宮園かをり (Miyazono Kaori)
産：二千年七月四日 (b. 4 July 2000)
死：二千十五年二月十八日 (d. 18 February 2015)
The stone was a simple thing really. A small, rectangular granite slab carved with the name of one of the most radiant people ever to grace Towa Hall with her music. The name of a violinist whose flamboyant, out of control style never failed to capture the hearts of any but the stuffiest of competition judges who would deride her for deviating from the score, from the composer's intent, as though they somehow knew what that was hundreds of years after the piece's composition. The name of a musician whose impassioned notes would never again grace the ears of enraptured listeners, or the ears of the one she loved most. For this stone was not just any stone. It was a gravestone. The sole physical reminder that a girl named Miyazono Kaori had once lived here.
And before it kneeled a boy. A pianist who had impressed judges everywhere with his impeccable technical skill from the tender age of five. A child who had won competition after competition all while enduring taunts such as 'the human metronome', 'the machine' and worst of all, 'Arima Saki's puppet'. A genius who had lost the ability to hear his own piano and disappeared entirely from the music scene after the death of his abusive mother. A man who now mourned the loss of the one who had finally given his monotone world colour. Mourned the fact that never again would she stand on stage with him to enchant any audience. A boy named Arima Kousei.
Tears streaked his cheeks, making small circular imprints in the snow by the stone as the fell from his face. Today was February 25th, one week since her death. One week since their final ethereal duet. One week since he said goodbye forever. He had known the moment she appeared in his mindscape. The moment she appeared on that deep blue lake under an ocean of stars by a piano made of mirrors, he knew that this was the last time he would see her. Otherwise, why would she have been there, if she had not died?
"I won, you know." He spoke, with a tear freezing to his chin. "The competition. Everyone loved it. Even Aiza and Igawa were speechless. And the applause! I wish you could have been there to hear it."
He knelt in the snow for some time, silent, as the morning sun rose behind him, warming his back.
Did I reach you, Kaori? Was it really you? Did we-
"Arima-san?"
His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of a stranger speaking his name.
"You are Arima Kousei-san, yes?"
"Uh. Y-yes." He answered with a shaky voice as he rose from the ground, wiping the remaining tears from his face.
The stranger was a middle-aged man with short black hair, streaked with grey. He wore a brown coat over black trousers and a white shirt, accentuated by a grey tie. Kousei was uncomfortably aware of the dark water stains on the knees of his own usual blue suit. After sizing him up for a good thirty seconds, the stranger continued in a gravelly voice:
"I am Takahashi Yuuta, a representative of Towa Hall. You've been invited to perform in a memorial concert for Miyazono-san."
"Eh?"
"At the news of her death, our regular patronage demanded that we play a concert in her memory," frowning slightly, Takahashi seemed mildly peeved at this, "and we have decided to accede."
Takahashi reached into his jacket and pulled out a formal-looking envelope.
"Here is your invitation. Please respond by calling the number within, informing us of your decision and your piece of choice by March 1st."
He handed the envelope to a stunned Kousei before promptly turning on his heel and walking away, snow crunching under his boot heel.
"W-Wait!" Kousei called, following after Takahashi, "Who else is playing in this?"
The man stopped, almost causing Kousei to bump into him, and turned his head to answer over his shoulder.
"You are the only one to have been invited, though others among those who insisted that the concert be held will also be playing."
Now somewhat annoyed, Kousei glared at the Takahashi.
"Who?"
Sighing, the man turned around to face him fully.
"Seto Hiroko-sensei insisted immediately that she be allowed to play, though why Japan's leading pianist would waste her considerable talents on a concert dedicated to some middle-school brat, I don't know."
At this point, Kousei's fists were clenched in anger. Body quivering and eyes narrowing behind thick rimmed glasses, he was about to say something when Takahashi continued to speak:
"Beyond her, Igawa Emi, Aiza Takeshi and Aiza Nagi will be performing, along with a smattering of other middle schoolers who competed with her."
Leaning forward, Takahashi narrowed his eyes slightly and added:
"And not only did all of them insist that you perform, they have all also insisted that you be the finale. Any idea why? Surely Miyazono-san would have preferred a legend like Seto-sensei to end the night no?"
Blood approaching the boiling point, Kousei managed to hold in his anger and responded blandly,
"No, Takahashi-san. I don't know why."
"Hmph. Thought so," Takahashi grunted as he turned once more and walked out of the cemetery.
I'll show him. We'll show him what music is.
When Takahashi was out of sight, Kousei opened the envelope.
