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With SunFest’s conclusion, the concert band completely switched over to preparing for their competitions. The Kyoto Competition is at the beginning of August. Thinking that they were in the middle of May, there wouldn’t be plenty of people who’d say they had a lot of time left to practice.

“So, we shall now pass out the sheet music for the performances we’ll do for this year’s competitions.”

As Taki spoke, Yuuko and Natsuki began distributing the sheet music. Sheet music distribution. Written beside those three words was today’s date. Kumiko had cleared out a lot of space to store the many sheet music files handed out today. She scrunched her toes in order to hold back her eagerness.

“And here’s yours Kumiko.”

“Thank you.”

Natsuki handed over quite a lot of pages. Looks like this year’s individual piece was quite long. Briefly glancing at it, it looked like four movements.

“Liz and the Blue Bird”

Kumiko vaguely remembered something as she looked at the letters above the staff notation. While there wasn’t a clear separation of first and second seats for the euphonium, there were passages that had higher and lower notes that made it easy to distinguish between them. While it was a short one, there was a solo in the compulsory piece too.

Beside her, Kanade narrowed her eyes as though she was inspecting the piece. “This is a standard piece for competitions. It was performed at Nationals three years earlier.”

“Do you know this song Kanade-chan?”

“Well, it is famous after al. I’ve only heard it though.”

Feeling like she was being teased for not knowing it, Kumiko gave a vague smile. Kanade stroked her chin and pointed to a part in the sheet music.

“So the euph has a solo too. The one for the oboe is quite long isn’t it?”

“It is. But that one may get trimmed down.”

Concert band competitions in the A division were limited to performances of both a compulsory piece and a free piece within 12 minutes. As going over that time limit was an immediate disqualification, many schools would re-arrange their free pieces to fit within the time limit. During that process it was easy to unjustifiably arrange it to invite flaws and reduce the musicianship from the original. What piece do you pick, which composition do you pick, how should you arrange it? The battle for concert band competitions starts at this moment.

“It appears that everyone has received a copy of the sheet music.” After confirming that they had received it, Taki seriously spoke, “This year’s compulsory piece is ‘Larimar’ and our individual piece is ‘Liz and the Blue Bird.’ Both pieces are quite difficult, but I chose them thinking that they were suitable enough to display your true capabilities.”

At competitions, bands had to perform one of five prescribed pieces. The piece that Taki chose, compulsory piece IV, was the shortest of the set, not even three minutes long. He wanted to use their allotted time for the free piece rather than the compulsory piece. His thought process was clearly evident.

“The auditions will be held over two days prior to the week of testing. You will be performing individually during this time, so please prepare yourselves. These auditions will determine who will be A members and who will perform the solos.”

Taki brought his hands together and took a breath. From his gentle narrowed eyes, a hint of futileness if you said anything floated outward.

“The limit of members who can perform in the A group is fifty-five. However, in the case that I feel that there aren’t enough members that can compete on the competition level, then the amount of performing members may be lower. Please continue to practice without taking excessive pride in your performance.”

“Yes sir!”

Taki nodded, satisfied with the response from the band. “So then please move to sectionals now. I shall be in the staff room, so if any problems arise, please have the section leader come inform me.”

And with a “yes sir!” the meeting had ended for the day. Having received their sheet music, the members each returned to their individual sectional rooms. Suddenly looking behind her, Kumiko noticed that Tomoe and Yume were talking about something over at the trumpet section. Looks like those two had gotten close. Kumiko stood, befuddled at that sight when Kanade lightly tapped her back, smiling all the way.

“Kumiko-senpai, we should hurry back too.”

“Ah, yeah.”

Pressured, Kumiko quickly placed her sheet music in her arms. While Tomoe’s unusually serious expression pulled at her from behind, she left the music room.

Upon returning to their practice room, Sapphire was already waiting. She stood in front of the teacher’s desk with her red glasses already on. Looking at the copies in her hands, she was bursting with energy ready to explain it all.

“Finally you’ve returned to us Kumiko-chan. Come on, hurry up and take a seat.”

Motomu had shrewdly camped out in the seat closest to the teacher’s desk. Sitting behind him were Hazuki, Satsuki, and Mirei all in a row. Kumiko and Kanade sat down in the center row.

“I brought the CD……..Whoa. Everyone’s patiently sitting and waiting.”

“Looks like Kawashima was eager again.”

Riko and Takuya entered the room carrying a CD player. Peeking behind Riko’s shoulder, Natsuki was also walking behind her.

“What’s this? Are the first and second-years holding a conference?”

In response to that question, Sapphire gaudily raised the frame of her glasses.

“Please take a seat as well senpais. Here-on, Midori will explain much about these pieces.”

“Do as Midori-senpai said, please take a seat.” Motomu’s face was extremely serious. Everyone had gradually gotten used to his Sapphire Supremacy standing. The third-years took a seat near the rear of the classroom as Motomu directed.

“So then, so then, Midori will broadly explain to you our pieces.”

She switched on the CD player Takuya had brought. The tune that played was “Larimar,” this year’s compulsory piece.

“Of all the pieces in this year’s list of compulsory pieces, this was my favorite, so Midori was exceptionally excited to hear that Kitauji would be playing it! The composer is Shimizu Kanehiko-san, from Hokkaido. Larimar is the name of a stone that’s official name is ‘Blue Pectolite.’ Its trademark is a vivid blue entering the white stone, coloring it like a pretty south sea tint. Shimizu-san composed this march from seeing that stone. It had some influence from Ainu traditional music. The main theme’s bitter impression is very characteristic of that type of music. The euph solo mid-way through is also very important! After that, how it uses the many types of percussion instruments is also very important.”

Sapphire continued her lecture that made you question how long she researched it. Pressing her finger to the player, she restarted it playing a different piece. This was probably their free piece. Next, Sapphire turned over the stack of papers she accumulated.

“Our free piece, ‘Liz and the Blue Bird’ is well known to concert band. It’s composed by Yuriko Uda san. In comparison to the LOTS AND LOTS of well-known pieces, its degree of familiarity is small. It was composed based on the ‘Liz and the Blue Bird’ fairy tale and so it became a piece that has a very fairy-tale nature to it. From the first movement until the end of the fourth movement, it’s around 20 minutes long, so Midori thinks Taki-sensei will neatly trim it down. This piece’s main feature is the oboe solo in the third movement where the flute solo comes in and plays along. It’s incredibly beautiful and this piece was used in commercials for a period of time.”

“Ah, that’s why I could remember the title. I hadn’t heard the piece, but I knew that title from somewhere, so I guess I had read the book after all.” Hazuki nodded several times, her arms linked together. The deja-vu that Kumiko experienced when she looked at the title on the sheet music she received earlier must be for the same reason.

Listening in, Satsuki frowned. “I haven’t read that story at all! How bout you Mic-chan?”

“I’ve not read the story, but I have heard the piece before. Three years ago, a school from Saitama performed it at Nationals.”

In response, Kanade lifted the edges of her mouth. Tapping her fingers on the desk, she drew Mirei’s attention towards herself.

“Of course you’d know that Mirei. When I received the sheet music, that performance was the first thing that popped in my mind too.”

“You knew it too Kanade?” Mirei’s mouth relaxed. Something akin to joy lit up inside her soft eyes.

Resting her chin in her hands, Natsuki spoke to Motomu, “What about you? Know this song?”

Turning around with a sour expression, Motomu tilted his head sideways like a child.

“Well, more-or-less from when I was in first year in middle school.”

“How was it?”

“What do you mean by how?”

“Just as it sounds. Was it difficult?”

Motomu looked up in response to Natsuki’s questions. Those black eyes were searching through his past. His dainty hands met his chin, completing his thinking pose.

“We had a lot on our hands at Ryuusei Middle. I don’t think we were able to actually perform it.”

“What about Kitauji doing it? Think we can?”

“Well, I don’t know. With the current advisor around, well, it might turn out alright.”

Motomu looked downward, perhaps feeling a bit guilty. Short breaths leaked out from the crevice between his pink lips. Natsuki looked up and replied “hmm,”

Sapphire energetically slapped her desk to break up the dullened mood.

“In response to what you were talking about, isn’t there a lot of people who wouldn’t know ‘Liz and the Blue Bird’? But Midori knows it! In order for those who haven’t familiarized themselves with the story to play it well…..Midori has prepared these!”

Da-dun! With her added sound effect, Sapphire brought out three books. The titles on the front of the thin books were all the same words. Riko nonchalantly said “looks like she ordered these by mail.”

“Midori brought three copies of ‘Liz and the Blue Bird’ from home! I’ve already read these, so I thought I’d lend these to anyone who hasn’t read it year.”

“Why’d you bring three copies of the same book Midori?”

Kumiko, without thinking, added her rebuke. In response, Motomu spoke with praise, “Midori-senpai is very kind-hearted. She doesn’t just think about herself, she also takes others into consideration. I’d expect no less from Midori-senpai!”

