Chapter Text
Nene couldn’t hear the music. That was something that she often said whenever she spoke of her father’s death. She finds it so strange that she remembers so many details. The smell of sick and death. The feeling of despair. The cold and clammy hand that she held until it went limp. But what she remembers most was that her mother’s music box was playing, the dancer inside spinning, and yet, there was no music. There was no sound but her own grieving sobs.
She remembered her father’s funeral the same. Every detail was so immaculate. The way that the clouds were grey and heavy but never rained. The sea of black that seemed to fill the church. The murmurs of condolences and whispering of prayers filled her ears. But she couldn’t hear the mournful music that was playing. She saw the violins moving but no sound. People opened their mouths but all she heard was silence.
Nene couldn’t hear the music for days.
When she moved to the conservatory and studied dance she can recall watching the ballet dancers moving to nothing.
She felt the world had played a cruel joke on her.
Her father promised her. He promised that once he was gone, he would send her the Angel of Music. And while she thought it a lovely concept at best and a strange superstition at worst, she never imagined that instead the Angel would be cruel enough to take it away from her.
So she sang.
It was the first thing she could hear. She could hear her own voice. And soon, she could hear more music. Eventually she would hear music without any playing. That was when she realized that singing was her calling.
***
That was years ago.
Nene still loved to sing, that was no question. But childish dreams of being center stage have soon softened into wishful thinking that she often shares with her best friend Aoi. And while the ballet dancer reassured her that she shouldn’t give up on her dreams, it was clear that her kind words were just that. Kind words.
Nene spent more of her time doing other things now. As she reached adulthood, she soon began to work. The conservatory was a direct pipeline to the opera house. She knew the Opera Populaire well now. Her life was just a string of practices that often led to a performance.
She was a chorus girl.
It was far more exciting work than she assumed it would be. Her work was rather accident prone.
Strange occurrences would happen with no real rhyme or reason. Or at least that was what it seemed. Sakura, her ballet teacher, spoke about a phantom. A ghost that appreciates good performance. And while Aoi took to that story like a moth to a flame, Nene was sure that it was just slip ups from the tech crew.
But that aside, she enjoys performing and maybe this was as far as she was meant to go.
She was content. As long as she could still hear the music.
Her contentment didn’t last as long as she hoped.
***
Nene had fallen in love. It was something that she had not prepared for but she did. She fell in love with a handsome audience member. He always sat in the same seat. The second row, fourth seat to the left. He looked just like princes she would read about in fairytale books. Tall, handsome, absolutely her type.
Her heart was in absolute knots after every performance. Everytime people would go out and meet the cast, Nene would see him and quickly run into her dressing room where she would remain until Aoi came back to console her.
Of course, Aoi’s brand of consoling came with light teasing.
“You realize that if you keep this up, this will never go anywhere Nene.” Aoi insisted after a couple months of this nonsense. She was brushing Nene’s silver locks until they shined as she always did when Nene seemed in distress.
“Oh but Aoi, everytime I try I somehow end up right here.” Nene lamented.
“Yes, and right here you’ll remain while he courts somebody else, gets married, and eventually takes his own kids to the opera. And you’ll be here, crying to me about missed opportunities until we are well in our 40’s.” Aoi sighed softly.
“No, we won’t.” Nene pouted.
“Yes, of course Miss Yashiro. I won’t be here because I would have met a handsome man who I was not afraid to talk to and have a family of my own.” Aoi said sadly. “And I will tell stories to my own daughters about a spinster I once knew who worked with in my opera days-“
“Aoi!” Nene screeched, turning to face her. “Are you really going to leave me to start your own family?”
“I can’t speak for the future, but are you willing to find out?” Aoi asked. She batted her violet eyes innocently.
“You’re right.” Nene sighed. “I guess, I’ll confess next time I see him.”
“Well, there we go. But if I find you here, whining about how he slipped away, you realize you will never live that down.” Aoi said as she slipped on her coat.
“Because I’ll regret it?”
“Because I won’t let you.” Aoi said simply. Nene was horrified but Aoi simply giggled.
Nene said nothing but they both knew that Aoi was serious. Though as they left, she thought to herself what were the odds he would come the next day. Who would come to the same opera twice in a row?
He would. Of course, he would.
