So I may have binge-watched "Your Lie in April" and I may have freaked out. A lot. The story was just gorgeous and compelling and classical music is my jam and I became super attached to Kousei and Kaori to the point I called Kaori 'my baby' and just ugh I haven't cried so much watching an anime series in a long time.
I like to think that maybe, somewhere along the way, not only was Kaori in love with Kousei, but she wanted the best for him. She wanted to heal as much of the psychological damage as his mother gave him as she could, and provide him with a way to deal with it after her death.
I do not own "Your Lie In April", Naoshi Arakawa does. I also do not own "Hikaru Nara", the lovely opening theme for the first few episodes; that honor belongs to Goose house. Please enjoy.
Kaori Miyazono was more observant than most people gave her credit for. Of course, as a musician, she paid exquisite attention to details of the scores she would enchant people with. It was her most important job. But she also noticed people. She saw nuances even the most detail-oriented grown-up would've missed.
For example, Kousei Arima. She witnessed his transition from musical automaton to a manic pianist, worthy of challenging her incredible yet erratic skills. She knew more of Kousei's life in a month than his best friends Tsubaki and Watari did. She picked up on the tremor in Kousei's hands when any one of them brought up his mother, terminal illness, or black cats. She would see the smile on his lips finally reach his eyes when he watched her play. When she became hospital-bound, she didn't miss the way he would purposely try to avoid visiting her. That part made her sadder than everything else.
Being confined to a hospital bed had given Kaori a lot of time to reflect. It was exhausting reassuring Tsubaki and Watari that she was fine, that she was just a little tired and would be her old self again soon.
Kousei didn't believe that lie. Kaori was a world-class liar when she needed to be, but Kousei saw through every lie and wouldn't believe her for a second. At least, he didn't believe her where it counted.
Kaori lay back down in her hospital bed and sighed.
Oh, Kousei.
She had admired him for so long from afar that now he seemed like a dream, her health issues aside. Her world had been neutral-toned and monochrome for so long. It was refreshing to have his splash of color. Kaori imagined details she knew could never be: the feel of Kousei's hand, voluntarily in hers. His forehead resting against hers. His lips pressed to her cheek. The detail she wanted most: a kiss from Kousei, directly on her lips.
She also thought about Kousei's past and his potential future. Kaori yearned to be Kousei's entire future. The two of them, living in an apartment near her parents' bakery. Having two or three musically-inclined children and playing their instruments, all day long, to their hearts' content. Kaori, growing gray-haired by Kousei's side and sleeping together in the same bed, hands clasped together. Tears sprang to Kaori's eyes. She would never get her wish. But she could ensure Kousei could have a future he could embrace.
Kaori wanted Kousei to herself in the worst way. But she also remembered the way Tsubaki's eyes glinted with jealousy. Kaori was annoyed with Watari's womanizing way, and his indifference to Kaori's music could be infuriating. Kaori wanted nothing but the best for Kousei. She wanted to undo the damage his mother had inflicted on him. But to take him for herself, while she was in the hospital like this, and was certain to die, would be cataclysmic for Kousei.
If Kaori were selfless, she would let Kousei go. She would push him into Tsubaki's wanting arms instead of keeping him for herself. Kaori knew how her story would end; the doctors had told her enough times. She and her parents had already prepared their mourning, but no one else had the opportunity to say goodbye. She wouldn't let Kousei be torn apart again, not if she could help it. She was only prolonging the inevitable, she knew, but it would give her some peace of mind.
Saki Arima had been cruel to help her son learn how to survive in the world. Instead of helping Kousei, she had instilled a crippling fear into him: failure was a monstrous entity to be feared. Failure meant being as good as dead.
Kaori felt this attitude emanating from Kousei, and it made her extremely sad. Kousei was the most brilliant musician she had ever known and to see him give up on his lifeblood so willingly was devastating. She wanted him to realize failure was an opportunity to be embraced. Failure meant getting back up and performing even better than his best, to dare the audience not to applaud when he had finished astounding them.
She wished she could've played for Kousei even more than she had. He had inspired her in a way nothing else had, and given her a purpose for her short fourteen years of life. The violin was the only balm she craved for her aching soul, and it soothed her dread. Kaori had come to grips with death, and had accepted her fate, but it didn't mean she looked forward to dying.
Her body ached for Kousei. The illness had progressed so far as to take away her ability to move her limbs freely, and she wanted Kousei to help her get a drink of water.
Lol so I'm not good with cliffhangers, but I feel like this is a story I could tell in three parts. More is coming, I just have to write it. ^^; I hope you enjoyed part one!