Chapter 9 - 9

"Your performance was wonderful as always, Kaya. It really warms the heart."

"Thank you."

After finally passing the entrance exam, I was able to join the wind ensemble club that I had always wanted to be a part of. Though my father wouldn't allow me to participate in events like competitions or training camps because they took too much time, I didn't mind much. After all, all I wanted to do was play the piano, and since the piano isn't usually needed in wind ensembles, I could often spend my afternoons playing freely by myself. Today, with the other students who had participated in the competition on a break, it was just me and the club advisor.

"It's a shame you can't join us for competitions, but I understand it's due to your family situation."

"Thank you for your concern, but it's really fine. I'm happy just playing the piano like this."

My mother's family, though not particularly wealthy now, was from a well-known background, and as part of my upbringing, I was taught many things from a young age. The piano was one of them, and it became the only thing I truly enjoyed. Playing the piano helps me feel calm and forget about unpleasant things.

"I see. Actually, you know, many of the students have said they'd love to perform with you at a competition. They also say they want to get to know you better. So, for the next concert, we're planning to perform a piece that includes piano accompaniment. I was hoping you could play that part."

"Me?"

"Yes, your piano playing is wonderful, and I'd love for more people to hear it."

"I see… I'll talk to my father about it."

"Thank you. I'm hoping for a positive answer."

I hadn't known they thought that way about me. But hearing those words, I felt a bit of joy well up inside me. I thought I was satisfied just playing the piano on my own, but the truth was that I wanted to work toward a goal together with everyone else. I've managed to stay within the top 20 in school exams, so maybe my father would allow me to participate in the competition. With that hope in mind, I headed home.

That evening, I studied in the living room, waiting for my father. At some point, my mother came by with a warm cup of cocoa, saying, "You must be tired." It was a small gesture, but it touched me deeply since such kindness hadn't existed in my previous lives. While I waited, focused on my studies, I heard the sound of the front door opening. My father had arrived.

"That's unusual, studying in the living room."

"Y-Yes. I wanted to talk to you about something."

Nervously, I broached the subject, and my father responded with a skeptical look.

"What is it?"

"I'd like to participate in the next wind ensemble competition. I promise to keep working hard on my studies."

As soon as I said this, my father's expression turned sour.

"Kaya, I've told you to take your club activities moderately. Do you remember your latest school test results? You placed 15th. Yuu, even in a public school, has always maintained top grades. Of course, there's an incomparable difference between you two, but if you don't get better results, you're the one who will suffer later."

"…I understand that, but—"

"If you have time to waste on such trivial matters, you should be studying."

With those words, my father left the room. I dragged my heavy body upstairs. I had allowed myself to hope, and now I felt the crushing weight of disappointment. I had been doing my best to maintain my current grades. Even though the curriculum wasn't vastly different from elementary school, it was still challenging to keep up. But what more could I do? I didn't know anymore.

That night, I couldn't fall asleep, so I sat by my window, staring at the sky where no stars were visible. Outside, it was far too bright for night. Even in this rural area, the sky wasn't truly dark, so it must be as bright as day in the city. In both day and night, there are always those who keep pushing themselves, burning with effort until they can burn no more. Perhaps the stars are simply outshone by their light and heat.

A few days later, I told my teacher that I wouldn't be able to participate after all. She said it was a shame, but I continued playing the piano just as I had before.

Playing the piano—this is the only time I feel at peace. It's as if the piano speaks for the feelings I can't express. It's okay, I tell myself. I don't need to wish for more. I'll just focus on doing my best with what I have now.