A/N: So this is the edit of the first chapter. Mozu the Mochi, my amazing beta reader, helped me with the edits. Thanks Mozu!

Mou ikkai.

One more time.

Mou ikkai.

Let me roll for one more day.

Mou ii kai?

Not yet. The future is still far away.

Iki wo tomeru no ima.

The piano is a beautiful instrument. There is one in the old music room down from my classroom, a little space with big windows. There are stands with music sheets on them, too, all over the room. Nobody's reading them though. Occasionally, the room has only one who plays in there, ever since the school got a new music room, one that is much bigger and has lights instead of windows.

That one person is a strange girl. I guess it's a secret that she plays the piano in there. Often, she looks around, wild eyes darting before she shuts the door quietly behind her.

But everyone in the hall can hear her play. The way she pounds on those keys. It's like she takes out her anger on them. She'll start quiet at first and then the music gets louder and louder until she stops right in the middle of the song. I don't know what happens after that. In my classroom only I can hear the repetitive melody, because I sit in the foremost back. Today, she plays the same song she always does every same time. It's not that bad actually; she's good at playing the piano. She just pounds on the keys.

I'm still waiting for the day she finishes the song. She makes it pretty far today - I thought she might be finishing her song. But then, she just stops once she can't hit the ivory keys any harder.

"Two minutes to dismissal, please gather your books and wait by the door."

Last period ends at three o'clock. I sling my full backpack over my shoulder after managing to fit my books and school necessities in it and walk toward the school exit along with other students. The murmur of voices echo through the halls but I don't take part in the conversation. It's not like I couldn't. It's just because I won't. I'm not too sociable at school.

In the crowd, I'm pushed to the edge and against the wall, to the doors of different rooms. But there is one I stop at, myself a rock rooted in a raging river.

The door to the old music room. Thoughts and questions that have never been in my mind before flood inside like a gushing stream of water. Thoughts like; has that strange girl gone home yet? What classes did she go to? Why was she in here during last period to play the piano anyway?

I stand there, debating on what to do. Nobody notices my being stuck in front of the abandoned room. They walk by without even bothering to spare a glance until the stream of teenagers slows to a trickle and dries out completely.

I decide to peek, just to see if she was still there.

The door creaks when I push it open a few inches and screeches when I shove it out to react to what I see.

The whole room is trashed. Shards and pieces of marble are scattered. Music sheets litter the tile, and the stands which once stood firm and proud are thrown all over to the floor. But in the middle of it all is that strange girl on her knees with her hands around her own neck.

I don't think and react impulsively, running from the doorway, dropping to my knees and pulling them away and holding them in my own.

"Are you okay?!"

Is she choking on something or strangling herself?

Wild blue eyes burn into my sockets. I have never gotten a good look at her face before. She is pale with dark bags under long eyelashes and bruises where her hands were. Odd blue hair is pulled into high pigtails which is strewn all over her back, the tresses caressing her ebony sweater and white dress shirt. Her expression; it's not clear. I hesitated upon looking. But something is telling me it is an expression akin to that of a lunatic.

She tries to pull her small hands back yet I hold on tight. They were so frail that I could almost feel like I could shatter the bones any time, if i applied stronger pressure to my grip. Then she starts whimpering, as if I am hurting her. Either that, or she is afraid of me. Tears are coming down her face rapidly. Hyperventilating, she gets on her feet and uses her weight to jerk out of my grasp.

By then, she has become a sobbing mess and I'm sitting there on my knees, clueless and trying to think of any attempt. She must be suicidal, or mentally challenged. Something that I have no idea how to help with.

It's that moment when I suddenly blurt the words out, "Do you need help?"

The girl's hands cover her eyes while she screams hysterically, her feet shuffling until her back hits against the wall. She scurries as far as she could from me as possible. Something is wrong. I have no idea what though. Damn it, I'm awful with girls in the first place. How am I supposed to help one who's delirious?

She doesn't respond to my question; just falls to the ground again. At least she isn't choking herself, though.

"Umm…" I think about comforting her, going for help, or leave the room and forget it ever happened.

Suddenly, she lunges at me. The next moment, she's straddling me with her hands on my neck. Not that she's strangling, there is no applied pressure after all, just having them there and her wild stare focused on my eyes.

"Mou ikkai," she says, determined, and gives a good push with her albeit weak hands. The force too much, she presses on my airway until I can't breathe and I feel my remaining breath flies away like a flitting breeze. I start to sweat and my vision grows fuzzy. I didn't even attempt to fight back.

The one thing I can see are those odd blue eyes. They're crazed. They're not murderous but not exactly sane either. Her tears drip onto my face, warm on contact and slipping off my own cheeks.

She looks at me like I'm her problem and I need to get ridden of.

It's that exact moment you're not really thinking because you're being strangled by a girl you're not acquainted with, who's crying her lungs out and possibly doesn't speak English . I don't think to push her off, I don't think she was going to kill me, it's just an 'in the now' thing.

She hiccups and wipes her face, giving me a second to breathe. Then she gets up from me and runs out from the room.

For a good five minutes I lay on the floor, panting and gasping and absolutely rendered speechless. I wipe the salty tears that don't belong to me off my face. The incident is was certainly something else. Wait. Maybe I'm under-reacting. The person who attempted murder is clearly a mentally unstable girl. At least, that is what I analyzed from her quirky behavior. I found myself to be slightly concerned about her. Is anyone helping her? What class does she go to? Should I ask someone about this?

Tomorrow, I decide, I am going to ask the counselor about this girl. After I clean this place up.

But I wonder if I'd hear the piano tomorrow.