For Sumire, songs are the only way for her to express the emotions she has buried in her heart. The feelings she could not tell anyone, the ones she has suppressed.
His gaze fell on the scores scattered all across the floor. His father did not seem to like his earlier indifferent attitude and threw his scores everywhere. Masato was collecting the clutter on the floor when he heard the sound of the door opening.
Somebody had entered the room and bent down. "I'll help. These are the scores that your father scattered? Should I put them in order according to page number?" Sumire said.
"It's fine. I'll do it."
"It'll be faster with two people." Sumire insisted. "What score is this? 'Ave Maria'...Ah! I know it! We sing this during worship in middle-" Sumire's sentence fell short when he suddenly yelled.
"It's fine!" Masato shouted. But he corrects himself right away. "Sorry. I always end up showing you my miserable side. You've found out, haven't you? I have a complex towards my father. I weaken before my father, hating myself for not inheriting his ability. I feel that, deep down, my father has already given up on me." Masato admitted.
He never wanted to show this weak side in front of the girl he liked. He never wanted Sumire to know how insecure he is about his abilities.
"I like Masato's sound. I remember during the contests in middle school, your accompaniment was easy to sing to. I could relax." Sumire admitted.
"You don't have to comfort me."
"It's the truth!" Sumire exclaimed. "I want to listen to your piano again. Right now, I want to listen to it. That's right! You should play now. Aren't there plenty of scores here? I want to listen to it, something that would calm my heart. Something that would put my mind at ease."
At those words, his eyes widened. This girl's straightforward behavior never seems to change.
"I want to listen to Masato's sound," Sumire pleads hopefully, her cheeks flushed red.
"It's not 'my sound' There's no individuality. As I've said, I'm fine, so you should go swimming already. Everyone's waiting."
Then, on an impulse, Sumire starts singing Ave Maria.
"Ave Maria! Ave Maria! Maiden mild!
Listen to a maiden's prayer!
Thou canst hear though, from the wild,
Thou canst save amid despair.
Safe may we sleep beneath thy care,
Though banished, outcast, and reviled -Maiden! Hear a maiden's prayer; Mother, hear a suppliant child! Ave Maria!"
Sumire pulled him towards the piano, reluctantly giving in as he started to play a familiar melody.
"Ave Maria! Undefiled!
The flinty couch we now must share
Shall seem this down of eider piled,
If thy protection hover there.
The murky cavern's heavy air
Shall breathe of balm if thou hast smiled;
Then, Maiden! hear a maiden's prayer;
Mother, list a suppliant child! Ave Maria!"
It quietly, gently feels like it's protecting you. That is what her sound sounds like to him.
"Ave Maria! stainless styled!
Foul demons of the earth and air,
From this, their wonted haunt exiled,
Shall flee before thy presence fair.
We bow us to our lot of care,
Beneath thy guidance reconciled;
Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer,
And for a father, hear a child! Ave Maria!" Sumire sang.
That's right. This is the sound that makes him feel at ease. The sound that he loved, a sound that feels like Sumire. But something is different. This feels like his own sound.
"I didn't expect Ave Maria to be such a bright song. This interpretation is beautiful." Isamu looks happy as he claps his hand on his shoulder several times
"Father." Masato trailed off. He didn't know what to say.
This is the first time he has seen his father look so pleased listening to his music.
"Well, then. I'm returning home." Isamu turned to leave but paused, "Masato, this is the first time I am truly listening to your sound."
Once he left, a silence descended between them. Masato still felt overwhelmed, but more than that, he felt happy. This is the first time his father has complimented him.
"The first time I played as a professional was at the age of six. It was only natural for me to debut under the influence of a great father. I didn't want my father to be ashamed of me, so I practiced very hard from a very young age. But, I quickly realized something was missing. Unlike my peers, I had no message that I wanted to convey. I just played because I was following in my father's footsteps."
Sumire didn't reply, but Masato knew she was listening, so he continued.
"During my debut performance, I heard what the adults said. 'His performance is good skill-wise, but he lacks emotions.' 'How can that be? He is only a child. It's frightening that he has no emotions.' My fingers froze up, and I failed at my first performance. My father didn't speak to me on the way home and went abroad for three months the day after."
Seeing his father's attitude, he knew he had messed up badly. But he still wanted to try.
Sumire sighs and walks over to the piano. She placed her hand on his face, and Masato felt his heartbeat increase.
What is she trying to do now? Sometimes this girl makes no sense. But right now, Masato saw the smile on her face.
"Just now, you were nervous about what your father told you, right? Knowing now, he expects more from you." Sumire said.
Masato nodded. "Y-yeah."
"Then let's play my favourite hyme."
"But I don't have the-"
"Ssh, it's fine. Even without sheet music, it should be easy to play." Sumire told him.
"Amazing grace! how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me! I once was lost,
but now am found, Was blind, but now I see.
'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved;
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Thru many dangers, toils, and snares,
I have already come;
'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me,
His word my hope secures;
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
When we've been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than, when we'd first begun." Sumire sang softly.
'Sumire, you know you're still giving me the most strength even now.' By the end of the song, the girl was smiling even brighter than before.
"Singing to Masato's piano feels great. I want to sing more."
"Then you can stay."
His gaze softened when she raised her fist up in the air and cheerfully said, 'alright.' This would be a good atmosphere to confess, but just now, with those innocent eyes, she told him she liked his sound. He supposes it cannot be helped.
He shall put off confessing for now. But, in the future, when the time is right. He will tell her these feelings.