【Strawberry Orange】Starry Night

I. Lentoeamoroso

At the beginning of the new year, all members of "Enthusiasm" dressed up and went to a New Year's concert of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra of Naples together.This well-known ancient orchestra has a wide range of repertoire, from large-scale symphonies and operas to modern popular film soundtracks, and they are all good at it.The melody, as dazzling as the Milky Way, is sometimes grand and majestic like a storm, and sometimes quiet and melodious like a spring in a forest.No matter how ups and downs the performance is, the music is always breathtaking, and people can't help but admire it from the bottom of their hearts.At the end of the song, the applause in the San Carlo Theater lasted for a long time, and the encore continued.

After the concert, everyone ate a sumptuous New Year's dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant, and the soul and flesh were double satisfied.Naturally, once back to the orchestra to relax, everyone burned out—without a change of clothes, they collapsed on the sofa one after another.

Several corpses in brocade clothes were drowsy while chatting casually.Fugo was about to fall asleep in the white noise.Naranja was lying beside him, with his head resting on his arm, and from time to time made one or two echoes of unknown meaning.

A sound of footsteps approached, and the weight on Fugo's arm suddenly disappeared, and the blood began to flow again, but it was terribly numb.So, reluctantly, he rubbed his arms and opened his eyes.

Turns out Apache made the eggnog and served it.Naranja sat up, took a sip from the cup, and then lay back limply, her hairy head arched towards Fuge's waist.Fuge also took a glass, he tasted the smooth egg milk and rum, the cardamom powder was rich and fragrant, and he was vaguely drunk.He lowered his eyes, a little delirious... He missed a few beats of his heart before realizing that he had been looking at Nalanga's sleeping face, seeing the milk froth around his mouth.

"I, Giorno Giovanna, have a dream."

Fugo withdrew his gaze and turned to look at the source of the sound.Giorno, who was lying on the corner sofa next to him, kept his body motionless, stretched his arms hard, and finally reached the cup with his fingertips.Giorno took a sip of eggnog, and raised his glass up in the air as a gesture of congratulations.

"One day we'll knock out the Philharmonic. We'll be Neapolitan music stars!"

"Well said... Well said..." Bugarati seemed to be talking in his sleep, and he waved his hand hanging on his waist slightly, feeling that he had fallen asleep.

"I'm coming too!" Mista slumped on the ground with his back leaning against the sofa. He leaned on the sofa cushion with one hand, and raised the mug high into the air with the other hand. "One day, the saxophone will also enter the symphony orchestra!"

"My regiment, of course it's fine. Let you be the chief." With a crisp sound, Giorno and Mista clinked glasses, and the two giggled and giggled together.

"Then someone must be willing to write a song." Trixiu sat alone on a sofa, his skirt unfurled like a peony in full bloom, and his voice was misty like a drunken nightingale. "Who will write the music?"

"How about Fugo? He! He is the smartest!" Mista suddenly pointed at Fugo with his cup.Apaki brought blankets and was covering everyone's bodies one by one.When he heard Mista's words, he also glanced at Fugo. "Mozart started composing at the age of 6." He said while covering Giorno's head with the quilt, "You little genius, will you be 16 after the New Year?"

"...What?" Naranja stood up.He rubbed his eyes, raised his body, and turned his face to Fugo.

"16 years old...?"

Fu Ge suddenly sobered up most of the wine.Naranja's face suddenly magnified in front of his eyes, his warm breath, with the sweet smell of milk and a hint of rum, tickled Fugo's face.Naranja's eyes were sleepy, half-closed, her eyelashes trembling slightly, as light as black feathers.

It's too close, Fuge thought vaguely, but he didn't look away... He saw his own reflection in the watery eyes of Naranga's purple grapes. For some reason, he felt a group of butterflies flapping their wings in his chest.

"Fuge...Fuge, so you are one year younger than me." Nalanka whispered inarticulately.Fuge looked down at the circle of milk froth around Nalanga's mouth, and nodded blankly.

"Then... you have to call me brother."

"……what?"

