1 – Dal Niente

Kahoko Hino sighed.

Alone on a balcony of the summer house, she couldn't exactly describe how she was feeling. She was proud to have gotten this far without the help of magic – the Salut d'Amour she'd played just an hour ago was testament to that – but there was a sense of melancholy about it all. The concours was over. The school term was over. And in a few hours, the summer camp would be, too.

She started to wonder whether she would see her friends over the month-long break. Without a competition or a camp, there was no reason for them to meet up. The realization brought an ache to her chest.

But as a soft breeze ruffled her hair and brought music to her ears, she remembered something she'd learned months ago, barefoot on a stage, right when her journey had just begun to take flight:

For every parting, there was a new beginning.

"Just do it, Hihara."

Azuma Yunoki's tone held the usual gentle chide he'd use on his best friend, but this time, it had implications.

"Wh-What are you talking about, Yunoki?!" yelled Kazuki Hihara, his eyes wide with shock as Azuma's words stopped him in his tracks. He'd been pacing about their room, unconsciously mussing up his hair since they'd gotten back from dinner.

"Do you remember what I mentioned that time – right before I left for England?" Azuma asked calmly, cross-legged on the couch. "That we both had things we were keeping from each other?"

"Do you mean –"

"Yes, I've known your feelings for Hino-san for quite some time," Azuma chuckled.

"Whaaat, Yunoki? It's not like that!" Kazuki yelled, his cheeks reddening.

Azuma gave him a look.

Kazuki slumped onto his bed. "Have I been that obvious?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Oy, Yunoki…"

"If it makes you feel any better, I only noticed because I'm your best friend," Azuma laughed gently.

Kazuki's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"No."

"Yunoki!"

The two boys shared a laugh, and a few moments passed before a silence fell.

"What did you mean a while ago, though? What should I just do?" Kazuki asked.

"Only what you've been planning to do this whole camp: ask her out," Azuma answered serenely.

Kazuki, flushed, looked down and put his hand in his hair. "I'm not you, Yunoki. I don't have every girl in school chasing after me – it's not that easy."

Azuma looked at him directly. "This isn't about every girl. It's about Hino-san," he said pointedly. His words held so much gravity that Kazuki almost thought there was something else to them. "Be polite, but have a little confidence. Just make sure she understands how much it'd mean to you for her to say yes."

Kazuki's smile returned in full force. "As expected, the one and only Yunoki Azuma gives top-notch advice on girls." But then, after a pause, "What if she says no, though?"

It took a lot of effort for Azuma to smile as he said, "Her loss."

Azuma knew he could not ignore his own… fascination with Kahoko. But he also knew that in a few short months, he would be leaving the country for college. And he would have to forget not only her, but also his best friend. Better to let Kazuki have her than make it harder for any of them when the time came.

"Yunoki? Yuuuunoki!" Kazuki said.

"Ah – sorry, Hihara," Azuma replied.

"It's not like you to space out like that," Kazuki said, his usual energy fully returned, "But anyway, I was just thanking you for the advice. I'm going to ask her tonight!"

Kazuki's huge smile could only be met by a sad one from Azuma, because, though his resolve had been set, he couldn't overlook the distinct feeling of jealousy.

Maybe Kazuki was going to take his doll away soon, but that didn't mean Azuma couldn't play a bit until then.

Ryotaro Tsuchiura was usually a heavy sleeper, but tonight, he was wide awake.

Alone in a practice room just barely lit by the moon, his fingers fell like leaden raindrops on the keys of a grand piano.

Stress was eating at him. The day before he'd left for the summer camp, he'd walked into Minami Instruments hoping to get a little practice in.

Instead, he'd witnessed Minami packing sheet music and tuning forks into cardboard boxes.

"Minami-san! What's going on?" Ryotaro asked.

"Oh, closing. Just that it's permanent this time," the shopkeeper said.

"What?! You can't! This place is – it's –" Ryotaro couldn't form words past his shock.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but you, Hino-san, and that Tsukimori boy are the only people ever in this old place," the old man chuckled. It pained Ryotaro that he could be so jovial when something so terrible was happening.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Ryotaro asked, trying to stay his temper.

"It wouldn't have changed anything, Ryo. You can't deny that classical music just isn't as popular these days – and with a small shop in a location like this, well, it was bound to happen."

Ryotaro took a deep breath. There was no use getting angry. Someone very important to him had taught him that it was better to face the truth head on. "When is the actual closing date?"

"Oh, still a month from now," Minami said, taping up a box. "I've paid the rent until then, but I figured that since no one's buying and this is store is just a hobby for me, I'd be better off donating these things and spending more time with my family. The earlier the better."

Ryotaro took one look at the place and made up his mind. There were so many memories within those four walls – not just from his childhood, but also… with her. He grabbed the tape Minami-san was reaching for right off the table.

"Are you going to help pack up, Ryo? I'd really appreciate –"

"Please don't close this store"! Ryotaro said, bowing. "Too many important things happened here for it to be gone. Please – just let it stand through the month, and if the profits still don't break even, I'll leave you alone. That's all I ask."

Minami looked up at him and his expression softened. "Ryo… I've already got work closer to home. I won't be able to tend this place next week."

