Music Class: Day One//CLOSED//

There is a faint audible sound that goes through the hallways. At first, they would thought it was possibly nothing, but then the sound will become more clearer. That sound became the sound of music of the violinist. A violinist that produces such elegance and grace with each sound. That sound of music is coming from inside the classroom. Inside the classroom, there are a couple rows of mahogany eight foot tables with four chairs on each table. Stacks of music textbooks are in each tables as well. There’s also a large wooden desk right behind the chalkboard that was already written in calligraphy writing. It says: ‘Welcome to the world of music’ A black violin case sitting on top of the large wooden desk as well as his oval-rimmed glasses. There’s also a grand piano sitting right at the back of the of the classroom.

The classroom is almost practically empty, but where’s the teacher that teaches this class. Well, he’s here alright. Mr. Tanibaze is standing right at the corner right behind the grand piano. Is this a game? No. This is not a game for this Englishman. He’s basically honing his violin skills with the Solstice Violin one hand and the bowstring on another hand. The way that he plays almost reminds him that he’s probably another person from another world with that level of playing.

His clothes have a taste of an appropriate Englishman from head to toe. His creamy cotton fiber long-sleeve shirt that covers his lean muscular built. The shirt has a light frill on the upper chest as well as the light puff on those shoulders. Covering his creamy shirt is the vest of Cardinal red that fits all to snugly around his form. The vest has a tail that goes down to the lower thigh. Complementing that clothing is his darkish brown pants that also hangs down to his ankles. His shoes are of a brown leather with black socks to compliment those shoes. Those almond eyes are closed as those hand, which holding the bowstring, strum through the strings of his violin.

Today is his first day being a music teacher in this institute of Caislin Hallows. Unfortunately for the part that he was forced to quit the academy under normal circumstance. Still, once he has accepted into this institute, all of his worries are but a fleeting dream. As his solo violin concert came to a coming close, those almond eyes opens to the still empty classroom. His hand slows down some before coming into a stop. There, he graciously makes a light bow like any other Englishman would. Simply waiting for these ‘students’ to arrive so he can really get started.

Entering the room where music trailed from. Wearing blue jeans, and a white shirt with elecritic blue splattered along it. "Wow, beautiful." His hands dove into the confines of his pants pockets. Now this was a class he could love. He stood there, watching, listening. Was this man the instructor? He played wonderfully, which gave him credit as an instructor. Keeping his distance, he bowed at the hip. "A pleasure to meet you. Kouichi Aizawa, at your service." His bow ended just as quickly as it came. The bandana that worked so hard to dam up his hair was around his neck. Allowing those blonde locks falling flat. This class would be fun. His eyes opened wide enough to allow his hues to be seen. The static in them seemed wild.

His eyes wandered, finding all these musical instruments that were untouched. A smile crossing his lips. How wonderful this room would be upon filling. With a sigh, he relized he had not spotted a shakuhachi or a shamisen. Though this did not really bother him much. Simply gave him a goal. Learn a new instrument. Or make his own. Turning back to the instructor, a joyful chuckle escaping him. "Would you mind playing that again? I enjoyed it." A request some would only ask a friend. His hands stayed deep within the caverns of his pockets. As he focused on the man. this class would be one he would enjoy indeed.

The sound of music filled the hallways, ensuing those that could catch the sound of peace in the air. Like colors in the sky, the music painted a Northern Light mural in the air above. The sound of someone playing the strings as gently as angels, but as beautifully as the orchestra of the great kings. Yet something was amiss. Something quite wasn't right as this form made her way through the hallways.

With a hush of bare feet, pattering against the hard cold marble of the floor tiles beneath her. A long black skirt, touched with almost see-through material until the middle of her thighs, where it darkened to hide the form. Clashing against a white form fitting collared shirt, attached along it a bright red tie that became the center of her ensemble. The feet pitter-pattered against the floor as she was drawn towards the dying sound of music. Then at last it was quiet, she heard mumbles beyond the door and stopped to listen to what was being said. ''Would you mind playing that again? I enjoyed it." This made a smile reappear on the face, poking at her cheeks like little pins in a cushion.

Her hand held tightly to the door knob, hoping that she would not interrupt too much as she opened the door. The only sound was the clicking of the lock as she pushed the door open, it would creak as it opened slowly. Quickly the small form shot in through the door, mismatched hues searched the room surrounding her in slight amazement. The colors she had followed throughout the hallway, she found them overfilling the room, in so many colors of music and emotion alike.

Those mismatched hues landed on the two gentleman before her, and with her knowledge of Formalities she let a smile touch the rose petals once more, lifting the end of her skirt in hand as she curtsied deeply towards the too men. ''Bienevue monsieur's.'' She did not speak french, but had picked some up from a few of the students around campus that had spoken it fluently.

Vincent’s form rises from the so-called elegant bow that he has made to himself after he made a moderate performance inside the classroom. Maybe he should this more often, when he has time in his hands. Mr. Tanibaze steps from behind the grand piano as those orbs of almond lingers on the blonde young man. Those clothes and that accent remind him of something but what? Maybe he can get into more detail as class continues on. ‘A pleasure to meet you sir. Kouichi Aizawa, at your service.’ A light smile seems to show on his face from the comment that he made. Introduction are important in such days as he clearly says nothing and moves from the side of the grand piano to right behind the desk.

Calmly and gently, Vincent puts down the violin and the bowstring on top of the large wooden desk. A hand extends over to pick up the oval-rimmed glasses from there as that hand rise up and places it right above his nose. Those eyes are closed as he was doing this process only to open those almond orbs when his glasses is put on. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kouichi Aizawa. My name is Vincent Tanibaze, but you can called me Vincent or Vince, whichever you prefer.” He spoke in such a British tone before continuing, “Anyway, I’m the music teacher in Caislin Hallows. Though, this is my first time teaching here.” Vincent makes a light forty-five degree bow to Aizawa before he listens to his comment, ‘Would you mind playing that again? I enjoyed it.’ This, too, made Vincent smile once again. “Another performance? Well…”

Just as he was about to finish the sentence, a voice is heard, ‘Bienevue monsieur’s.‘ A rather feminine voice as those almond orbs quickly darts over to the young feminine with clean attire. “Oh. Bonjour mademoiselle. Pales vous Francis?” There that smile that never fade from his face. Clearly, he learned how to speak French clearly, but not completely. “My name is Vincent, pleasure to meet you and welcome to music class.” His almond orbs gaze over to Aizawa, with his hint of his British accent, “As I was saying, I would be honor to have another performance after class.” A clear response from this person before his gaze goes over to her, “Would you think so mademoiselle?”