Nene nearly gasped when she realized what was to come. He was there in the same seat. She felt sick. Aoi didn’t help much when she gave her a wink before going on stage or made quiet suggestive comments while they were in the wings. Nene loved her friend dearly but this was unbearable.
How could this have happened? Was this his favorite opera? Or maybe the universe was really cold and unforgiving and insisted that she must make a fool of herself that day.
Either way Nene wished for the opera house to come down on her as she took her final bow.
It didn’t. Nene had no choice to face the music.
“By the way, I spoke to Monsieur Mysterious Stranger today.” Aoi said as they went to meet their guests.
“Aoi, when-“
“I have my ways,” she winked, “he’s waiting for you outside.”
“But-“
“For the rest of our natural lives, Nene.” Aoi’s smile seemed plastered on her face at this point. Aoi would indeed bring this up for as long as they lived if she didn’t go. “Alright, Nene! I believe in you!”
And just like that Aoi pushed her outside.
Nene held her arms out in an attempt to keep her balance. Then she turned her head to see that he was there.
Nene felt her heart beat erratically in her chest. She could do this. It’ll be fine. She can ask him out for dinner. They can get to know each other. And then eventually he’ll ask her to marry him. Then they could live together in a little cottage in the countryside. They could raise children who love music just as much as they did. And-
“Excuse me, Mademoiselle. Are you the chorus girl, Miss Akane was talking about?”
She snapped out of her delusions. There he was all tall and handsome.
She nodded slowly. She could feel her face flushing. This was it. She just needed to ask him to go to dinner with her and everything would be set in motion.
She opened her mouth but he spoke first.
“Sorry, but I’m not interested.”
She felt her breath get caught in her throat.
“Listen, I honestly thought I’d be meeting Miss Akane here. I barely remember you from the opera. It’s not as if you’re the Prima or anything. You’re just a chorus girl and while I’m sure I’d make a few exceptions,” His face twisted into what Nene could have sworn was a small smile. “I’m not into thick radish legs.”
Radish legs?
He hates... her legs?
He said something else but she wasn’t listening. He then left her standing there. Thinking about her radish legs.
She walked to the dressing room like an automaton. The only thing going through her head were the words “radish legs” on repeat.
She had just finished dressing out of her costume when it fully settled in. She was rejected without much hesitation. She didn’t get to say a single thing to defend herself. It was so, so embarrassing.
Of course, he noticed her stupid fat ankles. It’s the first thing they notice. She was so stupid for even thinking to go ahead with the idea. She always lets herself get carried away with stupid daydreams.
Before she could even stop herself, she cried. She cried like a little school girl. She was lucky there was nobody to see her.
“Nene, you’ll never guess who I-“ She turned to see Aoi had just entered. “Oh no.”
Aoi rushed to her side letting her cry in her chest. Aoi stroked her hair as she allowed Nene to wail out her frustrations. Once she calmed down, she questioned her.
“Nene, what on earth happened?” Aoi asked, eyes wide.
“He said that he thought he was going to meet with you and, and...he wasn’t interested because,” Nene’s gaze lowered to the floor, as tears began to well up in her eyes. “I’m not Prima and j-just a chorus girl.”
“Oh that’s absolutely horrible Nene.” Aoi wrapped her arms around her again. “That’s such a stupid reason! You were too good for him anyways.”
“He also said that, that, he’s not into r-radish legs.” She whimpered.
“Radish legs?” Aoi repeated, letting Nene go.
“It was so uncalled for!” Nene wept.
“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Aoi said, grabbing her hands, “Why don’t we get home and I’ll make you a cup of tea?”
Nene nodded as she wiped away her tears.
Aoi got up to dress out of her costume when Nene realized that she had tear stains all over it.
“Aoi, your costume.”
“Madam Shijima will take care of it. She’s cleaning the costumes tomorrow anyway.” Aoi said. Nene didn’t argue with her but she knew Mei the costume manager would be less than thrilled when she saw it.
Still that aside, she very much wanted her cup of tea so she ought not slow Aoi down.
Once home, nestled by the window, Aoi made good on her promise. Nene soon had a cup of tea in her hands warming her to her core.
“Aoi, what were you trying to tell me before?” Nene asked as she took a sip. She could feel all the tension leave her body. “This tea is wonderful, where did you get it?”
