"Can you live without playing the violin?" he asks. His cerulean fringe did little to shield his piercing gaze.
Hino steps back, startled by his query.
"Can you stand not being able to play the violin?" he inquires as he glides closer to her.
"I…I" she stammers.
"What about your fingers or your heart? Will you really be all right if you never play the violin again?"
"I'll be fine!" she insists. "I don't really have any interest in classical music. And as for the violin…" Her sentence trails off, lost in the shuddering of her shoulders.
"As for the violin…" he repeats with downcast eyes.
"I don't like the violin!" she insists.
He is shocked by her violent denial. "So then, why are you crying?"
She lifts her gaze and is shocked to feel the warmth of the tears huddling upon the branches of her eyelashes.
"Aren't those tears your true feelings?"
She shakes her head. "That's not it…I'm…You're wrong!" She flees the classroom, seeking refuge from the truths she dare not face.
"Hino!"
He hears her running footfall echo through the hallway, punctuated by her sobs.
"Hino…"
Hino sits in the waiting room of the auditorium, gently caressing the smooth body of her violin. Each touch communicates the overpowering emotions she feels towards her partner. It is the day of the final selection, and she is paralysed by the suffocating nerves. Thinking back on that day in the classroom with Tsukimori, she is frightened not only by her denial of her passion for violin and music, but also by Tsukimori's insight into her heart. He gazed into the depths of her being with as much ease as he would read a concerto.
She would be forever indebted to Tsukimori, because his words had achieved what no one else's seemed to do. His questioning had pierced through her despair and demonstrated how important music had become to her. In that final moment before turning her back on violin forever, his rendition of Ave Maria echoed across the schoolgrounds and brought clarity to her soul. She was never going to quit again, she could never deny the true feelings of her heart. She would walk forward on her own two feet and perform to the best of her ability, however slight it may be.
She felt her stomach rebel with anxiety, but tried to remain calm so she could fully enjoy the other competitors' performances.
Yunoki entrance on the stage is accompanied by adoring squeals from his battalion of fans. The crowd breaks into silence as he rests his lips on his flute. His elegant fingers glide along the flute, giving body to Rachimaninov's composition. His melody floats in the air, displaying beauty but indicating hidden depths beneath the surface.
"How like Yunoki-senpai" observes Hino. "When he performs he can show his true form. He can shine through the perfect veneer that is required of him by his family and by the expectations of him as the youngest son."
Hihara takes the stage next, his earnest smile greeting the audience. His powerful breath rattles the air, the notes embedding themselves into the chests of the audience, seeping pleasure throughout the body.
Hino smiles at his performance. "His only desire is for people to share in his enjoyment of music. His attitude is contagious and his will warrants him to persist in elevating the mood of everyone around him."
Fuyuumi glides onto the stage with a newly acquired confidence. She leaps into the playful tune of her Clarinet Polka, swaying her body with the bounce of the staccato.
"She really has grown up, little Fuyuumi-chan. She has managed to shed her crippling shyness and anxiety, revealing a mature, light-hearted personality to the world."
The huge baroque cello dwarfs Shimizu as he ambles onto the stage. He bows his head in reverence as he embraces the contours of the large instrument. Blonde locks brush against his forehead as he loses himself in the blossoming music.
"His passion for music never fails to amaze me, it's inspiring. He is so wholly engulfed in the world of music that his presence in reality is ethereal. He taught me the worth of my music and the importance of the sheet music within our hearts."
Tsukimori strides across the stage with a confidence conceived by the belief he has in himself and in his abilities. He poses proudly on the stage with his violin astride his outstretched arm. He plunges into the piece, his deft fingers commanding the taut strings along the wooden neck.
"His music is perfection, as always, but I can feel the power and gentleness echoing in my heart. I owe him so much for bestowing upon me the gift of music. His tenacity has urged me forward, forcing me to come to terms with my own passions. His eyes discerned the truth in my heart before I was even conscious of it."
The tails of Tsuchiura's jacket billow as he lowers himself onto the piano stool. His large frame appears relaxed and peaceful in front of the toothy keys. The hall explodes with the strength of La Campanella. His lithe fingers pirouette across the ivory, leaping across the ebony.
"I'm relieved that he returned to piano, the world would be dimmer without his music in it. His music conveys all of his best qualities: his strength, his warmth and his compassion."
Finally, it is Hino's turn to take the stage. She gently bows to the audience and raises her violin to her neck. This is her companion, her irreplaceable thing, the mirror of her heart. She sweeps the bow across the strings and feels the sound resonate through her body. Her violin is talking to her; its words are bleeding through her being, inflaming nerves throughout her body. She can discern the words, their force becoming increasingly powerful and urgent as she reaches the crescendo.
"Tsukimori…Tsukimori… Tsukimori."
She sees his face across her closed eyelids. She recalls the weight of his head on her shoulder, the heat from his hand on her wrist. The image of his expression of concern when protecting her fingers ignites her heart. Her body vibrates upon recollecting the impact of that first fateful day outside the music room window when his violin called to her, seduced her into loving music. Her soul dances with the memory of the moonlit night when their duet engulfed the camp and tore at the hearts of all the other musicians. She remembers his stern admonishment of her when she was ready to quit violin and deny herself. She smiles as she is reminded of his Ave Maria that once again beckoned to her when all other sounds were muted and brought her back to her own heart.
"Tsukimori."
He taught her how to love music, he taught her how to love the violin, he taught her how to love. This was her song for him. She was setting free all the emotions that had been burgeoning inside her. This was all for him.
Her mentor.
Her saviour.
Her love.
Her rival violinist.
The last note echoes throughout the auditorium, buffeting the audience with the strength of her love. She lowers her bow hand to the floor initiating an eruption of cheers and applause from the audience. Hino opens her tearful eyes and glances backstage. His eyes tear into hers with an obsessive intensity. She gazes back at him and smiles.