Author's Note:

You thought I was dead? Well too bad, I've been composing stuff. :p

For me, this fic is a guilty pleasure to indulge my writing. I've got the whole thing planned out, though the execution may be suspect.

Before you ask, PI/TLCW is dead. Plans are pretty dead in the water as well for that.

Few warnings I guess for future stuff if I ever finish this: there may/will be/are descriptions of child abuse, depression, and assorted tangents regarding music.

For this chapter: a warning for description of classical music.

Scroll down to the end notes for a list of recommended listening for this chapter - pieces specifically played/referenced in a chapter are marked with bold + italics.

Hope y'all enjoy.

Chaconne

Chapter 1: Twenty-Four

A spotlight extended its reach into the murky realm of the dimly-lit stage. Filling everything in sight with a warm glow, it revealed the small orchestra present within.

Its row of violas matched the slow ascent of the baton in front of them. Their more numerous counterparts to the opposite wing soon followed, mere milliseconds shorter, with the exception of their section's leaders.

All of them held their instruments with and without tension - to variant degrees, with divergent lessons learned, values taught, and methods used. So too did the cellos who were fortunate to not contend with balance upon their shoulders.

Cello bows readied, in parallel with the basses, with all their instruments against themselves - connected to the earth itself via end pins. It was an unfortunate fact of nature that larger string instruments such as their own would require something to maintain stability and prevent the frequently wooden floors of concert halls from being punctured repeatedly towards the middle of stage left, but it was their own reality to contend with.

As the baton descended, slid, and rose into a triangulate pattern, the violins and violas began to pluck quiet, single tones in unison and in response to each other - an introduction. The consequent phrase was joined by an assertive, flowing statement from the first violins with aggressive chords resulting from the combined forces of the second violins and violas - immediately following was a sudden transformation of the entire orchestra into a more intimate, subdued sound.

The orchestra sighed, dying away into motes of silence.

The eyes of the audience had their gazes caught by the soloist directly in front of the accompaniment. Her hair resembled a tapestry of darkened threads made of the spaces between stars - absolute in its unwavering expression, cold and unfeeling as it was in its stark darkness.

From that void, from every part of her own darkness, she created the stars themselves.

A slow lament, crying out from the depths of her soul into her fingers and into the world around her. Upon her instrument, she deigned to ask her companions:

"Why?"

An act of parts, like characters in a play. Grief and sorrow soon gave way to lush melodies, both interspersed with elements of its composer's virtuosity that made many who heard him question if he had made a pact with devil.

The man with Marfan's syndrome had never heard of such a thing, yet he decided to play along.

Echoes of his hands rang out in the final movement of the piece - a set of variations based around a playful theme. Glissando and upper octave notation in the theme and its first variation taxed the instrument to its very limits.

Tonalities shifted in the second variation with a switch to the theme's minor key. The dark sorrow of the opening movement made a reprise, though it truly embraced its role as an interlude between its preceding variations.

Arpeggios comprised the third variation. Every string was crossed, touched, and rapidly departed in mere instants. To the eyes of an onlooker, it was magic.

Soon, the conclusion of the piece had been reached, as both the soloist and the orchestra sprinted to a spirited and thrilling end.

The audience began to clap - enthusiasts and connoisseurs of classical music, parents of the performers, and the general public alike. A round of applause came - each entrance disparate, but slowly unifying the crowd's reserved commendment with the orchestra's subtle percussive tapping - until the thunderous choir slowly died away.

As the soloist bowed, the spotlights returned the stage to a land of dimly-lit shadows. The soloist began to return to their section.

You did great.

Kana mouthed her words before rising from among the violins.

Now…

The spotlight dawned upon Kana Hitori alone, with a violin and bow in her hands.

A final chord rang out with all the bravado that Kana could muster. The piece had been among the man with Marfan's most recognizeable, if not his most famous. It was the last exercise of a grueling set of pieces that challenged the best violinists the world had ever seen.

It revolved around a simple theme - a catchy, though comparatively simple statement - that the devilish one had transformed into a set of variations. Each variation encapsulated the use of the most virtuosic techniques that its composer had at his disposal. Some even synthesized multiple techniques into a single variation that made legends strain under its demands.

Kana finally felt her heartbeat, pounding left and right without hesitation or delay. Adrenaline coursed through her body as she bowed, then faced her audience with the same thunderous applause that they had given to the previous soloist.

The lights began to gently brighten, its patrons basking in their previously muted light beginning to leave.

"Hey, Kana."

Kana turned around in her daze to see the violist she had earlier complimented.

"Yuki!"

