"Music is the silence between the notes."
~ Claude Debussy ~


Tsubaki hates music.

She hates it.

It brings pain, and loneliness, and it just seems to take, and take, and take without ever being satisfied.

She hates music because of what it meant to Kousei. Music was a burden. It was something his Mom had forced on him, time and time again. It was something that trapped him. That dragged him so far down into himself, that he couldn't even muster the strength to look up. Music was something that caused Kousei to cry, music was one of the only things that caused Kousei to cry.

So she hates it.

But.

But Kousei loves music.

He doesn't realize it, of course. Kousei could be so blind when it came to himself. But Tsubaki knew Kousei, had always known Kousei. And she knew that the only time his eyes ever sparkled was when he was playing.

Kousei loves music so much that he forgot to eat, that he forgot to sleep, when working on a new piece.

And no matter what he told himself, or her, Tsubaki knew that he missed it. That he longed for it.

Maybe that's why she'd agreed.

She knew that Kousei was going to be pissed at her. That he'd avoid her eyes, and sit there silently. That he'd fume, and grumble, and probably wouldn't talk to her for awhile...and why should he? Tsubaki knew what he'd gone through, knew why he would never willingly step foot into Towa Hall. If anyone should be on his side, it should be her.

But what does she agree to do?

Drag him to a classical music competition, force him to sit next to her and watch a could-have-been life. Force him to acknowledge the memories that he's so carefully locked away.

But.

But.

Kousei loves music.

And Tsubaki would be fine if he gave up piano. If he chose to walk away and never touch a key. She'd be more than fine, she'd be ecstatic...but only if it was his choice.

Only if it was because he hated music.

And he doesn't.

So she doesn't let him give up. It carves at her, reaches up towards her heart, and strangles it with fear, (because music always takes him away) but she doesn't let him give up.

Not yet.

Still, it doesn't change the fact that Tsubaki hates music.


Kousei is like her silly kid brother.

Tsubaki had known Kousei since they were kids, and all that time it had been him relying on her. It was her job, she'd realized, to look after Kousei. Because no body else was willing, or bothering, to do so.

Whether that meant pushing him off a bridge, or carrying him home, or making him mudballs. Whether that meant braving his scary mommy, or sitting really still at all his competitions (even when the other kids were being so mean!) Whether that meant hours, and hours of piano music echoing in her room (no, she didn't ask her mommy for the bedroom next to Kousei's practice room, thank you!) It didn't matter, Tsubaki would do it all.

Because it was her job.

It was her job to help Kousei in all of those little ways that he didn't - doesn't - even realize.

And it doesn't stop just because Kousei lies about loving music. It doesn't stop just because Kousei doesn't have a mommy - a mom - any more. It doesn't stop just because she doesn't have to sit still at any more competitions (even if she does kind of miss it).

So when Kaori admits to wanting Kousei as her accompanist Tsubaki decides to help. After all Kousei is like her silly kid brother, and the idiot may not realize he needs the help, but Tsubaki knows better.

So, even though he fights, even though he runs, and hides, and covers his ears, Tsubaki doesn't let up. She plasters his world with sheet music, with a language that she can't even read. She steals his phone and puts it up as his wallpaper. She helps Kaori set up the track in the school's music room.

Because he needs this.

At least, Kaori says he needs this. And Kaori speaks music. So Tsubaki helps, and banks on Kaori's knowledge, because she'd run out of ideas herself. And this seems like it might actually have a chance of working. And isn't it a big sister's job to take care of their little brother?

Even when they don't want the help?

Tsubaki likes to think so.

So she pushes, and pushes and...and Kousei actually agrees.

He hasn't practiced, they haven't practiced, but Kaori doesn't seem to care, and it's her competition, so Tsubaki keeps quite. She's not sure how to feel when they leave for backstage, it had been years since Tsubaki had to watch Kousei leave for backstage. Had to watch Kousei go to a place she could never follow.

But this time he wasn't alone. This time he had Kaori, and that was better, right? A big sister should be happy as long as her brother is happy, right? No matter who makes him happy?

Then, why...

No.

Tsubaki is happy that he's finally returning to the stage. Not because she likes music (she hates music) but because Kaori said this was good for Kousei, that this would make him happy. And there was nothing that Tsubaki wanted more than for her "little brother" to be happy.


Tsubaki doesn't care if Kousei leaves, really she doesn't.

So he wants to go to some fancy music school when last April he couldn't even hear himself play, so he drops this on her with absolutely no fanfare, so he plans to move to another prefecture (if not Overseas) when they'd been neighbors since practically forever...so what!

She doesn't care.

She's never cared.

Besides, it was kind of her fault to begin with.

Hadn't she known this was coming? Hadn't she always known? Even when they were kids, music was always taking him away. And not just taking up his time. Tsubaki could have dealt with that. Could have dealt with Kousei never playing outside, always practicing. She could have dealt with all of that if didn't take him away...even when they were together.

Back then it was Europe. Europe and his mom. Everything was to make his mom better, to make his mom smile, to make her happy, to make her healthy. And how could he do that?

He could get good enough to go to Europe.

And Tsubaki had been young, but she had been old enough to understand that Europe meant away. And how was that fair? She had to give her friend up to music because it made him happy, well it made him happy to make his mom happy. But she couldn't even get him back when he was done? She had to give him up to Europe?

