My first La Corda story. I love this show :D

Kind of...I don't know about AU, but just a snippet of the future, were my favorite pairing to become reality. I HOPE SO PLEASE GOD I'M BEGGING YOU.

Only the children and the concept belong to me. ...but oh, what I could do if those La Corda boys were mine...

xxx

"Mom!"

She groaned, closed her eyes for a long moment, then called, "What happened now, Keiichi?"

"Mizan won't stop banging on the piano!" the voice whined indignantly from the room next to the kitchen, followed by an angry, "It's not banging, it's a song!"

"Both of you calm down, I'm coming," Kahoko shouted loudly and evenly, her voice carrying easily to the next room over before exhaling loud and slow, pulling the pot of simmering noodles off the stove, conking her head against the wall with a dull thud, and trudging out of the kitchen and into the music room.

Two children, one grasping the neck of a violin as though ready to strangle it and the other protectively clutching a Chopin piano book to her chest, were squared off in the middle of the room, glaring angrily at each other. Both heads whipped around and fixed identical livid stares on their mother's exhausted face.

"He says I'm banging on it!" the girl cried tearfully, holding the music book tighter and glaring at her brother. "It's not banging! It said forte, and forte means loud and I was playing it loud! Tell him to get out, Momma--"

"She was distracting me!" the boy yowled over his sister, his lilac hair flopping into his amber eyes. "I told her it was my turn, that I wanted to practice violin, and she said no way, it was her turn--"

"It was!" Mizan shouted, stamping her foot, her topaz eyes filled with tears. "It was, and I am sick of you, Keiichi, you're just being mean and I practice more than you anyway--"

"Enough," Kahoko commanded evenly, and both children fell silent, glancing expectantly at their mother.

"Can I play, Momma?" both asked simultaneously, then 'humph'ed and turned away from each other, each glaring straight ahead.

"Here's an idea." Kahoko sighed wearily, and both looked back at her, wide-eyed, though still refusing to face one another. "Mizan, do you remember Ave Maria?"

Mizan gasped and nodded enthusiastically. "Mmhmm," she sang cheerfully, causing her twin to 'harrumph' a bit louder this time, and she spared him a withering glare before continuing. "I like playing it with you and Daddy."

Kahoko's stomach, as always, gave a fluttery lurch at the mention of their father, and she shook her head to clear her thoughts as she replied, "Keiichi just learned it. Why don't you two play a duet? That way you'll both be practicing."

They glared at each other for a moment before muttering, "Fine," and marching off to their respective instruments without looking back at the other. Kahoko had to bite her lip to stifle her laughter. Then, Mizan began the accompaniment.

Her fingers lightly plucked the right hand chords, far too long a stretch for her tiny hands, and she just managed to push the pedal with her toe, stretching so far it was almost comical; yet the sound that came out of the upright was something pure, honest. Keiichi lifted the bow and began the first sustained note, and though it was tentative at first, it grew stronger, more confident, and he was smiling again--they both were. And so was she.

Kahoko nodded her approval before rushing back into the kitchen, suddenly remembering the cooling pot of noodles, before the phone suddenly burst into tinny rings, making her jump a foot off the ground and scramble wildly for a wireless set buried under some second-grade school papers. She took a deep breath, heart still stuttering, before answering. "Hello?"

"My, you sound out of breath."

Her heart, already pounding, skipped a beat, and she was left breathless again. "Len." Her face broke into a wide smile. "The phone scared the crap out of me just now, that's all."

"Ah, good. I thought it might have been the terror twins doing something unspeakably horrible again," he replied, his quiet voice teasing lightly. She giggled, eyes sparkling.

"You should have seen them with Amou's kids. We got together with them for the first time since they were babies yesterday; by the end of it, Keiichi had gotten her daughter lost in the park maze and it took us a half hour to find her, and Mizan had convinced her son and the babysitter that the word 'gullible' isn't in the dictionary."

On the other line, he laughed out loud. "My God, what will they be like when they grow up?"

"Worse, probably." Both sighed, echoes of laughter in their voices. "Len...they miss you," Kahoko whispered after a moment. "I miss you."

"I miss you." His voice was quiet again, sincere. "Do you know how depressing it was to be in the city of love when you weren't there, too?"

"Yes, how was Paris?" Kahoko asked quickly, trying to ignore the painful pang in her chest at his words.

"It would have been beautiful, I suppose, if I'd enjoyed it more. Mostly the reactions were the same." He was quiet a moment, before asking suddenly, "What's for dinner?"

"What?" Kahoko's eyes widened, confused. "Why?"

"Just wondering." Suddenly, there was a long, sustained chime, ringing over the sound of the two instruments in the music room and making them pause: the door bell.

Again, her heart stopped.

"Hang on minute," she said slowly, a grin working its way onto her face. "The doorbell just rang."

He chuckled. "Answer it."

Kahoko gulped, her stomach knotting suddenly, nervously, and all but threw the phone on the countertop as she flew towards the front door, her feet leaving scorch marks behind her. She grabbed the handle and threw it open, and her knees went weak.

He was there, there he was, for the first time in months; in flesh and blood and not over a telephone or a computer screen--Len, her Len--she felt her legs quiver dangerously before she all but fell into his arms, burying her face in his chest. He sighed and stroked her hair, toying absently with the ends, murmuring into her ear.

"Do I need to carry you inside, or are we just going to stand on the doorstep all night?"

She let out a choked half-laugh and pulled away to look at him, her gaze held steady by those cool, sparkling golden eyes. "You can carry me if you want to."

He just smiled, tender like a bow to the strings, pianissimo.

"Dad?"

Both looked up, and Kahoko turned; her children were standing behind them, Keiichi's violin held slack at his side, both pairs of eyes wide as saucers. Len's face broke into a wide grin, and the two let out identical whoops of laughter before sailing into his arms.

"You're home!"

"I missed you so much!"

Kahoko laughed out loud and Len muttered something about "give these kids too much sugar" before grinning. "I missed you both, too," he murmured, holding both a bit tighter, and Mizan glanced up into his face, expectantly.

"Daddy, guess what I just learned on the piano!"

"Ohnoyoudon't," Keiichi snapped, sidling closer to his father. "Daddy, I just figured out Estrellita and I was wondering if you could show me--"

"Oi," Kahoko snapped, raising her eyebrows at her children. "Don't bombard Daddy the minute he gets home. Go wash your hands and he'll tell you all about his trip at dinner."

Both nodded enthusiastically, and Mizan asked quickly, "And Daddy will tuck us in tonight, right, and tell us the violin romance story?"

"Ew, but that one has kissing in it," Keiichi spat, glaring at his twin, who stuck her tongue out in response. Len rolled his eyes.

"The main point was for you two to wash your hands, I think," he said quietly, and both gasped, said, "Oh, yeah!" and raced down the hall, rolling up their sleeves along the way. Kahoko sighed and leaned back against Len, tilting her head back at looking into his eyes, which were sparkling with amusement.

"Can I tuck you in, too?" he asked teasingly, a murmur in her ear, and she smacked his arm lightly. He chuckled, then snaked his arms around her waist, holding her gently, before she twisted in his grip and pressed her lips to his. Dolce.

He smiled.

xxx

Yes, of course Len's daughter plays piano. Kaho hasn't completely forgotten Tsuchiura, you know.

Pianissimo: super-duper quiet.

Dolce: sweetly and softly. My favorite music-related word.

Reviewplz?