“Ah, looking at Motomu reminds me of a certain someone from a year ago.” Natsuki’s expression looked bored. The face floating through her mind was probably the current president’s.

Sapphire cleared her throat. “Actually, Midori performed in a recital my little sister’s elementary school did of ‘Liz and the Blue Bird.’

“You mean Kohaku-chan?” Hazuki spoke of Sapphire’s little sister. While Kumiko hadn’t met her yet, Hazuki had gone over to Sapphire’s house and probably met her there.

“Yep, Kohaku’s recital. So Midori thought she’d research the story and immediately sent to a bookstore to buy it. When I got home, Papa and Mama had already bought the same book…..”

“Oh, I see. That’s why you have three copies.” Riko looked like she understood it. “That’s right!” Sapphire powerfully nodded.

“So when I heard a rumor that we would be playing it as our free piece, I thought this was God telling me to lend this book out to everyone. I thought I’d lend it out in turn to those who haven’t read it so……why don’t we start with seeing if the third year senpais have read it?”

Takuya and Riko looked at each other in response. Beside them, Natsuki waved her hand.

“Nope for me. I’ve already got it.”

“…….Same. I rented it from the library.”

“I thought I’d borrow it from Takuya-kun once he finishes.”

Looks like the third-years had already prepared in advance. Sapphire dropped her shoulders in disappointment. Seeing that, Hazuki eagerly raised her hand.

“Here here! I’ve not read it so I want to borrow one! So I’ll rotate it around the tuba firsties. Why don’t you leand another to Kumiko? The euphs could pass it around like old maid.”

“And the last one?”

“Wouldn’t it be fine for Motomu-kun? One for the contrabasses?”

“Is that fine with you Midori-senpai? I’d love to borrow one of your books!”

Motomu’s eyes were shining like a dog with treats in front of it. “Like Yuga” Takuga murmured.

“So here you go Kumiko-chan.” Midori offered out a book from the teacher’s desk to Kumiko. Underneath the stylish title was a drawing of two girls huddled together. Beige hair mixed with blue hair. Because their expressions were lightly fluffed over, Kumiko couldn’t tell what they were thinking.

“It’s a cute cover.” Kanade looked at the book in Kumiko’s hands.

“Do you want to read it after me?”

“No, I’ve already read it, so I’m fine. After you finish reading it, Kumiko-senpai, please lend it to Mirei or Satsuki. Neither of them have read it after all.”

“Ah, got it.”

“Hey you two. Before you get on about lending, I’d like to talk about something in the sheet music.”

Natsuki, slumped over in the seat behind them like a slacker, interrupted their conversation. As her finger thumped onto a section of the sheet music for their free piece, she annoyedly projected, “Our free piece is split into two parts. I thought we’d decide that now. Either of you have any wishes?”

Kumiko scanned over the sheet music they had been given out earlier. It was split into two parts during several sections. The higher part’s notes were fairly high. Natsuki might not be able to handle those. Kumiko stopped turning the pages and timidly looked at Natsuki.

“Um, what do you think is best Natsuki-senpai?”

“So uh….what do you want to do Kumiko?”

A question for a question. Kumiko knit her brow. Honestly, if she were to speak, either was fine for her. Knowing that, Natsuki offered Kumiko the choice.

As she looked over grinning and amused, a sharp tooth peeked out from the gap between her lips. Kumiko extended her arm and pointed towards the eighth note at the higher section.

“Then I’ll play the higher.”

“Okay, then Kanade and I will do lower.”

Natsuki wrote into the blank spaces with the end of her mechanical pencil. The led gradually scraped off and flour slightly fell into the blank space. When Natsuki blew that away, she revealed that she wrote down the part allotments.

“I’ll be playing with Nakagawa-senpai?”

Kanade, who had silently been watching their conversation, spoke while covering her lips with her hand. Natsuki’s eyes glanced at her.

“Not good for you? If you want something, then I’ll listen to ya.”

“No, nothing in particular. It’s just that I thought you were quite the schemer when dividing these parts.”

Kanade’s eyes quickly formed into her smile. Natsuki’s expression wasn’t broken.

“Schemer? Aren’t you over-thinking it?”

“Then this is fine. I apologize, I’ve always been the type to overly worry.” Contrary to her apology, Kanade’s expression showed no hint of remorse. Why hasn’t she grown attached to Natsuki? Every time she sends those thorn-laced phrases towards Natsuki, Kumiko’s heart sinks further into depression. They’re both euphonium players. If they have to play together, then she wants them to have a wonderful senpai-kouhai relationship.

Natsuki lifted up the sheet music in both hands and lightly dropped the papers down onto the desk. Dun-dun, a light sound slipped through the gap between the three girls.

“It didn’t bother me. I wasn’t worried.”

As she spoke, Natsuki stood up from her seat. It looked like her loosely tied hair would come apart any moment now.

That evening, Kumiko stepped out of the bath and collapsed onto her bed. Though she used a hair dryer to dry her hair, the tips on the hair on her nape were still moist. Burying her nose into her pillow, Kumiko flailed her arms and legs on top of the futon.

“Ah!”

The breath she exhaled into her pillow returned back to her face. Kumiko slowly turned over on top of the wrinkled futon she laid on. Long slender breaths went in her. The external air that went inside gradually pressed onto her stomach. She paused breathing for five seconds and then exhaled it all out in one go. Repeating this over and over, she felt her haziness escape her body to the outside.

“…..Alright”

Slowly rising from the bed, Kumiko picked up the book that Sapphire lent her. A bright sky blue encroached onto the spine. She meekly thought “what a pretty cover.” Kumiko turned the page over and began moving only her eyes along the line of text. “Liz and the Blue Bird.” This story was still a mystery to Kumiko.

The protagonist Liz was a girl who lived on the outskirts of town. Her parents had passed away, so she worked at a bakery in order to live. She would go to work early in the morning and return home once the sun set. Repeating the same routine over and over every single day. Near her house was a big lake. After work each day, she would take the unsold bread and share the pieces with all the animals around. Among all the animals, Liz was especially fond of a blue bird that would fly around. Its small brilliant feathers were similar to the lake’s color when it was bathed in sunlight.

And then a storm suddenly came along to disrupt those peaceful days. Liz shuddered from the echoing sounds of thunder and the pouring rain. Looking outside, the lake was as dark as the inside of a snake’s mouth. Liz didn’t know if she could wait out this storm alone. It was a horrible series of sounds. When she awoke, the rain had already stopped. The post-rain sky stretched out wide, sky blue and without a single cloud. It resembled the blue of her friendly bird. The greenery, wet with dew, lightly swayed. The drops of water spread around reflected the sunlight, sparkling like a smashed jewel. Along the bank of the lake, there were no signs of her animal friends.

“Well, what am I going to do now?”

Suddenly, a single girl entered Liz’s sight. She had collapsed on the side of the lake, strengthless. Liz brought the unconscious girl back to her house and nursed her as best she could. Whether it was due to her care or not, the girl awoke about half a day later. Her eyes were a transparent aquamarine. This blue-haired girl was incredibly beautiful.

As she said she had nowhere to return to, she wanted to live with Liz. She didn’t eat much, just a bit of the leftovers from the bakery would fill her stomach up. Liz listened to her wishes and the two began to live together. Liz, who lived in solitude, was now part of something special like a new family.

“I’m incredibly delighted to be able just to live with you here. However, please don’t look too much into me. If you were to know who I am, I might have to leave this place.”

Liz could accept that sole request. For Liz, the girl was “the girl.” No matter what past she held, the girl standing in front of her now was the only thing that mattered.

Their life together was quiet. When one woke up, the other member was beside them. That, more than anything, was true happiness for Liz. However, those days wouldn’t last long.

“What could this mean?”

A bright light flickered in the corner of the room. Over there was a feather from the blue bird. When light hit the densely packed hairs, the color changed. Oh, this girl was the blue bird that Liz brought bread to. But she warned Liz that if she knew who she was, she would have to leave. No matter what Liz did, she would be alone again.

“Ah, I’ve snatched away the beautiful feathers from the one I love. The ones that would allow her to fly endlessly in the skies above. God, please tell me what I should do.”

Liz was worried. If she was thinking about the girl’s happiness, then she should let her return to the sky. Those beautiful feathers should not be thrown onto the ground like this. However, she didn’t want her current life to end either. Liz took a breath to calm herself down and placed the blue feather into a drawer inside her closet.

“Have a good day Liz!”

“Yes, I’m heading off now!”

On that day, Liz headed to the bakery as usual. The early morning sun covered the earth, causing it to shine like honey. “Cheep” “Cheep” Liz reflexively looked up at the chirping birds in the sky. They were the same flock that flew with the blue bird above the lake. They flew above the lake around and around like they were searching for their friend.

“I wonder if I’ve committed a sinful deed.”

At that moment, Liz decided that she would return the girl to the sky. She turned around and rushed into her house. There, on top of a chair, was the blue bird. At the moment their eyes met, the blue bird’s eyes narrowed in sorrow.

