Kamisu Reina:Volume 2 Prologue - Revision history

Dreamer2908: Adjusted heading

2016-01-10T17:21:10Z

Adjusted heading

← Older revision		Revision as of 17:21, 10 January 2016
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			== Prologue ==

	The first time she fulfilled me was by the means of sound.		The first time she fulfilled me was by the means of sound.

EusthEnoptEron at 08:51, 25 June 2014

2014-06-25T08:51:39Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:51, 25 June 2014
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	And thus, Reina Kamisu had taken me, Sakura Kawai, in just by existing.		And thus, Reina Kamisu had taken me, Sakura Kawai, in just by existing.


			<noinclude>
			{\| border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" style="margin: 1em 1em 1em 0; background: #f9f9f9; border: 1px #aaaaaa solid; padding: 0.2em; border-collapse: collapse;"
			\|-
			\| Return to [[Kamisu Reina Series\|Main Page]]
			\| Forward to [[Kamisu Reina:Volume 2 Yukimi Mitsui\|Chapter 1]]
			\|-
			\|}
			</noinclude>

EusthEnoptEron at 08:50, 25 June 2014

2014-06-25T08:50:34Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 08:50, 25 June 2014
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	My arms full with teaching material, I walk through an empty corridor, grumbling and complaining. "I can't believe it. She must be thinking that a class president is a maid-of-all-work or something..."		My arms full with teaching material, I walk through an empty corridor, grumbling and complaining. "I can't believe it. She must be thinking that a class president is a maid-of-all-work or something..."

	This stuff is heavy. Why would a teacher make a delicate girl like me carry so much? ...Ah, right, there are no guys here in the Junseiwa School. Tch, ~~those men sure are a species that's irritating~~ whether they're around or not.		This stuff is heavy. Why would a teacher make a delicate girl like me carry so much? ...Ah, right, there are no guys here in the Junseiwa School. Tch, obnoxious whether they're around or not, that men species.

	"And <i>of course</i> who would think of giving me a hand, right?"		"And <i>of course</i> who would think of giving me a hand, right?"

	Sure, it has only been a week since I've come to this school, but I was convinced that we're getting along well enough that one or the other would help me with this. Perhaps I have yet to integrate myself ~~fully~~ into the complicated social network that has formed due to ~~this singular~~ environment that is the Junseiwa School?		Sure, it has only been a week since I've come to this school, but I was convinced that we're getting along well enough that one or the other would help me with this. Perhaps I have yet to fully integrate myself into the complicated social network that has formed due to the singularity of the environment that is the Junseiwa School?<!-- Deliberately complicated -->

	...Or maybe they're simply a lazy bunch.		...Or maybe they're simply a lazy bunch.

	I put down the material for a moment and lean against the wall. <i>You better be of good use for our education</i>, I grumble as I scowl at the material before me and give them a weak kick.		I put down the material for a moment and lean against the wall. <i>You better be of good use for our education</i>, I grumble as I scowl at the material before me, and give them a weak kick.

	[<i>Plink</i>]		[<i>Plink</i>]

	I tense up; a piano note played just when I vented my frustration ~~and sounded to me like a sharp reproof~~.		I tense up; a piano note played as if to condemn me just when I vented my frustration.

	<i>Excuse me for taking my anger out on innocent teaching material!</i>		<i>Excuse me for taking my anger out on innocent teaching material!</i>
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	It's—It's beautiful.		It's—It's beautiful.

	This piece must be the "Heroic Polonaise" by Chopin. I'm all but versed in classical music, but I used to take piano lessons in elementary school, so I know ~~a few compositions~~, and I can also judge ~~the~~ pianist's skill.		This piece must be the "Heroic Polonaise" by Chopin. I'm all but versed in classical music, but because I used to take piano lessons in elementary school, I know one or another composition, and I can also judge a pianist's skill.

