“Eto…!”
Takamatsu Tomori, who was naturally afraid of strangers, was startled by the oppressive atmosphere.
She waved her hands in a panic while eagerly trying to explain on behalf of Kiyotaka, but she started stuttering from excessive tension:
“N-No, it’s not like that…
Ayanokoji-kun is, is…”
Compared to the flustered Takamatsu Tomori, Sakiko herself, who was being teased, was surprisingly calm.
She pouted slightly, acting affectionately spoiled in her tone: “Grandfather, please don’t make that kind of joke desuwa!”
“Ayanokoji-kun is a student at Shuchiin Academy.
He has great grades, understands music well, and can even play the piano.
We just wanted to exchange musical ideas together.
It’s not what you think!”
Hearing the three words “Shuchiin Academy”, Togawa Sadaharu shifted his gaze away from Sakiko’s face and re-examined Kiyotaka.
Being able to enter Shuchiin Academy, and bearing the surname Ayanokouji…
The image of an unpleasant politician appeared in his mind—someone who, once provoked, clung to you like a pesky plaster and could never be shaken off.
Togawa Sadaharu’s gaze quietly sharpened for a split second before quickly returning to normal.
“What is his academic ranking?” When he spoke again, his tone was devoid of emotion.
“Second place in the entire grade level,” Kiyotaka replied calmly.
“He missed first place by just one point,” Sakiko added from the side, a trace of inexplicable pride appearing in her tone that even she hadn’t noticed.
Togawa Sadaharu fell silent for a moment.
He gave Kiyotaka a deep look, then shifted his gaze back to Sakiko.
“It’s best if he’s not your boyfriend.
As the heir of the Toyokawa Family, you should keep a proper distance from those shady wild boys outside.
You must be cautious enough when choosing a partner.”
“Honestly, Grandfather…”
Without paying attention to Sakiko’s complaint, Togawa Sadaharu dropped this warning and lost interest in this conversation between the younger generation.
He strode forward, and the surrounding bodyguards immediately followed with well-trained movements.
As he passed by Kiyotaka, his pace didn’t pause at all.
The group quickly disappeared outside the entryway.
Accompanied by the muffled sound of a Maybach door closing, the courtyard corridor returned to silence.
Sakiko sighed helplessly, then turned to Kiyotaka with an apologetic smile: “Ayanokoji-kun, I’m sorry.
Grandfather…
said some strange things.”
“It’s fine,” Kiyotaka replied indifferently.
He quickly sorted through the recent confrontation and his takeaways in his mind.
Based on the supplementary information provided by that man and his on-site observations just now, he confirmed one thing once again:
Togawa Sadaharu held extreme dissatisfaction toward Sakiko’s mother Mizuho’s personally chosen husband back then—that is, Sakiko’s father,
Records showed that at the funeral where Mizuho ultimately passed away due to illness, Togawa Sadaharu openly reprimanded Togawa Kiyotsugu without any regard for the occasion, largely blaming his daughter’s death on this man’s “incompetence” in his words.
Therefore, he had an instinctive hostility and vigilance toward “any male that Sakiko came into contact with”.
This wasn’t directed at Kiyotaka personally, but rather at “anyone who might cause his granddaughter to repeat the same mistakes.”
However, this logic could also be used in reverse.
The more vigilant he was, the more it showed how much he cared about Sakiko, his only bloodline.
The more he cared about her, the easier it would be in the future to leverage Sakiko as a fulcrum to shake the entire Toyokawa Family.
“Let’s go, let’s go!”
Sakiko cheered herself up again, took Takamatsu Tomori’s hand, and waved to Kiyotaka at the same time: “Ayanokoji-kun, the piano room is over here!”
Pushing open the heavy soundproof doors of the piano room, the evening sunlight poured in from the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, dyeing the entire room in a layer of warm orange-red.
In the center of the room, a luxurious Steinway grand piano stood quietly, its black lacquer surface reflecting a soft luster.
