The day of our school music festival had arrived; it was being held in one of the gyms. The entire student body gathered there and filed into the seats that had been set up in advance.
The program would start with performances by music-related clubs like the wind ensemble and light music club, and then the second-years would kick off the choir competition. For the record, third-years didn’t participate since they were busy studying for college entrance exams. Timewise, because it was almost graduation, the choir competition also functioned as a send-off for the third-years.
In the lead-up to today, our class, 1-2, had practiced quite hard. We’d held sessions not just during music class, but also after school. It goes without saying, but there were a lot of kids who had club meetings, so only those who could make it had come. Although it was optional, a lot of students had taken a day off from their clubs yesterday to attend.
I think our class is the most pumped about this competition. At first, most of the boys weren’t motivated at all. If I’m not getting ahead of myself, I think me being the tenor leader and doling out instructions had a little something to do with it. But Nanase was the biggest factor of all. Though she looked shaky at times, she played the piano with everything she had. I think watching her inspired everyone. That’s why their demeanor gradually changed.
“If we’re going to do this, I wanna win.”
“I mean, isn’t first place awarded gold? And second gets silver; third gets bronze.”
“That’s it? We’re working our butts off, and we’re not even going to win an actual prize? Talk about demotivating.”
It was morning in the gym. There was a little more time before the festival would start. I could hear my classmates chattering around me. The air was restless.
Well, it’s the novelty of this sort of event that makes it fun. Not gonna lie, though: I’m not in any position to be enjoying myself. I’m more nervous than anything. I hope this ends without incident.
“Natsu, you look kinda pale,” Uta said.
“My stomach hurts,” I replied.
“Already?! You know we’re not going on for a while, right?”
It depended on how smoothly the event ran, but we would likely be up after lunch. My body won’t hold up if I’m nervous all day. I know that, but...
“I... I have a stomachache,” Hikari groaned weakly.
“H-Hikarin! You too?!”
Compared to us, Nanase blankly gazed at the stage.
“Oh, looks like it’s starting.”
A teacher walked onto the stage, and the buzz that had filled the gym faded away until it was completely silent. Over the microphone, the teacher said, “Now then. The seventy-sixth Ryomei High School Music Festival is about to begin.”
✦ ✦ ✦
Roughly one hour in, we were given a fifteen-minute break. The wind ensemble and light music club performances had just ended. The light music club had been represented by a band of second-years who I only knew by sight, but they were pretty skilled and had amped up the crowd. At the very least, they’re twice as good as me. Then again, they’re repping the entire club, so it checks out.
“Sitting the whole time made my shoulders sore,” Reita said as he rolled his shoulders.
“Yeah. And I’m getting sleepy.” Tatsuya yawned. “Natsuki, is your stomach feeling better?”
“It is. I just went to the bathroom, so I’m a little better.”
We walked down the hallway while chatting and quenched our thirst at the water fountain. Since the entire student body was gathered in the gymnasium, all the nearby halls were packed during break. Amid the hustle and bustle surrounding me, I felt someone tap my back.
“Natsuki-kun.”
I turned around to see Hikari. She looked worried.
“Can I talk to you for a sec?” She led me to an empty classroom where Nanase was staring out the window.
“You called Haibara-kun over,” Nanase observed.
“I thought we should do a check first.” Hikari locked eyes with Nanase before continuing. “Yuino-chan, you’re going to play in front of the entire student body today. The number of spectators is incomparable to what we’ve been doing until now. This might even be more people than the piano competitions and any previous school recitals you’ve performed at. It might be too late to ask now, but...are you going to be okay? Do you feel any changes in your condition?”
“Yes, I feel fine. As for my health, the two of you seem to be doing far worse than me.” Nanase giggled.
“Sh-Shut up. I’m nervous!”
“Whose fault do you think that is?” I complained.
“I’m sorry,” Nanase said with a smile. “Say, you two.” She seemed bright and cheerful today. It was a big difference from the uneasy and lost expression that had plagued her recently. “Will you listen to what I have to say?” she asked.
Our short fifteen-minute break was close to over. We wouldn’t make it in time unless we started heading back soon. The din in the hallway had already quieted.
Despite all that, we chose to listen to Nanase. “In the beginning, channeling my feelings into my songs was fun. I didn’t have a reason to play the piano. I simply enjoyed expressing myself. I was happy when my mom praised me, and those little pleasures were what fueled me to keep practicing.”
Nanase spoke as though she were reminiscing about the past.
“I participated in recitals and competitions at my mom’s suggestion, and to be honest, rather than playing in that nerve-racking environment, I enjoyed myself much more when I could play as I liked at home.”
