Love, Music, And Cancer | OHSHC

LMAC | Chapter One

---Chapter One; Wrong Room---

私はドアを開けていなかったなあ

(I wish I hadn't opened that door)

No matter how many time I roam around this school, I never get use to it. Sometimes I wondered if a little five year old girl created the school building, with it's pink pastel colors and the way it was designed like a castle It did make you question it from time to time. Ouran Academy was probably built by one if I am being honest. A prissy, rich, little six year old who was obsessed with pink.

Slowly walking down the corridor filled with hanging chandeliers and over the top paintings I never realized how, what's the words, lacking of true knowledge this school possessed. It's something that just now entered my mind while I only walk pass the chatter among us rich students. Weather your born into it or taken into it everyone here is rich. Except for that person who won the scholarship here, that use to be the talk of the town.

I stepped my way up the grand, red-carpeted staircase returning a faint smile a kind girl sent me as she walked by. I was beginning to get frustrated now, who knows how long I've been searching for the music room and that's coming from a second-year student.

I stared at the first pair of double doors that caught my eye though a sign hung up above it with a golden frame around it. Music Room 3. I cocked my head to the side, trying to remember if it was this music room or Music Room 1. See, there's too many rooms in this school. It confuses me greatly.

I started mentally debating on weather this was the room or not. My left dark brown eye twitched in aggravation as my mind became muddled with too many thoughts. Curse my brain for not remembering the room, I don't have time for this I really need to practice. I sighed after coming up with a conclusion; a conclusion to give it a shot and hope for the best at the moment. I grabbed the glistening gold knob and pushed the doors open.

I could barley even put my foot on the floor inside of the room since I was blinded by a light that didn't dare allow me to open my eyes fully. "Dear god. . . "I muttered under my breath, immediately regretting opening this prestigious door. Rose petals were blown in my face as the strong smell of cologne slapped me as well.

"Welcome!" a chorus of male voices called out.

"What the. . . "I stopped myself from cursing knowing that it was unladylike, that's what my mom always tells me.

Once the brightness of the room died down I realized that it had to be effects for whatever this place was suppose to be. I fluttered my eyes a bit, and I could now make out on where I was and what it was. Six guys, teens to be exact who all stood before me except for one who sat in the center posed in a chair.

Two redheads who were obviously identical twins stood in a confident posture while they both wore grins that gave off a mischievous vibe for themselves. A small boy with blonde hair had his hands laced together with wide blue eyes beside a man with black hair who was positioned so that I could only see his back. Another boy who's arms were folded stood behind the elegant blondie and 'princely' man, who charmingly smiled at me. Last but not least a boy with a pete figure and girly like face warmly grinned as well, his brown hair sweeping neatly above his big eyes.

"Wait. . . this isn't-"

"Welcome to the host club!" they all said together once more.

I strained a tight fake smile at them all, grabbing the double doors and slamming them shut before I could witness anymore of the Host Club. "That's definitely not the room." I reassured and sighed. I turned on my heel and returned down the clean-tiled floor until I landed in front of the next double doors where the sign Music Room 1 hung. "Music Room 1. I've got to remember that from now on." I reminded myself before opening the doors.

A small smile formed on my face when I was greeted with the enormous music room, the grand black-sheeted piano, cellos propped up together, and the warm smell that reminded me of chocolate letting me know that I was in the right music room. I went to the rich shelves where the schools personal violins were laid in their cold dark cases.

I grasped onto the heavy object that contained the majestic instrument, being too lazy to bring my own from home today. I was lucky that I was the only one here today. I enjoyed the days when it's just me, my violin, and our music we create together. They made me feel special. Like out there in the world, one day I'll stand on a stage with millions of people watching me like a shooting star in the darkest night of them all. I opened the case, quickly running my fingers along the instrument.

Inhaling deeply though my nose, and exhaling through my parted lips I positioned the violin on my shoulder and placed it in the crook of my neck. I grabbed the bow and placed it gently above the thin and delicate strings. I was testing how to play without looking at my music today, which explains why I didn't bring my sheet music. I inhaled and exhaled again and relaxed my shoulders a bit before finally playing.

The fingers of my left hand danced across the strings as I drew my bow back and forth softy creating a melody that brought music to my ears. The song was slow, gentle, beautiful, and enchanting. I bit my lip while I focused on being precise about this piece. This piece was important to me. Special to me.

It was my grandmothers favorite piece, I was close to her back then. We would listen to this song on repeat all the time without any doubts. My parents would get tired of the classical music but to us both it made us want to dance like ballerinas everytime. She was a kind soul, fluffy gray hair that cascaded to her shoulders and kind black eyes that seemed to pierce through you.

She always gave out donations to places in need and helped out around town, remembering how everyone in the neighborhood loved my kind old relative. I lightly stroked the strings as the sound continued to maneuver it's way in the too big room, echoing everywhere. Everything was perfect, grandma was perfect, we were all so happy with her.

Until she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

I grunted, accidently squeaking the last note. I stopped playing knowing that I could no longer go on with the song if my mind was set on her gracious memories. I exhaled again and let my hand and bow fall down to my hip. "Dang it. . . " I whispered, staring off into space.

"That was some playing there Ms. Miyagawa."