Most of it was just as Takahashi had told him, but the date drew his eye:
'Date and Time – 4th April 2015, 7:00pm – 9:30pm'
Kousei looked up into the falling snow. Feeling the cold on his face he thought:
That fateful day huh. It'll have been one year exactly since we met.
Just you watch Kaori, I won't let you down.
"Aaahh it was so good of Seto-sensei to get us these complementary tickets!" Tsubaki peeped as she pushed open Towa Hall's double doors.
Immediately upon entering with Kousei, Watari, his goofy smile plastered to his face as usual, and Kashiwagi, ponytail swishing in the breeze from the doors, however, Tsubaki noticed that it was fuller than she had ever seen it before, despite the number of concerts and competitions she had attended here. Everywhere you could hear people rifling through programmes and whispering.
"Did you hear?"
"Seto-san is playing today?"
"But why would she play at some unknown's memorial concert?"
"It seems she had some connection to the girl."
"She's the finale right?"
"Ugh, we have to sit through a bunch of middle-schoolers before her…"
"Wait, a moment, she's not the finale. Some kid named Arima Kousei is doing the finale!"
"Huuuuh?"
"Who is this kid?"
Eventually she blocked it out and instead tried to soothe Kousei who would almost certainly be nervous. After all, this was the biggest audience for whom he had ever played.
"Don't worry, Kousei. You'll be fine." She muttered, "Don't let their whispering get to you."
"Hmm? Who's whispering?" he answered.
Somewhat surprised, Tsubaki turned to look at Kousei's face. He seemed totally relaxed and at peace.
"Y-You're not worried at all, Kousei-kun?" she stammered, still shocked at Kousei's unworried face and posture.
"No. Not at all." He smiled. "Kaori would never forgive me if I messed up at her concert because I was nervous again, right?"
"Y-yeah. I guess."
How can he smile so sincerely now of all times?
"Anyway," Kousei continued, turning towards the backstage door, "I need to join the other performers."
He walked away, waving to his friends.
"See you after the concert!"
Suddenly, Kashiwagi appeared next to Tsubaki, who had not even realised she had walked away.
"I got us some programmes." She said in her usual bored voice.
"AAAH! Where did you come from?" Tsubaki jumped half a metre into the air as she squealed.
"Uhhh… over there?" Kashiwagi answered, pointing to a thirty-something lady in a suit jacket and miniskirt handing out programmes by the box office.
Immediately, Watari blew up and ran over there to talk to her, screaming something about beautiful mature women along the way. Tsubaki and Kashiwagi sighed defeatedly.
The next half an hour until the doors to the concert hall opened passed quite uneventfully, except to absolutely nobody's surprise, Watari was hitting on all of the women (and their daughters) in the hall. But that was business as usual and didn't concern Tsubaki in the slightest. Instead as the three entered the hall, she remarked on something she noticed in the programme.
"Hey guys, look at this." The brunette said as Watari and Kashiwagi gathered around her to see what she was talking about. She was pointing to the spot below where Hiroko's multitude of achievements was listed. The programme read:
'12. (Finale) Arima Kousei
2015 Eastern Japan Piano Competition Middle School Division Champion
Son of famed pianist Arima Saki, who unfortunately died of illness in the autumn of 2012.
Chosen Piece: Totentanz (Piano Solo) – Franz Liszt'
"Toten… tanz. Wait, doesn't that mean Dance of Death in German?" asked a surprised Watari, "What's Kousei thinking playing something like that?"
When he didn't receive an immediate answer, he looked up to see Kashiwagi and Tsubaki looking at him with totally astounded looks on their faces.
"… Since when did you know any German?" asked Kashiwagi, before shaking Tsubaki out of her stupor.
As they sat down in their red polyester seats, Watari shyly muttered something about having picked up a little from his dad who had spent some time in Europe.
"Still. It's a little strange," murmured Tsubaki, "It sounds very dark for a concert for someone as lively as Kaori…"
Kashiwagi seemed about to respond, but was interrupted as the MC walked on stage and began to announce the beginning of the concert.
"Welcome ladies and gentlemen to this Towa Hall for the Miyazono Kaori Memorial Concert. We are here today to mourn the passing and celebrate the life of a talented young violinist who…."
And he droned on for some time, Tsubaki wondering how the hell anyone could make a person as bright as Kaori seem so boring until….
"And our first performer is Miike Toshiya, who, with his accompanists, will be performing the acclaimed Gypsy Trio by Joseph Haydn.