But Tsubaki didn't care.

If Kousei wanted to leave, if leaving would make him happy, then she'd never ask him to stay. Because then she wouldn't want him to stay. Not if staying would steal the sparkle from his eye.

And that had been back when they were kids. Back when they were young and Tsubaki didn't understand why but she did understand alone. She finds it funny, in a not-funny-never-tell-Kousei, kind of way, but she finds it funny that Kousei hates people leaving him, that he fears it, because she always felt like it was him who was leaving them.

At the very least, it was always him who was walking away from her.

Always his back that she saw getting further, and further away.

Sometimes Tsubaki wondered if he even saw her. If he even knew that she was there. If in his world of notes, and music, and scales she registered as anything more than silence. Or maybe that was her job, if music was all the noise and the emotions, and the tears, laughter, crazy that was life...maybe Tsubaki was meant to be the rests.

The beats.

Maybe Tsubaki was there to break up Kousei's world of music. Just a little, just a bit at a time. Just so he could catch his breath, and the audience could sit in anticipation.

But he was leaving. He was going away, and, and Tsubaki didn't care. If he stayed, if he left, it didn't matter. He could go off on his own for all it bothered her! And leave his rests behind!

Because maybe he didn't need them anymore.

She didn't know much about music; rests, and notes, and chords, is about all the language she has at her disposal. But she'd heard fast paced-songs before, notes that just seemed to fly off the piano. It never started like that, of course, it always started slow, soft, as if to lull you into complacency.

You get used to the trade off, notes and emptiness, soft and quiet...but then it starts to speed up. It picks up (Tsubaki is sure there's a word for it). Anyway, it gets faster and the notes chase off all the rests until the entire song is a chase. No a dance...a waltz! That's what it's called!

But a waltz normally has a partner, yet Tsubaki has no doubt that Kousei would waltz alone. Whether on piano or on a dance-floor. There would be no place for her, and no place for her 'rests'.

In fact, Tsubaki rather thinks that describes their entire friendship, their entire relationship. Kousei just became more, and more, until he took up the whole song, and there was no more place for her...or, rather, her only place was in the beginning. It was beautiful, and it was sad, and it was only there to set up the rest of the piece...

But doesn't it slow down in the end as well?

Well, perhaps Tsubaki doesn't care...but that doesn't mean she has to give up either. Kousei still needs her, she's sure of it, and if not, she still needs him so she'll study, and study, and hopefully, maybe, they can still be neighbors. Sort of. School neighbors.

But she really, really doesn't care.


"...and then, I told exactly one lie."

Kousei isn't quite sure how to react to Kaori's letter.

"Do you want to hear it?"

He'd been reading, and re-reading it his entire walk home.

"It's a doozy!"

Trying to make sense, one last time, of this enigma of a violinist.

"Alright, here goes!"

Trying to understand, why she couldn't have just told him the truth, couldn't have just-

"Kaori loves Watari."

But, he also knows, she did tell him. Every time they practiced, every time she drew her bow across the strings. In everything she is, and everything she was, she told him;

"I love you. I love you. I love you!"

And yet he had managed to miss it. Managed to completely overlook the obvious. Why? Because he thought he could never get the girl? Because she'd told a lie? Because he'd been too wrapped up in his own drama?

No. Well, maybe...but that wasn't all of it.

He couldn't tell, because she hadn't wanted him to know. Had done everything in her power to keep him from figuring it out. Claiming to be waiting for Watari, calling him "friend A". And, of course, there was all the verbal abuse, the pushing him to not visit her, "practice" she had demanded, "play."

And maybe it had been a kindness, a final act of good will on her part.

That single lie.

Maybe it had started as a way to get close to Kousei, to finally play a song with him. But, Kousei was willing to bet that it became a way to keep that pianist. Not for herself, if she'd wanted that she would have just told the truth. No, not for herself, but for the world. Because Kousei isn't too sure that he would have been able to keep playing if they'd gotten even closer.

If Kaori had become more than a muse.

So maybe it was her way of being kind, it sure sounds like something she would do. Still...it doesn't change the fact that it hurts. Not that she lied, but that he couldn't tell. That he could never tell. He had never been able to read her, and now he could never learn how. Not like...

"Kousei!"

Tsubaki.

"Kousei, you jerk! Don't you dare think I'm going to leave you, you hear?!"

I hate you.

"You're stuck with me, okay?!"

I hate music.

"Just like superglue!"

You're like my kid brother.

"You and me, until the end of time!"

I don't care if you stay, or if you go.

"So get used to it!"

And it's all Kousei can do to hide his smile...because, if Kaori told one lie, just the one, then Tsubaki has told a million. Every day since the day they've met, and he bets she'll continue to say them until the day they die, because that's who she is.

But it's okay, because he'd always been able to read her.

Please, don't leave me alone.

And he would have all the time in the world to drag the truth out of her.

I don't know what to call us.

Bit-by-bit, sentence-by-sentence, getting her to admit the things he'd never known.

I love when you play piano.

But yet, had also somehow, always known.

I, Kousei, I...

"Tsubaki? Thank you."


"Who cares about music? Who cares about words?
We have all the time that we've spent together.
All those precious memories of all the little things."

~ Sawabe Tsubaki ~