Author's Note

I thought it might be of merit to mention that this is a rewritten version of my old story Rosamaria, in case you're familiar with that. The two are only similar in concept, however, and have evolved to be two entirely separate and unique stories.

Also, it may be important to not that this fanfiction follows the manga and not the anime. It won't be a total puzzle to you if you haven't read the manga, but a few events from the manga that didn't occur in the anime may be referenced, so be aware if that if you haven't read the manga.

Most importantly, I hope you enjoy.

"This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man." -Shakespeare's Hamlet

Prelude

It is snowing, and your coat is thin. The closed stores have denied you refuge from the cold, windy night, and winter is beginning to nip at your fingertips. You glance at your phone for guidance only to find that it is dead. With a heavy heart and a deep sigh, you continue to trudge along the unfamiliar city streets.

Eventually, you begin to wander aimlessly, unable to find your way home- unable to find any sign of life. Your mind begins to drift- where are you, who are you? What are you doing? What do you hope to achieve? Are you who you are supposed to be?

You wonder this often, though you never find an answer. Rather than thinking more upon it, you cast the notion aside. Rather than solve it, you look away. Just as you've always done.

Just as everyone has always done.

You round an empty corner when a far off light catches your eye. It's the only sign of life you can see, and it is beautiful. Radiant. Perfect. Unsure of whether it is curiosity or loneliness compelling you, you are stumbling over your numb toes to reach that light. Although it is distant, it is hopeful.

You find yourself standing outside a park in which you have never been. The trees are filled with strings of golden light, illuminating the crystallized ground. It is as luminous and mysteries as a galaxy. You wander forward into the park marveling at the sight, as a child marvels her first view into the vast night sky.

And as you enter- the very moment you enter, neither a second before nor a second behind- you are greeted by music; a symphony- the most beautiful symphony to have ever known the air. You follow the sound, praying for its source.

You reach the source of the sound; the stage- a gazebo from another world. You hardly notice the crowd of spectators surrounding it. The stage is consumed by the regal, golden light- as ethereal and heavenly as God Himself. It is a universe of its own, separate from the world you know.

In the centre of the gazebo stands a man playing an iridescent violin. Beside him rests an ivory piano, and behind it sits a woman. They are beautiful and united, both dressed in simple white and basked in music and light.

It is unworldly. Unworldly as you realise that you are alone. Not a physical loneliness- no, this loneliness is not so simple.

This is your loneliness.

The realisation that we all live and die alone.

First, there is fear- A comprehension that all things are bigger than yourself. Then, comfort- knowledge of ineffable freedom; the right to find your place.

Yes, you are alone and insignificant- but you are free.

Free.

Free to make mistakes in your solitude, for the only cross you must bear is your own.

But then- For the moment, and for only this single, isolated moment, everyone is connected. For this moment, and for only this single, solitary moment, the symphony is all that has ever moment. For the moment, it is the only symphony that has ever existed. Nothing, absolutely nothing, was ever so pure or clear as the music you heard that night.

It is pure summer against a stark winter.

It is perfect.

It is home.

The man and the woman stand and link hands as they finish their song. Although they bow and the applause take wind, the lovers in the light remain separate from all else existing alongside one another but fiction against all else. They lean in for a kiss, but never quite touch. The lights dim, and the couple is lost. The ephemeral concert has ended.

You leave the park, your heart much lighter than before. As you empty unto the streets, you realise that it is dawn. The shops are opening once more to greet the new day. As you pass the electronics store, you see a weather report that calls for much needed warmth today. You begin to march towards tomorrow, homeward bound, with a light, self-assured bounce in your step that you had never had before.

In the years that follow, you often look back on the too-short symphony, unsure if you had been dreaming all along.