Magic Mêlée Music: V - Marumi

Overnight he had become the most popular guy at the entire school. Even Donatello seemed to respect him, and even Seraphina seemed to want to spend more time around him. Kenichi didn't really notice, however, as it seemed like both Marumi and Magnus didn't want much or anything to do with him anymore.

He came to the dining hall. In monotone phrases, Marumi scooped food onto a plate and handed it to him. He took his tray and tried to find Magnus, but his roommate was sitting at a table in the corner with only one chair. Kenichi stood there, wondering how he could improve upon this situation.

“Over here,” said a voice. He looked over. It was Donatello. He waved for Kenichi to take a seat by him and his crew. All of them were selected for the Great Concert. He hadn't bothered learning any of their names, as they seemed like the sort of people who he didn't want to be friends with. In his mind he just gave them nicknames like Cowlick and Cardigan. There was an open seat, and Kenichi wanted to sit down. So he did.

“Congratulations on making First Chair,” Seraphina said, scooting her chair closer to his. Donatello's face was briefly a mask of jealousy, but he soon recovered. Kenichi looked over at the cellist, the plush-cat-turned-purse seemed to be staring at him with its purple eyes. He poked his food with his fork. Maybe this was the thing to do.

“Thanks. Can you tell me more about your purse?” he said to Seraphina.

She blushed a little. “It's been in the family for years,” she said. “Some cat toy my grandmother or mother had when she was a kid. I thought it would look better as a purse, so I unstuffed it and added a zipper.” She grinned. “I am quite crafty, and not just in the spell sort of way.”

Donatello frowned.

“My mother at first was shocked to see what I had done to such a beloved family heirloom,” she said “beloved family heirloom” like she was quoting her mother, “but in the end, I think that she understood the necessity for modification. I mean, I couldn't just carry a toy around like some child, could I?”

Cardigan whispered to Kenichi, “The women of the Dolce family get their powers from the cat.”

“Does the cat ever tell you things?” Kenichi asked.

Everybody stopped what they were doing and looked at Kenichi. He instantly regretted the question. Of course a toy cat wouldn't talk to people, unless it were one of those novelty talking toys, but one of those in a family for years would have had its voice mechanism worn down by now. It was a stupid question.

“All the time,” Seraphina said in a quiet voice. “But only I can hear it.”

Donatello gave a nervous chuckle.

Kenichi nodded. “Neat,” he said. This made Seraphina smile, to the chagrin of Donatello. He continued to eat his food. This definitely was the manifestation of the cat in this world. Even though his heart felt heavy at breaking Marumi's promise, and at distancing himself from Magnus, he knew that he had a mission, and he intended to do it.

“If you'd like to practice together sometime,” Seraphina said. “I'd like that.”

Donatello looked like he had eaten something that tasted terrible.

Kenichi relaxed around the cool kids. Over the next few weeks, he even started spending more time with them. This was made easier by the stack of cash the cat had left him. He'd treat the others to things in town, and they grew to like him more. He practiced with Seraphina, sitting in one of those uncomfortably small practice rooms, he helped Donatello, who he started calling Donnie, with his swordsmanship, and even got some help from Cardigan and Cowlick on ways to improve his magic. He never learned their names, and by this time it would have been awkward to ask. Still, nobody ever used their names, so he still thought of them as Cardigan and Cowlick.

After weeks of practice, both on his own and with Seraphina, weeks of awkward silences from both Magnus and Marumi, and weeks of everybody paying attention to him, it was finally the night of the Great Concert. As he carried his guitar down the quiet halls, his footsteps echoing in the darkness.

That's when he saw the twins in front of him, Hurdy, holding a stiletto and Gurdy, a broadsword. “Hey there,” he said to the two fauns. They both glowered at him and approached him menacingly. He held up his hands, a gesture to show them he meant them no harm. But then he backed into something solid.

“You're coming with us,” said a voice behind him. It was magnus. Then he felt a cudgel come down on his head. Things went black.

When he came to, he was tied to a chair. He sat in the Angstrom dining hall. He saw Hurdy, Gurdy, and Magnus sitting at a table nearby. The final year didn't have much to discuss with the two first years, but still, they sat there. Hurdy was eating a bowl of ice cream, while Gurdy was eating a slice of cake.