“Ah, Liz, why did you come back here?”

Liz retrieved the fallen feather from her room and presented it to the bird.

“You should live freely. With those supple feathers, you should fly high into the sky.”

“For me, living with you in your home was the utmost joy I’ve had. Why couldn’t you have pretended not to notice?”

Liz calmly shook her head at the bird’s question.

“If I did that, I would imprison you in my house like a birdcage ever wondering when you would escape. Maybe if I were to deliberately set you free by my own hand, then that somehow would be the end of this happiness before me, but this is my love for you. I’ll carry these beautiful memories with me while I see you off.”

A sole teardrop fell from the bird as Liz spoke.

“Then if that is what you desire, then who am I to deny you? However, please remember these happy days from time to time. And so this is my love for you.”

The blue bird moved its beautiful wings and disappeared into the far blue sky with powerful movements. Liz endlessly, endlessly, continue to gaze at that sight.

“The end.” Kumiko, making sure those were the last two words, closed the book shut.

“I don’t get that at all,” she unconsciously murmured while tears dripped down her face. She thought that lots of fairy tales were supposed to include a lesson, but this tale didn’t feel like it had that kind of message at all. If it were to be a tale of good and evil, then it didn’t have any portrayal of that theme at all. Maybe there was an underlying message that Kumiko herself didn’t notice. As she continued to moan over and over about it, her exhausted brain forced her to abandon that thought.

“Ah, I give, I give up!”

She’ll just wait for someone to tell her what this meant. Quickly abandoning her thinking, Kumiko returned the book to the top of her desk. She started her computer and it played and played a CD. After confirming that music was playing, Kumiko next opened the music file set on her bed. The piece stuck in there was of course, their free piece “Liz and the Blue Bird.”

As Sapphire had explained during the afternoon, this was organized into four movements. Each movement interacted with the story as it unfolded. If you followed the flow of the story, then it was simple to predict what scene appeared in the sheet music.

If she was to crudely summarize the story that she had just read, it was the tale of Liz and the blue bird forming a family and then their parting. The first movement “Ordinary Days” depicted Liz’s normal life up until she met the girl. Then the second movement, “A New Family” represented the daily life of Liz and the blue bird disguised as the girl. The dynamic melody at the beginning of the second movement represented the storm. Inside the turbulent melody that the brass instruments played, there were whistling sounds to represent the wind. The name of the instrument written on the sheet music was “wind machine.” As it sounded, that reproduced the sound of wind.

The third movement, “A Decision of Love,” was mostly an oboe solo. Because of its slow tempo, this movement was only around four minutes long. Probably the whole bit would be cut, Kumiko guessed. The latter half of the third movement was a duet between the oboe and the flute. Following the powerful solo from the oboe, the woodwind instrument would whisper softly. The oboe would tug into silence and then shift into the fourth movement. “To a Distant Sky.” As the title sounds, this depicted the blue bird flying away from Liz. This flashy melody enlivened the parting of the two. The music took on passion as it approached the latter half and eventually met the ending. Like the reverb of fireworks in the night sky, the harmony floats in the soundless atmosphere.

“So this is their parting?”

The fourth movement’s melody was graceful and yet powerful. The imagery floating in her head when she closed her eyes was quite different from what Kumiko imagined when she read the story. What did the composer have in mind when making this section? Sadness towards their parting or perhaps reassurance towards the future. Checking that nothing was coming out of her speakers, Kumiko slithered back to the top of her futon.

Liz and the blue bird. The bird flying away and the alone girl seeing her off. Kumiko was reminded of two senpais from this composition.

“It might resemble Mizore-senpai and Nozomi-senpai.”

As that leaked from her lips, Kumiko’s legs rolled over. Two years ago, when they were first-years, Nozomi left the band, leaving Mizore alone. As long as Nozomi was around, Mizore was happy, but Nozomi didn’t notice Mizore’s only desire. The scale of the emotions between them was always slanted towards one side.

The blue bird left Liz behind. It flapped its beautiful wings greatly and flew off towards the outside world. Why did that face of Liz, powerlessly watching the bird fly away, remind her of Mizore?

Rain then cloudy. The weather forecast from the news was magnificently correct today. It continued to rain from morning until after school. Rain mixed in with the earth and formed heavy patches of mud. The students pushed through the water membrane stuck to the ground like they were water striders. Clouds covered the sky without a single break through them making every inch of the school building feel gloomy.

While stifling a yawn, Kumiko carried her handouts from the staff room. The sheets were still fairly warm, likely because it took so long to print all of them.

“Kabe-chan-senpai, I’ve made copies of all the handouts!”

Since both of her arms were full, Kumiko opened the door to the home economics room with her foot. There were six kitchen spaces and such side-by-side. On the furthest right work station, Tomoe was dozing off. Kumiko quickly closed her mouth and slid the door shut with her hand.

“…..She’s really sleeping.”

Tomoe’s face was covered by her arms linked together like they were a pillow. Whether the first year members that she had been instructing a while ago forgot to return them or not, the neighboring chairs by Tomoe were jutted out of their row. Kumiko set the handouts on the table and lightly sat down on a wooden stool. Though there was a screeching sound as she pulled the chair out, Tomoe didn’t wake up.

Should she wake her up? Should she let her sleep? Hesitation floated around inside Kumiko until an orange campus notebook entered her sight. It had been left lying open on the table, so Kumiko’s curiosity drew her near. The lines written at the top had been sharply pressed down. Written on the first line was a first year horn player’s name who hadn’t played any instrument before joining.

April 13: At last she made a sound. It’s still tough for her to stretch it out.

April 14: There’s too many times where she forgets her fingerings. Maybe I should give her a test?

April 15: Her notes are finally stable. She might be good at high notes and she’s finally able to play notes longer than four beats.

April 16: She still hasn’t mastered the concept of musical intervals. Maybe we should do harmony practice afterwards.

April 17: She can play a lengthy scale! I knew she could do it!

Beside each line was a cute illustration. The dates continued until today and as Kumiko turned the pages, she saw how detailed the notes were. The register they could play. The passages they couldn’t play. And her worries about the relationships within the band. The moment that she saw a record of what had happened in the band, Kumiko reflexively shut the notebook. It wasn’t fine for her to see what was written further.

Kumiko returned the notebook to the desk and softly shook Tomoe’s shoulder.

“Kabe-chan-senpai, it’s time to wake up!”

Tomoe, still with her eyes closed, let out some strange sound. Drool dangled from her lips. Kumiko raised her eyebrows and then stuck her face near Tomoe’s ear.

“Senpai!”

“Ayeeeeeee!” As she let out a somewhat pathetic cry, Tomoe jumped up from her seat. Confirming that she saw herself reflected in those black eyes, Kumiko finally separated from her.

“Looks like you were incredibly tired. Is everything alright?”

“Yeap, thing’s fine here.”

“That doesn’t sound like things are fine.”

Tomoe herself didn’t seem to mind Kumiko’s suspicious glance directed at her. She lightly slapped her cheeks and stretched her arms towards the sky. Kumiko remained silent as she stretched her back.

“Ah, you brought those handouts. Thanks! I knew I could count on you Oumae-chan.”

As Tomoe grinned, Kumiko shyly pointed her finger towards the corner of her mouth. “Um, you’ve got a bit of drool.”

“Huh? You’re joking! I’m doubly embarrassed!” She leapt up and quickly went to turn a faucet at a sink. If Kumiko were to think calmly at the sight of her senpai washing her face at the sink beside the gas stove, she’d find it incredibly surreal. Tomoe covered her face with a fluffy towel and then lifted her head up. Whether that water had woken her up, Tomoe’s face looked much more refreshed than before.

“So you write these kinds of things Kabe-chan-senpai? I was surprised at how detailed you were.”

“What things?”

Tomoe looked befuddled. Kumiko pointed towards the campus notebook on the desk and tapped the cover with her finger.

“This.”

“Ah, my instruction notebook. Look inside?”

“Just the first bit. I didn’t look at the latter half.”

“Ah, that so? I believe you Oumae-chan, but I can’t say that I feel glad that you’d look at someone else’s things.”

“So-Sorry! I thought it was related to the band.”

“Ha ha! It’s not like I’m upset at you. Just that you had to see something clumsy as well. More or less it’s what I wanted to keep private………So what month did you reach?

“Ah, just April’s part. I was surprised at how detailed it was.

Tomoe looked down bashfully. She rubbed the heels of her shoes together and bent over.

“Well yeah, I didn’t plan on recording things for this long, but doing this small bit of work has been quite fun.”

“Would you perhaps do this for everyone?”

“Only for the beginners. Well, there’s only about seven of them and that takes a lot of time.”

“No way, that’s a lot to even think about. If you say yes, then I’ll help you out.”

“What are ya saying? Don’t you have to instruct the experienced players Oumae-chan? Well, it’s not like I didn’t expect you to offer.”

