Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ For You I Play ❯ For You I Play ( One-Shot )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

For you I play

“If you cry for a lost one, it is not you who would hurt the most from your own sobs, but the one that was lost in heaven watching upon you would suffer the tears.”
Cary Chin

Part One: Learning to Love

"Now when you bow your hand tilts too far to the bridged so you must- Quatre! Are you paying attention?!" Screamed my instructor. Though, all I could hear was the wonderful sounds of nature as I stared out into the sky through the window. "Can we start practice tomorrow? Really, I don’t feel up to playing right now." Giving a smile at the 46 year old woman while I showed her to the door. "Very well. We shall start first thing in the morning then." As soon as the door was shut I sighed in relief then slid my back against the tall door.

My name is Quatre Raberba Winner, I am the son of a very wealthy man. Father owns the largest company in all of Asia. I; a young man at the age of 15, am a musician of the violin. This choice was not made by me, but by my mother. Violins have my resentment.

"Mother?" Gently knocking on the door to the office. "Come in, dear!" Poking my head into the room I wanted to tell her about the private teacher. "Mother I want to talk to you about my-"
"Oh dear! I wasn’t sure how I would break this to you. But this is really my opinion of what I think, I think that your instructor is.."
"That was exactly what I wanted to talk to you about."
"How rude it is to interrupt me when I’m speaking! Now I wanted to say that your instructor is a well and professional women of the art of violin. I do say that she’s been tutoring you since.... Since I can remember. Don’t you think she’s starting to lose her edge in skill? So I think that we should call up and find a new instructor. What do you think?"

"That is very pleasant but I was thinking of-"
The intercom-phone rang on Mother’s desk before I could finish my sentence.
"Hold on a minute, dear." She picked the phone up and spoke to the other line, the conversation ended shortly. Then a short silence was in order after she hung up but immediately broken by a knock.

"Mrs. Winner?" A petite voice was heard behind the door. Such a tiny voice it was, I barely caught it. "Come in my dear." The door creaked open and there a young face popped up then her whole body arrived fully through the door. Carefully I studied the young figure as she and my mother chatted. This girl had long blond hair down to the middle of her back. With a face naturally pale, and eyes that were rather large; filled with light blue to match her innocent smile. Slim but not too skinny but just perfect for a young woman her age. I found that she was beauty at its fullest.

"Quatre. This is Jane Croft, your new violin instructor. She’s around your age and she already has the highest degree in the violin! A very talented violinist, I’ve heard her play and it’s extraordinary!" At this Jane blushed modestly but said nothing. "Now Quatre, I want you to learn all you can from Miss Croft, o.k. dear? But before we start didn’t you want to say something before Miss Croft arrived?”

I wanted my mother to stop pushing me into learning anymore from "professionals" but when I saw Jane there was nothing more to say, my mouth wouldn’t work so I just nodded. "O.k. then. You two go and start now, run along. I’ve got work to do now that this is settled." Making a motion with her hands as if we were still children, shooing us off.

Eagerly, I picked the violin up and I wasn’t as great as I thought I was. Utterly embarrassed I was, though she didn’t laugh like Mrs. Gram did when I made a mistake. That crackle always sent shivers up my spine. Instead, she picked up her own violin and looked at the sheet. "This is a very difficult piece, why don‘t you listen to the rhythm." First, she toned her instrument, followed by a fiddle. Jane started to play, I was unable to detect the tiniest trace of a mistake in her playing. She made it sound like she’s been playing the piece her whole life.

"Now why don’t you try and see what you need work on, ok?"
"Uh... Sure. So it’s like this?" I began to play my best but it was nothing compared to Jane’s. It was pretty close I suppose. Clapping her hands together, creating a small applause, I bowed my head and thanked her for listening.

Part two: The Pains Of Love

A year past by and my feelings for Jane grew stronger, along with my attachment. But I never told her how I felt, no comfort came to me in telling her. Though I sometimes wonder… Is this how it feels like when you‘re in love?

"I was chosen for a solo at the World National Theatre and I was wondering if you would come and see me perform. If you’re able to that’d be great but if not that’s fine, I don’t want to ruin your busy schedule." My heart raced as she spoke every word clear and meaningful.

The nights went by quickly so did the days. Each drawing the day closer, my excitement grew each day that passed. Finally the day arrived. As the limo pulled up to the side of the entrance reporters stormed in and surrounded me asking questions. "Now, Mister Quatre Raberba Winner, what would a man like you be doing at a place like this?"
"This is the World National Theatre, right? So I’ve come to watch Ms. Jane Croft perform. What else would I be here for?"

With the assistance of a security guard I managed to make my way through. Tidying up my tie, I straightened out my suit. The room was packed with people. While the commotions started settling down I made my way towards the door of The Jane Croft Performance. Gently, I pushed the door open and a gush of music sprang to my ears, though it was a band and not a soloist. A man tapped me on the shoulder. "Sir. Are you Mister Quatre?"
"Yes. I am."

"Ms. Jane wanted you to be here, and just in case you didn’t find a seat, she reserved a spot for you in the front row. The first chair to your right will be your seat." He motioned for me. I began towards that chair Jane kindly reserved for me, happiness filled me inside. The band song ended, and the main part of the entire thing was about to begin. My heart nearly stopped as she walked up to the stand of music that she was about to perform, she was gorgeous.