And thus, the Memorial Concert began with a happy tune that as the notes from the piano, violin and cello filled the air reminded a select few of a bubbly young girl who had been a close friend, even for a short time.
Time went on as the concert progressed. While Miike's performance had been impressive, much of the remainder of the concert was less so, with the exception of Aiza Nagi's stellar performance of Chopin's Waltz in C# Minor Op. 64 No. 2, until the arrival of Aiza Takeshi and Igawa Emi in the ninth and tenth slots respectively. The soft, haunting opening movement and joyous second followed by the Presto Agitato of the third movement of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata as performed by Aiza left the audience speechless, almost forgetting to applaud. Then Igawa's soulful rendition of Mozart's Rondo in A Minor K511 left not a dry eye in the hall. However, it was Hiroko who truly blew the audience away.
She performed Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, which, through the mournful Lassan opening, emphasised the sadness of Miyazono's passing. This opening theme, played in multiple keys and in a rapidly increasing tempo however, before the very opening was recapitulated, set the mood for what was to come. This sorrowful mood, played in the saddest of keys, C# Minor, persisted for most of the first half of the piece, while occasionally interspersed with happier moments, whereas suddenly in the second half the playful Friska played in F# Major, provided Hiroko with the perfect opportunity to display her own skill and allude to the free flowing and creative style of the departed violinist. In a particular, unusual move, Hiroko decided to accept the composer's invitation to play her own cadenza towards the climax of the piece, paying perfect homage to Kaori's determination to make her music her own. As the final chord faded the entire, sold-out concert hall burst into applause that did not fade for quite some time. People had seemingly forgotten that there was yet another performer.
When finally the applause died, the MC announced that Arima Kousei would come on stage to perform the finale of the concert.
Tsubaki watched as the blue-haired youth walked on to the stage, wearing his usual blue suit, silently cheering on her friend, when strangely, instead of moving to sit at the piano, he went to the MC's lectern and was handed the microphone. Immediately people began whispering, though she could not make out what was said.
"Good evening, everyone." Kousei began, and silence fell immediately. With a steady voice he continued.
"I would like to thank you all for coming tonight. My name is Arima Kousei and before performing the final piece I would like to say a few words about Miyazono Kaori."
"Miyazono Kaori was very special to me. She was everything that Hagaro-san mentioned at the beginning of the evening, and much more. She was more than just a talented violinist. She was absolutely determined to be remembered by all who heard her play. She entered competitions not to win, but instead to try to reach the hearts of those in the audience. She poured her very soul into her violin and I don't think anyone who ever experienced one of her performances could ever forget the unimaginable feeling one gets when they hear her play."
As the speech began, Tsubaki began to feel her face grow hot and tears form in her eyes.
"But that's not why I'm here tonight. I'm here today, playing the piano because of her. She came into my life at a very dark time, a time where I had stopped playing for over two years, and saw the world devoid of colour, as I could no longer hear my own piano. Kaori was the one who kicked, punched and dragged me back on to the stage, and taught me that there is more to music that just following the score exactly as it is written. 'Play it just as the composer intended', my mother used to say, as did the judges at the competitions I won as an elementary schooler. But really, who knows what the composer really intended? Who knows what kind of emotion they were trying to convey? What Kaori taught me when I played an ill-fated duet with her back in April of last year, was that I could make music my own. I did not need to be shackled by the score, and instead give myself over to the piano and let my own emotions ring out through the concert hall. Even as I could not hear my own playing, I learned to imagine what my emotions would sound like and poured everything I was into my music, from that point on."
At this point it became clear that Tsubaki was not the only one crying. Kashiwagi and Watari both had tears streaming down their faces and making no efforts to wipe them away.
"We were slated to play another duet, Kreisler's "Love's Sorrow", one day, but that was the day she fell ill and started her final stay in hospital. We never got to play together again as she was taken away from us far too young. It was to her, that my performance at the Eastern Japan Piano Competition was dedicated, on the day of her death. It was then that I truly understood what it was to be a musician. To let your very soul flow through your fingers into your instrument, and bare your emotions for all to hear. It was then, that I truly realised what she had shown me. That music is more powerful than words."
As his speech drew near to its conclusion, sorrow was plain on the young pianists' face, voice trembling with emotion as he gently grabbed the lectern for support.
"So I am not here today to mourn the loss of a talented young violinist who reached so many hearts with her infuriatingly free style of performance. I am here today to say my final goodbye to the girl who gave my life colour, on this day, the one year anniversary of the day we met. And it is with this in mind that I chose Franz Liszt's Totentanz to play for you all tonight. Thank you."
