The Accompanist

Chapter 4: Liebesleid

Boutarou decided. Mitsuo was strange. Somehow, despite making sure his eyes were clear of redness before returning to his room, convincing himself that Shiki would be back and that he'd make quick friends with Sayuri, Mitsuo still asked if he was ok. It was easy to respond like nothing had happened, but it wasn't easy to ignore the sarcastic "I see," that came from Mitsuo's lips with a smile.

It was almost like he could read his mind.

That night was the first night he spent away from home since he was twelve and slept over at Sayaka's. It was the day before an early morning competition, and he always woke up late, so she demanded he sleep at her house instead.

He remembered the pressure of acting correctly in front of her mom. Wondering if his dad was going to come home while he was gone. Thinking that maybe something bad would happen and he'd finally have the chance to show off his martial arts skills.

He remembered falling asleep on her floor, wondering how uneventful the whole thing could possibly be. Inwardly complaining about how this situation was a golden opportunity in anime and manga for any guy. Until she whimpered his name in her sleep.

It made him blush at the time, but now he knew. It was probably just her yelling at him because he played something wrong in her dream.

Loneliness plagued his chest. He wondered if his mom and little sister were still alright. If Sayaka was getting along well with her new accompanist. If she was crying. If she was actually having fun with him.

That, he decided, was impossible.

When he finally tucked himself into a ball and entered the land of dreams, all he had were nightmares. Sayaka's bass was destroyed, and she was sobbing by herself in the corner of a practice room. He tried to go to her, but Sayuri clung to his arm. She said that if he wasn't her accompanist anymore, he should leave her be.

He almost wanted to side with Sayuri and let Sayaka face the consequences of her actions on her own. But as he stared at the ceiling of his new dorm room, his imaginary self gently pushed Sayrui away. He pictured Sayaka crying into the side of his leg.

The reason she was so attached to that bass in particular was because Mr. Umari bought it for her in hopes that she'd still be playing bass when she grew tall enough to use it. Now it was her most treasured possession.

If it got broken... She'd probably revert to an empty shell of herself. And even though she wasn't his responsibility, Boutarou knew he was the only one that could put broken Sayaka back together again.

It happened a few times, all of them more than three years ago. But in those times, he was usually by her side. She'd wordlessly wrap herself around his arm, and he'd walk her home, letting her sit in the dark and cry while he scrolled through his phone. And after it was over, she'd pretend not to remember it.

Her mom either pushed her too much, or not enough. He'd been there when she left food outside her door, and when she tried to spoon feed it to her. But that wasn't what Sayaka needed. Somehow, he just knew.

In those times her mom force-fed her, her throat was too tight to swallow. When she started feeling better and her stomach growled its protest, she was too stubborn to take a single bite.

And so, he sat with her until he knew she was starting to get hungry. He'd make some comment about what a waste it would be to throw away the food her mother had slaved over despite working long hours in the hospital. How Mrs. Umari would cry of happiness if even just half the food was gone. And he casually added that he'd eat anything she couldn't finish.

If he volunteered to eat the whole thing for her, she'd let him. If he tried to feed her, she'd make him leave his room, try to eat it on her own, and then throw it all up. He knew his presence was needed for her to stomach food, but she'd rather starve than admit it.