Her music made the room float. Everything was slowing down almost like a dream even. Closing my eyes I could still see her playing, I tried not to drown myself in her beauty but I couldn’t help it. This song! It’s the song I tried to play on the first day! Ending the song better than anyone else, I stood up applauding, sticking out in the crowd. Jane’s chest was moving up and down. "I’d like to dedicate that song to a special someone that I care for very much." At heart I knew she was talking about me.

Suddenly, a high pitched scream came from outside of the theatre. "Someone! Someone please help m-" A gun fired before she could finish. The voice said enough for all of us to go into panic. Few of the security men ran outside to investigate. But none of them came back, at least not alive.

"Stick it em folks! Not ye’s move! Or we‘ll blow ye‘s lil heads right off the shoulders of yours!" Three of them snickered their western accent. When I risked a glance up at Jane, I didn’t see any fear in her eyes, she didn‘t seem the least bit worried about her life. Pondering on to no avail for no answer came to mind why she wasn‘t scared. Having her head high as if in triumph. Roughly, I was pushed against the wall with a gun at my head, pockets were searched, my wallet was taken out. “Boss! I think we hit the jackpot! These rich ol geezers!”

Glaring, Jane yelled, “for the benefit of you and the others leave immediately!“ The man only narrowed his eyes, “ye can’t tell me’s what to do!“ He triggered his gun at the direct position, where even a single dagger can take the life of any human. Still standing she spat blood out of her small mouth as her hand held the wound.

Everything was slow all of a sudden as her unsteady feet wobbled. Unable to support her anymore she fell off the stage. Head first, smashing into the cement floor. Her almost lifeless body laid there facing down at the floor. The blood oozed out underneath her. There on her back was a hole filled with blood. Running to her side I yelled her name. Holding her growing cold body. I stared straight into her eyes and looking into her soul. Still I couldn’t detected the slightest fear in her eyes.

"Q-Quatre... For-forgive me. I can’t continue in your violin lessons." She took a deep breath but instead she chocked out blood. "NO!! Don’t say things like that! You’ll come to all my lessons, I paid you too much for you to turn back!" Although I knew it wasn‘t the best time for teasing I needed to see her smile just one last time. Able to smile weakly, I spoke. "I love you."

Smiling she turned slightly to face me. "I’m sorry. But I love you too.. Very much." Her hand came up to my cheek, but in turn it fell right after brushing the side of my face. Jane’s face fell to the side as her hand made a thud on the hard ground, which almost indeed signaled her life’s end.
Specialists placed her on a stretcher and into an ambulance. Before I could blink all these nurses were surrounding me, asking questions. I couldn’t take it anymore. It was hard enough to lose someone like Jane but to be questioned about it was just too much.

Part Three: Wounds Healed, But Scar Still Remains

I at home I thought things to myself. “We couldn’t save her….” The voice echoed in my mind, each word hurt like a thousand daggers, still the doctor’s voice repeated.. These things happen, I need to get over it. Still the truth was too much. Telling myself to face the facts, but my heart kept running from it.

She died.. I just couldn’t take it. I often lied to myself saying that she’s just late to our lessons. So I’d just sit there holding my violin and waiting. Sometimes I waited for hours. But I knew that she wouldn’t come. But I just kept running and running. The maids and butlers tried to give me comfort. Or try to draw me out of it.

But I just smiled warmly and said, “no need to worry. She’s only late, she’ll come. I hear traffic is bad these days.” But inside I knew, I knew all too well. Eventually, all of them gave up and went on with their lives. While I just sat there living in the past, waiting and waiting…..

I dialed her cell phone number five times a day usually. But the same thing would happen every time I called, it just kept ringing and ringing. From time to time the women would say it’s disconnected or no longer in service.

The days seem longer and longer each day, everyday dragged for eternities. My mother would holler at me and keep telling me the things I didn’t want to hear most. When that happens the butler or maid would sometimes remind me of the things I don’t want to know or be reminded of.

At night I would think about the happy times we had together and how we could never share and do the things we did anymore.

A thought came through my mind, I remember when I asked her about her dreams. Jane only told me she wanted one of her students to be recognized for his/her skill in playing the violin.

Smiling to myself. I’m not going to run, can’t keep running for the rest of my life. Might as well except it, making the best of it. For the farther I run the more painful it hurts, memories hurt too much. But I want to make her happy, and I will…………………

A few years have passed by.
At the cemetery I looked down at the grave of which would forever hold my beloved. The flowers in my hand was a small baring of which to show my loss. For once I could come into this cemetery and stand before Jane’s tombstone and not have my eyes glisten. I’ve cried so much for, but now… I can’t cry anymore, because I knew it was not me who would always be hurting from my tears but the angel in heaven looking down upon me would shed the pain.

Walking out of the beautiful beds of which was lost from this lifetime lies within a voice sprang my ears, as I turned I saw the possessor of the voice. "Mommy! Look! Isn’t that guy the one on T.V. that plays that thing that makes a pretty sound?"
"Yes dear, he is. His name is Quatre Winner honey, why don‘t you go say hi to him. He might be kind enough to give you his signature!" The little girl looked about 7 years old, her mother gave her a piece of paper and pen, her pigtails bouncing as she ran. The innocent smile reminded me of the one I loved.

Signing the paper with pleasure, she hopped back to her mother with a joyful cry. Using my hand to shadow my eyes from the sun as I looked up to see that one person I longed to hold. “That was satisfying enough for me. I wonder if it’s satisfying enough for you Jane..”