"You want to call me brother," Nalanka grinned as the purple grapes bent into a crescent moon and their red apple muscles bulged. "Also, don't hit me again in music theory class!"

Fuge became furious, picked up the sofa cushion and pressed it on Naranga's face.Nalanga also came to his senses immediately, and fought back vigorously. The two of them rolled into a ball, rolled to the ground, knocked over the lamp, and splashed a glass of eggnog on the blanket... Apache roared furiously, and the distant night sky fainted. The clock strikes New Year's Eve.

Dang, Dang, Dang... Twelve times, Apaji lifted the ears of Fugo and Nalanja one by one.

The new year has started so loudly and peacefully.

II. Moltoallegroconfuoco

Since performing with church choirs at Christmas, the Enthusiasm has grown in popularity.At that performance, there were no empty seats, and even many people came to hear the sound and stood and listened to the whole scene.Their wonderful and warm music has captured the hearts of all the trustworthy men and women in the surrounding area, especially Bugarati, who now walks on the street, and someone always greets him every now and then.

Today, that church has also become the base of the orchestra.The priest appreciated the music of the orchestra very much, and he promised Bugarati that he could come to the church to practice once a week.If the orchestra intends to hold a recital in the future, it can also be held here.When everyone heard it, they were overjoyed, such a good opportunity, it's like a pie in the sky!Mista, in particular, was so happy that he had wanted to play in church for a long time—he even overcame his psychological barrier, and the trio gathered after a long absence to rehearse Brahms' fourth movement, which had been put on hold for a long time.

Spring in Naples has arrived quietly, and in March in Yangchun, the music complements the scenery outside the window.Listen, everything is revived, the bright and hearty French horn is like a golden warm sun falling in the forest, the brilliant and light allegro like a scherzo starts with enthusiasm and jumps, unfolds in a peaceful and beautiful modulation, and finally ends with joy and glory.

After the noise subsided, the few people who were watching applauded heartily.

"Thank you everyone." Bugarati turned from the piano bench and said. "It feels very good. In the afternoon we will go to church to practice."

"Finally!" Mista rubbed his fists, he jumped up from the chair like a spring under his feet, and happily hopped to the window sill to pour out the condensed water.

"Oh, look at you, you're drooling with joy." Trish joked.But Mista, uncharacteristically, did not defend loudly as usual.He cleaned up the French horn with a smile, strode forward to hold Trishul's hand, pulled her around, and then the girl flicked her forehead.

"Whatever you say," Mista sat down, raised his legs, and squeezed Fugo away. "Now I have overcome myself, I am invincible!"

"You scare me a little." Giorno also put away his musical instrument, and looked at the rowdy scene. "Beware of extreme joy begets sorrow, don't froth in the afternoon."

Fugo moved a little away, watching Mista rushing out to attack Giorno again.Not long after he joined the group, he curiously asked Mista about what his feelings for 4 were. The performance was going to be performed tomorrow, and there was also a solo section... The result was terrible, with four bubbles in a row-four notes of blowing.Since then, he has kept his tongue about the number four.Perhaps God and the church gave him confidence this time.

Buccarati and Apaki shot in time, and each of them separated Giorno and Mista. "Stop messing around, pack up and have lunch and then you can go out." Apaki frowned, carrying Mista like a chicken.

"The oven should be ready soon, I'll go and have a look." Bugarati let go of Giorno, ready to go out.He walked away two steps, thought of something again, and looked back at Fuge, "Fuge, remember to call Nalanja out."

Fugo nodded and got up too.

This recital, after the Brahms Horn Trio, will also feature a piece by Naranga.Naranga practiced very hard, but kept silent about the repertoire, and even locked the door of the piano room when practicing alone.In Fugo's music theory class, he never mentioned this piece.

In fact, Fugo's music theory classes have been less recently.Naranja said that the music theory class has now reached the level of musical form analysis and composition analysis. When Buccarati taught him the music in class, he was almost done. Look at Bugarati.Fuge offered to help with the homework, but Naranja clutched his notebook tightly and refused to give it to him, and the two almost fought again.

