“Ah, geez. They’re having so much fun up there.” I leaned against the back wall of the gym and listened to Andou, Asada, and their friends play.
At first, Asada’s drumming was hesitant due to his nerves, but as he fell in sync with the other members, it became smoother and smoother. By the time the second song started, he was doing great.
“…He really is……a lot like her,” I murmured to myself. The crowd was too loud for anyone to hear me. I felt a pang in my chest.
I could feel the pure joy in their music.
Asada. Even when it comes to music, you’ve got a way with words.
I looked away from him and focused my attention on Andou.
A little earlier, he’d come up to the rooftop with a determined look on his face.
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“I’m going to express my feelings to you through music. So please come and listen.”
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After that and Asada’s follow up, I’d felt too guilty to ignore them. The after-party was optional, and I’d originally intended to just go home. But when I saw this band Andou had thrown together synchronizing so well…I was kind of moved.
I remembered when Asada was practicing fills in my garage. Andou had seemed so seasoned as he adjusted his playing to Asada’s clumsy rhythms. But now, they were confident enough to smile at each other during performances. It wasn’t just them. The whole band was harmonizing well together.
They’re doing so good.
But watching their joyful performance only reminded me of Etsuko, and it hurt a little.
When Misuzu brought Asada and Andou to the garage, I was worried it might dig up my feelings about music, and I had intended to do what I could to keep that from happening. But even as I listened to their performance, I felt detached, like it had nothing to do with me. And that came as a relief.
It’s true. I’ve completely let go of music. Being able to confirm that was really comforting.
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“I guess it’s not enough to just have fun…”
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Etsuko’s words echoed through my mind.
No, Etsuko.
Just having fun is enough.
When it stopped being enough…everything went wrong.
Asada’s cheerful drumming sounded pleasant to my ears. His sound was a fine tribute for Etsuko—it was proof that having fun was music itself.
But I’d lost that joy and radiance when I lost Etsuko and my father. Music was irrelevant to me now. In my mind, I shut the case of my bass with a click.
I applauded when the second song ended. The audience was ecstatic. I was pretty impressed they could get them this hyped with only two months of practice.
The audience began to call for an encore, and I got up. There probably wouldn’t be one. With so little time to practice, and complete beginners in the mix, there was no way they’d prepared a third song. Besides, I’d only heard Asada practicing for two.
I stood up and smoothed out my skirt. I’d worn this skirt all summer break, and when school started back up, I’d had a real time of it straightening out the pleats.
“Thanks for the applause, everyone! That’s all for the band, but I have another song to perform solo!”
I started to walk out, but then Andou’s speech froze me in my tracks.
Wait, he’s going to play alone?
“A certain someone taught me the joy of music.”
I heard the audience fall silent. My chest felt tight. I knew he was talking directly to me.
My body trembled, rejecting his words. That was never my intention. I wished he would stop going around saying things like that.
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“I was just a kid, but I’ve never forgotten the sound of her music. I still haven’t forgotten, even now! I keep pestering her, because I want to hear her play again, and I’ve caused her a lot of heartache.”
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Yeah, you have.
I couldn’t help but think how selfish it was that he’d kept on going despite realizing that.
But Asada had said he couldn’t stop someone’s feelings, and I couldn’t help but agree. You couldn’t change how someone else felt. All you could do was reject them. But what should you do when someone doesn’t give up despite your rejections?
If I’d done anything wrong, it was letting him hear my music. I never should’ve done that.
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“But when I thought about it carefully, I realized that she’d never spoken to me in words. She’d spoken to me with her music. That was what captivated me, and made me fall in love with music itself. So…”
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I never intended to captivate anyone. I was just playing the bass, innocently following in the footsteps of someone I admired.
I never thought it would linger in someone’s heart and they’d grow so attached to it. I never imagined that my past, and the music I made then, would come back to haunt me.
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“I want to speak with my music, too—the music I got from her. This is the music in my heart, and I’m going to play it with everything I have. Please listen!”