“He's awake,” said another voice. Marumi stepped into the frame of his vision. She sat down across from him. “You made me a promise,” she said. “I intend for you to keep it.”

Kenichi struggled against the ropes that bound him to the chair. “You don't understand,” he said. “I have to defeat Scherzo. It was the only way I knew how.”

Marumi's eyes widened slightly when he said this. “Defeat Scherzo?” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “I know this will make me sound crazy, but I've been sent from one world to another to defeat a dark lord. I've been sent here to defeat Scherzo. When I've defeated him, I'll move on to the next world to defeat the next dark lord.”

Magnus looked over at him. “That does sound crazy,” he said.

“I know,” said Kenichi, “but the cat keeps sending me from one place to the next. I don't begin to understand it, but I'm some sort of hero meant to defeat the dark lords. I have no idea how many I have to defeat, maybe all of them, but it's just something that's happened to me. Believe me, Marumi, I'd rather be back home in my own world, where you're a barista, and I'm trying my hardest to impress you, but you seem like you're really hard to impress, so I keep trying harder, but I think the only way to get there is to get through this, so I have to kill Scherzo and try to reach the end.” He took a breath.

“Maybe I hit him a bit too hard,” said Magnus.

Marumi crossed her arms. “I can't let you do that, Kenichi,” she said.

“Why not?” He said, straining against the ropes. “Because he's your dad? Because Ixchelaraña was your mom? Because they didn't let you into the Valeblade because they didn't want another dark lord to graduate?”

She leaned back, tried to make sense of what he had said and tried to weigh whether or not she should be hurt by any of it. “No,” she said. “Because Scherzo will consume you.”

“What?” said Kenichi.

“The Great Concert isn't what everybody believes it to be. All the top music students get selected, they all take part, they all play their hearts and souls out, and Scherzo feeds on that, leaving only empty withered husks. Then he makes up a bunch of letters of acceptance to various orchestras and studios and such, and gives those to Arclume, who doesn't seem to think anything is amiss. If you would have played in the Great Concert, you too would have been consumed.”

“Wait,” said Kenichi. “How long have I been out?”

“A few hours,” said Magnus.

“I have to stop Scherzo!” he said, pulling at his binds.

Marumi looked at the others. Magnus shrugged. “He probably can't do much harm now,” she said. It was unclear if she meant Kenichi or Scherzo. She untied him. “If you're going to insist on defeating Scherzo,” she said. “Just know that he's at his most powerful right now. Don't do anything too stupid.”

“I won't,” Kenichi said. He picked up his guitar case. “I didn't realize she was your mom when I killed her on the moon.” he said as he headed out through the door. Then he peeked his head back into the door. “Well, helped you kill her.” He shrugged then ran out.

He made his way down the halls toward the auditorium. There was a big sign on the door. DO NOT ENTER. GREAT CONCERT IN PROGRESS. He didn't hear any music, so he gave the door a pull. He stepped in through the crack, pulling his guitar case after him. The stage was lit by ghostlights, and in each chair was a student he recognized: Donatella, Seraphina, Cardigan, Cowlick, the others who he hadn't had a chance to give nicknames to in his head. They all held their instruments, and all sat still. From a distance, they just looked like they were sleeping, but as he got closer, walking down the center aisle, he noticed that they looked like they had been mummified. Their skin was dry, and their eyes empty. Their mouths were open, slack-jawed, and their hands gripped at their instruments like animal claws.

He stepped onto stage. Seraphina, the cat purse still around her shoulder, its purple glass eyes staring at him accusingly, still had her bow against the cello, as if she were mid-note. He recalled the times they practiced together, and his throat gave a slight rise when he realized that she would never play another note again.

Then Scherzo stepped onto the stage from the wings. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, leaving a silvery smear upon the fabric. He noticed Kenichi. “I was wondering why you didn't show up,” he said. “Still, the show had to go on.”

Kenichi leveled his hand at Scherzo and pointed. “I challenge you, Alonso Scherzo, as head of Symphonics, to a duel.”

Calliope and Cutwell stepped into the auditorium, Cutwell carrying a sword. Calliope took the sword from Cutwell and sliced the stitches along her mouth. “It's long past time, too, Alonso,” she said, stretching her lips in ways she had been forbidden from doing so for some time.

