Dissonant Harmony [G. Akechi x Reader]

ichi

The eighty-eight keys of black and white lay before me just waiting to be touched. At the age of three, I was practically begging my parents for lessons and a keyboard. I was given a couple lessons before anything was decided upon, but the decision was already made in my mind.

When my teacher saw the potential I had from the first couple lessons, we immediately moved up to an upright, sitting it in the corner of our living room. At first, sitting down to practice was a chore; another thing I had to check off for the day. This changed quickly, however, when I heard the true beauty behind a piece and what you could really do.

My many idols definitely helped kickstart this. Everything they did had a specific quality, a specific touch.

The very next lesson I told my teacher I wanted to sound just as good.

At the age of six, I was playing some of my favorite composers: Liszt, Chopin, Tchaikovsky, Handel, and Mozart. My hands may have been too small to reach some things, but that didn't stop me.

Ten years later, I still love the piano as much as I did then. The keys hold many possibilities and so much can be pulled from deep within. 

I have also done many competitions and traveled some in Europe to spread my love of this art with others. Well, also to win scholarship and lessen the burden on my parents, but my focus was mostly sharing.

"No, no," my teacher interrupted, "You need to bring out the left hand more and accomplish a brighter tone. This piece isn't a funeral."

I look back up at the black inked pages filled with way too many notes. Today's lesson was already rough, I didn't need it soiling my favorite piece as well. 

I was trying to learn Rachmaninoff's transcription of Liebesleid, otherwise known as Love's Sorrow. The notes seemed to be there, but for some reason, I couldn't find the right tone. My teacher clearly wanted it to be a fond look back at a love, but doesn't sorrow mean pain?

I start again, trying a livelier sound, pulling the melody out more in the left hand.

"Yes, yes. That will do nicely."

Getting to the new melodic idea, I shift the tone down a bit, less livelier, as if a memory turned sour. This seemed to catch my teacher's breath, but I continued on. The ending was bittersweet and I knew I had done it. Now all that was left was continuing to pull that out.

After a few seconds of silence, the last note still ringing in the air, my teacher spoke up. "Beautiful. Keep up the good work, try focusing in on those nit-picky details I mentioned last lesson and that will work well for your next audition."

I nodded my head, gathering up my books before turning to smile in my teacher's direction. "See you next week."

Moving out into the hallway of Shujin Academy, I notice that the practice building is almost completely empty. I decided to head through the main building since it got me closer to the station.

The main building was almost empty too. I did, however, pass a group of teens, who most of which were in my class. They had begun hanging out together when the "troubled transfer student" started here. The group included Sakamoto Ryuji, Takamaki Ann, and Kurusu Akira. Each have faced some sort of trouble with our previous gym teacher, Kamoshida, and I'm pretty sure that's what brought them together.

Kamoshida apparently had what everyone is calling a change of heart. He confessed to all of his wrongdoings and was sent to jail. I never had much interaction with him besides the required time, so I only heard rumors about what was going on.