There was no sound in the concert hall as the youth Arima Kousei walked to the piano and sat. Anyone who was listening closely would have heard a soft prayer escape his lips.
And thus, the Dance of Death began.
There was tension in the air as the first low dissonant chords began to emerge. An image of a young boy, battered and bruised lying beneath his piano appeared in the minds of everyone in the hall. A brief pause. And the boy opened his eyes to a cascade of more dissonant notes running up and then down the piano at a speed even the finest of pianists would be envious of. A brief interlude of more low, slow dissonant notes and another blindingly fast passage ran up and down the piano.
The boy was fearing his next lesson. He could be seen practicing with the scornful eye of his mother watching over his shoulder as the left hand theme began and passed into the right as the other hand would play more increasingly fast accompanying passages to add to the turmoil in the piece. Another pause. And what sounds like a slow death march begins. The boy can be seen emotionlessly walking on stage at a piano competition, playing what his mother had set him. Exactly as the composer intended. This feeling continues for some time as the repeated octave chords in the left hand underscores the glissandi in the right.
You see, Kaori? This is what I was like. Playing without emotion, just playing because it would make mother well.
As the dance moved through its more passive parts it became clear that this young boy could not take much more of the pain being inflicted upon him. Such was the pain and agony being exuded by this fifteen year old's piano. The audience could hear the very moment his mother died, followed by the trauma of being a young pianist unable to hear himself play and with no one to turn to.
Then suddenly. Major chord arpeggi show. Suddenly, there is light in the world. Miyazono Kaori has appeared. A gentle, flowing melody pays homage to her style and reminds all who knew her of her kindness. It is, however, underscored by a deathly tune that foreshadows terrible things to come.
Again, the pain returns as the failed duet surfaces in the music's imagery. The teenage Arima can be seen to suffer under the pressure.
Here we are again, Kaori. I am so sorry for this. I am so sorry we couldn't give a performance we could live with.
As a fast minor melody subsumes the dissonant staccato, a small glimpse of the life Arima had with Kaori can be seen. They are working as hard as they can for an upcoming concert, Kaori clearly giving Arima a hard time of it as he is playing a piece he has not heard for two years.
Looking back, it really wasn't so bad.
High pitched chords like a horde of spiders crawling across walls interrupt this delicate feeling. Kaori has fallen ill. That is why she did not appear at the recital. And yet, another Major passage. Here he is, spending time with Kaori in the hospital, enjoying the time they have together. The audience can almost visualise Kaori's fight against her disease as she vows to struggle until the very end.
Even with all the pain, those were good times weren't they?
At this point, the entire audience could see the tears falling freely from the young virtuoso's eyes. Everyone in the hall's attention was so completely focused on Arima Kousei that a bomb could have gone off outside and no one would have noticed.
The happy fight continues as Kaori practices for the competition that will gain him entry into Touhou Gakuen School of Music, as Kaori struggles to learn to walk again and agrees to have the surgery that may yet save her life. It can almost be believed that they will come through this and have a happy ending.
But tragedy strikes in the final minute of the piece. Arima is at the piano competition and all of the imagery reappears. Kousei at a piano made of mirrors, on a deep blue lake beneath an ocean of stars playing a duet with his beloved. The girl who once again gave meaning to his music and his life. Finally, following a fear inducing downward passage, in the last four chords of the piece there is Kaori's death and Kousei's final goodbye.
Kousei rises from his stool and bows to the audience, with no regard for the wetness and emotion on his face. There is total and complete silence. One could have heard a feather fall on a cushion in the far corner of the hall. And yet, he sees it all on their faces. Every face in the hall is streaked with tears, gratitude, awe and wonder painted on them all.
"How was that Kaori? Did I reach them? Did I reach you?" he whispered to himself and for a moment he could have sworn he heard a familiar voice answer in the affirmative. For a moment he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of blonde hair and a smiling face before him.
He smiled. And the wall of sound coming from the audience almost overwhelmed him. Tumultuous applause, wolf whistles everything you could think of, and the audience was doing it, all of their doubts about this young pianist gone.
"AMAZING!"
"BEAUTIFUL!"
"WONDROUS!"
"KOUSEI-KUN YOU'RE THE BEST!"
"ARIMA-SAN THAT WAS INCREDIBLE!"
Cries like these all washed over him as he bowed again and began to walk off stage.
Goodbye Kaori, and thank you. He thought.
Thanks to you, I can finally hear my piano again.
A/N - I highly recommend listening to Valentina Lisitsa's rendition of Totentanz. This was what I based the final part of this story on.