A light smile never fade as Vincent speaks, “Anyway, before I can do that, let me give the two of you a brief summary. This is music class. We’ll learn the history of how music came to be from the prehistoric age to the most modern like rhythm and blues, and rap. There are also Irish music that I’ll be teaching you as well, as I want to more about the music that transpires in Ireland. Plus, we’ll learn about the instruments that make music possible and we might even might hold a performance or a solo act here. As one should say, music speaks what cannot be expressed, soothes the mind and gives it rest, heals the heart and makes it whole, flows from the heavens to the soothing soul on our bodies.” Both of his hands together, rubbing them calmly, “Also, I’ll be teaching the class how to play your favorite instrument. That is, if either of you lot have your favorite instrument that you like to know and play. Anyway, do either of you have your favorite type of music genre?” There goes that British accent as those almond orbs looks at the two of them.

Listening silently, he began to search the flutes. How they seemed so odd to him. Yet, he reached for a rather old wooden flute that best matched what instruments he was used to. A spear tipped tongue rolled along thin lips. Before he lifted the flute to his lips. Releasing air as needed, his fingers bent to close the finger holes. Long fingers moved in a pattern as a very oriental tune escaped the flute. A melody that seemed to bare a heavy heart. Sarrow and loss danced, painting audible portraits of bloody battles and crying families. His eye lids seemed to be held closed by gravity, and his body planted firmly as if rooted to the floor.

Such a brief tune. As if written during times of turmoil where time was limited. The wind instrument falling from his lips, leaving only a straight face. Arm extending to replace the flute in its spot. His head lowered in respect, before he turned back to face the pair. "I dabbled in flute and shamisen... But the shamisen is not present. So therefore, flute will be fine." His lips seemed to spread with a friendly grin. All evidence of such a sad tune leaving him. His eyes then turned to the female who had joined them. A chuckle escaping his throat.

"Unfortunately, I do not understand a word of that. But I can assume with great confidence it was a greeting." It was as though he was not being rude but admitting his lack of any such knowledge. And it was followed by a second bow at the hips. "A pleasure." The bow did not last, nor did his cheery exterior as he went back to examining room. Lost in his own little world.

Notes of solace filled the hallway that soft melancholy tune was hard to miss as she neared her newest class room. The song of somber was hard to miss and it was very alluring in the back of her throat she would begin to hum softly attempting to match each note. The subtle gently beat of her bare feet could be heard every now and then when she was feeling a little more in tune with her actions. She was not the only she noticed that liked to have their feet free to dip into the surface of the world, no she had seen at least one other. Tristan always got on to her about not having shoes but she hated the fashion and did her own thing. She was not one to follow a crowd or set an example in reality she was far from that and perhaps some would say that she nothing more than bad company

Violet eyes watched from a distance as the others seemed to enter the door in which the music was being played it was obvious that is where she needed to go. Yet, another one of Tristan’s ideas for her that she needed to learn the historical value of music and be able to understand its origin. The only origin thus far that she knew was that’s of the Seelie. She assumed however that it was all the same notes set to words to tell a story or to express something in a different way. Nodding to herself with a twisted little devious smirk on her lips of course it was the same it had to be or at least so she thought.

A black frayed end skirt hung just above her knees slits were cut out of the material leaving it very jagged. The idea was to give the fabric room to flare with each step taken and sew into the jagged sends were these little bells that would jingle as she walked. You wouldn’t miss her sneaking up on you in this little outfit but she still liked it al the same it was another of her creations. She thought about making a club for those that would like to learn more about the different fashions around the word but she would give it a rest for now.

Pressing her hand against the door she would look inwards to make sure that she was not interrupting anything. Normally she would let the long locks of lavender hair rest against her but today she wore it up in a French twist letting the ends of her hair flare out over the top of her head. Stepping into the room not recognizing anyone really yet she would smile to who she thought was the professor the one with the oval shaped almond eyes. The humming had long ago ceased as she smiled and curtsy towards him her fingertips lightly pulling at the fabric of her dress.

“Hello professor. I am sorry about my tardiness but the notes being played was just too alluring and caused me to delay. It was very beautiful we will be hearing that measure again? “

A humble chuckle escapes from Vincent’s lips as the chuckle was faded with a light sigh. “Don’t worry about it. Its basically another language that I’ve picked up during my travels.” He spoke with a hint of his British accent. Those almond orbs looks at Aizawa going through the instruments that are shown in rows. A light sigh seems to escapes from his lips only to continue to listen to a tune that was unheard of, but somehow familiar. “That tone. That melody..“ A hand moves to caress against his chin, “it represents the sorrow, the pain, and the hatred one had gone through in life. Each tone represent their own feelings into it. When one plays an instrument, their personal feeling are putted into that instrument. Whether may be happiness and joy or sorrow and full of guilt.” He has spoken with experience because he, too, has been through.

His mother left both he and his father to some corrupted politician only for money, and next there was a loss of his father, his personal idol and the person who inspired him to teach music to the younger generation. Lightly shaking his head a hand rise up to take off his oval-rimmed glasses, while his other hand takes out his white handkerchief from his side pocket. Vincent cleans the fog off of his glass as those almond orbs looks at he flute is placed back in its spot. ‘I dabbled in flute and shamisen… But the shamisen is not present. So therefore, flute will be fine.’ “The shamisen. Also called sangen. A three-stringed musical instrument played with the plectrum called a bachi. It dates back into the 16th century in the Ryukyu Kingdom.” Vincent puts the glasses back on only to continue, “I never expected to known that you can play the instrument Aizawa.” A hand moves above his head as a light scratch of his head is made, “I could’ve sworn that I saw one around here. Maybe by next class, I’ll find that instrument.”