Of course Kumiko was in charge of the experienced first-years, but all you could say that she did was think about the practice schedule and give instructions during fundamental ensembles. There’d be no way that she could look after everyone like Tomoe. Should she become closer to the first year members like Tomoe did? Do they need more individualized practices? Her brain was boiling hot with all these regrets bubbling up to the surface one after another. In response to Kumiko’s gloominess, Tomoe joked “Ut oh! I did it again. You don’t have to be that upset, do ya? Nah, you really don’t.”

“But,”

“Really, I’m surprised that the too damn serious Oumae-chan would get this depressed. Are you regretting something?”

“I’m wondering if maybe I should look at everyone individually a bit more like you do Kabe-chan-senpai.”

“What nonsense are you spewing? I’m only able to do what I do because we only have seven beginners.” Tomoe waved her hand by her face like a neighborhood granny. Her voice was crisp and bright. “In general,” Tomoe started as she created a rare serious expression. There no hints of her usual easy-going mood. “If I were to be honest, I’m able to do this detailed work because I get satisfaction from it. I never wanted you to have the same burden that I have. Even from the very beginning. But if someone gets put in this role next year and wants to do what I did, then fine. Usually, I don’t think there’s reason for someone to be this detailed.”

“Then why do you do it senpai?”

“Didn’t I say that? Self-satisfaction.”

Pitter-patter and rain drops started to sound outside. Above the whirling clouds, a bit of lightning flashed. The newscaster said that the afternoon would be cloudy, but looks like the forecast was off. The scene of raindrops went into her nose, and for some reason made Kumiko feel sentimental.

“I don’t know if I told ya or not, but I joined band when I entered high school. I was a complete newbie to music itself, so I didn’t know my lefts and rights.” Tomoe’s eyes softened as though she yearned for the past. Kumiko moved her gaze from outside to right opposite those of Tomoe. The voice coming out of her lips spun like song.

“The ones who helped me then were Kaori-senpai and Yuuko. Yuuko may appear as the serious type, but she’s surprisingly good at taking care of ya. Kaori-senpai was…..well, to borrow what Yuuko said, truly an angel then. Senpai was so kind to everyone you’d think she was an angel.”

Kaori Nakaseko. Her sweet smile flickered in Kumiko’s memories. She was a two-year older senpai who had graduated. As part of the trumpet section, she and Reina competed over the solo last year. Everyone respected her and many admired her from afar.

“But ya know, during my first year- well, you would know Oumae-chan since you’re so well informed. There was a dispute between the first years from Minami Middle and the then-third years. A lot of people quit the band, including Nozomi. Kaori-senpai and Yuuko also clattered around, so it was obvious that something happened between them. But all I could do was watch. As a beginner, I was an outsider to everything.”

As Kumiko looked at Tomoe’s face in profile, she really resembled Natsuki when she talked about the past.

——They both wanted to atone for the past.

One year ago, right before the Kansai Competition, to put Natsuki’s sin simply, she caused an awful heartbreaking commotion. All of those senpais one year older than Kumiko still carried along their past that they were supposed to overcome. Nozomi, Natsuki, and even the senpai in front of Kumiko.

“Look, concert band definitely changes when talented musicians show up. For example, when Kousaka-chan showed up last year or like with Asuka-senpai.”

“….Well, you can’t say that mood wasn’t there already.” As Tomoe lifted her lips in a sorrowful smile, Kumiko simply nodded.

While Asuka and Reina held some persuasive power, in the end it was how the band corresponded that was the real strength. Every day the band members would meet each other face-to-face and during practice, they would listen to each other’s music. And even more so for those who played the same instrument. The difference in abilities between people was merciless. That girl is good, that one is worse. Those critiques, without any malice to them, circled around the members like their shadows.

“Really at that time I, the newbie, had no presence. I really didn’t know anything at all. Why is the oboe girl playing all alone? What’s the deal with the sections who’ve determined their seats and the ones who changed? What’s the difference between A and B in competitions? How can you tell that one’s better? Everyone had such heartbreaking expressions. Kaori-senpai lowered her head, Yuuko got upset, and then Nozomi and the others got into an argument with the senpais. So much happened and I was clueless. Before I realized it, they had quit the band.”

At that point Tomoe stopped speaking. She suddenly lost her spark and leaned backwards like she was exhausted.

“But well, now that I think about it, I think it was good for us.”

“Huh? It was good?”

“Twas good. Regardless, it’s over now.” Tomoe spoke indifferently in order to strike away the solemn mood in the room. She smiled, with a tooth peeking out of her uneven mouth. Tomoe felt one of the hair clips adorning her bangs and then pulled it off. The clip was shaped like a heart, smooth on the front. She squeezed the faint yellow heart in her hand.

“In short,” she spoke, “At that time, I didn’t know the hardships or conditions that were going on. Somehow, I think there were a lot of things that we had enough of. Talent, knowledge, and for those involved in the matter, an amazing amount of self-confidence. While I was interested in some of it, I didn’t know what was right for me to say. And I really hated that. That’s why I don’t want these beginners to have those same feelings.”

“So that’s why you became the one to instruct the beginners?”

“Well, you could say it like that.”

Changing her position so she sat cross-legged on the stool, Tomoe glanced up and over. Flattened thighs peeked out from her crumpled pleated skirt. Thin skin from a scar laid on top of her knee cap, forming an elevation above the rest of her skin.

Tomoe’s lips moved up seductively. Her brows twitched and her eyes narrowed as though she was holding back a laugh.

“So? Did you fall for me even more?”

Even more Tomoe’s radiance seeped out. Kumiko reflexively smiled wryly and shrugged her shoulders.

“I’d already decided that I like you senpai.”

“Huh, you do know it was natural for you to like me Oumae-chan?”

“……Well, I can’t deny that.”

Tomoe laughed in satisfaction to Kumiko’s reply. Her throat faintly trembled and the breaths coming out of her nose were scented with joy.

Kumiko crawled her finger across the edge of the pile of copied handouts she made earlier. The gaps between the uneven pages indented into her finger. She murmured into the shadow.

“But it’s because I like you that I worry that you’re pushing yourself too much. You’re only instructing your kouhais now; don’t you have any time for your own practice?”

That was what Kumiko herself really felt. Her eyes, stopped moving around swayed. Her shoulders suddenly sank due to the weight of the atmosphere. The prickling heat roasting her throat might be from the rays emitted by Tomoe’s glance.

Last year Tomoe participated in the competitions only as a B member. If Kumiko were to comment honestly on her performance skill, she couldn’t say that Tomoe’s skill was talented by any standard. With many talented kouhais in the trumpet section like Reina Kousaka and Yume Kohinata, even though you could say she was a third-year member, it wasn’t unlikely that Tomoe wouldn’t be included as an A member.

Although Tomoe opened her mouth, no voice came out. Grinning, Tomoe’s eyebrows lowered pitifully. Her awkward smile mixed softness and bitterness.

“Actually, what I thought you’d say Oumae-chan…”

As Tomoe spoke, the sound of a chime reverberated over her voice.

“Whoa, it’s already this late.”

In a hurry, Tomoe stood up.

Dexterously, she attached her hairclip back and gathered together the scattered notebooks. As she helped out, Kumiko peeked at Tomoe’s expression. Those dark reddish-brown eyes followed Kumiko around like sunflowers following the sun. If you were to trap summer in a pot, it might turn into that reddish-brown color. Kumiko vaguely thought about those stupid things.

“Um, Kabe-chan-senpai?”

“Hmm?”

“What were you going to say earlier?”

“Ah…..”

Tomoe’s movements stopped as though she was in pondering. As her eyes dashed about, she shook her head grandiosely.

“Nah, it’s fine. It wasn’t important. We’ll talk another time.”

“Is that true? I’m a bit concerned about what you were going to say.”

“Huh, were you really that curious? Then you have to keep it a secret.”

“What was it?”

Tomoe lightly cackled in response. The sorrowful atmosphere from earlier had disappeared and treated with playfulness. The person named Kabe Tomoe was incredibly skilled at hiding her real thoughts behind jokes. After serving together on the same post for a couple of months, Kumiko had gotten to know the real softness inside her talkative senpai. That’s why she wouldn’t stop investigating. Kumiko picked up the bundle of papers under her arm and kicked her chair back to where it originally was.

“First we should take these handouts now. Should we take them to President Yuuko and the others?”

“Ah, that’s right. I kinda dozed off, so I forgot about that.”

Tomoe gave a great yawn like she was about to fall asleep again- and in that moment she immediately cringed. She quickly closed her mouth and meekly held her left cheek.

“What’s wrong?”

Tomoe’s shoulders jumped in response to the inquiry. She was acting like a child who had let something slip. Kumiko was confused at this strange expression.

“Could it be that you have a cavity?”

“……Well, something like that.”

“You should go see a dentist. If you leave it alone, it’ll hurt in the future and it might lead to other illnesses.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got my personal specialist that I can go to.”

