Silent Encore

by Autumn Win-Dow

(AoGA House Cup. Words: 1161)

Koko was never the sort of person who attended concerts – most especially orchestral ones.

He didn't see the enjoyment in sitting for three hours as a person would perform their talent. The part of concerts which he was most aware about was the duration, as he continued to hope that it would end soon, for the sake of his sanity.

It was why there was only one reason why he sat at the very back of a concert hall, awaiting the introduction of the emcee.

To Koko, orchestral performances were a bore. He much preferred the catchy, loud tunes of metal punk and rock over the dramatic and harmonic blends which a group of fifty or more musicians would collaborate in creating. He loved to watch indie rock performers roam the stage and whip their heads back and forth, but he didn't find the finger movements of musicians interesting to watch at all. He knew that if his friends had heard about him willingly buying a single ticket to a concert, they would simply stare at him in disbelief and laugh at his April Fool's joke.

Even when it was early October.

However, he was never really taught the technics of musical instruments, so he himself wasn't sure about how to appreciate when someone played a piece in front of him.

"I don't know."

It was the only answer he was able to give to those who didn't know him very well, because he didn't know exactly how to judge music.

Koko looked around the wide concert hall. There were families, elites, children, and critics everywhere around him. Some looked excited, some felt comfortable, the children looked curious, and others – just like him, were anxious in waiting for both the start and the end.

He was glad that even after graduating from Alice Academy, he was still in possession of his Alice – which he now cherished more than anything.

Looking down at the concert program in his hands, he saw that the performance he was waiting for was over an hour after the start of the concert. The mind-reader decided that it would be a good time to sleep – because of his lack of enthusiasm for music, he knew that he was capable of sleeping during even the loudest bash of the timpani. Koko took out his phone and set it to vibrate two minutes before the time which the performance he was waiting for would start, before shoving it back in his pocket and leaning his head on the chair.

Koko eventually woke up to the feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket. As he dazedly opened his eyes, he saw that the movements of the conductor were becoming more expressive, and he guessed that the piece was coming to a dramatic end. The mind-reader rubbed his eyes as he sat up straight in his chair, and clapped with the rest of the audience even though he hadn't paid attention to a single note.

His thumbs started to twitch as the lights dimmed. The next act – which was the reason why Koko was sitting in the theatre in the first place – was a solo violin act, about to be performed on the main stage.

The spot faded in, followed by a round of applause by the people around him.

And finally, the moment he had been waiting for after a painful hour of waiting had arrived.

Sumire Shouda – in a modest black dress, with her hair pinned back except for her trademark curls – stepped into the spotlight, violin in hand.

Koko leaned forward, with his elbows resting on his knees. Despite his oblivion of music, he had attended the concert because of her. He wanted to watch Sumire play, because despite his dislike of watching people play their instruments, the woman's playing never failed to mesmerise him.

He did not take his eyes off her for even a moment. He watched her as she raised her violin to below her chin, and she held her bow millimetres above the thin strings of the instrument. Koko recalled the piece she was about to play as something by a composer of whose name he couldn't pronounce, but he had been notified that it was a sad piece.

The only way he could tell that this fact was true was from the expression on her delicate features.

Even Koko was able to sense the passion she exerted in playing her instrument – the way she swayed to and fro, the swift movement of her fingers, her immersed expression, and the alternating speed of her wrist as she moved the bow against the strings.

Not many people other than Koko would believe that Sumire – the former president of the Natsume-Ruka fan club, as well as the bossy girl in the classroom – had the ability to play music so passionately. Every time he watched her play, he always saw a completely different side of her, which she effectively hid from others.

Sometimes, he was disappointed that she reserved this side of her for music, and only music.

Because he felt like he could watch her play her violin for days on end, and he would never get bored for a moment.

Koko saw the bow start to slow down in its movement, and he knew that the song and her movements were coming to an end. As she finally finished the song, the audience roared in applause. He, however, didn't hear it or pay any mind to it, as he smiled and watched her bow three times, before leaving the stage.

At the end of the concert, he quickly made his way to where he had planned to meet her. From a distance, he saw Sumire shaking hands with the director and the staff, as she carried her violin in its case. Koko immediately walked towards her and tapped her shoulder, and she immediately spun on her heel and smiled.

…Thanks for coming, Koko, she spoke to him in her mind.

He grinned back, as he gave her a thumbs up. At his reaction, she couldn't help but look down, slightly embarrassed, but her smile had turned bittersweet.

You didn't have to come though, Koko… it would have been okay if you didn't come.

Koko looked directly at her – shocked and wide-eyed.

"I wanted to come." He murmured underneath his breath, to the extent that he didn't hear himself talk.

…but you can't even hear the music. You're deaf!

All Koko did after she sadly thought about the accident which had taken away his hearing was pull her into his chest in a tight hug.

"…I can still watch you."

He was devastated by the fact that she was crying for his sake.

Koko knew she was crying in the first place not because he could hear her, but he could feel the moisture soaking into his shirt.