She shifted her attention to Hikari.
“No matter how many times I experienced it, I couldn’t bring myself to like competing. But that suddenly changed and became a happy memory thanks to you, Hikari—it happened the day you came to one of my piano recitals and complimented me.”
“Huh? Really?” Hikari tilted her head.
“This happened a long time ago, so I doubt you remember.” Nanase smiled wryly. “‘That was amazing!’ you’d gush. ‘I was so moved, I want to hear you play again.’ I thought playing on the big stage once more wouldn’t be so bad if I could hear you say that again.”
“Yuino-chan... You never told me that before.”
“Indeed I didn’t. This is my first time admitting it.” Nanase fiddled with her long hair like she was trying to hide her dismay. “Because...it’s embarrassing.”
Hikari smiled gently at her.
“Because of that day—the day I botched my performance at a big piano competition—playing became an unpleasant memory, so I tried not to think about it... Recently, however, I looked to the past to help me overcome my condition. And when I did, I realized something. I wasn’t worried about disappointing the audience... Well, I was scared of that too.” Nanase’s voice trembled as she remembered what had transpired. “But what scared me the most was seeing my mom apologize.”
I’m sure Nanase is facing her past now. She’s confronting memories she didn’t want to remember and had turned away from.
“I don’t know who she apologized to; they might’ve been big shots in the music industry. My mom told me not to worry about it, but I got scared when I saw her apologize. I thought that if I failed a performance, it would cause trouble for her. That had never occurred to me before.”
This is the answer Nanase’s arrived at on her own.
“I wanted to make her happy, but if I was going to be a nuisance instead, then wouldn’t it be better not to play?”
That was what Nanase had once unconsciously believed. Those worries had caused her to become afraid of taking the stage until they had eventually manifested as visible symptoms.
“Holding Haibara-kun’s hand made me feel safe because I knew he wouldn’t be inconvenienced if I relied on him. Because...he said we were friends.”
“Well, yeah,” I told her.
“And the reason it didn’t work with Hikari is...”
I gulped without thinking. I hadn’t expected her to touch on that subject. The question had been weighing on my mind all this time. Why couldn’t it be Hikari? I’d been hesitant to investigate. Perhaps it was conceited of me, but when I looked at Nanase, I was worried the answer might affect her relationship with Hikari.
However, Nanase’s answer differed from my conjecture. “Because if I relied on you, Hikari, it wouldn’t matter if I put on a good performance.”
“It wouldn’t matter?” Hikari questioned, puzzled.
“Because I want to play the piano for you.”
Hikari blinked at her.
“And I can’t depend on someone I want to play for.”
“H-Huuuh?!” Hikari yelled, her face flushing madly as she finally understood the meaning behind Nanase’s words.
“Remember how I said I admired Haibara-kun’s band? I thought that was why I wanted to pick up the piano again... Of course, that was partially true, but there was another reason.” Then, she dropped an unexpected statement. “I was frustrated.”
It was so out of the blue that I didn’t understand what she meant.
“Frustrated about what?” Hikari asked.
“That a performance that wasn’t mine had moved your heart.”
“Huh?” Hikari uttered.
Funnily enough, that answer resembled what Hikari had told me about Nanase.
“On the day of that concert, Hikari cried next to me. Then, she kept praising how amazing your band was, even though that privilege used to belong to only me in the past.”
“Wait, Yuino-chan... It’s supposed to be a secret that I cried!” Hikari frantically tried to stop her, but Nanase continued without a care.
Then, Nanase flicked her gaze to me, now cleared of all the things that had been weighing her down. She pointed at me and declared, “In short, you are my rival.”
“Nanase... So by your standards, a rival is someone you depend on?” I questioned.
“Sh-Shush! It’s fine. This is you we’re talking about, after all.”
That’s not much of a counterargument... I shrugged. “Looks like you’ll be fine on your own, huh.”
“A certain someone remonstrated me,” Nanase said. “So I reevaluated my feelings.”
Who? As soon as I thought that, a certain face came to mind. Despite how she comes off, she likes helping others. I’m guessing she gave Nanase a hand.
“Hey, um... Y-Yuino-chan?”
Nanase had pulled Hikari close to her, and they were now staring into each other’s eyes. Hikari kept glancing at me, her cheeks dyed a vibrant scarlet.
“Hikari, I wanted to tell you that I can play again,” Nanase said, their noses practically touching.
Am I being excluded right now?
“The piano playing that you love... I want to show you it again on the best possible stage.”
“Y-Yes... Please do...” Hikari’s head bobbed up and down. She looked ecstatic.