Tomoe waved her hand in response. As Kumiko looked closer, she couldn’t see any redness on her cheek nor any other strange spots. It seems like that weird feeling she had earlier was her imagination.

Kumiko murmured with a bit of doubt, “As long as you return to good health.”

Tomoe clapped her hands, smiled, and replied “overprotective aren’t cha?”

The first off-day practice after they had been given the compulsory and free pieces’ sheet music was generally assigned to individual practice time. As Kumiko had predicted, the majority of the oboe solo in the third movement had been drastically cut. There was one more solo in the free piece, a short trumpet solo in the second movement. That had not been cut; it stayed as-is.

Kumiko began to dab through the full score with her blue highlight pen. First was the parts she was responsible for playing as the euph, and then the other sections that played similarly were quickly covered in a light blue before she realized it.

“Mic-chan, you’re al-ways playing the basics. Do you love long tones that much?”

Hazuki’s voice resounded as the members were practicing. Most of the section was practicing the pieces for the audition, but Mirei alone was practicing the foundational music from the beginning.

Mirei separated her mouth from her mouthpiece and answered Hazuki’s question, “It’s not that I particularly like these exercises, but I feel this is the best way to easily improve.”

“Oh, so what from these do you pay attention to when you practice?”

“I feel picturing how you want a note to sound is most important. And then you have to consciously be aware of how you can intentionally augment a note for variation. Like you might want to change the volume of the sound to piano, forte, sharper, or softer notes…..”

Satsuki was amazed at Mirei’s explanation. “Mic-chan, do you think about that every time you play? You must have a good head on your shoulders!”

“It’s not that I have a good head; if you only practiced the songs you liked over and over again, wouldn’t your capabilities when it came time to play something else be poor? That’s why I feel it’s best to routinely practice the fundamentals. Pieces themselves are just a small assembly of notes, so if you can master the basics, then you should be able to perform any piece.”

“Whoa, that’s amazing. That’s our Mic-chan!”

“It’s not amazing at all. I think this practice is just ordinary.” While her tone was curt, Mirei’s lips were also squirming. Satsuki looked at Mirei with growing respect. Her hair ties today were paired with plastic strawberries. While they would appear childish for an ordinary high schooler, they suited Satsuki quite nicely.

“Ha ha,” Hazuki stroked her chin as though she were an expert. Nothing good came out of her when she was like this. “Mic-chan, you’re not good at hiding your embarrassment. You should be more honest.”

“I’m not embarrassed at all!”

Even as she replied, Mirei’s face was slightly red. Satsuki clapped her hands as though a light went off in her head.

“I know! Mic-chan, let’s play that together. You know, the game you loved!”

“Huh?” Mirei crinkled her brow in response. However, her mouth was a bit relaxed, so she may not have been as upset as she sounded.

Hazuki was confused, “What’s this game you loved Mirei?”

“I’ve only known about it for a year or so. It’s called ‘Good playing means good relations!” and was something that the band at Minami Middle used to play, so it spread around. You hug someone and tell them something you like about them.”

“Like this!” and Satsuki opened her arms wide in front of Mirei. Mirei looked unhappy, but she still sat her instrument down. Satsuki wrapped her arms around Mirei’s tall body. She was just a bit too short for her arms to meet around Mirei’s back. Sighing, Mirei lowered her body a little. She reached around and shyly met those long arms around Satsuki.

“Mic-chan is such a hard worker! She’s so cool! Even when we’re exercising she’s totally cool! I love Mic-chan!”

“I also…..well I don’t dislike how frank you are Satsuki.”

“You have to say something you like.”

“No, no, that’s stupid. I’m not saying something like that.”

“Why?”

Mirei looked down and away from Satsuki’s earnest gaze. Her eyelashes gently moved up and down and she forced out a response. Her face was bright red.

“After all, it’s embarrassing.”

“No it’s not. It’s common for you to say what you think.”

“Well, you make me want to say anything even less by that.”

“What?”

“Not what? Come on, let’s separate.”

Mirei forcibly removed her arms away from Satsuki’s body. If Satsuki wasn’t going to understand why she wouldn’t say something she liked about her, then Mirei had to do something this harsh as a compromise. Mirei shook her head and dodged what was embarrassing.

“Katou-senpai, do you understand now? This so-called game is just foolishness.”

“Okay, got it. The ones who should be playing this are Gotou-senpai and Riko-senpai!”

The first year members stopped upon hearing what Hazuki said. Kanade, who was changing the tempo of the metronome, stopped moving her hands due to the situation.

“Why would you select those two?”

“That’s because Gotou-senpai and Riko-senpai are the best couple in the bass section!”

The first years completely stopped at Hazuki’s brazen assertion. Motomu, sitting, dropped the bow he was moving around.

Kanade opened her mouth, “Are those two dating? If so, it would have been nice if we had been told earlier.”

Riko and Takuya grimaced upon everyone looking at them. Riko chuckled as her cheeks relaxed and bashfully said, “It’s not like we were trying to hide it.”

“…….Besides, you didn’t have to say it like that.”

In the midst of their bittersweet moment, Natsuki, appearing dejected, began to heckle them.

“Wait a minute, you two began to flirt here every single day.”

“Natsuki! What are you saying?” Riko’s cheeks grew even redder. Takuya had reached a point where he couldn’t take it anymore and curled up. He was probably immensely embarrassed.

“They’re so wonderful, Riko-senpai and Gotou-senpai. Midori is immensely fond of them!”

Beside the spellbound Sapphire, Motomu still glanced around, unable to regain his composure. His hand, supposed to be moving the bow like a machine, had his rhythm go off due to how agitated he was.

Kumiko set down the full score she had in her hands and looked down. “A loveable hug, huh?” Kanade was the only one to react to her murmur. Distinctly isolating herself from that gaze, Kumiko set her instrument on her knee. This game that flourished in Minami Middle meant that likely Nozomi and Mizore played around like this a few years earlier.

The free piece’s third movement’s sheet music had many rests. There were few music notes trapped inside the cage called a measure. Emotionless eyes fixated on the fermatas just above the two measures.

The evening sun began to sink on the base of the mountain. As practice had ended for the day, there were few students remaining in the hallways. As she washed her mouthpiece, Kumiko glanced outside the window. The reddish clouds thinned out like gauze.

“……good work today.”

The sudden shadow near her was Motomu’s. Holding his fine grey handkerchief under his arm, he turned the faucet without looking at Kumiko. Though it was as curt as ever, getting a greeting from him made her happy. Kumiko pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and wrapped her mouthpiece in it.

“What do you mean by good work? Did your practicing go well?”

“Well, somewhat. Midori-senpai gave me some advice.”

“Midori is a bit harsh isn’t she? She was so excited to get a kouhai too.”

“I don’t think she’s harsh at all. Not at all.”

“Oh. Well then good for you.”

“Yeah. Good.” Motomu’s hand, covered in foam, was smaller than Kumiko’s. Nails, similar to tellin, adorned the tips of his delicate fingers. The webspace between his thumb and index finger was reddened, likely from practice. Intrigued by how he somewhat was reluctant to return to the classroom and was silently washing his hands, Kumiko inquired.

“So uh, is there something you’d like to say to me, Motomu-kun?”

“Something I’d like to say?”

Motomu’s brow crinkled. Thinking she hurt his feelings, Kumiko hurriedly voiced some words of apology. “Ah, it’s fine. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. Honestly, I was just curious if you liked Midori, Motomu-kun.”

“I like her. After all, Midori-senpai is amazing.”

The words Motomu immediately spun out were just a bit off from what Kumiko imagined. Kumiko was a bit taken aback by how frank his response was.

“Do you mean in, you know, wanting to date her kind of way?”

“No, not like that at all. After all, I highly respect the kind of godly talent and technique that people like Midori-senpai possess……. After all, isn’t it presumptuous to say that she’d go out with someone like me? I simply wish for Midori-senpai to be together with some completely wonderful guy.”

Motomu stopped his passionate appeal there, dumbfounded. When it came to Sapphire, he was quite talkative.

“Is, is that so?”

Whether he noticed Kumiko pulling back or not, Motomu continued to rub his hands diligently without changing his expression. Thinking he wouldn’t be able to wash them if water didn’t come out, Kumiko turned the faucet. Motomu’s eyes rounded a bit and then he gave a small nod. Likely thanking her.

“…….Midori-senpai is like my older sister.”

The words he mumbled was the first time she heard that fact. After the water washed away the foam, Motomu wrapped his hands in the fancy handkerchief.

“So you have an older sister huh, Motomu-kun? That’s the first I’ve heard of that.”

“Well, yeah.” He gave just a small nod to her. If Motomu, as the younger brother, had this much beauty, then his older sister must be an incredibly beautiful person.

“Midori-senpai is special to me. She’s not someone I’d tarnish with some crude emotion like love…..More like she’s a goddess.”

“crude”, “goddess,” Even if you use them normally, those words have quite the impact to them.

“Ah, that’s why you said it wasn’t like that when I asked earlier.”

