blankness, which made me feel as though I were looking down from atop a dangerous cliff—

A ray of light descended from the sky—it was an elegant chorale played by the organ. I felt a jolt of electricity run up my spine, and gooseb.u.mps appeared all over my body.

I used to think was a boring piece of music, but in that moment, everything changed. I had never heard an interpretation like that before—with the conductor bringing the whole piece to its climax in such a saddening and theatrical fashion.

The piece ended as if it were sucked into the air. But for quite a long while, there was no clapping—or even coughing—to be heard. Only after Ebichiri had let go of his baton, did the audience finally jolt back to its senses. It started with spa.r.s.e applause scattered here and there; then, the whole music hall became engulfed in a whirlpool of applause, which only grew larger and larger. Before I had even realized, I was already up on my feet and clapping.

I shot a glance beside me. Mafuyu was sitting in her chair, clapping with an unhappy expression on her face.

"That was really impressive."

I could faintly hear Kagurazaka-senpai's voice.

"I've never heard go along so well with an organ. The tempo felt like it was barely containing something within it...... So it was all for that final moment?"

The audience continued applauding, even after Ebichiri had stepped down from the stage. The orchestra continued tuning as well. A special feature of Ebichiri's concerts were his encores, which always turned out to be interesting and unique performances. I wanted to sort out my thoughts, so I took out my notebook and pen.

After returning back on stage, Ebichiri spread his arms out, signaling the audience to quiet down. The noise of the audience gradually faded away.

"I am thankful to have the honor of meeting everyone here tonight."

Ebichiri said that with a stern face. He always uttered that line prior to his encore. "Narcissist," said Mafuyu softly beside me. I did agree with her slightly.

"We have invited a special guest here today, a soloist. He should not be appearing here tonight, so those of you in the music industry, please try to publicize this as little as possible, or else I will be in for some trouble with the record company."

A few guffaws came from beneath the stage. A soloist who only appears during the encore? I had never heard of something like that before.

"I believe everyone should know him well, but I think it is only proper that I introduce him. Please welcome Julien Flaubert."

Ebichiri's announcement caused a huge commotion in the audience. I remembered hearing that name somewhere before, so I frantically searched through my memories. I ended up not hearing what Mafuyu was saying beside me.

Julien. Julien Flaubert......

The commotion in the hall turned into a warm round of applause again. I quickly lifted my head in shock.

At the side of the stage appeared a small silhouette of someone holding a violin beneath his arm. He walked past the members of the orchestra and made his way to the conductor's stand at the middle of the stage.

At first, I thought the person was a girl, as I could only see the upper body—the person had huge eyes, fiery red lips, and shiny golden hair that glittered under the spotlights.

However, the pet.i.te violinist standing next to Ebichiri was wearing a tuxedo. "Yuri?" mumbled Mafuyu. I finally remembered who he was.

Julien Flaubert.

The violinist was more widely known by his nickname "Yuri" than by his actual name. It was his nickname back when he was pursuing his studies at the Moscow Conservatory—a fact that was well known, even in j.a.pan. He was always praised for possessing "the looks of an angel," or "sublime techniques, as if he were Yehudi Menuhin reborn," etc. He was a celebrity violinist with crazed fans all over the globe. It was said that magazine sales would increase many fold whenever his pictures were published. His frequent appearance on the covers of cla.s.sical music magazines was how I got to know of him. He always wore a serious and stern expression in the magazine pictures, but he actually exuded an air of innocence similar to that of a typical middle school girl (even though he was a guy). He was roughly Mafuyu's height as well. I think he's one year younger than me?

Julien stood at the conductor's stand and bowed elegantly. His movement silenced everyone in the hall.

No one made a sound. Julien lifted his bow, but I saw almost no movement from Ebichiri as he conducted. The clarinets and oboes raised a serious inquiry, and Julien's violin replied with a solo. Then, the background accompaniment of the orchestra began to slowly spread its wings.

This song is—

Alban Berg's Violin Concerto.