“It’s Sakura’s personal blend. Now, what was it you asked me?” Aoi said, sitting beside her with her own mug.
“What were you trying to tell me when you came into the dressing room?”
Aoi paused for a moment, brows furrowed. Nene would be surprised if she could recall a single thing, the night had felt so eventful.
“Ah, I wanted you to guess who I saw tonight.” Aoi said. “It was a bit of a fun surprise for me.”
“Was it an old friend?” Nene asked, though she was sure she already knew the answer.
“Mayyybe.” Aoi raised her eyebrows, smiling into her mug. “Guess.”
“Akane.” Nene said immediately.
“How’d you know?”
“Because it's always Akane. I supposed he declared his love for you again.” Nene said. “You would think this many times would be considered a little improper.”
“It is not.” Aoi pursed her lips. “It’s very endearing.”
“Then you accepted.”
“No! Of course not Nene, I mean. It was so rushed and didn’t set my heart a flutter.” Aoi said. “I mean I can’t accept any old confession.”
For some reason, when she said this it made Nene grip her mug a little tighter. She’s right. You can’t accept any old confession. Especially not from little chorus girls with fat ankles.
“Oh, Nene! I just realized how that sounded.” Aoi grabbed Nene’s hand. “That was inconsiderate of me. Here you are suffering and I’m talking about my love life.”
“It’s not that. I just wish that I could prove to him that I was more than a chorus girl. I wish I was the Prima. I wish that I could be the Prima right now.” Nene set her mug down on the floor and climbed the windowsill to get a better view of everything. She could see the opera house from there. The street lamps glow in the night looking like fireflies in the distance. And yet she felt disappointed. It was just as she suspected. “But there just aren't any shooting stars out there.”
“Nene, you don’t need shooting stars to grant your wishes. As a matter of fact, I hear that our very own opera ghost can grant your wish.” Aoi gave her a very knowing smile that vanished into her mug.
Nene climbed back down, her eyes wide.
“He can?”
Aoi smiled wider. Nene knew she couldn’t help it. Aoi loved rumors and she loved spreading them, especially if it had to do with the phantom of the opera.
“I heard that after practice when the theater is empty, stand center stage, knock three times on the stage floor and say a prayer. If he appears, he blesses those who seek him with great musical talent for a heavy price.”
“What price?”
“Who knows?” She said. “I guess you have to summon him to find out.”
“Do you believe that story, Aoi?” Nene asked.
“Relatively. It could be just a rumor. Either way it makes the theater much more interesting don’t you think?”
“I suppose so,” Nene said. She looked back at the opera house. Nene had a weird feeling about it. It was just a scary story. It was nothing to get very worked up about. She didn’t necessarily need to be the Prima to get a beau. This hunger for fame will pass.
***
It didn’t pass.
Nene gave it a solid month to go away. But with every passing day it grew stronger. Every bow. Every practice. Every note that she sang made her want it more than ever. She wanted a chance to prove herself. She wanted someone to see her for all she was worth. And the more she hungered, the stronger the call was to her.
She was drawn to the stage. She wanted to see if the story was true. She lingered after practice, tempted to try, but never going through with it. After all, it was childish of her to indulge the opera’s little superstitions. Too childish.
And yet, where did she find herself a minute before midnight with a candlestick beside her. Center stage with a hand poised to knock.
She had this inexplicable feeling that she needed to do this. She needed to make the wish. She needed to try.
She held her breath and knocked three times onto the floor, center stage. Just like Aoi told her.
Then she got on her knees, closed her eyes, and she prayed.
“O’ angel of music, show me the way!”
A very beautiful thing about prayer is that everyone prays. Whether you believe in one god, many, or no god at all. We all pray and expect our prayers to be answered. Because what is a wish but a prayer that anyone can answer.
That was the type of prayer that Nene was making. It was a wish for the hunger to cease. An answer to the angel of music to show that she had listened to the call and she has been calling back. Ease the ache. Either let her settle or let her move on but let her do so.
But more than that it was a wish for love. She wanted someone to see her and appreciate her. She wanted to prove that she was worthy of love and that her mysterious stranger was wrong. She wanted to love someone and be loved back.
And when she opened her eyes, there was nobody there.
There was no phantom.
There was no angel.
It was just her and the candle she had set out next to her.