"Then I'll work here!" Ryotaro said, his head flicking up with resolve. "I know this place inside and out, and I've handled money before – I can manage."

"Don't you have soccer practice, though?"

Ryotaro paled. He'd completely forgotten. "I can –"

"Kiddo, don't waste your summer break on this. I'm sorry that you feel so bad about it, but I'm afraid it's just not worth it."

"It's worth it to me," Ryotaro said, his voice unwavering. "Look, please just stop packing. I'm leaving tomorrow, but I'll be back before your new job starts. I promise I'll have a solution by then. Please, Minami-san. Give me a chance."

Minami looked at him, and for a moment he saw a green-haired kid no taller than the piano, quick-minded but quicker-fingered. He was the one with the fiery temper to match his blazing passion.

It was in Minami Instruments where that passion reignited, Ryotaro thought to himself. But it wasn't just the setting that mattered. There was something else – someone else involved.

And if Kahoko could reinvigorate the music in his life, she could do the same for a little shop in the middle of nowhere.

"Tomorrow?"

Not many things frazzled Len Tsukimori. Off the top of his head, he could only think of two – one of them being interaction with kids.

"I'm sorry for the trouble, Len," answered Misa Hamai from the other end of the phone line. "The instructor just called in sick, and your father is abroad – there's no one else I can ask with this short of a notice."

"… It's all right, Mother," he answered, "I-I know how much this workshop means to you."

"Thank you so much, Len," his mother replied. "I'm so proud of you. How you've begun to open up – you and your music."

Len's eyes widened. He was aware of the recent… changes that his playing had undergone, and though he valued them, he'd thought them very subtle.

Then again, he was also aware that his mother often proved to be more perceptive of him than he himself.

"Len?" she asked, breaking the static silence.

"Sorry," he sighed. "It's just – I'm not sure I'm quite comfortable teaching children alone." He pinched the bridge of his nose, recalling his escapades at Ousaki-senpai's lesson. There were still many questions from that day left unanswered.

"Oh, you don't have to go alone! Why don't you ask your friends from the concours? Hino-san plays the violin, doesn't she?"

Len sighed again. So that's what this was about. He should've known.

"I believe she'd require as much teaching as the children," he said. His tone held his usual formality, but his mother didn't miss the hint of fondness behind it.

"It's up to you, Len," she said kindly. "Oh, by the way – the director of the ocean park extends his thanks to you for cheering up the dolphin. I'm glad to hear it went well on your second try. I wonder you did differently?"

Len's eyes widened just a bit, but he quickly composed himself. "I believe I selected a more uplifting piece."

"Hmm, is that so," his mother replied coyly. Len chastised himself again – of course the director would have told her that he didn't come alone.

"I have to go now, Mother. Thank you for calling – and good night."

Len, exasperated, hung up and furrowed his brow. Ever since the day of the charity concert, his mother had become less and less subtle about her offhand remarks about a certain red-haired violinist. As he leaned against a pillar looking out at the garden, though – Len had never been much of a pacer – he could not bring himself to regret inviting her.

And as said violinist crossed his peripheral vision, following the faint sound of a cello, Len said under his breath, "Hino… You're frazzling thing number two."

On nights like these, Keiichi Shimizu's hands moved on their own.

He sat on a stone bench in the garden, cello between his legs, playing a serene tune that seemed to encapsulate both the moonlight above him and the gentle breeze around him. His light hair bounced about his head as his arm brought the bow back and forth.

"Shimizu-kun?" said a soft voice from behind one of the bushes. He didn't have to open his eyes to know who it was. He put his bow down as the song finished.

"Kaho-sempai," he said softly, listening to her footsteps.

"What are you doing out here in your pajamas?" she asked, giggling.

He slowly opened his eyes to look down at himself. "I… I'm in pajamas?"

"Eh? You didn't notice?" she asked, moving to sit beside him.

"I was asleep… then I dreamed of this song… then I was playing it… down here."

"You're a sleep-cellist?" she asked, open-mouthed. Then she started laughing. "That's kind of incredible!"

"Kaho-sempai… were you listening?"

"Mm. It was so lovely – I heard it all the way from the balcony. What's it called?" she asked.

He slowly turned to look at her. "I don't know."

"Huh?"

"It's just… something I… made up."

"Wow, Shimizu-kun!" she exclaimed, the wonder in her eyes making Keiichi smile. "I didn't know you had a talent for composing. I'm so jealous."

"These melodies… I started to make them… when I met you, Kaho-sempai."

She flushed, and then asked, "Wait – there are more of them? That's amazing!"

"I've… forgotten most of them…"

"Huh? Shimizu-kun, you can't let these songs go to waste! They're really beautiful – you should let others hear them." The sincerity in her tone made Keiichi gaze straight at her.

"I… like to play once… then set the feeling free," he said.

A confused expression settled on Kahoko's face. "What feeling?"

"If it makes Kaho-sempai happy… though… I'll try to remember."

Despite her question being ignored, Kahoko smiled and brought out her cell phone. "Thank you, Shimizu-kun. But I'm sure it'd be easier to remember with a recording," she giggled.

"This is the sheet music… in my heart," he said, a new wave of inspiration flooding him.

He unleashed one of his angelic smiles and began to play.