Immediately after that.

’Hello professor. I am sorry about my tardiness but the notes being played was just to alluring and caused me to delay. It was very beautiful we will be hearing that measure again?'

Another feminine voice that comes from inside the classroom. Those almond orbs goes to the elegant woman with lavender locks. A small sheepish smile is made on those lips while it was followed by a light chuckle. Another student who is complimenting him of his musical piece. “Don’t by silly. It’s the first day after all, and I was in the mood to play a little melody on the first day.” Those almond orbs goes over to the other two students, “Basically, we’re discussing about teaching the class on how to play a particular instrument of your choice and possibly hold a performance to show your peers your…musical talent."

With the flick of his wrist, he slides the handkerchief back inside his side pocket. “Now then, since some of our students are either not here or simply lost. Let’s begin the first lesson.” One hand picks up the violin while the other hand reaches for the bowstring. He rests the base of the violin just below the chin as his left shoulder around so it’s under the chin rest and forms a support from below. “I’ll be playing a little melody. A melody that calms yourself. Soothes your mind from any negative harshness that you lot have. Negative thoughts equals regretful melody.”

That other hand moves the bowstring right against the “G” string halfway between the end of the fingerboard and the bridge. “All I need is you lot is to close your eyes and listen to the melody.” Then, it begins. The lightly strum through the string of the violin as to only focus on producing a steady and pleasant-sounding tone. At first, it was a steady beat only to produce the melody of one calm soothing tone. Once he has got started, there’s never stopping this violinist. Once again, he is producing with such elegant and grace for one such as him. Basically, he was producing a soothing tone to calm those mind of any distress that goes about.

This western man knew his instruments well. This brought a pleased smile tos Kouichi's lips as he continued to listen. Whether his eyes were closed or not was left a mere opinion. Yet, he did not stop examining the instruments. This hinted that he had not closed his eyes. The talent within this teacher was more than obvious. It was a grand performance indeed. A thin lanky hand raised and pulled at the bandana around his throat. As it came undone and fell from his collar, the arm fell and reached back. Tucking the cloth into his back pocket.

No words spoken, no greetings or farewells. Kouichi found a nice spot against a wall, sliding to a seat. His head leaning back, and eyes visibly closing. This mood. It was like sleeping under a tree during mid-day. Like that breeze that whispered grand songs. Oh this brought back days. Those of his childhood, playing tag and playing pranks. Oh those days were golden. His left leg extended, relaxing as his right bent and was used as an arm rest. His grin shrunk, still a slight smirk remained, and his breathing slowed. "Heh, if only we were all outside... It'd be perfect."

His mind drifted once more. This time memories were not so kind. This didn't effect his exterior, and yet he seemed lost in the hypnotic forest of melodies. Drawn by soft tunes, only to be lost in one's own self. Where one's fears and dreams all blended and yet seperated. Like two opposing sides of a war. Blending and falling as one massive slaught, and yet distinguished between by noted detail. It was not turmoil. No, this battlefield in his mind, this twisted view of happyness. It was possibly the best he had. Those females who had joined them. The notable one was the second. She had a familiar aura about her. The first of the two simply didn't hold his attention. In fact he merely wanted to learn about music, and to play.

Silence, came from the girl as she stood off the side watching as the teacher and this student spoke back and forth. The mind was lost in the collection of musical instruments, quietly and quickly, she moved across the room to gather a closer look to these instruments. How beautiful they were, shined and polished to look their best as others were hidden away in cases she dare not open. The door opened, quickly Merisa’s head shot to the side to see who was entering the class now as this school had quite the list of people being jumbled into these classes. Already she had seen and lost her chance at making a good impression on other students, but in Formalities she found herself at the right measure of confidence and polite mannerisms.

Right away she recognized the woman that came through the door, like a queen she demanded the attention of everyone and looked the part to boot. With but a soft smile, she listened as Lillian and the teacher spoke back and forth how nice she was to apologize for her tardiness. Merisa’s mind caught an instrument, a piccolo the small shining instrument at the end of the line. Quickly she stepped over towards it, grasping it into her hands and lifting it to her eyes, searching it over for any hint of life or enjoyment. Again those mismatched hues raised to meet those in the room with her, this causing her a slight feel of uncomfortableness settling in her bones, causing her to detach from the rest of the group, as she enjoy the sound that her music teacher was playing, she would enjoy it from a distance as she found an empty place against the wall and let herself lean upon it.

Watching those in the room, enjoy the music, dabble in conversation and movement. The words of her teacher stayed deep within her thoughts, as she felt they actually meant something more than what was let on. Perhaps becoming in touch with music and the gentle grasp of tone would suffice for the breaking point of life itself. Perhaps this was the reason why things could seem so crazy at times, but then fall into a gentle slumber with but a soft tinge of music. She had known this passion to be true, as when she hummed or sung the songs of her own kind, the life that had been so complex and shrouded with fear and doubt, became easier on shoulders and minds of those involved. But then again, maybe she was just fooling herself, thinking into things too deeply. She did know, that she wanted to approval of those that surrounded her, but would not kill herself or embarrass herself for this want of approval.

Softly spoken the head lifted and a gentle smile rose from the slim rose petals as between the words of her teacher and fellow student’s she would mumble. ’’So we are to learn the emotion within the sound of music? Or to jump in the river of notes, and allow history and wisdom of others to tangle on the mind…’’ Silence fell upon the woman again, as the sound of music enthralled her mind and whisked her away into a memory that was lost long ago in anger and in rage.

The hand, which holding the bowstring, strums delicately across the strings of the violin. His other hand pressing against the strings on the neck of the violin. Those almond orbs already closed to listen to the glorious sounds that he’s making with his violin. This violin is was actually given to his father after his passing to remind him that he’s not alone. There are people out there waiting, just waiting to be inspired the same way that his late father inspired him. His left orb is slowly open while continuing to play this little melody for observation. A light smile seems to show to see that his students are enjoying the melody. Vincent’s mind seems to drift back to the pleasant time when he was with his father as a child. Seeing his father play the piano with sheer enthusiasm will make any person smile with such glee.