Yuki stepped carefully but deliberately, stopping in front of her fellow soloist. "You did excellent, Kana. I was impressed that you played so well."

"I'm more impressed at how you did! It's hard imagining that you were able to play that so well! You really put a lot of emotion into that, Yuki!"

Both of the returned each other's smiles.

"Hey, you two!"

Kana and Yuki turned their eyes to see their mutual friend.

"Isako!" Kana beamed.

"Kinushi-san. It's a pleasure to see you here." A curt bow, or at least the closest she could come to making one while holding her viola and bow, came from Yuki. "Thank you for coming to our concert."

"Same for you two, and it was no problem. Both of you did great."

Isako paused, then continued. "You know I don't understand music too well, but I can respect your dedication."

A silent thumbs-up accompanied by a look of encouragement emboldened the two musicians.

"Thanks, Isako!"

"Thank you."

The three engaged in further talk - moving in and out of Kana's frantic schedule for the afternoon leading up to the performance, Yuki being stuck in traffic trying to get to the Civic Center, and Isako's encounter with a strange white cat.

—

"...so I didn't have a lot of time to get home. That's when I realized I forgot my phone..."

"Really?"

"...so I had to run back to get it…"

—

"...I was at the intersection near my house and there was someone who wouldn't move…"

"That sucks."

—

"...it was like…"

"Like?"

Isako gave thought for a second, trying to find the right words to say.

"...you know those magical girl anime? Where there's a cute mascot or something?"

"I'm sorry, I don't watch TV." Kana responded, slightly regretful.

"Neither do I." Yuki nodded.

"Mm. Anyways, it's like the cat's talking inside my head and asking - "Do you want to be a magical girl?" - or something like that."

Yuki gave her brief look, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"That sounds suspicious. Are you sure you're OK, Kinushi-san?"

"I'm just fine!"

"Do you need a focus test? Like, I ask 'how many fingers am I holding up', except we hope that you don't answer 'vanilla' or something." Kana teased.

"No!"

Isako gave a half-hearted protest to the two's prodding. The trio chuckled for a bit, to varying degrees, before continuing on with their conversations.

After a little while, the trio found their debate interjected in with a high voice from the side of the stage.

"Onee-chan!"

The trio turned to see another girl appear. Kana's eyes widened briefly, recognizing the voice.

"Shuuko-chan!"

Shuuko ran up to embrace Kana as Yuki and Isako looked at the two.

"I didn't know you had a little sister, Kana."

"That's a new one for me, too."

"Oh, quiet you!" Kana responded with mock indignation. "Well…"

She tailed off as Shuuko looked at Isako and Yuki innocently.

"Onee-chan is onee-chan. Onee-chan is Shuuko's onee-chan."

Isako and Yuki gave each other identical gazes, before looking at Kana.

"I teach her violin on Saturdays." Kana explained.

Yuki nodded. "Ah, that makes sense."

Isako pondered for a second.

"So that explains why you're always busy on Saturday?"

"Well, it's part of it." Kana began to elaborate. "Saturday has always the day I practice a lot. I'm either practicing, at a competition, or helping to teach other kids."

"I see." Isako nodded.

"Shuuko was impressed by onee-chan's violin today!"

The topic pivoted once more to that of the performance.

"Really? Thank you, Shuuko-chan." Kana patted her head softly.

"Well, I should be going. Tomorrow is Monday and I have a test tomorrow."

Yuki began to walk off the stage, waving to the trio, before positioning towards Kana.

"You did a fine job, Kana. I hope I see you tomorrow after school."

"Bye, Yuki!"

Kana and Isako talked for a little while longer as Shuuko tried playing Kana's violin. A fairly rough, though competent rendition of a humoresque, rang through the now mostly-empty concert hall.

Finally, Shuuko returned the violin, saying goodbye, leaving Kana and Isako alone.

The two began to walk off-stage towards where Kana's case was, as Isako said her farewells.

"See you tomorrow!"

"Bye!"

Kana smiled sadly as the door began to close, packing away her violin.

Soon, she departed as well, en route to the hospital.

Kurikae General Hospital was, for lack of a better word, old.

It wasn't old, at least under the connotation of being old, crumbling, and architecturally unsound. Rather, while the interiors of its buildings were periodically updated and refitted to fit more modern standards - once in the 1970s, another in the 1980s, and most recently, in the prosperous years between the dawn of the 1990s and the tumultuous downturn of the economy in its middle years - it held a general aura of weathered condition that stood the test of time.

To its north, numerous apartment complexes untouched by renovation stood, tall in their collective glory. The fever pitch of cheap credit left its mark, despite its sparse occupancy in its current state.