The concerto dedicated was composed in remembrance of a young girl that had pa.s.sed away; it was Berg's final piece before he died due to blood poisoning. The violin solo and the orchestra wove together to create a sorrowful fricative; the melody sounded like it was sobbing softly.

I didn't even notice my notebook had slipped out of my hands.

It really felt like there were wails coming from someone high above.

The intense allegro of the second movement told the story of the girl and her pains struggling against her sickness. An intense chromatic phrase, which felt like it was shaved from Julien's slender body, was finally surrounded by the death that purified everything. The phrase then merged itself with the calm adagio.

The solo violin began playing its highest note, while, at the same time, absorbing all the sounds of the orchestra. When the piece was finally over, and the music had faded away silently, there was barely a hint of liveliness left in the music hall. The mood was completely different compared to that after .

Even so, the young boy in the middle of the stage placed his bow and violin down. After he showed the audience a gentle smile akin to that of an angel, the atmosphere in the hall melted immediately.

The applause of the audience was like an endless avalanche.

I was clapping my hands together in a daze. I then realized he wasn't offering his smile to everyone in the audience, but only to a specific person.

Is it me? No wait—

I realized the shocking truth and looked at the seat beside me—Mafuyu sank herself deep into her seat with an absent-minded expression on her face.

Tetsurou had actually put a great deal of effort into preparing a bouquet for me to offer to Ebichiri. It's sad to say though—not only did he choose narcissuses, which were out of season, he also told me, "Listen to this properly Nao. Narcissus means 'conceited' in the language of flowers! Be sure to tell him that when you offer him the bouquet!" What an idiot.

After the concert was over, I told the girls to wait for me in the lobby. Just as I was about to head to the lounge backstage, Mafuyu grabbed the hem of my suit and gave it a tug.

"Yes?"

"...... I'm coming along."

Why? I mean, Ebichiri will be in the lounge too, yeah? It's not possible for Mafuyu to want to go there just to see him, right? I then thought of Julien. (It looked like) Flaubert was staring at Mafuyu back then......

There should be a reason for that, right? Perhaps they knew each other?

The corridor leading to the lounge was filled with members of the orchestra, as well as the large instruments. Since the performing band was the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the conversations I heard all around me were all spoken in English. I was at a loss at what to do.

Just then, one of the members of the orchestra spotted Mafuyu hiding behind my back, and walked towards us after blurting out what sounded like "Oh!" We quickly became surrounded by the orchestra. That was proof Mafuyu was famous in the professional world as well.

"Urm, well......"

Mafuyu pushed me aside when I tried to talk to them in j.a.panese. She began to converse with the middle-aged French horn player in incredibly authentic-sounding American English. She then turned around to look at me, pointed at the end of the corridor with an unhappy expression on her face, and said,

"He said Papa finds the interviewers irritating, so he is hiding in that room."

I see...... As expected of someone who came back from America not too long ago, her English was really impressive. For some reason, I found myself more and more useless.

The orchestra member brought us to a smaller lounge deep inside the corridor. Just as I was about to grab the doork.n.o.b to open the door, the door suddenly opened from inside. "Mafuyu!" A small person, with a voice filled with excitement, squeezed through the opening and hugged me all of a sudden.

"...... Whoaaaa!?"

"Mafuyu, I miss you so much!"

My nose came into contact with soft golden hair. Right after I realized the person was Julien Flaubert, he hugged me tightly with his slender arms and buried his face deep in my chest. There was a faint scent of roses coming from his hair—no wait! I became fl.u.s.tered all of a sudden and quickly pushed his body away.

"W-What are you doing?"

"Ah, sorry. I was mistaken."

Julien looked at my face and said that in a nonchalant manner, then tiptoed slightly to kiss me lightly on the cheek. I remained rooted to the ground as he turned his attention to Mafuyu.

"I miss you so much, ma cherie!"

What surprised me even more, was that Mafuyu didn't yell at him or hit him, despite him hugging her tightly. She only put on a slightly unhappy expression as she silently let him kiss her cheeks lightly. The French are really impressive—with only half of my brain functioning properly, that was all I could think.
 

Really...... so that's how it is when you fall in love with somebody?