Vincent’s lips suddenly part, “Now for the finale..” Those words was fleeting to those who heard him. Unfortunately, they are practically lost in thought because of the melody that Vincent is playing. After all, this melody was to relieve any emotional stress or negative thoughts. He begins to strum in a high note for a couple of minutes before strumming in a harmonic pitch. For the finishing touches, the elegant and gracious strumming has ended with a single pluck of the ‘G’ string. With that, the melody has come to an end. He moves the violin from the chin as the violin goes on top of the large wooden desk. The bowstring rests against the desk as well as his free hand grabs the white handkerchief from his side pocket. With his hand picking up the bowstring, he’d lightly wipe the bowstring. A hint of his light British accent is heard when he begins to speak.

“Alright students.” Those almond orbs slowly opens as he basically observing his bowstring. “I wanted you to experience the emotions with that melody.” Vincent carefully observe the bowstring only to place it down on the large wooden table. “Music has the ability to change the emotional and physical status of people. Happy or sad. Good or bad. What is right or wrong? We are all human beings, we experience the same emotions as everyone else. We all have a ton of emotions that control how we act and what we say.” His free hand rise up to take off his oval-rimmed glasses and begins to clean the specs, “Emotions can be triggered by many things. One of them is music. What I did is playing a calming melody with no hint of negativity. There are times people are in a foul mood and they use music to show them how they feel.”

A light smile spring up to his lips only to fade to existence. “In short, music can tap into your emotions. Now, I want you lot to come close to the wooden desk so we can discuss." Once they are close to the desk, he'll continue, "Aizawa-san, what do you think of the melody? I want you to tell me how you felt when I played that melody. Did it soothe you, or does it made you feel regret and full of tears. Anyway, take your time in thinking of an answer.“ The almond orbs turns towards the blond young man, then those almond orbs looks towards the two young women, "I'll be telling you two the same question that I asked him."

He blinked for a moment. Following his instructor silently till spoken to. "How it made me feel?" His lips scowled for a moment. Brows scrunching up as he thought hard. "Well..." He began, his expression returning to a peaceful grin that welcomed new and old friends alike. Those slanted closed eyes with the illusion of closed lids. The way his hair seemed to frame his features. Everything held such a friendly tone. "In truth, it makes me feel anxious." He seemed so relaxed. "Like the day before a big competition, or a dual. So calm, and tranquil. You begin to forget about fear. Forget regret, sarrow, anger. It all drifts away like the the wind scatters from a storm. Though, in your heart you know the storm is not what will instill fear back upon you, but the blazing inferno after. The turmoil and chaos. You simply wish to hold the moment before dear. Cherish it untill that carnage is over, so that you can once more gaze upon such beauty..."

How could he speak with such a smile? And worse he continued. "It also reminds me of the frightful thrill. The moment your blades meet. Your eyes lock and you put every drop of spirit into a strike. The moment both you and your opponent understand each other. The respect, the honor of meeting. It can simply be described as extacy." When he finished, he turned and walked back towards the instruments. "But I'm also a foolish man, who still walks the path of the sword. What would I know?" The lids of his shocking blue hues parted, and he began once more to inspect them. As though everything he had just said was gone in the wind also. Seemingly simple minded and foolish.

His back faced the rest. As if he had forgotten they were still there. Lost within a jungle of musical tools. An idioticly friendly smile plastered once more. Body sluched, unlike any trained person what so ever. Once more he found his place by the flutes. One girl seemed very proper, the otehr spoke as though she expected such answers. Still, he wished this class to be fun and that it was. A sly snicker escaping his lips as he awaited the otehrs to speak their answers.

The gentle smile remained expressed over her lips as she felt the almond eyes look at her, trying to muster the best innocent and yet delicate expression that she could. There was no doubt about it the music that she heard was beautiful and she was eager to learn more and perhaps in the process improve her singing spells. Little though did anyone know that she had anything to do with those anyway, as of now Tristan and perhaps Nate were the only ones living to tell the tale. Listening endearingly to the words that the professor expressed, he was younger than she had expected and talented, it was definitely going to be interesting to see how all of this played out.

Smiling softly she looked over to the other two students I the class, looking over at the different chair the closest one to her she would slip her hand across her cloths before she sat down. The melody would lightly cause her eyes to flutter shut as she listened to it, there was one thing that she enjoyed above all else and that was music. Swaying softly she would listen to the different notes being played she recognized a few of them, but it was the violin that was most distracting. The lids incasing the violet eyes would slowly start to raise open, and look towards the other students.

She thought for a moment that she should go and sit by them she would wait for a few moments after the professor got done playing. She knew who they both where, sighing softly she needed to be more assertive this wasn’t like her not to go out making friends. She just lacked a bit of confidence since the whole black lotus incident. Hearing the words about being outside perhaps she would suggest they go outside sometime and listen to the different music that nature plays.

Listening inventively she would look over to Merisa as she spoke and she would have to agree with her even though it was nothing above a breathless whisper. The simple action of her legs would cross right over left this would give her a little bit of room for her feet to sway comfortably. Violet eyes continued to look at the two other students she wondered who else they would be seeing come through those doors. A subtle sigh was breathed over her lips hearing the words that they would move towards the desk shrugging her shoulders carefully she stood back up and moved in the general direction. Keeping her hands just shy of touching her waist she placed them in front of her posture and waited to be addressed as she listened to Aizawa’s words giving him a smile.

The sound of music touched the soul, causing sick vibrations to echo through the mind like a lost art in the history of ages. A deep breath inhaled through the faded rose petals, as mismatched hues fell shut and calmed from their weary watch as the music fell through. As thoughts of the sound and the history behind the notes, even the emotion that was cradled between the lost folds of pauses and high pitched notes. If music were to take flight, and take color, in her calm sense she would see the room ultimately filled with the different shades and touch of sparkling justice notes.