To the south, an abandoned graveyard of industry. Warehouses untouched for decades, half-constructed buildings more resembling grey-tinted skeletons of metal, and a pervasive sense of emptiness.

Kurikae had miraculously managed to weather the storm, but the damage had been done. While other cities such as Mitakihara had experienced near-miraculous recoveries and even entered a new period of growth, Kurikae's own rise had been practically extinguished by the economic disaster.

Residents began to leave. Crime became a sore issue, especially towards the abandoned south. The city managed to alleviate many of the new issues that arose, but found itself unable to maintain the condition of its previous state.

For that reason, it could only attempt to hope to hold onto its past, even as the city slowly recovered. Kurikae's dedicated population tried to protect as much as it could, but even with everything it could do, the relics of its halcyon years began to stagnate.

Dated was the hospital as Kana Hitori entered on a midsummer night.

There were screams coming from the ward. Kana knew its origin all too well, as she opened the doors.

The subsequent rooms lied unused, empty, their lights silenced. Only the room to the right had wisps of light emerging from a closed door.

"Anesthesia again?"

"It looks like it."

Murmurs that Kana could barely make out floated through the dry interior air.

Slowly, the various nurses and staff began to filter out, one by one. Soon, Kana could only hear a single voice, hoarse and raspy, speaking in the air.

She began to walk down the hall, hands trembling with her violin case in her hands. The screams lingered on her mind, before being forcefully dispelled. The lone figure that she had heard finally began to leave.

It was a foreign, yet familiar figure to Kana - she faintly recalled seeing him as a child once or twice, only for her to be whisked away soon afterwards.

He saw Kana, looked at her case, smiled sadly, and walked away.

In his eyes were strains of pity.

Their subject remained unclear.

"Mm…"

Kana rustled in the uncomfortable chair, cloaked in blankets and everything else she could muster. The weather outside was quite pleasant, yet the temperature set inside was cool to the point of being unbearable.

The hard chair didn't help matters to the sleep-deprived Kana.

At least she didn't have to go to school today.

You can make her feel better.

A white cat stared at her.

A white cat? It was definitely white, but Kana couldn't tell in her stupor.

Small, red eyes looked at her with something that resembled a smile. A tail, too?

"I'm dreaming, aren't I? This is your fault, Isako."

I am here.

"Wait, are you talking in my head?"

I am.

Kana sighed. I really am going crazy.

She rubbed her eyes. So, who are you exactly?

I am Kyubey.

And why are you here?

If you make a contract with me, I can grant you any wish.

Kana snifled. What kind of contract?

Become a magical girl.

She almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Sure, she hadn't watched TV for years, but she at least vaguely remember seeing an anime series or two about magical girls. It was surreal, and it was all Isako's fault.

Any wish?

Kana began to seriously consider Kyubey's words.

If you have the power, I can grant any wish. Kyubey paused as its tail waved around. And it seems that you have enough potential to grant your wish.

I'll think about-

Kana's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden series of beeps coming from the bedside beside her.

"...Mother?"

The moment her eyes awoke with sudden speed, she began to writhe in the hospital bed.

Kana tried to shield her eyes from the sight, only for her mother's voice to rise, with tortured drive behind it.

"Mother! Mother!"

It was too much to bear for Kana. It was one thing to cringe at the sound of someone in anguish - it was another for it to be paired with convulsions and writhing that shook Kana to her core.

"Mother!"

You can relieve her pain.

Kyubey's voice returned as Kana's hands began to shake.

You have the power in your hands.

Kana could nearly see Kyubey's face in the eye of her mind.

Make a contract and become a magical girl.

Kana clenched her fist - the screaming had reached an apex.

"I wish that I could eliminate my mother's pain!"

The room filled with light, concentrated around Kana's whole being.

Your wish has surpassed entropy.

EDIT (8/13/19): Fleshed out + fixed the hospital description; minor edits

The pieces being played are both Paganini pieces: Sonata for Grand Viola (a viola/string orchestra arrangement) and Caprice No. 24. I'm glad to have had personal experience on the Sonata (played in the accompaniment last year in orchestra), but Caprice No. 24 is the famous one. You may recognize it as the theme to Rachmaninoff's Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini or other sets of theme and variations using the theme.

Speaking of the Caprice, it is the namesake of this chapter. 'Twenty-Four' as a chapter title sounds nice I guess.

RECOMMENDED LISTENING:

Sonata for Grand Viola - N. Paganini

Caprice No. 24 - N. Paganini

I may be able to answer questions regarding clarification, and I'm open for feedback. Updates will either be very quick or very slow.

Thank you very much for reading.