by beaple leone michaelmas


An inquiry into why Kahoko was chosen – and who was chosen first


[15 Nov 2010] So I was asking my friend moonlight how I should write Chap13 of BTG. Because she'd never even seen La Corda d'Oro, I had to explain how Kahoko got round to playing the violin when she never studied it formally. As I got to the part where I was telling her that a certain blue-haired narcissist had honed his skill through sheer effort, she suddenly, out of the blue, came up with this whacked up, wonderful idea. And like I told her I would, I'll write said idea down. Or, at least, attempt to, hehe. ::D

Warning: The sequence of canon events featured here are my based on my memory, so they're unabashedly altered not fully by-the-book. Hope you don't mind, as it doesn't complicate things much, anyway. Also, an OOC Len – I like to think of 'him' as the Len only select entities see.


I do not own La Corda d'Oro; the whole concept belongs to Kure Yuki-sensei.

This fanfic is based on Primo Passo.


A one-shot

Late afternoon in a dusty courtyard – the setting sun casting a brilliant orange glow against the polluted Yokohama sky. Children of various ages, girls and boys alike, race across their makeshift playground, their personal, magical kingdom which none other than their kind can see. A pale, handsome boy with an aura too listless for his age sits alone on a wooden bench a short distance away, nondescript backpack placed carefully beside him, sheet music in his hands.

The notes right before him attempt seduction, but, with a frown, his eyes lock straight ahead, at children so similar yet so different from himself.

"Why don't you go join them?" a familiar, tinny voice speaks into his ear.

Tsukimori Len slowly turns his great blue head, coming face-to-face with a flying, cheeky-faced something, a creature with a head no larger than his clenched fist. "Lili," he acknowledges in a monotone. "It's been a while."

The fairy pouts petulantly and casually perches on the boy's shoulder. "It's not my fault, you know," it says as it crosses its arms. "It hasn't been easy to find you alone lately. There's always some teacher or other hovering around you-"

"I'm sorry," Len interrupts, his apology barely sincere as a distraction – in the form of a soccer ball barely missing his face – demands control of his senses. "I'm preparing for a violin competition next month. It's going to be a national event, so I can't afford to be careless…"

The fairy raises its slit of an eyebrow as it studies Len's expression. As the boy wordlessly stares at the kid who apologizes profusely for almost hitting him, there is something akin to wanting in Len's face, a certain longing Lili had seen only once before, several years ago.

The day they first met. Rather, the day Len first glimpsed a pair of fragile wings hovering by the bell tower.

"Ne, Len-kun," it says, as the other kid quails under Len's unblinking stare and hastily runs back toward where his friends stand. "Are you sure this is what you want to do? Becoming too serious about something at such an early age… It kind of makes you miss out on a lot of things."

The child tenses, and Lili can feel the muscles on his shoulder contract. "What are you talking about?" the boy mumbles, casting his eyes down, back to his music. "Of course this is what I want. This is what I've always wanted."

Lili exhales – it can't believe how dense Len can be, for a kid of supposed above-average intelligence. "You can't play because you might hurt your fingers. You can't stay in school after classes because you have to practice. You can't even make friends with kids your age because you're always grouped with students older than you are," the fairy enumerates. It fixes a scolding gaze on its ward, who cringes under the intense scrutiny. "Even if none of these things bother you, they can't be taken lightly. You're only ten years old. You need to loosen up a little."

"But I'm fine, so what's the problem?" Len rebuts, brows furrowing, eyes still averted. "I'd rather play the violin than run around and get dirty… anyway…"

Yet he sighs the moment he says this, lifting his gaze, and frowning at nothing – and everything.

"Tsukimori Len!" The fairy takes flight, hands on its hips in indignation. "You need friends. I don't know if you've noticed, but you haven't got any – "

"I don't need friends," the boy interrupts, voice lifeless. He continues to look at something only he can see, a pensive, closed expression on his face. "Besides," he adds as an afterthought. "I have you…"

Frustrated, Lili puffs up its cheeks, raising its tiny, clenched fists to the high heavens in extreme irritation. "I'm an immortal, ageless fairy, you prat! You can't even explain my existence to people! Do you really think you can just claim your best friend is an imaginary, blonde… something? "

Len sighs deeply. "What do you want me to do?" he asks, suddenly petulant. "You gave me my talent, and you told me to use it well, but now you're telling me to abandon it?"

"I gave you your violin, not your talent," Lili corrects him. "Those are two different things-"

"Whatever." With a mixture of exasperation and exhaustion, Len picks up his backpack, and slips it on. Several meters away, a sleek black car had parked near the courtyard, and presently, a man in a plain black suit emerged from it, walking toward Len. "My ride's here. I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Hmpfh." The fairy crosses its arms, pouting excessively. "What will you do if I refuse to be seen by you ever again?"

Len raises an eyebrow, and considers the question for a moment. Then, with yet another sigh, he tells his friend, "I guess I'll just have to find someone else to talk to."

The guard skids to a stop beside Len, but the boy barely acknowledges his standard greeting. Distracted, he ignores the man's offer to carry his backpack, and in a dazed, languid way, begins trudging toward his waiting car. Had he bothered to take one last look at his friend, he might have been shocked at the change in the fairy's usual expression…

Lili's eyes had widened in realization, tiny mouth open in shock. Len's nonchalant statement had affected it deeply, the words reverberating, echoing, in its head.