The sound of the sound was weakening, as the mind would slow down from the touch of music. Taking a deep breath those mismatched hues would flutter open, and land on the boy that stood before her. As he spoke in rhythmical rhyme she would listen as this was what he felt about the music, how it made him express himself. With but a gentle smile on her lips, she would fold hands over her front clasping fingertips together. She awaited patiently as the man finished his words, they would reflect against the pale faced girl, eyes shifted to the ceiling as she let these words sink into her mind, grasping her into a slight sensation of words and deep thoughts along the point of the boy and what the class may bring to him.

Merisa was still rude, and wasn't much for waiting to be addressed, so quickly she spoke, with a slight stutter in the beginning to make sure she wasn't completely interrupting those around her. ''I-I-I w-w-would have to say, it made me feel completely the opposite of the boy.... It made me feel calm, and enjoying of life to the fullest in the most of spiritual ways. The things that are the simplest things are the easiest things to get a hold of, but the hardest things to keep track of.. Perhaps that my envision of the music en-tied with a certain amount of realistic life...'' She gave but a simple shrug as her words fell silent. Not knowing what else to pronounce of the music that everyone else didn't feel or know for themselves. She took a deep breath once more, and spoke almost incoherently. ''The colors of the music are so calming, and so enchanting as they dance across the windless room...Dancing like couples intertwined in the mood...''

Falling silent, she quickly moved a few steps back, the piccolo in her hand with silent steps her bare feet moved across the cold touch of floor. With a soft pitter patter, she moved over to the desk she saw from the corner of her eye and moved to it quickly. Smiling only slightly as she moved and sat in the seat, the long dress moving slightly as she crossed her legs, relaxing into the seat.

His arms are basically crossed as those almond hues slowly closed to the answer that Aizawa. That story that he told was in a tragic play but… it was filled with regret and turmoil. To think that Aizawa is going through so much. The path of the warrior is but a harsh one as to the way of the sword. After Aizawa has finished saying what he’s going to say. “I see. To regret is to ascertain oneself. Though to know a path to take is to make the journey worthwhile. In all retrospect, you know the path that you have to take. How should you journey though the path is basically the question that only you know the answer. In truth, your answer is rather astounding to say at least. Most excellent and what know.” His wording has ended as those almond orbs slowly opens to gaze at the blonde haired young man. Vincent gaze went to the lavender hair young woman, who is remaining silent while talking is going on. He cannot help but smile at this and basically nods his head some.

Letting her be would be the best suggestion for Vincent as those almond hues goes over to the woman with mismatch hues. In fact, he didn’t even ask for each of the female names. How rude of him. Make a mental note: Ask those two their names before class is over and done with. After she was finished saying her piece, Vincent makes a light laugh as a light sigh is made after his little humble laughter. “Ah! Very interesting conception. You felt calm and enjoy life to the fullest. Things are rather simplistic as it seems, yet there are one and the same. Music breathes life into the room as a caterpillar turns into a monarch butterfly.” A hand would reach down inside his side pocket of his pants to pull out a fifty pound sterling to show to his students.

He begins speaking, “As you see before you is a coin, well a pound sterling coin from England for you lot. As you already know, a coin has two sides. Heads and tails. Music is like a flip of a coin. One side, you feel calm and love to enjoy life to the fullest as the young mademoiselle explain. The other side is a side is what Aizawa-san said, the thrill and anticipation of what happening next. Both of your explanations are extraordinary.” Vincent gaze at the piccolo in her hand when she moves over to the desk, “I see that you are interested in that woodwind instrument. I would discuss further about your assignment for the day, but first.”

He turns his attention to the lavender young woman, “You seem…quiet and uncertain, correct? Is there something on your mind when I played that melody?” A question that he asked to those two before he continues, “Oh! One more thing. May I have your names you two?” He asked for these two elegant and graceful ladies, “It seems that I didn’t ask for your names before beginning class. I apologize.” There was a hint of the British accent when he spoke to them. Then again, he has short term memory for things such as this.

Staying in front of the desk not to close and not too far away listening to the words expressed by the professor. The ideas that presented were quite interesting indeed, this was going to be a fun class she had no doubt about it. Keeping herself poised a hand would gently lift only to brush the strands of lavender off of her shoulder. Violet hues searched upwards to capture the professors stare as he addressed her, a soften glow appeared on her cheek. She wasn’t completely comfortable in this environment without really any friends, which his perhaps what he picked up most on. Yet, she was rather good with her many mask’s so the fact that he pointed it out only made her wonder. What exactly she did for him to take that type of notice.

“Professor, you are correct about those feelings yet they are not directed strictly towards music. Yet, the music side of the spectrum would be that I see things in nature. That each plant, rock, and animal all have different sounds they make. They are all part of the a cycle that is created. For example: the wind blow through the trees creates a rustle sound add in the sound of water flowing over peddles in a nearby stream. That is what I hear when any type of music is played. I have also been able to travel, and different sounds remind me of different countries and lands. Each note holds a particular value…”

She would stop herself short feeling as if she went on some type of tangent, which caused her cheeks to glow even more of a red. Looking over to the other students she bet they had some weird look on their faces with her answer. All in all it made sense to her, but trying to convey it across to others seemed to prove a bit of barrier. Smiling she of course at least knew Merisa’s name though she had not gotten to know her like she would of liked. Keeping her eyes on the professor she smiled softly before she spoke.

“ Lillian Dashelle.”

"You already know my name Vincent-sensei." He spoke, setting the flute back down, he turned to return to the proffessor and his classmate. Hands finding their ways into his front pants pockets. He didn't exactly understand the lavender haired girl, but perhaps if he waited she would explain. One could hope at least. His electric blue hues become visible as his eyes opened wide enough to compare to most average asian males'. Which made his blonde hair seemed died during it's brief moment. They jumped between the two, before closing back to their normal positions. Once more his eyes seemed to be closed, nodding to the last girl's responce.