	There is a certain level that cannot be reached simply through effort but requires talent and individuality. I didn't have that sense, but she does. The music she produces is incredibly unique. Something bothers me, however: normally, a great performance like this will reveal the emotions of the artist. Here, it's the exact opposite. I can't see a trace of the artist's emotions, and yet the music reaches my heart. It feels translucent... no, that's way too harmless an expression. The sound feels... void. Even though it feels fake and somehow mechanic, I can't deny that there is something transcendent about it. If I were to compare it to something—		There is a certain level that cannot be reached simply through effort but requires talent and individuality. I didn't have that sense, but she does. The music she produces is incredibly unique. Something bothers me, however: normally, a great performance like this will reveal the emotions of the artist. Here, it's the exact opposite. I can't see a trace of the artist's emotions, and yet the music reaches my heart. It feels translucent... no, that's way too harmless an expression. The sound feels... void. Even though it feels fake and somehow mechanic, I can't deny that there is something transcendent about it. If I were to compare it to something—
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	The music fulfills me like water.		The music fulfills me like water.

	~~Led~~ by the ~~sound~~ of the piano, I walk to the second music room. ~~Because~~ the Junseiwa School aims for a rather high social class, ~~there are~~ a ~~lot~~ of students ~~who are~~ trained in playing the piano, and as a consequence, there are 3 practice rooms with a piano inside. The music in question is coming from the second one, but I can't see any other students around. Perhaps a teacher who failed at becoming a pianist is playing it?		Guided by the music of the piano, I walk to the second music room. Since the Junseiwa School aims for a rather high social class, quite a number of students happen to be trained in playing the piano, and as a consequence, there are 3 practice rooms with a piano inside. The music in question is coming from the second one, but I can't see any other students around. Perhaps a teacher who failed at becoming a pianist is playing it?

	I prepare myself for the case that a teacher is inside and knock at the door. I figured that if I ~~would express my sheer excitement~~, the player wouldn't be too angry about being interrupted; but the performance doesn't stop. <i>Probably... my knocking was drowned by the music,</i> I conclude, and therefore directly open the door while shouting "Excuse me!"		I prepare myself for the case that a teacher is inside and knock at the door. I figured that if I praised her performance to the skies, the player wouldn't be too angry about being interrupted; but the performance doesn't stop. <i>Probably... my knocking was drowned by the music,</i> I conclude, and therefore directly open the door while shouting "Excuse me!"


	And ~~so—~~<u>I was taken in.</u>		And then—<u>I was taken in.</u>


	"How may I help you?" the beautiful girl asks with a smile after stopping ~~her~~ play.		"How may I help you?" the beautiful girl asks with a smile after stopping to play the piano.

	<i>Huh? What? What is this smile?</i>		<i>Huh? What? What is this smile?</i>
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	—the entirety that was my world.		—the entirety that was my world.

	A gigantic tornado wreaks havoc on the town that was me, turning it into dust and taking everything in. I have been completely and utterly destroyed, ~~but somehow~~ I ~~am even~~ enraptured as my corrupted town is being taken in by that mighty and beautiful tornado.		A gigantic tornado wreaks havoc on the town that was me, turning it into dust and taking everything in. Even though I have been completely and utterly destroyed, I can't help being enraptured as my corrupted town is being taken in by that mighty and beautiful tornado.

	"Ah—"		"Ah—"
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	My voice produces a sound, but no words.		My voice produces a sound, but no words.

	<i>This is odd.</i> I think to myself. <i>She is beautiful indeed, but what of it? I may hate men, but I'm not a lesbian. Besides, even if I were, it's absurd to be "taken in" on first sight.</i>		<i>This is odd.</i> I think to myself. <i>She is beautiful indeed, but what of it? I may hate men, but I'm not lesbian. Besides, even if I were, it's absurd to be "taken in" on first sight.</i>

	But as a matter of fact—I <i>was</i> "taken in."		But as a matter of fact—I <i>was</i> "taken in."

	I look at the smiling girl. Ah... what is this feeling? I feel like I ~~was~~ wandering between reality and illusion. Huh? Is this the first time I met her? ...Of course it is. Had I met her in the past—even just for a split second—I wouldn't have forgotten her for the rest of my life.		I look at the smiling girl. Ah... what is this feeling? I feel like I were wandering between reality and illusion. Huh? Is this the first time I met her? ...Of course it is. Had I met her in the past—even just for a split second—I wouldn't have forgotten her for the rest of my life.