Kiyotaka keenly noticed that on the upper right edge of the piano, there was placed a slightly worn yet extremely delicate, impeccably wiped red doll.
And when Sakiko entered the room and looked at the piano, her gaze went straight to that doll first thing.
Sakiko walked up to the piano and gently lifted the fallboard.
Her fingers brushed across the black and white keys without pressing them down.
She touched them gently, as if treating some precious treasure.
Then, she sat down.
Her posture was standard, and her hands hovered naturally above the keys.
“Yesterday, I only improvised a bit on Takamatsu Tomori’s “I Want to Be Human”.
Now, I want to play the full version for the two of you.”
As her words ended, the moment her fingers fell, her entire aura sublimated once again.
Sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling window onto her profile, coating her in a layer of dazzling halo.
The sound of the piano flowed through the room like clear spring water.
The young girl with blue twin-tails poured her love for the world, her expectations for the future, and the purest impulses of her heart into the melody without reservation.
The girl’s expression while playing was incomparably focused, her eyes sparkling with brightness and hope.
Every beating note seemed to be glowing.
Undeniable top-tier talent.
Kiyotaka evaluated inwardly.
This was a flower meticulously cultivated with lavish resources and ample love.
So beautiful that people couldn’t take their eyes off her.
This was different from what he had seen in the reference photos—the “perfect smile facing the world” put on just to cope with socialization.
This time, it was a smile from the bottom of her heart.
Simply because she played the music she loved, and someone was quietly and earnestly listening.
As the song ended, Sakiko stood up with a smile and looked at the two of them.
“Thank you.” Sakiko lifted her skirt hem and performed an elegant curtsy.
Then she hurried over to Kiyotaka, grabbed his wrist, brought him to the piano, and pushed him down onto the piano bench.
“It’s your turn, Ayanokoji-kun!
Let Takamatsu Tomori and me listen to the cry of your heart as well!”
The cry of the heart.
Kiyotaka pondered this word in his heart.
Is this how Sakiko understands music, or rather, how she understands the world?
Kiyotaka looked at the black and white keys in front of him.
His brain began to make rapid decisions: To what extent would it be most appropriate to showcase?
He needed to meet her expectations for a “soulmate” and leave an indelible impression on her in the short term, without appearing overly showy.
Ayanokouji slowly raised his hand.
The moment his fingers fell, what flowed out was a soothing and ethereal piece—
—Debussy’s “The Girl with the Flaxen Hair”.
Unlike Sakiko when she played, where her body slightly rose and fell and swayed, or her face showed the intoxicated expression of a performer,
Kiyotaka’s spine was held straight to a standard, and his fingers rose, fell, and leaped across the keys with precise accuracy.
The control of dynamics, the switching of pedals—everything was as standard as a textbook.
Gorgeous and perfect, without a single flaw.
When he pressed the final note and the lingering sound gradually dissipated in the piano room, both Takamatsu Tomori and Sakiko were dumbfounded.
Especially Sakiko; in those bright golden pupils of hers, tears were faintly shimmering at this moment.
The next second, she suddenly rushed forward, her fair hands directly cupping Kiyotaka’s right hand that had just left the keys.
“It’s simply unbelievable desuwa!
Ayanokoji-kun, your notes feel as if they fell directly into the bottom of my heart.
To be able to hear you play such a melody in person…
simply…”
The girl’s somewhat exaggerated yet completely genuine praise paused.
The tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes became even more intense, and she hurriedly reached out to wipe them away.
It wasn’t just pure adoration for art, nor was it just the emotion of having the softest part of her heart touched by the melody.
This piece had an irreplaceable meaning to Sakiko.
This piece was her late mother’s favorite song, and it was also the first song Sakiko fully learned and played for her.
It was the most sacred melody in Sakiko’s heart.
Yet the boy before her, whom she had known for less than three hours, happened to choose this exact song on his very first play.
Simply…
just like fate!