A responce could only be an attack, and therefore he kept his mouth shut as he simply awaited Merrisa to talk. His gaze shot to her for a moment before returning to the other two he accompanied. "But if you think clearly and logicly about music, emotion begins to fade and lose meaning." He chuckled, head dropping to the right as pops sounded along his neck. His lips locking tightly as he stiffled a yawn with little effort. Before he turned to the proffessor. "Are we to assume there is no assignment the first day?" It was like a lazed offer to give others work. His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. Any assignment would be something to do. Which gave it ahigh priority. Otherwise he would end up wandering aimlessly around the school. He really didn't want that.

He listens to Lillian speaking about how nature and music are incorporated with one another. A smile makes its way to those lips of his. “Very interesting. Very interesting indeed.” A hand is gently pressed against his chin as those almond orbs are closed to think on the matter. After second of thinking, he open those orbs as his attention turns to Lillian. “Your are right to have your own perspective of the side of music. Though, everything as it should be, but all and all. That was incredible to include. Perhaps a field trip would be in order to go into a forest to listen perhaps? I can probably play a melody while we listen to the flora and fauna one day. Well, its nice to see you Ms. Dashelle.”

His attention quickly turns to Aizawa with a reply, “Yes I do. Aizawa-san and I do have an assignment planned but first. I’ll tell you, Ms. Dashelle, and the young mademoiselle that starting tomorrow. A project will begin. The project is a performance. A solo performance mind you. A spectacle amongst your peers. A chance to display your musical creativity to your fellow students. I‘ll discuss it further on the next class time.”

A light chuckle escapes from those lips of his as those almond orbs look at the students before continuing, “Anyways, today’s assignment is to write a half-page paper on the type of music that’s your favorite. Meaning your favorite type of music. Like, classical, rock and so forth. I want to know what is your favorite type of music, why is your favorite, and does that type of music inspired you in some way. Example: Playing a classical music inspires me to proceed further or gave me an idea on how to approach such and such. Plus you can incorporate the composers and/or band that incorporate with that type of music.”

A hand is raised up as those eyes are closed, “And yes this will be graded. So do you best.” His hand firmly pressed against the desk in front of him. “You have the rest of the class time to complete and turn in on the desk, so take your take and if you want material to use and write. I might find some...” He crouches down and picks up a stack of blank college ruled paper from the chair and places it on top of the desk. He opens the drawer and pulls out a couple of No.2 pencils from there and places it on top of the desk as well.

Violet eyes would roam over both of the males in the class first back towards her fellow student as she would offer him a bit of a suggestive smirk, and then back towards the professor. Tilting her head slightly hearing him state his opinion about how music will lose its emotion and value if you start to think of it clearly. Pressing her finger against her lip she would contemplate on saying something but she would hold her tongue a little bit longer. Scrunching up her nose hearing the world assignment she was slightly hoping it would be an easy day, formalities had already given her an assignment as well. Drifting her gaze back over towards the professor to see what his reaction was, as she tried to give him her most innocent look.

Blushing lightly as the professor addresses her assessment about music, music was at the pit of her being it was one thing that Tristan taught her first about anything else. Perhaps, if she felt brave enough she would sing for them a spell if she could get her mentor to join her of course. A flush of hotness ran over her cheeks as she commented on her idea and actually decided to make it into a field trip, how exciting! Blinking lightly a performance, her mind raced about what she would continue to listen intensively.

A soft sigh pressed passed her lips hearing about the half paper about the music she liked, there was so much to choose from she wasn’t sure what she should pick. Nodding a bit she had in mind what she would do and the fact it was going to be graded it would only make sense to do what she knew best. Luckily the Unseelie was not in her class so it would be a little bit easier to expressing herself walking over to the desk she would just lightly brush past the professor. Reaching to take a piece of paper as well as a pencil only to walk back over to a vacant desk and take a seat as she started to write about her favorite music.

Listening to everyone, taking in all the sounds of their voices and the tone of the one boy who seemed to be quite uneasy in her presence. Maybe it was just Merisa, but she felt very uncomfortable feeling like the outcast of the class. But here she sat, at the desk waiting for something to happen, listening to the sound of her professor’s voice as he spoke of music and all things that entailed with their details. How he wanted to know her name for class reasons, she felt uncomfortable, how strange it would be. Forcing those mismatched hues to lock back onto Vincent she allowed for a moment to enjoy herself, as if there was no one else in the room, as if she were the only one hearing the music, as she knew she was the only one seeing the colors of music fill the air in the class room so small.

She hadn’t been paying attention to the lovely Lillian as she spoke, which was unusual, this woman had always stolen her attention from teachers and students but today she seemed slightly off. With a gentle smile on Merisa’s lips for this woman Lillian, she would allow those mismatched hues to lay back on Vincent again. She awaited him to finish speaking, then Aizawa chirped in before she could say anything, again Merisa bit down on her lip and allowed the circle of the class continue on. Her bare feet against the cold marbled floors made her body temperature cool and send shivers up her body, causing her to shake in her seat, making the desk creak with a soft moan from her movements.

Watching as everyone would converse, shifting their ideas from one another through a verbal act. Still Merisa sat, ever so quietly, ever so sweetly just off to the side almost out of sight. Mismatched hues darted about the room, watching the sound of music float through the air. She listened as Vincent spoke once again, she did enjoy hearing him speak he wanted a letter he wanted a page of music. This was such a simple task it was quite humorous as she thought this a gentle giggle would escape her. Mismatched hues grew large and wide as she found herself being verbal in the class room , in a most inappropriate way. Quickly she hushed herself and forced those mismatched hues to slam against the desk, as hands would reach and grab her trusty bag that she carried around during classes. This time remembering to take it from Miss Danae’s class this time.

With a soft smile on her lips, she’d watch as Lillian started on her paper, and shortly after so did Merisa, scribbling away her crazy thoughts on the precipitation of it all. With a deep breath, she started.


Music – Mr. Vincent Tanibaze.