“Right.” Putting his handkerchief in his pocket, Motomu glanced over at her with emotionless eyes. Those densely packed eyelashes were abnormally long. There was no shadow of an Adam’s apple on his throat. His body line from his shoulders to his back was tight and narrow. He’ll likely lose this boyish beauty in the near future.

Motomu spoke abruptly, “Please don’t say anything about this to anyone else.”

A nicely heard boy soprano voice. The voice shaking her eardrums soon vanished like a mirage. While thinking it was a bit sad, Kumiko nodded to his request.

Hazuki made both of her hands into fists and rudely slammed them into her desk. As her desk shook, her sandwich bounced up and down. Inside those thick buns were a chicken cutlet and cabbage. Kumiko gulped at seeing the Worchester sauce attached to the plastic hit. Kumiko turned her eyes towards Hazuki as she placed her chopsticks in her lunch. Excited, her voice was twice as loud as usual.

“Well, I was getting really sleepy, so I thought I’d read!”

It was lunch on their off-day practice. Like usual, the quartet of Kumiko, Hazuki, Sapphire, and Reina were having lunch. Since you were free to have lunch with whomever you liked, most of the band would spend it with their friends. Inside the bass section’s classroom, Riko and Takuya ate at nearby seats. A bit away, the first years gathered. In addition to Mirei, Satsuki, and Kanade, the oboist Ririka also joined. Ririka and Kanade appeared really close, so they might be seen as a duo instead. Motomu wasn’t here; he was in the courtyard with other male members. Seems like Shuichi was with him. As she was vice president, Natsuki was in the home economics room with the other executives having a meeting.

“Hazuki, you don’t read a lot of books usually, do you?”

“Nope. Ah, I get sleepy just reading my Japanese textbooks. The next test scares me.”

As they entered June, the end-of-term finals were approaching. Since she was in the humanities division, Kumiko would have a close battle with passing her math exam. Likely Hazuki and Midori would be in the same shape.

Reina silently sliced into her hamburg steak with her chopsticks. The beefsteak plant on top of her steak was split into two and she put a fragment in her mouth.

“Might you be talking about the story of ‘Liz and the Blue Bird’?”

“Yep! Midori brought a ton of books from her house and lent them to Hazuki-chan and Kumiko-chan.”

“It’s great that you went to that effort to lend me it, but I don’t get this at all. It feels like there should be this happy ending, but eh?”

Looking solemn, Hazuki bit into her chicken burger. At that moment, Midori bit into her cream roll. The soft green paste poured out of the ripped areas.

“Midori kinda likes those heartbreaking stories like that.”

“Eh, rather than being heartbreaking, isn’t it more about Liz doing whatever she wants? I think it’d be fine if they could be together if they like. But I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

“Midori also feels that there isn’t a clear way to understand it. In the end, isn’t this the story of Liz saving the blue bird, them becoming a family, and in the end their parting?”

“That’s a crude way of putting it but yeah, it’s like that. What do you think Reina? You’re smart, so what do you think it’s saying”

Reina covered her lips like she was thinking in response to Hazuki’s question. “This is my personal theory, but I believe it’s based on the dilemma of happiness.”

“Dilemma of happiness?”

Hazuki’s voice broke. Kumiko was also frozen at this difficult sounding theme.

“What’s that?”

“It’s where people who have obtained happiness gain the resolve to toss that away. Well, I call it that, but I also don’t know the real truth behind those words. The me I am now is also blessed with happiness, but thinking about when that’ll end is scary. So that’s why it could drive you into a corner mentally. If not knowing when your happiness will end is too scary, then people like that would rather end it themselves or so I think.”

“They went through all that work to be happy and yet they’ll break it themselves? That’s a strange way of thinking. What kind of weirdo are they?”

“Midori doesn’t think that’s weird at all. It’s not rare to see people who want to become unhappy.”

They want to be the protagonist in a tragedy. That type of gloomy desire was surprisingly close to Kumiko. A girl who pushes away all her friends and laments by herself. Despite having a wonderful girlfriend, a boy who cheats and sighs when he gets dumped. While those people are generally rumored, they do suck out the happiness from those around them. Surely that kind of desire is also dormant in people who keep their distance from others and ridicule others all the time. Whether or not they give into those impulses depends on the person themselves.

Reina placed her chopsticks in her lunch container and wiped herself with a wet tissue. “Gets rid of 99% of bacteria.” Kumiko unintentionally thought about those words as she looked at Reina’s smooth skin. In that beautiful world, there was a massive genocide occurring right this moment.

“Liz lets go of that symbol of happiness, the blue bird, herself. I think it’s a story that conveys the lesson of ‘while you may obtain happiness, you’re not guaranteed that you’ll always have it.’”

“You sure do think of some difficult things.” Whether or not she actually understood what Reina said, Hazuki continued to eat her burger with a meek expression.

Sapphire sharpened her lips. “Midori thinks this is a story that depicts free love.”

“Free love?” Kumiko stopped eating her lunch at this unexpected expression.

“Yes,” Sapphire nodded and continued, “I think that the most important thing for Liz is the blue bird. If she really wants the blue bird to be happy, then she should let it return to its original friends. Liz thought about her own happiness and the blue bird’s happiness and felt that the blue bird’s was more important. There are times when you sacrifice your own feelings in order to make someone important to you happy. I think it depicts that kind of thing.”

“That was such a Midori-chan way to put it.” Reina softened her gaze with a look of satisfaction on her face. There were many ways to take the same story. Liz and the blue bird. In the end, it was up to each person to find their own meaning in the two girls’ separation. Kumiko picked up a cherry tomato with her chopstick. That red sphere rolled down and fell on top of her place mat.

“Ah! That’s a waste.”

Hazuki teased Kumiko. Kumiko picked up the tomato with her fingers and tossed it into her mouth. “Three second rule!” smiled Reina. Well, it was probably longer than three seconds.

That night, Kumiko and Shuichi gathered at their usual location, the park in front of the “Tale of Genji Museum.” Since they were busy with the band, it had been a while since they had some time to themselves.

Several small bugs gathered around the light pole. Keeping her distance, Kumiko sat at the bench furthest away from it. Beside her, Shuichi sat with a large straddle while holding the can of juice he bought earlier.

“You know, our auditions are going to be bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“Their pass rate.” Shuichi brought the can to his mouth. Kumiko was a bit shocked upon seeing his Adam’s apple go up and down.

“It shouldn’t be that bad for the trombones. Don’t you have seven now?”

“Well yeah. But there’s a lot of people in the trumpets and horns, so I feel like there’s going to be some arguments.”

“Like last year? Can’t that horrible mood not come this year?”

As she was in charge of instructing the first years, Kumiko roughly knew how they acted. Since they were a large family of forty three, there wasn’t a sense of unity between them. They broke into small groups and spent time without meddling in others’ business. To put it nicely, they were tolerant. To put it poorly, they were indifferent. Regardless, that distance made it so the band was calm right now.

“Since everyone knew that the auditions were going to be determined based on merit alone from the beginning this year, I feel like the results won’t cause people to complain. That doesn’t mean I don’t think there won’t be disputes.”

“Well yeah, I don’t think there’ll be any confrontations, but I think we’ll have some arguments. Like, isn’t there some danger in the euphs?”

“What do you base that on?”

“Looking at vice president Nakagawa and Hisaishi, I can see there’s some disagreement. Every time we perform, I’m behind you guys, so I can see it all.”

“It’s just that…” While it was annoying that Shuichi and everyone pointed that out, Kumiko also felt like that was the issue between those two. “Kanade-chan doesn’t seem to recognize Natsuki-senpai…….I wanted them to become friendly like the tubas, but yeah.”

“Isn’t that something that you can work on yourself? Look, don’t you run the Oumae Counseling Center?”

“Where did you hear that phrase?”

“Hmm? President Yoshikawa told that to me.”

“Again with her?”

Kumiko grabbed her head in reflex. While she was happy that she was being relied upon, calling it by that name added a lot of weight.

“I don’t think I’m great at counseling people though.”

“Seems like you got famous for what you did all throughout first year. The oboist Kenzaki also praised you and recommended you.”

“Ah, Ririka-chan. That girl seems to have a lot of influence.”

Since Ririka had a bright personality, she had a lot of friends among the first year band members. The source of information that was gossiped around the first year members was probably Ririka or Kanade. Those two were the central presence in the first year group.

“It’d be great if I could do it all well though. It’s quite hard!”

Her gaze fell. The thighs peeking out from her skirt might have gotten a bit chubbier than previously. She stretched her finger out to her kneecap and ran her finger on the surface of her skin. She hit the cuff of her skirt before long and stopped her movement.

Perhaps feeling like she was just playing with herself, Shuichi unintentionally shook her shoulder.

“What’re you doing?” He pulled Kumiko’s hand up with his own. It was a large hand. Kumiko liked being in the palm of that hand. What kind of expression would Shuichi make if she joined hands with him? They’d get closer and whisper “I love you.” And then, maybe…… All these delusions running wild inside her head made Kumiko embarrassed. She covered her face with both hands. To escape these impatient urges, Kumiko swayed her legs up and down.