Scherzo looked at the other heads. He narrowed his eyes. “I see I have no sympathy,” he said. He looked at Kenichi. “Very well. But if I defeat you, I get your essence, as I've gotten the essence of all the other students here.” He waved his hand to indicate the mummified corpses of all the participants in the Great Concert.

Kenichi looked once more at Seraphina. Though she was often selfish, and an opportunist, she was an accomplished cellist. The other students were accomplished players of their own instruments. It gave him a tinge of sadness to realize that none of them would ever play again, that nobody would ever hear the sounds they generated from their instruments, to listen to the music that they once played. Only memories and recordings remained of their talent.

Kenichi set his guitar case down and pulled Drowsysword from within. He adjusted the strap, adjusted the tuning knobs, felt the frets and strings beneath his fingertips. He looked at Scherzo who was doing the same to his violin.

The other heads took seats in the front. Scherzo finished tuning his violin and rosining up his bow. He looked at Kenichi. “Are you ready?”

Kenichi nodded. He started playing his guitar, calling forth music from deep within its core. The music drifted up from the guitar like a specter, like the ghost bubbles coming from the instruments of the rabbits in the paintings outside this room. As he played, Scherzo joined in with his own song. The two songs intertwined, at times having an argument, and at other times, were in perfect harmony. As Kenichi played, he felt the tug at his soul, and as he intensified his playing, he felt as if he were tugging back. It was a struggle, with give and take, push and pull, and in the brief moments he wasn't intently focused on his music, he saw Scherzo with a similar struggle. The other two department heads sat and watched silently.

As the two played, their essences poured forth from them, hovering in the air side by side, bobbing up and down. An old fashioned scale seemed to materialize in the air, balancing the spirit of the two musicians against one another. The scale tipped, ever so slightly, toward Scherzo. He smiled a hungry smile.

Just then, the doors to the auditorium burst open. Kenichi, Scherzo, Calliope, and Cutwell all looked to see who the intruder was. It was Marumi. She stood there, still in her apron and toque, eyes wide, looking from Kenichi to Scherzo. “You idiot,” she said. It wasn't clear to whom she was addressing.

“Marumi,” whispered Scherzo. “Why are you here?”

Kenichi thought the exact same thing.

Marumi ignored both the explicit and implicit questions. She looked at the scale in the middle of the room holding the essence of both contenders. She looked from Scherzo to Kenichi. Then, holding up her hand, she nudged something that only she could see to one side. “I'm sorry,” she said in a soft voice that resonated through the auditorium.

The scale shifted, this time in Kenichi's favor. He looked at Scherzo, who was now looking more wispy and wraithlike. The essence was falling off the upturned scales, and the whirls swirled toward Kenichi, filling him with life. He saw flashes of memories of all the souls that Scherzo had consumed: someone practicing late into the night, trying to get the notes perfect; someone pulling the stuffing out of a toy, sewing the tail to the base of the neck to make a purse; someone writing Kenichi's name with hearts and stars; someone writing Kenichi's names with daggers and thunderbolts. The memories filled him, almost made him fall backwards, almost made him sick, as if he had eaten too much cake and ice cream. His head spun. He looked, saw Scherzo, barely a walking skeleton.

The head of symphonics, a wraith now, hissed. He flicked his wrist and his violin and bow turned into a bow and arrow. With the last of his strength, he pulled back on the bow and fired the arrow directly at Kenichi.

Kenichi felt the thud of the arrow hit him somewhere deep inside. Much like Kigara's stiletto, it pierced his heart, but there were no angels, cyborg or otherwise, to save him this time. He finally lost his balance, fell to the stage. Scherzo blew away in a puff of dust and smoke. Calliope and Cutwell sat there, stunned, not expecting this outcome. Kenichi's vision blurred. Marumi shouted something, but it sounded muffled, a million miles away. She ran down the aisle. Kenichi rolled his head. He saw the cat purse, Seraphina's mummified hand resting across the head. The purple glass eyes stared at him. He felt Marumi's footsteps climb the stairs to the stage, but everything faded to black before he could tell if it was to him that she came, or Scherzo.

Somewhere, a curtain fell. Perhaps the viewers applauded. Kenichi wasn't sure if this was just a near death hallucination. Either way, in the darkness, he felt cold and alone. He wanted to say her name one last time, but for some reason, he couldn't.