She felt a feeling of slight relief. Sure, she was disappointed but ghost stories were still ghost stories. It was a little scary.
“It was worth a try.” Nene sighed as she dusted herself off. “I guess it really was just a story.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”
Nene grabbed her candlestick holding it out defensively. She was hoping that she looked at least a little menacing but she doubted it by the way she was trembling.
Laughter filled the theater. Nene couldn’t see the owner of the voice at all. As she moved downstage she couldn’t see anyone anywhere.
She heard a whisper in her ear.
“Did I scare you?”
She whipped around so fast that she tripped. She squeezed her eyes shut ready to hit the floor but she didn’t.
She opened her eyes to see a young man had caught her in one hand and her candlestick with the other. The candlelight danced across his face. It revealed a knowing smile and bright amber eyes that nearly looked golden in the light. He had a white seal on his left cheek but if that wasn’t strange enough he was wearing a mask that covered half his face.
“I’m assuming you summoned me.” He said putting her upright. He looked like a shadow with red accents, the only things popping out was his red vest and white ascot. He sat down at the edge of the stage letting his feet dangle over the orchestra pit. He motioned for her to join him.
“I… I did. Yes.” She said, joining his side. She could feel her face burn in embarrassment from him catching her. He didn’t seem to notice. Rather, he got down to business instead.
“Name?”
“Nene Yashiro.”
“Wish?”
“I want to be the Prima Donna so I can win the hearts of gentlemen.” Nene felt strange to voice that wish. Sure, she wanted to be Prima but she was sure that it eventually led to love. If she was going to get her wish, she was going to have to be honest.
“Ah, so this is about love?” He said with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Isn’t being in the opera enough? That takes plenty of talent on its own.”
She crossed her arms.
“No. It’s not. Men don’t want a chorus girl with radish legs. DON’T LOOK AT THEM!” She squealed, elbowing him in the ribs.
“May I remind you, that you summoned me.” He groaned.
“Still, it's improper.” Nene said, tucking her legs beneath her. “Anyways, that is my wish.”
He paused for a beat. He stood then pulled Nene up as well.
“Sing.”
“What?”
“If you want to be the Prima, I suggest you sing.” He said.
Nene felt unsure but nodded. He needed to know what he was working with.
She took a deep breath and sang. It was an old lullaby she remembers her father singing to her. As she sang it, she felt as if she forgot about everything. It was like falling asleep, it was something she always knew how to do. All her anxieties melted away. She felt at home.
When she finished singing, he was quiet for what felt like forever. But then he spoke.
“Well, Mademoiselle,” He said walking towards her. “It appears we have a deal. I’ll help you become Prima, but if you accept this contract you realize there is a price.”
Nene’s eyes widened. She had forgotten that part. Aoi had mentioned that part. As matter of fact, “a heavy price” were the words she used. What could he want from her? What could she give?
“What would that be?” She raised an eyebrow.
“The price is only specified after the fact, I’m afraid.”
“That’s shady.”
“That’s business.” He said sticking out a gloved hand. “Deal or no deal?”
What was she willing to pay for this? This was her answering the call. This was her satisfying the hunger. She needed this. But what will she lose and will it be worth it?
“Deal.” She said, shaking his hand.
“Good,” He grinned. “Now, my dear, we discuss the matter of payment.”
Nene felt a chill run down her spine.
“Oh, but what will you give me?” He asked, circling around her. “There just so many things I want.”
“Ah, I know now.” He stopped in front of her. He lifted her chin slightly with his forefinger. “You belong to me now.”
Nene felt her face burn fiercely. Did she hear him correctly?
“That means that from this moment on, your voice is my voice.” He said. “Understand?”
She nodded unable to articulate the millions of thoughts in her head.
“Wonderful,” He removed his finger from under her chin. “After practice, meet me here when everyone is gone. Ten o’clock sharp. We have work to do.”
He turned away from her, she grabbed his wrist. She couldn’t let him leave. Not when she had so many questions.
“Who are you?” She asked.
“You said it yourself, I’m your angel of music.” He smiled, walking downstage but still facing her. “You may call me, Hanako.”
With that he fell backwards into the orchestra pit.
“Hanako!” Nene cried, running to the edge of the pit. But when she peered inside, he was gone. Vanished into thin air.
What had she gotten herself into?