“Wha, What’d I do?”

“Nothing!”

“Is that true?” Looking down at her, Shuichi was truly astonished. Her heart was beating noisily. Kumiko held her cheeks to hide her embarrassment. Underneath her flexible hands, she should feel the heat spreading gradually.

“It’s really nothing.”

“If you say so.” Narrowing his eyes, Shuichi once again drank his canned juice. Looking at his face from the side, Kumiko pondered frivolous thoughts. This is probably how most couples in this world spend their time. They were still searching for the proper distance between them; there had been no sign that their relationship had progressed.

“Ah,” Shuichi winked and looked down as through he remembered something. “That reminds me, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What?”

“Well, it’s not important, but what do you plan to do for the Agata Festival on the fifth?”

The Agata Festival was an annual festival held every year on June fifth until the sixth. Basically it was your ordinary festival, but late at night when the lights are out, people carry around a portable shrine carrying the “Brahma-Deva.” It’s called the “late night bizarre festival.”

“If you were planning to go with Kousaka again this year, I’ll go with the guys. It depends on what you’re doing.”

Shuichi smiled towards her. It seems he really understood the importance Reina’s existence had inside Kumiko. Her conscious aching, Kumiko timidly looked up at her boyfriend’s face.

“Are you really okay with that?”

“Well, we are going out, but that doesn’t mean we have to always be together you know?”

Lighting wavering, the light from the pole cast a shadow inside his hand. Shuichi is kind. But that kindness caused Kumiko to feel agony at times.

“I got it. Then I’ll ask Reina what she wants to do.”

“Okay.” Shuichi nodded. Then as he began to smile, Kumiko glanced her eyes away.

Kumiko felt like time passed slower than usual on Monday morning. The green trains ran every ten minutes, with tons of people stuffed inside them. Taking care not to get sucked into the wave of people, Kumiko slid her body into an open space in front of the door. After several minutes of hanging onto the overhead strap, the sight of her arrival station, Rokujizo Station, made its appearance in front of her.

The train gave a giant shake as it stopped. With the sudden bump, Kumiko’s body tilted forward. Propping it up, was Reina’s slender arm, coming in from the side. Their eyes met. “Thanks.” In response to that short word of gratitude, Reina calmly shook her head.

“It’s nothing. You should be more careful.”

The door opened. Kumiko proceeded out into the vacant station, still charmed by Reina’s arm. Usually this station is crowded with several Kitauji students, so you’d assume it’d be the same at this time too.

Weekday morning practice was limited in the amount of time students had to practice. Kumiko could see the figures of several members of the sports teams heading for their own morning practice on the road to the school. She felt that several of them were a bit lax in their uniforms, likely due to the many jerseys she saw.

“What are you going to do Kumiko?”

Reina’s light brown loafers treaded onto the asphalt. The swaying end of her ponytail flicked into Kumiko’s vision. Usually she kept her hair down, but today she tied it up high. Some strands on the side softly touched her cheek.

“What do you mean by what will I do?”

They changed shoes at the entranceway. Kumiko couldn’t help grimacing at the amount of sand stuck on the bottom of her sneaker. A dusty smell pierced into her nose. Reina stood in the hallway, beckoning her to hurry up. As she quickly rushed over to her, the ends of Reina’s mouth moved upwards.

“You know, the euph solo. Do you plan to play it?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, out of all the euphs, you’re the most talented performer.”

Kumiko gulped down her saliva at those smooth words. Unfortunately, Kumiko lacked any strong words of positive affirmation.

“Hmm, I think so.”

Reina sent over a suggestive glance at Kumiko’s vagueness. “Do you think you’re worse than Natsuki-senpai?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I’d like to play a solo with you Kumiko. Don’t you want too as well?”

“Of course I would, but”

Reina smiled and purred at her response. Kumiko wanted to stand by her side. She wanted to be equal to Reina. That girl likely knew this secret desire Kumiko had carried inside her chest. Kumiko glanced at the girl beside her. Her completely white skin without any pores resembled a pure white ski slope. An environment where no one had yet ventured onto. If she were to reach out, would she obtain that snow in her hand?

Sliding her hand along the railing, Kumiko silently went up the staircase. The music room on the third floor was quite far from the entranceway. Reina, who was further along than she was, showed no signs of sweating. Those eyes of hers suddenly looked up.

“What’s going on?”

In response, Reina put her finger on Kumiko’s lips, saying “shh.” Clearing her hearing, Kumiko could hear the faint sounds of an instrument disappearing into the air. It wasn’t clear enough for her to tell what kind of instrument it was, but anyone who played could tell you it was one. If you limited it down to the people who’d play at this time of day, then it became clear what instrument it was.

Reina shrugged her shoulders. “The oboe…….As usual, Mizore-senpai gets here early.”

“She’s here early on weekdays too, huh? I’m jealous that she lives so close.”

“Well, she probably can’t practice that much in her house.”

“You have a sound-proof room in your house, don’t you Reina? That must be nice.”

“Hehe, want to come over and see it?”

“Can I?”

“Only if we have a break from band practice.”

“Then I still can’t head over.”

As they approached the music room, the sound of the instrument grew louder. The monotonic oboe’s sound played those complex phrases over and over like a machine. Despite those quick passages having such a high level of difficulty, there was no breakdown.

“I’d expect no less from Mizore-senpai.”

Reina nodded in acknowledgement. Mizore still hadn’t begun to deviate from her foundational practices. This girl, who arrived earlier than anyone else, spent the majority of her time focused on foundational practices. Thanks to that steady accumulation of effort, she could perform any piece upon the first time seeing it.

Standing beside the door, Reina put her hand inside the handle. As she smoothly slide the door to the side, they saw Nozomi there, eyes rounded.

“Good morning.”

Mizore and Nozomi sat beside each other in the music room, still in its instructional layout. In response to their greeting, Mizore removed the reed from her mouth and gave a small nod. Nozomi gave a bright smile as usual. “Moring to you both! You two are really eager huh?”

Natsuki and Yuuko sat in the seats behind them face-to-face, separated by a calendar. It wasn’t that unusual for the two heads of the band to practice in the morning. Kumiko and Reina stepped forward into the music room that only held those four people. The two looked around the room and eventually sat beside each other on the left side. Placing her bag on top of the seat, Kumiko went to the music room to retrieve her euph. Once she returned to the music room, Yuuko and Natsuki were arguing as usual.

“My goodness, what were you thinking when you made this schedule? Did a screw fall out of your head somewhere?” Natsuki strongly tapped the calendar with her finger.

Yuuko lifted the ends of her brow. “This amount is common. What do you think I’m trying to do? Be some type of President Queen?”

“Huh? Who would ever call you something like that? You should leave handling the training camp to the other execs in the first place. You don’t have to do everyone’s job yourself, idiot.”

“I told you I could do this myself. Last year Asuka-senpai did it herself too.”

“And I told you earlier that it was only because it was Asuka-senpai that she could do it herself.”

“Are you saying I’m worse than Asuka-senpai?”

“Why don’t you use at least half of your brain? Can’t you consider looking at your limits rationally? Besides, Asuka-senpai was the vice president. She wasn’t someone you’re competing with.”

“I wasn’t trying to compete with her anyways.”

“Then I’ll say it selfishly: please listen to your vice president goddess.”

“Grr,” Yuuko grinded her teeth. It seems like they were quarrelling over the lodging trip. Are they going to be alright? As if she could read her doubt from her expression, Nozomi came over and lightly tapped Kumiko on the shoulder to calm her. She lightly sat on the desk in front of Kumiko and pointed towards Yuuko and Natsuki.

“Those two have been like this all the time recently. I wonder if this is also Asuka-senpai’s curse?”

“What’s that? Asuka-senpai laid a curse?”

Kumiko tilted her head at the restless phrase. Nozomi gave a sarcastic laugh as she shook her shoulders. “No, I don’t mean like an actual curse itself. No, it’s just the tale of building something with a talented person as the base and then once that talented person leaves, everything starts to mess up here and there.”

“However, I feel that Yuuko-senpai is capable to handle this band.” Reina raised her voice uncomfortably despite remaining emotionless.

Nozomi momentarily rounded her eyes and then smiled towards them. She rubbed her hands, “sorry, sorry. It’s nothing against Yuuko herself; it’s just that Asuka-senpai was too talented. I can understand why Yuuko’s pursuing what Asuka did too…..Well, though Natsuki’s been a bit overprotective of her for a while, I can understand how this has turned into just lecturing her.”

Natsuki strongly tilted her head towards the group as though she heard their conversation. “Who’s being overprotective?”

“Whoa, she’s got good hearing.” As Natsuki lightly kept an eye on them, Nozomi playfully put her hands over her mouth. Unable to hide her displeasure, Yuuko puffed out her cheeks similar to Liz’s appearance, and wrote something on the calendar. Seems she was making alterations to the plans along what Natsuki advised her to do.

