Thank you Pathethic Rainbow, ONIX-21, mon14mon for your reviews and support! You guys really made my day. Also, thank you to all readers out there who liked my story and put it on story alert, I would really appreciate if you reviewed! Thank you Mohita Miharu and Shinmoku no tenshi. And before you start reading, here are some words that you should take note incase of confusion! XD! Author's note: Air can also mean a melody or tune, especially a light or cheerful one. Minutely can also mean slightly.

DISCLAIMERS: Do I have to write this on every chapter? Haha... I don't own La Corda D' Oro, but i do own this fic! XD

Back in the room, the petite figure sat gently on the cushioned chair. Slender fingers run through her silken hair, as she recalled what had happened earlier at the park. She gazed through the window, upon the skies, her right hand nested on the table supporting her seemingly weightless head. She felt joy for the first time in many months as she mused over the event that had occurred not long ago. The tune of the melody was still echoing in her little noggin, and although the twinkling stars had already started dancing on the night skies, in her mind, time was still frozen at the moment when the horizon was painted orange by setting sun. The tip of her lips began to curl up, forming a meek smile, as she closed her eyes to visualise the possible imagery of the individual playing the violin. She was not able to distinguish the adept violinist's features in time, and had to rely on her imagination, as the artist was long gone before she could manage to pull herself out from the captivating air. All she could see was the silhouette of a lean figure gradually fading into the distance.

One month earlier, her therapist informed her of the disheartening news. If there were still no signs of progression in her condition for the following sessions in the next three weeks, he would have to transfer her under another doctor, as there was nothing else he could do for her. Upon learning, she tried desperately to summon her voice, but to no avail. Despite the fact that she increased the self-practice exercises at home from the recommended one hour a day to three, the effort did not produce any evident effect. He was the third therapist whom had given up on her in the depressing five months, and she did not want to move on to the fourth heart crusher. Today, she conjured up all her heart and soul, her sweat and tears, pleading God to return her the ability to speak or to merely produce any audible sound, but her prayer was not heard. She told herself that it was her last go in regaining her voice, and if it failed, she would submit to fate, and move on with life. However, when the conference ended in disappointment, as she expected, she was unable to resist the outbreak of her sorrow and burst into tears.

The determined girl had persevered on for an excruciatingly long five months, and although the flames of her hope flickered bright and dim from time to time, it had never been extinguished so thoroughly before. Was it wrong for her to hope? Was it a mistake, from the beginning, to believe that there was any hope? She was in dilemma. Should she hold on to her dreams and fight, or yield to her inability, settling for a more conceivable tomorrow. Neither was right, but nor were both of the ideas wrong. The predicament tortured her fragile form. She had wanted to hang up her hopes upon the setting sun, as her unrequited faith tormented her. If the higher the hopes, the harder the fall, she would rather have no hopes at all. She had been cruelly tossed around by her seemingly infeasible dream, and she did not wish to get hurt any more.

However, just as she was about to do so, reminiscences of the past ran through her mind. How could she ever let go of her ambitions, her dreams and her life? Singing had opened a whole new world to her, and the incapacity to do so made her shut herself from humanity. To give up on singing would be, to her, to give up upon her sole purpose in life. Without singing, she was merely a lifeless doll, an empty vessel without a soul. Her eyes redden at the thought of the idea, and she began tearing all over again. Countless nights had she slept with a wet pillow, innumerable days had she weep. Sleep only accompanied her when she cried till she had no more tears, and her soul all worn out from the misery.

Earlier in the day, she had sat on the park bench, waiting for her eyes to go dry so that her lamenting would stop. She feared the thought of breaking the saddening news to her family, and made an escape to the nearby parks. She knew all too well her parents and her sister, that they would comfort her like a helpless child, and put on the strong front when facing her. If things were to go on like this, their family would eventually encounter financial crisis, but her parents did not want to put on to her any more pressure that she already had. The problem of money was theirs to tackle, their burden, not hers. They were really kind and caring, and it broke her heart to see them suffer with her. Each day she could not help but notive her mother becoming thinner and frailer, and her father's warm smile turning cheerlessly bitter. Even her sister had began to take on extensive over time just to earn a little more to cash in for their expenses. In her tender heart, the sixteen-year-old yearned to return to those days of the past, but her mind brought her back to reality.

Five hours was what it took for her tears to stop, she recalled pensively. But it was worth it. Had she not stayed there for five hours, she would have never encountered the affectionate tune. She silently hummed the song in her head; her expression slightly tensed, as for a split second, shrouds of uncertainty descended yet again upon her. She was once again reminded of the depressing deprivation of her voice, but this time, she did not cry. Though her gaze wavered minutely, and her eyes began sparkling more than it normally would, she did not give in. She had found a new source of courage to move on with her life. She was ready to face tomorrow.

Brimming with hope, her heart throbbed with anticipation for the arrival of the next day, but her drooping eyelids begged her to head for slumber. She switched off the lights, and crawled into bed, with eyes swollen from prolong weeping. The room was still, and the only sounds were that of the curtains flapping against lilac wall, and the continuous rotation of the fan. However, even now, the melody of the fiddle running across the cords was still resonating in her mind. Day after day in her sleep, she was haunted by recurring nightmares of the traumatic incident, but on that peculiar night, she knew she would have a sweet dream, and perhaps of a particular violinist.

To be continued…

Sorry being over describtive! It seems to be a long way before she would actually meet him. By the way, am I right in saying that Hino only has one sister? Because i don't recall her having any other siblings. Please point out if i made any mistakes! And like before, if you have and suggestions to the plot, you can submit it as review or PM me. The thoughts flow as i write, so i don't have any particular confirmed ideas in mind yet. All in all, I just want to say, THANK YOU FOR READING!! and please review?!

Rin Kei'Chi