Music…How to put such a thing into words without being overly dramatic of it..And to pick a favorite of it all, is near impossible as you can never hear everything from one genre, so there fore you can not truly say you dislike something without hearing all of the options of that course. I digress, only to reword your topic of this paper to; Music That Is Cherished. I do hope you don’t mind that I do this Mr. Tanibaze, but I find it easier to put it this way. Music that is Cherished…By the heart, mind and soul of my being. The music that reaches deep into ones soul, and pulls out the hidden secrets only to lay them across the skies. Music can help in times of sorrow, and this is where Jazz and Classic music comes into terms, such as Frank Sinatra and Mr. Armstrong.

Also the sounds of a voice, that is as strong as the bass that plays behind it. This brings me to ‘Rock ‘N Roll’ which in terms is a very variety style kind of music as it ranges from Classic Rock to Heavy Metal, and all forms I do enjoy and take into concept, but it seems music touches the soul in the time of need of a mental stability. During the time of ‘Rock ‘N Roll’ the mindset is usually that of an angrier personality, or one that wants to become rowdy and enjoy the troublesome form of life that becomes represented by our responsibilities, or lack there of. So to put plainly, it would depend on the mood to bring out a favoritism in music itself. But alas, I bring up my final point of music, the…How do I state this..Random and more..Unique side of my music..Which would be Opera and Orchestra. This style of music I find to be quite intriguing as there are usually no lyrics to Orchestrated music, which leaves it open to interpretation and brings closure to the music lover. Or Opera, where it is so emotional, and so personal, that the words jump right off the pages as you sit and listen to a Sonata. Music, is not to be forced to favoritism, but to be open to interpretation because you never know when something will impress you next.

Thank you Mr. Tanibaze.
-Merisa Anne Labelle.

With the completion of her letter for her teacher, quickly the body would raise and in silence her bare feet , the long black dress dragging along on the floor behind her as she quickly made her way to his desk. She would nod to him, and rest her paper on the corner of his desk, then she would curtsy him and turn on spot, in silence she retreated to her safe haven of a desk on the side of the room. She sat, and resumed her staring of colors of music awaiting to see what would happen next in this class. Field trips, and dancing , assignments and uncomfortable silence. What else next...

Kouichi's throat grumbled with curses. With what translations could be made, something about a worthless essay. The rest was a string of musical sounding foreign words. As though it was more annoying than anything. Clipping the paper and pencil from the instructor, he chuckled. "This is discrimination..." He mumbled under his breath at last. Heel pushing into the floor and spinning. He walked towards a desk.Seating himself and staring at the paper with a blank stare. As though he had no clue there was otehr forms of music. Then again, he was pretty sure he was lacking the insight to judge such a way. Along with a rather indifferent view on the subject. If the song seemed good, he enjoyed it. How fair was it to choose a 'favorite'? The pencil held in his left hand, as though he was left handed, though he wasn't writing anything, simply tapping his left temple to think.

How fair could such a subject be for an essay? Still, he thought. As though it was an essay about his future or perhaps some other unknown subject. Turning his attention to Merisa. She seemed at ease with such a topic. "How trivial." He whispered, head shaking back to stare at the paper, this time anger crossed his brow. It seemed as though he was placed in this class as punishment. Finally the answer came. And he began to scribble his essay in a broken, spot by spot format. An irrational writing style. Where gaps between each entry varied.


When it all came together, Kouichi examined it. Not exactly what was assigned. He did not expect a high grade, simply did as he was asked. Giving his views. He wasn't perfectly proud of his work, but being content was the best offered. Standing, foot falls drew him back to the instructor's desk and dropped the paper. "Sensei... Can I have permission to barrow a flute?" He turned to returned to the flutes in the room. Grasping a horizontal flute that was almost identical to the Japanese Shinobue. His eyes partially opened and gazed at it.

Vincent would stand there right behind the wooden desk as those almond orbs looks at the students before him. It is a simple assignment for them to complete and its gonna be grade them on how well it is written. A light sigh escapes from his lips as Vincent raise his hand only to scratch his the side of his head some. Those almond orbs are slowly closing only to think about something on the matter. Maybe he should go out and explore this place. To get his bearings down and possibly find a perfect place for his class to take. A hand moves from the side of his hair only to place his fingertips against his forehead to think about this. It is a good thing that he hasn’t told anyone about his arcane powers..yet. Minutes has been passed by like a fleeting moment that gone unnoticed until he felt his arm lightly brush up against. In an instant, his arm was pulled back like a defense mechanism.

His eyes looks at Lillian as he watches her take a piece of paper and the pencil from the desk. A hand moves on down from his forehead only to open those almond orbs of his and looks up at the clock by the wall. “Hmm?” He has forgotten the time. It is almost time for the class to come to a close. How time flies when music is involved. Those almost orbs looks at the student before looking at the desk before him. He sees Merisa sitting up and passing the paper to the front desk. He gives Merisa a slight bow as he watches her goes back to her seat. Vincent turns his gaze over at Lillian as a light smile is made. Then, he gazes towards Aizawa-san turning his paper in. Seems that the two of them have finished their papers.

A hand cups against his chin as those almond eyes gaze over to the flutes. “You want to borrow a flute Aizawa-san? I didn’t know that like to partake in that particular woodwind instrument. It is rather astounding to say at least to know how they work. By all means, you can borrow one.” Vincent was rather speechless about Aizawa playing the flute. Though, this will be exciting to see him play in the future. “Anyway, it would seem that our time sadly has grown short as class has come to an end. For those who have finished the paper, you may leave at your own leisure or you can stay and look at the display of musical instruments before you. That or you can wait til I grade your paper, so I can give it back to you. Tomorrow, I’ll explain the project in further detail and I will assure you that this project will be so exciting and yet inspiring for your peers. If you have any questions, please don’t hestiate to ask.” With a smile on his face and a graceful bow from the teacher, he’ll sit himself down and picks up the papers that both Merisa and Aizawa wrote on the type of music. His hand raise up to push up his oval-rimmed glasses close to his face.

