Kousei's heart pounded relentlessly at his chest. He wished Tsubaki, Watari, or his dad were here; he always played their hearts out when they were watching. But they were busy and it was a little too much to expect them to jump on a plane just to watch him play as they had hundreds of times before. Besides, he had someone else beside him: his reason for playing and living.

"You're doing it again," a teasing voice whispered to him.

"What?"

"You're looking down."

He blinked and took a deep breath before looking to his left. His wife's smiling visage greeted him and like a million times before, the beating in his chest began to calm. They'd been in this situation dozens of times before, Kousei sitting on the bench tapping away at the imaginary piano in the air, Kaori holding his hand, completely relaxed, and cracking jokes as if it was the first day they played together.

But this wasn't just any ordinary day.

This was to be their biggest performance yet.

"Sorry, Kaori," he said, smiling. "I'm just a little nervous."

"Don't be sorry about the world coming to an end today," she said. "It's already tomorrow in Australia."

"Lucy?"

"Nope! That one's from the author, Charles Schultz!"

He shook his head.

"Besides," Kaori said, taking his hand and placing it on her belly, now swollen to an epic proportion, "we're not playing for the people out there."

Kousei nodded, chuckling as he felt a little kick against his hand. He looked to both sides of the hallway they sat in, filled with world class musicians as far as the eye could see. A few years ago, he wouldn't have dreamt of even meeting these titans of music, let alone playing in the same music hall as them. Yet here they were, world famous pianist and violinist, at their dream venue: the Theater an der Wien, where legends like Beethoven played over the last two centuries. Thousands of people from all over the world were in the theater; the rest of the world watched on TV. His friends, Hiroko, and his dad all promised to watch their first performance on the world stage. He clutched the piece they were about to play, Lovely Rosemary, to his chest.

Would they reach them?

He hoped they could.

He knew they would.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, Kousei and Kaori Arima!"

All eyes in the hallway turned to them as they stood hand in hand, ready to enter the stage. Kousei felt Kaori squeeze his hand.

"Ready, Friend A?"

"Ready," he replied. "Let's take no prisoners!"

"That's the spirit! Let's make Kreisler proud!"

And onto the stage they went.

"Elohim, essaim… Elohim, essaim we implore you… let us reach her."

The audience gasped as the pair charged headfirst together into the song and the violin and the piano playfully battled each other for dominance. Whenever one got the upper hand, the other would speed up to catch up, pulling the other back as if to say, "Don't steal my thunder." To the younger members of the audience, it seemed as if the two of them were battling each other in a race to capture their hearts. Only the older members of the audience understood the true meaning of the tune that met their ears.

I'm going to be her favorite parent!

She hasn't even been born yet.

So? I can tell.

Oh really?

She gets more excited when I play than you do!

That's probably because your big fat belly is in the way of her ears.

You take that back!

Make me.

Even those who couldn't see their faces could tell what they were saying under the curtain of sweat that began to cover their faces. The excitement of becoming a parent was one that many of them could relate to. Many of them chuckled and shook their heads at the duo, as if to say, "Just you wait."

Suddenly, the violin slowed and with it, the song took a calmer tone, accentuated by the occasional kick. It was an adoring one; the parents had stopped arguing and started fawning over their little tot in her crib. She was the most beautiful thing they'd ever seen. Nothing else came close.

Kick.

Kousei turned his head as the audience began to whisper.

Kick.

Normally, he'd take pleasure in hearing their reactions to their playing but this was getting irritating. Couldn't their excitement wait until they'd finished playing?

Kick.

That was when he saw the puddle on the floor.

Kick.

He stood up then, prepared to run to her, to bring her to the hospital when she turned to him, bow still in hand, her eyes as intense as ever.

I'm okay. Don't stop.

The tempo rose as the soon to be father frantically raced through the piece and the mother sped up to match him. A thousand anxieties flooded the air in waves. Will they be good parents? What will their daughter be like? Will she be a musician like them? Will she be able to make a living?

She existed inside them but there was so much they didn't know.

What things will you like?

What will your favorite insects be?

What kind of stuff will you collect?

What anime will you watch?

So many questions were left unresolved when the last note hit the air. The audience was silent as the pianist ran to the violinist and they ran off the stage without a single bow. They'd have to wait for the answers to those questions, it seemed.

White walls. The sterile smell of antiseptics. Bright lights that shined as bright as the sun. The trembling in his hands as he held onto hers. The feeling of sinking into a chair as he stared at the floor.

The situation was all too familiar to Kousei Arima.

Five years ago, he met a girl under the cherry blossoms, and his fate began to change. The world filled with color, music filled the empty chamber that was his heart, and a new feeling began to blossom within him: love. Then, when the world finally began to shine its brightest, he made a terrible discovery: the girl he loved was dying.

"To musicians," Kaori once declared, "to stop playing is death."

So they kept playing, taking turns picking the other up whenever they felt like giving up. When the day of the surgery finally came, their work finally paid off. She came back to him, he found out she loved him too, and they began the greatest duet of all. For the longest time, he thought that it would last forever. Now, he prayed to have one more day.

He held tightly to her hand, afraid that she would leave if he let go. Ice gripped his heart as he watched her pass out over and over again. The sound of her screams as she pushed brought tears to his eyes. For the longest time, it felt like the end of the world.

A sudden wail brought him back to his senses.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Arima!"

He could scarcely hear the words as the nurse passed the little bundle of joy into his arms. He sat there, transfixed by the little baby's cries. Before that day, he'd always found babies' crying annoying, always interrupting his performances with their shrill sobs. Now, it was music to his ears.

"Kousei," a soft voice whispered.

He looked over to see Kaori, her face as pale as a sheet, smiling at him.

"Kaori! Are you alright?"

He took her hand, giving it a tight squeeze as he did so. The light tapping on the back of his hand told him all he needed to know. With a single sigh, he let out all of the stress from the past five hours. They were going to be alright.

"How's our little one?"

"She's beautiful."

"Hand her over to me, will you?"

Kousei obliged and carefully guided the baby into her mother's arms. Despite the sweat, blood, and tears, he didn't hesitate as he sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped the two of them in his arms, their first embrace as a family.

"What should we name her?" he whispered.

She answered immediately, as if the answer was obvious.

"Mari."

Kousei nodded, caressing the little girl's cheek. It was the perfect name, the crescendo of their duet, the last note of a triad five years in the making, their Lovely Rosemary. Tears of joy spilled from his eyes as he looked into his daughter's brilliant indigo eyes.

"Hello, Mari."