	But then where does this ~~nostalgia~~ come from...?		But then where does this sense of déjà vu come from...?

	Ah. I see.		Ah. I see.

	I haven't met her before nor have I ever come across her, but I have always pictured her to myself. She is my ideal conception. I haven't met her before nor have I ever come across her, but I'm sure that I have still encountered her countless times because she's ~~an illusory~~ being.		I haven't met her before nor have I ever come across her, but I have always pictured her to myself. She is my ideal conception. Yes, I haven't met her before nor have I ever come across her, but I'm sure that I have still encountered her countless times because she's a supernatural being.

	Celebrating our encounter as though the memory of my previous life had just been revived—I start to cry tears that contain something else other than salt and liquid. Delighted by that, I continue to shed tears until their meaning changes.		Celebrating our encounter as though the memory of my previous life had just been revived—I start to cry tears that contain something else other than salt and liquid. Delighted by that, I continue to shed tears until their meaning changes.


	I'~~M PLEASED TO MEET YOU~~! <u>You who exist for my sake!</u>		I'm-Pleased-To-Meet-You! <u>You who exist for my sake!</u>


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	And thus, Reina Kamisu had taken in me, Sakura Kawai, just by existing.		And thus, Reina Kamisu had taken me, Sakura Kawai, in just by existing.

Axyraandas: Two small typo-ish thingies. Thanks for TLing.

2014-06-18T04:17:51Z

Two small typo-ish thingies. Thanks for TLing.

← Older revision		Revision as of 04:17, 18 June 2014
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	But as a matter of fact—I <i>was</i> "taken in."		But as a matter of fact—I <i>was</i> "taken in."

	I look at the smiling girl. Ah... what is this feeling? I feel like I was wandering between reality and illusion. Huh? Is this the first time I ~~meet~~ her? ...Of course it is. Had I met her in the past—even just for a split second—I wouldn't have forgotten her for the rest of my life.		I look at the smiling girl. Ah... what is this feeling? I feel like I was wandering between reality and illusion. Huh? Is this the first time I met her? ...Of course it is. Had I met her in the past—even just for a split second—I wouldn't have forgotten her for the rest of my life.

	But then where does this nostalgia come from...?		But then where does this nostalgia come from...?
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	I haven't met her before nor have I ever come across her, but I have always pictured her to myself. She is my ideal conception. I haven't met her before nor have I ever come across her, but I'm sure that I have still encountered her countless times because she's an illusory being.		I haven't met her before nor have I ever come across her, but I have always pictured her to myself. She is my ideal conception. I haven't met her before nor have I ever come across her, but I'm sure that I have still encountered her countless times because she's an illusory being.

	Celebrating our encounter as though the memory of my previous life had just been revived—I start to cry tears that ~~contains~~ something else other than salt and liquid. Delighted by that, I continue to shed tears until their meaning changes.		Celebrating our encounter as though the memory of my previous life had just been revived—I start to cry tears that contain something else other than salt and liquid. Delighted by that, I continue to shed tears until their meaning changes.

EusthEnoptEron: Created page with "The first time she fulfilled me was by the means of sound. My arms full with teaching material, I walk through an empty corridor, grumbling and complaining. "I can't believ..."

2014-06-16T10:14:48Z

Created page with "The first time she fulfilled me was by the means of sound. My arms full with teaching material, I walk through an empty corridor, grumbling and complaining. "I can't believ..."

New page

The first time she fulfilled me was by the means of sound.

My arms full with teaching material, I walk through an empty corridor, grumbling and complaining. "I can't believe it. She must be thinking that a class president is a maid-of-all-work or something..."

This stuff is heavy. Why would a teacher make a delicate girl like me carry so much? ...Ah, right, there are no guys here in the Junseiwa School. Tch, those men sure are a species that's irritating whether they're around or not.

"And of course who would think of giving me a hand, right?"

