Disclaimer: I do not own La Corda D'Oro. Yuki Kure does. I own the original storyline and anything non-canonical.
Author's Notes: Rated T. Takes place a year after the concours, so the Red Ties are now third years.
Behind Closed Doors
"Did you hear, man? Hino and that Amou chick are totally doing it."
The first time he heard the phrase, spoken in hushed tones, he snapped his pencil in two and earned himself a glare from one of the librarians for making too much noise.
Calm down, man, Tsuchiura told himself, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. It's just a stupid rumor. Ignore the idiots.
He managed to block out the rest of their mumbled talk by engrossing himself in his homework, going so far as to actually forget the conversation because he really didn't want to remember it.
The second time he heard it, though, it was less easy to ignore.
"I saw them go into one of the art rooms together," one girl giggled. "And Amou-sempai had all these curtains up around the windows and saying things about taking off her clothes. Hino-sempai's clothes, I mean."
No. Goddamn. Way.
Hino was not a lesbian.
Or at least, he hoped to God she wasn't. That would really piss him off – though it would explain why she never seemed to catch his not-so-subtle hints. But the rest of the day, and for another week after, he kept hearing variations on a theme.
Hino and Amou, Amou and Hino. A couple, sweethearts, lovers.
Tsuchiura was about ready to kill someone.
He quickly came to the conclusion that he needed to know the truth. He momentarily considered asking some of his friends if they knew anything – but then easily imagined Fuyuumi's blushing evasiveness or Sasaki's perverted expression.
He'd have to take care of this himself.
Eavesdropping had worked (sort of…) in the past, so no reason why it wouldn't serve him as well now. Besides, it wasn't like he was being overprotective or weird or anything. He was just making sure that the rumor wasn't some unkind revenge against one of his closest friends. His intentions were nothing short of honorable.
That afternoon, nearer to night than day, he listened at the door of the fourth floor art room. The wood barely muffled the giggles and words coming from within, and he tried to play off most of the talking as girls being, well, girls.
Until he heard the sound of cotton being tossed around and mechanical items scuffling along the carpet.
"N-nami-san, stop teasing me," Hino said breathlessly. "You don't… I mean, I feel really naked."
"But you're so cute like that!" Amou laughed. "Come on, get into position. Chest up, shoulders back, legs apart. Just hold it like you love it. Yes, that's perfect! Oh god, yes, right there! Don't move!"
And there was no way in hell that this conversation could be anything close to innocent, and Tsuchiura banged twice on the door before his rational mind could offer prudence as a suggested action.
Amou opened it seconds later, as if she'd been expecting a guest. "Hi, Tsuchiura-kun. What's going on?"
"Is Hino here?" he asked without prelude.
"Sure, come on in!" she chirped, and he walked around the corner to see that Amou had set up her own photography stage… and her own model.
Hino was sitting on a velvet-covered platform with a white tarp hanging behind her. Her shirt was non-existent; a little red bikini that was outlined by a black and silver top, its sleeves flaring around her elbows. Her skirt was huge and billowy, black cotton highlighted with red flowers, and it sprawled around the stage like a tousled bed sheet. Between her legs (an area modestly covered by the skirt) sat the violin, and her arms were protectively wrapped around it. She wore silver chains on her wrists, ankles, neck; the violin's bow lightly dangled from bejeweled fingers. A string of coins hung around her head, and a little diamond was suspended between her eyes.
She looked like an innocent gypsy musician, beautiful golden-brown eyes looking at him with affectionate surprise.
She looked like sin, and Tsuchiura felt himself go hot from top to bottom.
"Hi, Tsuchiura-kun," Hino said bashfully, almost hiding behind the violin's neck. "I-is there something I can do for you?"
Yes, but Amou might tear off my three best friends if I say it aloud. "I've got a piano-violin duet I'd like to play with you, but I haven't seen you around the practice rooms for over a week."
"I'm practicing during lunch so that I can help Nami-san after classes," she said, glancing at Amou.
"Kaho-chan's an angel," Amou cheerfully explained. "She's helping me with a history course; we're learning about Middle Eastern culture now, and I'm doing a photographic essay on Turkish music and fashion," she said, tapping a nearby camera stationed on a tripod. "It's taking over an hour a day to do a good survey, but it's worth it 'cause I'm so going to ace this course!"
Tsuchiura smiled at Hino; she was generous enough to give her time without hesitation. "Well, whenever you're free…."
"I'd like that," she smiled back, and all the heat centered itself in his chest.
"If you don't mind, though, please don't tell anyone about this project," Amou said, turning serious. "This is just for the teachers to know about, no one else."
"Of course. Sorry to intrude," he said, and escorted himself out with the self-assurance that Hino wasn't a lesbian and that he still had a chance. And even if Amou's request wasn't still ringing in his ears, he currently felt no reason to enlighten the rest of the male population as to what she and Amou were really doing.
Let them think what they would; it made everything easier for him.
A few days later, he opened his locker and found an envelope on top of his books. Inside was a picture of Hino, wearing that same costume and facing the camera. This time she was leaning backwards on her hands, with the pose showing off her bare stomach and lifting her bikini-clad chest into the air. The violin – and he'd never been jealous of an inanimate object before now – was still nestled between her legs.
And on the back of the photo was a little note.
Tsuchiura-kun,
Thanks for keeping the secret. If you still want to play together, give me a call this weekend.
- Kahoko
He let out a whoop of victory that scared most of the students in the vicinity.
-------------
"You still shouldn't have started it."
"Oh please! It was such crap anyway. The only ones who really believed it were disgruntled fan-girls of Tsukimori, and guys that are hot on the idea of two girls making out. The fact that Tsuchiura didn't buy it is a great sign – he doesn't want you swinging anywhere but to him."
"But it doesn't-"
"Oh hey, here he comes! Shush!"
Hidden behind a row of lockers, they watched Tsuchiura open his locker, find the picture, and then punch the air in triumph.
Nami smirked. "Told you he'd like it. Aren't you glad I made you save the outfit?"
Kahoko blushed bright red.
Author's Notes (10/15/07): I use Amou a lot in my short stories. She makes for such a good catalyst between Kahoko and the Stella Quintet. I admit that Tsuchiura x Hino is my OTP, but the other pairings amuse me in equal measure so you might see various stories popping up soon.