I guess I'll just have to find someone else to talk to.

The fairy blinks its senses back to life, hovering in place for a few seconds spent in introspection. Unwittingly, unintentionally, Len had given Lili the solution to his problem. Forced isolation. Compelled interaction.

Stifling a tiny chuckle, the fairy strengthens its resolve, before disappearing with a sudden snap.


I've finally found you, it had said. I've finally found you-

Hino Kahoko sits with her back to the south wall of the music building, chewing her thumb in anxiety, her free hand hugging her bent knees. Earlier this morning, she had raced to school in her usual rush – hair in disarray, book bag flying in the wind – when something popped up in front of her, uttered an alarmingly exuberant declaration, and disappeared, leaving in its wake the odd, noisy clanging of the once-silent school bells. At present – at four in the afternoon on the strangest of Mondays – the memory of the unnerving incident was rendering her unable to focus on cleaning duty, making her prone to spacing out as she worried whether skipping breakfast for days on end had finally started to addle her brains.

So Kahoko, in her trademark non-confrontational, no-fuss, self-help style, chose to sort out her thoughts in the most private place in school she could think of. Hence, the crouching by the wall.

Kahoko sighs, and finally releases her almost-bloodied thumb. There's no point in thinking about all this, she tells herself with a slight shake of the head, especially since it's only the first time it's happened. If that… thing returns, she vows, maybe I'll start worrying then – just then.

Not altogether satisfied with her temporary compromise, Kahoko rises and begins to dust herself off. As her hands are engaged with her skirt, she hears the faint sound of a violin from a distance, and smiles at her decision of proceeding to this high school. Closing her eyes, letting her hands fall, Kahoko softly rests her back on the cold concrete behind her, straining her ears to hear more of that lovely, unearthly sound. And before she knows it, her feet are dragging her forward, her eyes open but unseeing, as her soul is trapped in a world of music, a reality where only one song is playing-

There is a boy looking back at me from the window, Kahoko notes vaguely, wondering why the violin suddenly ceases playing. She dimly registers the shock on his face, the widening of his eyes and the slow parting of his lips. Belatedly, almost lazily, Kahoko's eyes fall on the violin in his hand – was it him playing? Was it him weaving that beautiful melody? Just as she looks back at the stranger's face, intending to ask him why he had suddenly stopped playing, she recognizes the loathing etched in his expression.

Flushing, she realizes she has disturbed him.

"I-I'm s-so sorry!" she apologizes in a frenzy, holding her hands up in a universal gesture of admitting an honest, embarrassing mistake. "I didn't mean to disturb you – please continue – I'll – I should… go now-"

And without waiting for the blue-haired young man to even so much as mentally compose a reply, Kahoko runs away, almost tripping on her feet, cursing the excess dose of ditziness that has plagued her today, and vowing, swearing, to wake up early the next morning for a decent, hearty breakfast.


Tsukimori Len, arms akimbo, turns around and glares at the pseudo-fairy friend he has not seen in six years. "What do you mean you've met my match?" he demands of it, teeth bared in a most uncharacteristic show of emotion. "And why were you perched on her head, for Chrissake – It doesn't make any sense-"

"Nothing makes sense to you except music," Lili rolls its eyes, crossing its tiny arms, as it hovers a few feet by the school bells. "Listen, Len, all I'm saying is, I've found you a friend-"

"I've told you I don't need friends," Len reminds Lili, who is struck by how deep his ward's voice has become. "Besides, I don't have trouble talking to people when necessity demands it. Not that you would know, having been decidedly absent from my life for the past six years-"

"I'm sorry, okay?" The fairy apologizes for the nth time that afternoon. "I thought it was best that we separate ways, 'cause it didn't seem right for me to be your only friend. Besides-" it scrunches up its face in accusation, "you promised you'd make friends with other people if I disappeared-"

"What?" Len throws his hands up in utmost confusion. "I never said that – I don't remember making any promises, let alone of a kind as juvenile as you claim-"

"In any case," Lili raises its voice to make itself heard, "her name is Hino Kahoko, and I assure you she's your perfect match."

The declaration is met with unbelieving silence and a perfect raised eyebrow. "My match?" Len drawls, emphasizing his skepticism. "My match in music? But she's a Gen Ed student-"

Lili sighs – it really is impossible to get him to think of anything else. "You'll see, Len," it assures him with a vigorous nod of its tiny head. "Just try to get to know her, and you'll understand what I'm talking about-"

Len scoffs. "Fat chance of that happening," he replies coolly, settling down gracefully on the stone bench behind him. He looks exhausted, a tiny vein throbbing on his pale forehead. "I'm not going near her until she proves herself worthy of my attention-"

He stops talking, suspicious, as Lili's face cracks into a sinister grin. "Heh," it laughs softly, the sound like the ominous tinkling of chimes. "Who says I'm giving you a choice?"


Please pardon the excessive, perhaps 'unethical' use of the pronoun 'it'. And yep – the cliffhanger is an intentional one. We all know what Lili does to change Kahoko's life – and Len's, too – forever.

Re: the violin Lili gave Len – It's not the violin he's currently using; the gift was just a trigger for him to master his talent. Let's assume after his talent awoke, everything he'd achieved since then was due to constant practice mixed with determination.

For moonlight,ever-patient, and Lili, who disappeared just as things were getting exciting. [19 January 2011]