I don't care about your mentally retarded homework, Fuge thought angrily, I hate it when I look at it.

Now he only occasionally does warm-up exercises with Naranja, listens to him play scales and Hanon, and occasionally a few etudes.Sometimes without playing the etude, he would be pushed out by Naranga.At this time, he always felt as if a group of butterflies were flying around in his heart, and the roots of his teeth were slightly itchy.Estimated to be angry.

Fu Ge came to Nalanga's piano room and knocked on the door. After a while, Nalanga opened the door.

"It's you, Fugo." Seeing that it was Fugo, Nalanga dodged his eyes for some reason.With this feeling again, Fuge became inexplicably angry again. "You didn't overhear me playing the piano, did you?"

"...The sound insulation in the piano room is so good, how could it be possible to hear it?" Fugo kowtowed on Naranja's head, "What's more, I will go to the church to rehearse in the afternoon, and even if you don't want to listen to it, I will listen to it." get."

"I want to tell you. You wait!"

Nalanja laughed and punched Fuge on the shoulder.He quickly flashed out the door and went downstairs in a hurry.Fuge looked at his back, his shoulders ached, and his teeth were itchy.

III. Prestofurioso

The spring is bright and the sun is shining brightly. Unlike the last time of going against the wind, today everyone laughed and laughed all the way, as happy as an outing. Trixie sang a melodious little tune, and even Apache's expression softened a little.

Everyone soon came to the familiar White Church.

This is a public rehearsal, in addition to priests and nuns, there are some spectators waiting on the benches.When they saw the orchestra open the door and walk in, they all had happy and expectant smiles on their faces. It seemed that they had been waiting for a long time.Several women stood up and blew kisses to Bucgarati, who smiled and nodded in response.

The orchestra runs through the nave.Bugarati, Giorno, and Mista walked towards the altar, while the others sat down in the front row and watched the trio get ready.

"There are so many people." Hearing the exclamation, Fugo looked around and saw Naranja turned around restlessly, staring at the audience in the rows behind him with wide eyes.With one hand resting on the back of the chair and his chin resting on the back of the hand, he nodded his head when he spoke.Fuge stared at the messy hair on top of his head, and couldn't help but reach out to comb him a few times.

"Everybody loves Bugarati," says Apache.Trish made a sound of approval, like singing.

"Are you nervous?" Fugo asked, putting down his hands.Naranja shook her head, her hair messed up again.He watched Naranja turn back to his body dumbfounded. "It's all right, I trust you. You're sure to play well."

Naranja nodded without saying a word, and kept looking at the stage.Fuge also looked at the stage, and the trio was ready.

The violin played the first theme lightly, and the pastoral-like fresh melody began, melodiously echoing in the tall church. Looking around, it seemed as if you could see the towering old trees.Accompanied by the soft touch of the piano, the French horn cuts in softly, with a rich and bright tone, which is the same as the melody of the violin. The two echo each other, like the rising sun, illuminating the vast dense forest.Against the backdrop of Bugarati's warm and jade-like arpeggio, Giorno's performance gradually became enthusiastic and unrestrained, like the sun gradually rising and shining brightly. Mista's French horn always responded leisurely, and the three instruments unfolded superbly and exquisitely. The counterpoint performance of the song sets off the dreamy and melodious idyllic sentiment of the piece with incomparable elegance and harmony.

The next three movements were played almost perfectly. The dream of walking in the woods was followed by elegy-like mourning, and finally the vitality of spring returning to the earth.The romantic and classical tunes were played passionately and tacitly by the three, which was amazing.

The last warm music was still echoing in the church, and people were already applauding.Fuge was no exception. He was deeply moved by the music and clapped all the time. The three people in the stands bowed slightly to show their thanks. After that, they put away their instruments and returned to the stage.He felt that Naranja next to him got up, and he looked up, but couldn't see Naranja's face clearly——Naranja stepped over him and walked onto the stage.

