Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Gankutsuou Reborn	By : roryheadmav Category: +G to L > Gankutsuou Views: 5812 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gankutsuou, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
DISCLAIMER: This story is a non-commercial
work of fiction based on the anime/manga Gankutsuou. Original copyright
of Gankutsuou belongs to Mahiro Maeda, Gonzo/Media Factory, GDH.
Absolutely no monetary gain has been made with this work.
GANKUTSUOU REBORN

© August 20, 2005 By Rory
V. Pascual

PROLOGUE: The Nightingale In A
Gilded Cage
La Decadenza was packed to the rafters,
the crowd an odd mixture of the genteel and the unsavory, who for once
were attired in the finery of the rich. It was a special evening after
all. A talented concert pianist and her tour manager were esteemed guests
that night, both eager to listen to the voice of the 'Nightingale of Luna.'
The young singer peeked nervously
through the curtains from backstage. Sure enough, the beautiful pianist
was seated at the table closest to the stage and the grand piano. Tintoretto,
the owner of the nightclub, was fawning over the woman and her manager
in the hopes that she would accompany him on a song.
"If he is as good as they say," he
was disheartened to see her mouth the words with a haughty air, "I see
no reason why not."
His hands tightened around the music
sheets he held, songs that the woman played in every concert and that Tintoretto
had forced him to learn. Most of them were solos from famous Paris operas.
However, what had caught his interest was a song with no title and no words
� a composition of the pianist herself. Somehow, the music score
had been mixed with the others that the manager had given to Tintoretto.
On a rare moment of privacy, for the depraved Italian would never let him
out of his sight, he snuck down to the empty club from their suite upstairs,
and played and hummed along to the sad melody on the piano for the entire
evening. Great was his love for the song that he found himself writing
the lyrics to it.
By the light of the gas lamp, he
read the title he had carefully scribbled at the top of the sheet music
� "We Were Lovers". He feared that the young woman would be angered by
his presumptuousness. But if he were to sing one song for her this eve,
it would be this.
As he peeked through the curtains
once more, he saw Signore Gasparde raise his glass in a toast to him, followed
by a red, wet tongue that licked his fat lips with utter lasciviousness.
He yanked the curtains close in an instant. He had completely forgotten
that Gasparde had paid handsomely for his other 'services' after the show.
It was this that made his life at
La Decadenza a miserable existence. True, he was known by all as the 'Nightingale
of Luna', but he was also a common whore. Although gifted with an angelic
voice, he was cursed with a physical beauty that was exotic and exquisite.
His skin was tinged a light shade of blue with pointed ears, characteristics
indicating that he was of Janina heritage, although he knew absolutely
nothing about that alien race or of his past. Long lashes fluttered over
mismatched eyes � the left gold, the other blood red. Add the long ebony
mane that reached down to the curves of his buttocks, and you have an unearthly
beauty that was most sought after by the rich and powerful of Luna�for
as long as they paid the price that Tintoretto demanded.
He held his shoulders tightly to
quell his shudders, his eyes squeezing shut. No, I will not be trapped
in this gilded cage forever. With firm resolve, he glanced at the pianist
once more. You shall see how good I truly am, Madam. Once you realize
the power of my voice, it shall be you who will help me gain freedom from
this accursed place.
A strong hand suddenly gripped his
arm, wrenching him around so that he faced his owner and master, Claudio
Tintoretto.
"Don't fuck up, my precious," Tintoretto
hissed in his ear, lapsing into the crude language of the lowborn. "That
crowd out there paid well to hear you sing. Let's not disappoint them,
shall we?"
"I hope you had spoken to Signore
Gasparde as I had requested you to," he told the Italian in turn. "I've
heard that he contracted a disease from one of the whores at Villa Cascali.
I will not be laid up in bed for close to a month because he refused to
wear protection."
"I did not know that." Tintoretto
