A shoe in a tree? To mark the spot? To ward off evil spirits? Leggings that make him feel like a pervert?
Suddenly a melodica that sailed on the cherry blossom petals whipped by his face. Pretty good playing, too.
On top of a playground dome you were.
The kids started playing along with you. "What a great picture they make," he thought as he pulled out his phone.
Timing was never on Kousei's side. As the April wind picked up and blew your dress up his camera decided to flash earning him a good beating from you.
Watari and Tsubaki came along finally and before Kousei could blink twice you and Watari were already heart eyes.
He's Friend A.
Towa Hall came into view and you announced you'll be performing there today; you're a violinist. Surely, he's sparkling now. Stunned again until he feels until you grab his hand and tell him he'll come along.
"In the spring of my fourteenth year… I…"
"I'm taking off with you."
It was his mother's dream to make him a world-class pianist. Day after day, for hours on end. She would hit him. Yell at him. She wouldn't let him off even if he cried.
"Just what the score calls for. Just as the composer intended. Perfectly and precisely.
If it'll make her happy, if it'll make her get well, then he'll keep at it. It didn't work.
Take away the piano and he's empty. There's nothing left but an ugly resonance.
In Towa Hall you stepped on and played so far from the score the judges and audience were in a ruckus of applause at the blasphemy. The tempo, the dynamics…
It held Kousei captive.
"She's ultra-violent, her personality blows and she leaves the worst impression. But—…"
"She's beautiful."
It's like what his mother left him scattered away. He wants to hear it again, yet he doesn't want to hear it again. This kind of feeling, what do you call this kind of feeling?
You exist inside spring.
How did he end up playing again when you dragged him to that café? Of course he was the one everyone looked up to before he quit piano.
How did he end up telling you about how he can't hear the notes anymore? How did he end up being your piano accompanist for the next round?
He messed it up for you. So badly. He fell underwater and you had to continue playing.
Again. You started again with him.
He can hear your sound. You're here. April will be ending soon.
The piano world was perplexed when he started entering those competitions.
In the field of fireflies you could still ask him with a smile and fake microphone how his competition was.
What did he have in his heart? What did he lean on?
"I had you."
Since you were hospitalized, coming and going he's always searching for excuses.
What's worse is he couldn't answer when you asked if you wanted to both disappear from this world together.
On a nightly walk along that black cat on call with you he hears so well, thinking: "She bombards me from an unexpected angle." He's dumbfounded, always following you.
He wants to see you. A lump of steel, like a shooting star. "Just seeing the same sky as you makes familiar scenery look different."
He swings between hope and despair at your slightest gesture, and his heart starts to play a melody, what kind of feeling is this again? He thinks it's probably called… being in love. He's sure.
Even so the cat didn't make it. Blood on his hands. Of course it'll be happy to hold yours. He won't forget you. A little past the doorway of your hospital room he can't even look at you. He can barely feel the bag of canelés in his hand. He hasn't been playing. He'll only be able to think about one thing if he plays at the eastern competition…
"Will it reach her?"
"I—…" was all he could murmur. A syllable. His grip on the paper bag tightening slightly; you barged right in his heart without taking your shoes off. If he ever did forget you you'd come back to haunt him. You're so selfish. Inside him, you exist. there was only one score — I met the girl under full-bloomed cherry blossoms and my fate began to change.