The applause gradually subsided, and Fugo put down his hands. His eyes followed Naranja all the time, and he followed him to the piano. Seeing him sit down on the piano bench, his profile was bulging like an apple, and he let out a long sigh of relief.He still has the iconic movement before playing the piano - he twists his body to find a comfortable position, then hangs his right hand above the keys, curls his fingers, and falls like a dance...

The round and soft quarter notes like pearls bounced from Naranja's fingertips.

It's little star.

Fugo held his breath and opened his eyes wide.

In the beginning, it was just a few small pearls scattered on the keyboard.Soon, the lively and lovely sixteenth notes joined the dance with small steps, laughing and playing, and Naranca ran with neat hands, throwing strings of light and translucent pearls to the towering arches of the church. The top, sprinkled into the colorful broken light... The sparkling pearls turned into diamond stars in an instant, dazzling.

Accompanied by colorful jumps and trills, the little star blinked her eyes in the dome.The accent appears and disappears, playful and lively like hide and seek.Just like Naranja, thought Fugo, seeing a big smile on Naranja's face.Naranja played the main melody alternately with both hands, light and smooth, and the stars at his fingertips were shining brightly.And his use of the pedals is also just right. As the variation deepens, the speed of the piece gradually slows down, and the music becomes continuous, like the soft night, from far to near, looking up and seeing the moon and stars in the distance.

Fuge thought of that starry night again.However, this time, the night sky is no longer a frenzied vortex.Van Gogh painted a crazy picture in extreme pain, but he did not forget to use warm yellow dots to shine on the stars.He once saw paranoia, struggle, and despair in this painting, and now he has a new epiphany.Naranja's warp speed dropped to the slowest.Fuge saw Nalanga caressing the keys gently with both hands, the little crystal-like stars quieted down and shone brightly, and the night was as quiet and soft as velvet.

Maybe the pines and cypresses piercing into the night sky are hoping for light, wanting to pick off the warm stars and moon?

The sun shines on Naranga through the stained glass windows of the church.Leyin cheered again, and the last variation kicked off the night with great fanfare.The little stars wore colorful decorations on their bodies, and the shining dance finally ushered in the climax. They jumped, laughed, danced, and sang... A set of decisive and powerful octaves set off this gorgeous and fiery emotion to the fullest. Ultimately, Naranja touched the keys with both hands at the same time, the chord stood up enthusiastically and brilliantly, and the Milky Way illuminated the sky——

Since when did Naranja become so...excellent?Obviously at the beginning, he was just a vagrant... He was so stupid that he couldn't even figure out the questions.Fuge thought in a trance, everything in the world seemed to have lost its voice, and he couldn't hear anything.

He stared straight at the stage, Naranja's little face was flushed, and his grape-colored eyes shone brightly like the little stars he played just now.Naranja stood up, awkwardly imitating the movements of the previous trio, bowed to the audience, and a lady stepped forward...

Fuge suddenly came back to his senses.

A lady stepped forward gracefully, embraced Naranja, and kissed him on the left and right cheeks.

The applause and cheers around suddenly became clear and noisy.

Naranja's face was almost bleeding.The lady gave Naranja her handkerchief, she hugged Naranja again, then turned and left reluctantly.Fuge sat still, and the partners around him stood up one after another, hugged the glowing red Nalanja, and praised and ridiculed loudly.

Bugarati thanked the priest on behalf of the orchestra, and everyone prepared to go home.Only then did Fuge get up slowly and join everyone.He walked at the end without saying a word, moving his steps like a walking dead, keeping a distance of several meters from everyone, and staring at the back of Naranja's frizzy head.

Fugo recalled the concert that failed miserably more than a year ago.It's been a long time since he's thought about it... His mind just crashed in the same mess as the song at that time.The panic-stricken audience receding like a tidal wave, the empty and silent concert hall, and the beautiful and cold face of the mother all got together and twisted into a ball, as grotesque and wild as a dissonant interval.Those notorious devil trios gnawed at his nerves, rejoicing in the spotlight, dancing the devil Katz dance around the broken piano.

After an unknown amount of time, Naranja finally turned around and found Fugo.He shook off Mista's arm hooked around his neck, and bounced to Fogo's side.

