September 1st, 1991
School starts again tomorrow. I finished my homework weeks ago. Takahashi-sensei has scheduled lessons twice a week now, as my parents have finally agreed to let me enter the Menuhin Competition next year, and possibly the Concours Reine Elisabeth as well, though I am very young for that. I am certain I will do well at either. I already know most of the audition materials for the Concours Reine Elisabeth, though I would prefer to play Paganini's 24th caprice, which needs more work, and Takahashi-sensei insists I am not ready with Bach's Chaconne either. He may be right, but I don't think there is a single piece I love more than that one. I have a year to prepare. I am certain I will be ready in time. I am careful to not allow my acknowledgement of my talent to appear as arrogance, but in the privacy of this diary I can admit that I know how good I am, and am excited to know that I have the time and desire to be better still. Is there anything in the world more beautiful than the sound of a well-played violin?
Before, I would have said 'no', but it is embarrassing to admit that now, as I write that sentence, all I see is Haruka's face. I've seen her twice since my last entry. The company threw her a party in celebration of her first win (as well as the two others, who placed behind her in the top three - Papa chose well - but I would be lying if I said I even now knew their names). Mama was much more relaxed in this setting, as she always is when at fancy dinners. I dressed the part. Papa asked me to play the violin, but the prospect of Haruka noticing me terrified me, and I declined as politely as I could. I was happy he did not press the matter; what reason could I give? I can't even explain to myself why I am so certain I cannot let her see me. Am I afraid that she will be indifferent? Maybe. That would crush me completely. Takahashi-sensei agreed to play in my place, though I can tell from the way he spoke to me afterward that he will ask in the next lesson why I did not play, and I will need to think up a lie before then.
We went to the ocean three days ago. I planned to write then but didn't know what to write, as what occurred affected me even more than my first sighting of Haruka. It was the oddest feeling, standing in the sand by the sea. I felt as though the ocean was calling to me, louder there than anywhere. It was as though, with just the smallest bit more understanding, I would be able to speak its language and converse with it. When I stepped into the water, all anxieties fell away, and I knew I had come home. I have always been a fantastic swimmer, but suddenly I could stay underwater for long spans of time with no issues. I opened my eyes underwater and saw as clear as I did on land. I went deeper than I ever have before and scared my parents silly. When I finally came up my mother was crying and insisted I had disappeared for nearly five minutes. It had felt much briefer to me, and despite numerous apologies Papa insisted we go home. He kept explaining to Mama that I must have just been out of their vision behind waves, because there is no way a child can disappear underwater for five minutes, but she kept looking at me oddly, as though the explanation she'd come to was too odd to say. I lied as best I could. The truth would have sounded crazier.
I want to go back there. That feeling of being home evaporated the further we drove from the sea. Playing alleviates it for a while, but only a little while. Between missing the ocean and missing Haruka, I suddenly feel lonely in a way I never did before.
A/N: The Menuhin Competition and the Concours Reine Elisabeth are both extremely prestigious, elite violin competitions for youth. The pieces mentioned are real (and both are totally awesome - I recommend Hilary Hahn playing both if you were to look them up!). As always, thank you for reading, and please review!