The last note hung still in the air, the exclamation point to the sentence that was Kousei Arima's finest performance yet. For a moment, the crowd sat there in silence, still digesting the pure love and sorrow that came from the young prodigy's piano. Tears were shed. And then, as if reminded of their existence in the world, the crowd's rapturous applause wracked the theater. Watari and Tsubaki watched sympathetically as he stood, wiped the tears from his eyes, and without a bow to the audience, left the stage. Tears fell from their own eyes as Kousei's piece told them, without words, what he'd known.

Kaori Miyazono was dead.

"Arima, that was incredible."

"I think you have us beaten today, Arima. Arima?"

His rivals' words fell on deaf ears as he walked right past them and out of the backstage area. Photographers snapped pictures of the shell shocked boy as he broke into a run. He ran as fast as he could, crying and screaming at the sky as onlookers watched, all the way to the last place they'd met. He remembered that day, when he carried her up to the rooftop and held her as she cried. Despite her illness draining the color from her body, he couldn't help but admire how beautiful she looked amidst the gentle snow of that afternoon.

Please don't let that be the last time I see her.

Please God, give her one more chance.

Please come back to me, Kaori!

The nurse was caught by surprise as a disheveled Kousei ran through the front doors of the hospital. It took him several moments to collect himself, catch his breath, and dry his tears before he could find his voice.

When at last, he finally collected himself, he sputtered, "I need to see Kaori Miyazono."

The stairs leading to her floor, usually tiring him out each time he came to see her, sped by under his feet as he thundered up the stairs two steps at a time. He finally stopped outside the operating room, where he saw Kaori's parents crying in each other's arms. They did not stop as he approached.

"Arima?" her dad asked. "What are you doing here?"

"How is she?" he asked, ignoring the question.

Her mom's sobs told him all he needed to know. His knees gave way then, slamming hard into the floor. She really was gone. He tried so hard to reach her. For a moment, it looked like they were going to pull through. They were going to play together again, violinist and accompanist, just like they had before. But now that was never going to happen. He balled up a fist and hit the floor over and over again as he cried. He felt her parents' arms wrap him in a tight embrace then. Three broken souls cried together, praying for Kaori's return.

The door opened in a flurry and Kousei barely noticed as a doctor poked his head out.

"We have a heartbeat! She's stable for the time being."

The world stood still for a moment, the three of them still wrapped in each other's arms. Their tears became those of joy then as they cheered in unison. She was back.

They waited there for what seemed like hours, Kousei drumming his fingers nervously on the chair next to his. Watari, Tsubaki, and Hiroko showed up not long after, each of them taking turns lending them their assurances. Everyone looked up in unison when the head surgeon walked out of the doors.

"The surgery's complete," he said. "Your daughter's fine."

Happiness would not even begin to describe Kousei's feelings at the moment. Tears of joy flowed down everyone's faces as they cheered and embraced each other.

"See, Kousei?" Watari said with a big smile. "I told you my Kaori would be fine!"

"I reached her," he numbly responded. "I really reached her."

"Of course you did," Tsubaki said proudly. "It's what you do."

"It'll be around seven hours until she's awake again so I suggest you all try to get some rest," said the surgeon before returning to the operating room.

"I've got to go home," Tsubaki said, placing a hand on Kousei's shoulder. "Will you be okay?"

He nodded.

"Call us as soon as she wakes up," Watari said, placing a hand on his back.

Hiroko took a seat next to Kousei as the two of them left, wrapping her arms around him.

"Where's Koharu?" he asked meekly.

"I didn't want her to see this place so I left her with a friend."

He nodded.

"Congratulations, Kousei."

"For what?"

"For not letting go of that one person you play for. Don't ever let her go."

He swallowed a lump in his throat.

"I won't."

"I need to go pick up Koharu. Will you be okay?"

He nodded again.

Before long, Kousei was alone with only Kaori's parents to keep him company as they moved to Kaori's old familiar hospital room, where they sat waiting for Kaori to be moved. It was three hours before Mr. Miyazono finally broke the silence.

"Thank you, Arima," he said, taking Kousei's hand, "for being in my daughter's life. I know she can be short tempered and rude sometimes but-"

Kousei remembered the first time they met, when she beat him up thinking he was a pervert. She didn't exactly make the best first impression on him. But as time went on and she pushed him to return to the world of music, he began to appreciate that crazy girl who ate canelés by the mouthful and yelled at him for being unoriginal while playing. Were it not for her, he'd still be living an empty life, his piano gathering dust, his memories of his mother still buried.

"No, I should be thanking her for being in my life."

He squeezed his hand and offered him a smile.

When the doctors finally rolled Kaori into the room, they all sighed in relief. She was here, in front of them, and alive. Her chest rose up and down as she breathed and a peaceful expression adorned her face. Kousei couldn't help but be reminded of the times she would fall asleep in the music room while he practiced. He would drape his jacket over her and wonder what she dreamt of. Was it Watari, who she was in love with? Perhaps it was playing the violin in front of a crowd to cheers and applause. Maybe it was as simple as a meal consisting solely of canelés.

He took her hand in his and squeezed as he waited for the girl he loved to return to him.

"Yo, Friend A," a quiet voice whispered.

He jumped up in shock as he looked down to see Kaori's brilliant indigo eyes slightly open and a little smile on her face.

"Kaori!" her parents shouted in joy, rushing to her from the other side of the room.

"Hi, mom and dad," she replied groggily as they took her other hand. "Did you miss me?"

They laughed like there was no tomorrow. When everyone finished asking her if she was alright in a thousand different ways, Kousei finally stood to leave. Letting go of Kaori's hand was the hardest thing he'd done since their first duet together. It didn't help that she wouldn't let go no matter how hard he yanked his hand.

"Don't you dare leave, Kousei Arima!"

"I haven't slept in two days, Kaori! I need to go home!"

"You can sleep here, dumbass! There's still space on the bed!"

"Your parents are literally right here!"

He looked over to Mr. and Mrs. Miyazono, both struggling to hold in their laughter as they watched their daughter wrangle with the poor boy who waited for her. Soon enough, they were all laughing again and Kousei managed to free his hand from Kaori's grasp. Before he could turn to leave, Kaori stretched her arms out to him in invitation. He accepted it, wrapping her in an embrace that was perhaps a little too tight.

"That hurts, you idiot."

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

He thought of all the things he could say at that moment. He wanted to tell her how he felt. He wanted to ask her if she would stay by his side forever. He wanted to thank her for everything that she'd done for him in the past year. But most importantly of all-

"Did I really reach you?"

She pulled him in closer then despite the pain.

"You did," she whispered. "I'm so glad we got to play together again."

"Don't think I'm going to go easy on you for our next performance."

"You'd better not."

They pulled apart then, still smiling.

"I'll bring you canelés."

"I'll eat them all!"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Kaori Miyazono."

"You will, Kousei Arima."

He turned, exited through the sliding doors, and sighed. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.