As the sun set in the west, everyone strolled leisurely along the sea cliff, with the cool sea breeze blowing on their faces, Naranja's face seemed to be less red.

"Well, Fogg, I play very well!"

Naranja exudes happiness and warmth all over her body, just like a fire bird, making the devil feel ashamed.

I'm so annoying.

"I'm petrified! I didn't expect everyone to like my song so much. Look!"

I'm so annoying.

Naranja held Fugo with one hand, and shook the handkerchief in front of Fugo with the other hand.It was a small pale pink silk scarf with delicate flowers embroidered on one corner, and it was fragrant.Fugo frowned and clenched his hands into fists—he hated the smell.

Naranja seemed to be chattering about something, but Fugo didn't listen.Nalanja held Fugo's hand tightly, the warm touch made Fugo upset, blood rushed to his heart, his brain was in a mess, and his ears were buzzing.He looked at the beaming Naranja - who was waving a handkerchief happily - and felt his mouth dry.

There was no sound in the world, and Fuge could only hear the sharp tinnitus that drove people crazy, coming fiercely like a raging poisonous fire, burning his reason completely.The butterfly that has been dancing on his chest these days seems to have turned into a vicious vulture, beak by beak, constantly pecking at his internal organs.

I'm so bored!

"...What's so good about it."

He squeezed out words word by word through his jaw.Naranja finally stopped talking.

"what?"

"... Isn't it the little star variation?"

"Simple dead."

"—I can play with my eyes closed."

"What do you mean?"

Naranja let go of Fugo's hand.

"This song is not difficult."

Fugo stopped in his tracks and stared fixedly at Naranja's face.The joy on Naranja's face faded like a tide, and he opened his mouth slightly, staring at Fugo with a puzzled and vigilant look.The more Fugo watched, the more furious he became.

"Only a shallow woman like my mother would sacrifice it to the altar. She thought that she could..."

There was a sudden dull pain on his face, and his vision quickly blurred.Amidst the screams of his companions, Fuge staggered, his teeth smashed his tongue, and his nasal cavity was filled with sweet and bloody smell.Naranga punched him right in the face, and knocked his words back in his throat.

Fuge wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth fiercely with the back of his hand, and Nalanja also rushed forward like a lynx, grabbed Fuge by the collar, and punched him again.Fugo clasped Naranja's wrist furiously to block the punch, but failed to prevent Naranja's sudden kick.Taking advantage of Fuge's pain, Nalanja withdrew his wrist, and hit him with all his strength, Fuge was thrown to the ground all of a sudden.The former homeless boy had lived a hard life on the street where the weak and the strong preyed on the strong for more than a year. Once he got serious, the rich young master who was pampered and pampered since childhood was no match for him.

Nalanga firmly pressed Fugo to the ground, punching again and again.At this moment, a pair of arms passed through his armpit and pulled him back—it was Bugarati, who pulled away Nalanga who was kicking wildly.

"Fogo! I'm going to kill you!" Naranja roared angrily, kicking and punching into the void desperately.Friends had never seen such a ferocious side of them, and Trish covered his mouth in shock.

Apache helped Fugo up, and Fugo got up unsteadily, and tried to pounce on Naranja again, but failed.Apache clamped him firmly.

The friends split into two sides and pushed the two far away.The setting sun was like blood, and the two pairs of purple eyes were dyed bright red, and their gazes were glued together.

As the evening wind picked up, Fuge's anger was gradually blown away by the coldness, and his brain gradually cleared up.The anger was replaced by burning pain all over his body, and the vulture in his chest screamed sharply.As the night darkened, the stars began to blink, but he couldn't see Naranja's face clearly.The face of Naranga who played such a shining and beautiful little star in the afternoon, the face of Naranga who was as fierce as a lynx just now.

Suddenly, Naranga broke away from Bugarati, turned around and rushed into the night alone.Mista reacted the fastest, he stuffed the instrument bag into Bugarati's hand, and chased after Naranga.And Fugo was still firmly held by Apache, and he just watched their backs disappear into the distance.