had been furious at that time when he found out that he could not bed his
beloved whore. He shrugged casually, playing with the curling tip of his
bushy mustache. "I'd better return his money then and inform him that you'll
be entertaining special guests. With the full house we have tonight, we
could do without his money this time."
"Thank you," he said in visible relief.
"However�" Tintoretto pinched his
prized songbird's chin between his fingertips. "This means that I would
have you all to myself later on. I expect you to make yourself pretty for
me, my sweet."
Although a rough and insatiable man
in bed, the Italian was a better alternative to the diseased Gasparde.
With a faux smile on his lips, he answered, "I will, my Master."
Tintoretto gave him a hard slap on
the behind. "Now, go in there, boy, and wow that crowd."
With a nod, he took three deep breaths
to calm his nerves. As the emcee announced his name, he strode out onto
the stage to the claps and cheers of the club's regular patrons. To his
dismay, however, there was no such response from the elite in the audience.
Even the pianist paid no attention to him, busy as she was speaking angrily
to her manager, waving a letter in her hand.
"Why did you only give this to me
now?" she whispered harshly. "You kept this letter for three months, LeFortin!
He must think that I'm mad at him!"
The flustered manager tried to placate
his furious talent, but she had fallen into sullen silence. He was stunned
to see the tears limning her lovely eyes.
So much sadness in those beautiful
eyes�
It was only then that he sensed the
deep hush that had fallen around him. Ghostly faces stared back at him,
impatient eyes glowing in the dim lights of the club. The musicians were
waiting for his signal to begin playing. Backstage, Tintoretto was gesturing
madly for him to "Sing! SING!"
His mismatched eyes focused once
more upon the sad young woman before him. The resentment he had felt for
her earlier was replaced by concern and the strong desire to see her smile.
Then his lips parted, his voice faltering
at those first few notes, as he sang, "Harsh words were said, and lies
were told instead. I didn't ever mean to make you cry�."
The woman's head lifted at once at
those first lines, her eyes widening as she stared at his face. Various
emotions crossed her beautiful face � anger, shock, disbelief, fear� What
reason does she have to fear him?
Do not be afraid, he poured
that soothing thought into the song.
I only want to make you happy.
Strong was his wish to please that
his voice soared with every note like an eagle in flight. Such was the
power of his song that it touched the hardest of hearts among the audience.
Signore Gasparde, he saw, was continuously dabbing the corners of his eyes
with a lacy handkerchief.
As what usually happened when he
gave the whole of himself to a song, everything around him faded away into
nothingness. Only he and the music existed. But the song had an end. Still,
he sustained that final note for as long as he could.
Returning to the here and now to
the roar of the crowd, he found the young pianist standing in front of
him on stage, her eyes wet with her tears.
Thinking he had angered her, he bowed
in haste, stammering, "Please forgive me! I fell in love with your composition
the first time I played it on the piano. Such a beautiful song should possess
words to express itself more, so I dared to� I'm so sorry for my impertinence!"
"Count?"
His head lifted, hearing that tremulous
query.
"You�" she breathed out the word.
"The Count of Monte Cristo�"
So her fear had a name. Giving her
a most kind smile, he said, "I'm afraid I am no nobleman, Madame. I am
but a humble singer in a Luna nightclub."
"You dare to describe yourself 'humble'
with a voice like that?" she declared hotly, shocked by his timidity. "You
sell yourself too short. Have you no idea of the talent that you possess?"
He stared at her blankly, unsure
of how he should reply.
The pianist then smiled at him reassuringly.
"My piano had only accompanied the best sopranos, tenors and baritones
in the galaxy. I consider you to be among them." She raised an inviting
hand to him. Winking, she asked, "Shall we do it right this time, Monsieur
Etienne Delacroix?"
Beaming with happiness, he accepted
her hand and nodded. "It will be my pleasure, Mademoiselle Eugenie Danglars."

* * * * * * * * * *
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Gankutsuou Reborn