Sure, it has only been a week since I've come to this school, but I was convinced that we're getting along well enough that one or the other would help me with this. Perhaps I have yet to integrate myself fully into the complicated social network that has formed due to this singular environment that is the Junseiwa School?

...Or maybe they're simply a lazy bunch.

I put down the material for a moment and lean against the wall. You better be of good use for our education, I grumble as I scowl at the material before me and give them a weak kick.

[Plink]

I tense up; a piano note played just when I vented my frustration and sounded to me like a sharp reproof.

Excuse me for taking my anger out on innocent teaching material!

I lift up the material once again—but just as I'm about to walk away, the sound of the piano keeps me from moving.

It's—It's beautiful.

This piece must be the "Heroic Polonaise" by Chopin. I'm all but versed in classical music, but I used to take piano lessons in elementary school, so I know a few compositions, and I can also judge the pianist's skill.

There is a certain level that cannot be reached simply through effort but requires talent and individuality. I didn't have that sense, but she does. The music she produces is incredibly unique. Something bothers me, however: normally, a great performance like this will reveal the emotions of the artist. Here, it's the exact opposite. I can't see a trace of the artist's emotions, and yet the music reaches my heart. It feels translucent... no, that's way too harmless an expression. The sound feels... void. Even though it feels fake and somehow mechanic, I can't deny that there is something transcendent about it. If I were to compare it to something—

—it's like water.

The music fulfills me like water.

Led by the sound of the piano, I walk to the second music room. Because the Junseiwa School aims for a rather high social class, there are a lot of students who are trained in playing the piano, and as a consequence, there are 3 practice rooms with a piano inside. The music in question is coming from the second one, but I can't see any other students around. Perhaps a teacher who failed at becoming a pianist is playing it?

I prepare myself for the case that a teacher is inside and knock at the door. I figured that if I would express my sheer excitement, the player wouldn't be too angry about being interrupted; but the performance doesn't stop. Probably... my knocking was drowned by the music, I conclude, and therefore directly open the door while shouting "Excuse me!"

And so—I was taken in.

"How may I help you?" the beautiful girl asks with a smile after stopping her play.

Huh? What? What is this smile?

"Hello...?" she asks again while I am frozen on the spot.

Oh, I have to reply something! I think to myself, but I can't talk. I'm still taken in by the beautiful girl in front of me, incapable of escaping her spell.

Taken in.

What was taken in?

I was taken in. My existence, my values, my meaning, my beliefs, my goals, my future.

—the entirety that was my world.

A gigantic tornado wreaks havoc on the town that was me, turning it into dust and taking everything in. I have been completely and utterly destroyed, but somehow I am even enraptured as my corrupted town is being taken in by that mighty and beautiful tornado.

"Ah—"

My voice produces a sound, but no words.

This is odd. I think to myself. She is beautiful indeed, but what of it? I may hate men, but I'm not a lesbian. Besides, even if I were, it's absurd to be "taken in" on first sight.

But as a matter of fact—I was "taken in."

I look at the smiling girl. Ah... what is this feeling? I feel like I was wandering between reality and illusion. Huh? Is this the first time I meet her? ...Of course it is. Had I met her in the past—even just for a split second—I wouldn't have forgotten her for the rest of my life.

But then where does this nostalgia come from...?

Ah. I see.

I haven't met her before nor have I ever come across her, but I have always pictured her to myself. She is my ideal conception. I haven't met her before nor have I ever come across her, but I'm sure that I have still encountered her countless times because she's an illusory being.

Celebrating our encounter as though the memory of my previous life had just been revived—I start to cry tears that contains something else other than salt and liquid. Delighted by that, I continue to shed tears until their meaning changes.

I'M PLEASED TO MEET YOU! You who exist for my sake!

"Are you all right...?"

"—I'm fine!" I finally say. "Your play was beautiful."

I can talk normally now. I've already taken her in. No? I was taken in? Ha, it's the exact same thing at the end of the day. She entered and fulfilled my body as easily as water.

And thus, Reina Kamisu had taken in me, Sakura Kawai, just by existing.