Taking a deep breath, Merisa stood with no time to waste. Throwing her things back into that reliable grey shoulder bag she moved past the other students and the teacher until she came to the door. Grasping the handle she turned to face the teacher. ''Perhaps I could speak to you in private about music some other time Monsuier Tanibaze? Until then, good eve'.'' She turned to face Lillian, and curtsied to her in her utmost proper manner. ''Do enjoy Madame Dashelle, and do tell Tristan I will have his coat for him by dinner.'' With a gentle smile and a small wave Merisa left the room.



[Exit]

The pencil would in script the words in a delicate penmanship, while she worked on the composition that the professor requested of them. Violet eyes would look up every so often looking at her fellow members. Smiling brightly at the beautiful woman she really needed to make some new friends, but she was careful perhaps a little too careful this time. Biting down gently on her bottom lip it would appear that she was deep in thought as her hand continued to pencil the words on to the paper, the smirk though off set the whole theory.

What indeed was she working on? The assignment clearly called for you interpretation of music and what better what then to get to know the teacher right? Her idea was simple to get to know him and perhaps be able to find more out about him, she loved music why not? Wayward strands of hair brushed across her cheek , she would lift up a hand and guide the strands behind her ears.

“Music is the feeling inside you get when you hear your favorite song, or noise around it. It feels you with a type of pleasure that is indescribable. That tingling sensation in the pit of your being, coming up through your body only to explode out any way possible, it makes you want more. My favorite type of music is anything that speaks to your soul in any type of way. A good beat never hurts, because it gives you a rhythmic beating. “

Smiling softly she would skip down towards the bottom of the paper and would write…

“ If you are not busy perhaps I could stop by your office later or meet you in the gardens and I can explain what I mean, or even show you.”

Pressing her hands against the desk she would rise and walk over towards where the professor was, handing him the paper. Smiling brightly she would place it on his desk and then head towards the door for an exit if he stopped her she would halt if not she would return to class the next day.

There he is, looking through their half-page paper for grading. Those almond orbs carefully looks at Kouichi’s paper while those hands are holding the paper before him. Vincent read the paper, word for word, basically reading a simple story. This work is remarkable to say at least. The way that he talks about the way music interpret the ways of the dead. Who knew that Vincent never thought of it that way. It was simply careful moderation that music is cherished as well as life. With the paper placed against the desk as a hand picks up a black pen from on top of the desk while his other hand push up his glasses close to his face. There, the pen touches the paper and writes near the bottom of the page. Outstanding Aizawa-san. Simply outstanding. I commend you on the job well done. I implore you to keep up the good work. A+ for effort.

The paper is set aside as the almond orb turns to Merisa seeing her about to leave. Vincent would listen to what Merisa has to say as a light smile seems to show. “Just name the time and the place and I’ll be there. Until then, Au revoir.” A hand rise only to give her a light wave before seeing her off. Alright next off. He gazes over to Merisa’s paper only to pick it up with his hand and goes to reading the paper silently. Another exceptional work. It is like this paper almost touched a part of his soul. That and it almost brought a single tear upon reading this. Slowly, he’d shakes his head from side to side when he reading the part about that she likes Opera and the Orchestra. Once Vincent finish the paper, the paper is on top of the desk.

With the pen in hand, he wrote in the same cursive writing as the previous paper. Exceptional, I mean, Outstanding work on you paper. Merisa. It has and possibly will brought joys to those who have read this paper in the past. Simply exceptional indeed. A+ The paper is set aside as he sees the new paper setting down in front of him. Slowly picking up the paper, he quietly reads it, word for word. “Huh?” His lips part slightly before closing fully as Vincent was a bit shocked on that sentence. Quickly, he shakes his head as the glasses is slipping to the tip of his nose.

The paper is put down with no a pen written on it or anything, “Could you wait for a moment Ms. Dashelle? Don't worry, you are not in trouble.” His tone has a hint of seriousness, but she wasn’t really in trouble for anything. He was hoping to stop her for a brief chat and then she can leave. Well since he was just a little discussion between student and teacher after all. It just to get to know one another. A hand moves up to his oval-rimmed glasses as his single digit pushes it closer to his face. Almond orbs gaze right towards the lavender woman for such a brief moment before turning his gaze away from her.

A light sigh escapes from his lips, “Since class is technically over, I could…meet you at the garden for the discussion on what you mean. That, and I wanted to go explore inside the castle to get my bearings. If you are not busy, that’s is.” A response for this so-called invitation perhaps. With that, he begins to stand up from his seat as his gaze goes over to Aizawa-san. “Aizawa-san. As I mentioned before, you can borrow the flute as you please. Just bring the instrument back to class the next day, if possible…” He turns his gaze over to Lillian, “Well, off you go and I’ll see you there perhaps?” He spoke with that faint smile on his face.

Kouichi's right hand moved swiftly, grasping a horizontal flute. Wooden with hand drilled holes. "Yes sensei." He waved with his free hand. Wandering towards the exit. His index and middle fingers spinning the flute carefully. A foolish grin, accompanied by a emotionless but timid expression. Adjusting everything correctly, he then lifted the flute to his lips. Both hands holding it loosely. Fingers correctly placed. Knuckles arched, he drew in a deep breath. Pausing his pace at the door. He exhaled, emitting a high but gentle pitch. This only seemed to transition into a four note melody. As the door swung open, the fourth note was repeated for a second time. A melody that invited the mind into a vision of the tale.

If one chose to accept this invitation, they were lead to a celebration of sorts. The dinning hall the size of a castle or mansion. The inhabitants and participants of this feast were no human. Monsters of all kinds, each a different 'race of monster'. At the head of the feast. Sitting in very large purple hakama and keikogi, traditional swordsman's clothing. This man's hair was silver, and his eyes were far too human. These monsters did not attack, nor run from him. They drank and ate together. Enjoying the feast in a brotherhood of sorts. This went on for only a brief moment before the vision ripped away like it was a dream. Delivered back to the world of the living, where the room had not changed. "I'll have the next chapter by tomorrow." He bowed to Vincent, his lightning yellow hair spilling over the bandanna with a lazy flop.

He then turned and made his exit. "Untill next time Sensei. You too, senpei." He waved back at both teacher and fellow student as he disappeared. Only the sound of his wooden geta sandals echoed down the halls.

[exit.]