As she put her energy into writing with the magic marker, Yuuko sharpened her lips. “Ahhhh, mock exams are really the worst. They’re seriously annoying. Why do I have to spend my summer vacation taking these things? I just wanted to devote my time to the band.”

“You’re a prep student, so there’s no escaping it. Even though you have a summer vacation, you get three exams. Congratulations!”

Even though Natsuki was pestering Yuuko by clapping, Mizore continued to silently look over the sheet music. There was probably no deeper meaning in her clapping.

Yuuko shook her head dejectedly. “That’s nothing to congratulate me on! Oh, and having the same first choice of school as Natsuki? This is seriously the worst.”

“We’re going to be friends even through uni too!”

“Wow, I got a bunch of goosebumps just now.”

“And I thought it’d be an honor to be accepted to the same university as myself.”

“What’s with that condescension?”

Trying to ignore those two yapping at each other, Kumiko looked up at Nozomi, still sitting on the desk. “Hmm,” she tilted her head in confusion.

“Have you decided what path you’re going to take Nozomi-senpai?”

“Me? I’m still debating it, but I think I’ll go to a school of music. Well, after three years, it’s a bit too late to make any other plans.”

“Which school do you think you’ll get accepted to?”

Reina jumped into the conversation. As she aspired to be a professional musician, she decided from an early age that she’d go to a school of music.

“I still haven’t started applying yet, but” Nozomi looked behind her and pointed to Mizore. “The same one that Mizore gets accepted to. We’re now planning to go to the same school.”

“Huh? The same one as Mizore-senpai?” Surprised, Kumiko looked over at Mizore. She removed her reed from her mouth and nodded emotionlessly. “Yes. If we get accepted.”

“Wh, Why are you going to a school of music?”

“If Nozomi gets accepted, then I’ll go too.”

Kumiko was dumbfounded. Wasn’t that going too far? Glancing beside her, Reina had that same dubious expression on her face. Feeling that the two kouhais in front of her were feeling a bit weird, Nozomi greatly laughed “Ahahaha. No, no, don’t take her seriously. That was Mizore’s joke.”

Nozomi’s voice was very easygoing. Mizore remained silent and turned her sheet music without making a sound. The only one who thought that Mizore was joking was Nozomi herself. Yuuko stared at Nozomi. Inside that pupil, an uneasy light flicked back and forth. The pregnant atmosphere inside the room cast an uneasy shadow over everyone. Unconsciously, Kumiko gulped.

“Come to think of it, the Agata Festival’s coming up soon.”

The magic marker squeaked as the nib moved on the page. Looking at where that voice came from, everyone looked at Yuuko writing on the calendar while Natsuki rested her chin in her hand. Nozomi accepted the sudden change in topic without any resistance.

“It’s already that time huh? We’ve been so busy that it completely left my head.”

“You know it’s already June? There’s not a lot of time. You should more properly plan…”

“Can you once please separate your head from band activities?”

Natsuki interrupted Yuuko with a disgusted voice. Ignoring that advice, Yuuko covered her mouth and started muttering like she was pondering something. Seems to be something serious.

“Do you have any plans Mizore?”

“I, I’ve got ……….no plans.”

“Hmm, then why don’t we go together?”

Nozomi carefreely asked Mizore as she swayed her legs from the desk. “Huh?” Mizore’s voice was a bit more excited than usual. Her pupils opened so wide that it felt like something would spill out.

“Ye, yes. If that’s fine with you Nozomi.”

“But it’d be a bit lonely with just us. You should come with us Yuuko, Natsuki.”

In contrast to Nozomi’s smile, Mizore’s face stiffened just a bit. Her lips pulled back into a straight line as though she was holding something back. Nozomi didn’t notice this change. Pulling both arms behind her head, Natsuki tilted her chair back. As it moved diagonally, the chair squeaked a bit in anguish.

“Well, I’d like to go this year anyways. However, I think I’d cramp if I go with her.”

“What? That’s supposed to be what I’d say.”

As she rebutted, Yuuko’s gaze was fixated on Mizore. With one glance, Natsuki picked up the magic marker in Yuuko’s hand. As Natsuki dangled that magic marker in front of her eyes provocatively, Yuuko scowled right at Natsuki. “What’re you doing?”

“Well, you were making such a stupid expression.”

“I’m more serious than you!”

As they began to quickly exchange insults, Nozomi soundlessly scooted off the desk. She pulled down the cuff of her skirt to straight out the wrinkles as she walked towards Mizore. Placing her arm on the music stand, she looked down at Mizore.

“Is there anyone you’d like to invite Mizore? It’s fine if there’s someone you’d want to join.”

“…..No one.”

Looking downward, Mizore shook her head. “All right.” That response, indicating that Nozomi was listening to her, was also similar in feel to being dejected. Those lips, always smiling, were hinted with a bit of self-deprecation. Why would she look like that? Unable to predict what was in Nozomi’s heart, Kumiko tilted her head as she held her instrument. Nozomi and Mizore. Where their future lied from here, Kumiko couldn’t begin to guess.

After practice finished, Kumiko and Reina quickly left the music room. They had only around 5 minutes until homeroom began. Lots of students were in the hallways chattering around until the end of the start-of-the-day bell finished chiming. Due to the congestion, it was very difficult for two people to walk side-by-side, so Kumiko had no choice but to walk a little behind Reina. As they passed through the landing in the stairwell, they came face to face with some girls who were excitedly chattering about.

“That’d be really fun to do at night.”

“Fireworks? Prepping the bucket is such a pain though.”

“It’ll be fine if we do it by your house.”

“Then why don’t we go behind your house during the Agata Festival?”

“But I wanted to see the portable shrine!”

“Nope, that’s not happening. If we’re going to hang out until the time that thing comes out, I’ll be out past my curfew.”

“I give up. Oh, why don’t we have a suzu castella party that day?”

“You’re addicted to those things.”

Kumiko heard the shrieks close to her. The girls had similar hair styles with matching hair accessories.

The information she had heard passed right through her brain. Her brain, still immersed in sleep, had completely abandoned thinking. Agata Festival. Fireworks. Suzu castella. Those simple words she heard began to stimulate Kumiko’s eardrums.

“What do you want to do Kumiko?” Reina looked back at her. Her own idiotic expression reflected back from those dark black pupils. “What do you mean?” Kumiko reflexively replied. “For the Agata Festival,” Reina simply replied to her.

“June 5th is coming soon.”

“Ah, yeah. It’s very soon.”

“Going with Tsukamoto?”

A croak came out of her throat. Unintentionally, she swallowed her saliva. Dropping her gaze to her feet, Kumiko also tugged at her skirt for no meaning. Her heart was beating. This wasn’t the good kind; this was the unpleasant kind. All of her muscles stiffened and sweat came down her brow. If she didn’t look at Reina’s face, then she might not feel guilty deep inside.

——-I thought you might understand

One year ago on that day, Reina said that to her. The scenery looking out from Mt. Daikichi was breathtaking. Reina didn’t want to fawn over the masses below. She didn’t want to understand the majority of people. She wanted to be special. Kumiko greatly sympathized with that desire of hers. But what should she do now?

After a year had passed, they had barely changed for better or for worse.

“……What’s with that face?” Reina sighed. Composed, she ran her finger around where her hair was tied up.

“Ah, well, you know, what can I say? I still haven’t decided what I want to do but”

“You want to go with Tsukamoto. After all, you are dating.”

“But,”

“I get it. So, in exchange, bring me a candy apple. If you have time, why don’t you come to my house afterwards?”

The chime sounded and the students began to move. Unlike Kumiko, who was in the general studies course, Reina, as part of the prep course, had to go to the classroom in the deepest part of the building. Reina quickly walked, matching the pace of those around her. That chilly figure gradually disappeared into the flock of summer uniforms.

The bottom of her foot was flat on the ground. Aware of how her abdomen inflated, she took a deep breath. After three seconds she stopped inhaling and then blew into the mouthpiece through to the bell, creating the highest note she could. It was a split note, similar to an elephant’s cry. Not just impactful, the interval between notes was absurd. From there she lowered her power and this time maintained a fortissimo. In order to use this during performances, you need to at least this quality of note. Tick, tick, tick. Matching the rhythm of the metronome, this time she just barely formed a pianissimo. Perhaps due to the large mouthpiece she used, it was difficult to extract all the volume she could in a note. Low notes. High notes. While she repeated playing long tones up the scale, Kumiko searched for her limits as a performer. If she didn’t know what she couldn’t do, then she wouldn’t be able to overcome them even if she poured all her effort into them.

“That rhythm isn’t ta-tatataata, it’s taaatatataata. Get it? Alright, clap that for me.”

It was sectionals after school. Beside her in the classroom, Riko was instructing Hazuki and Satuski how to perform the compulsory piece by clapping it. Nearby, Mirei was performing the free piece smoothly. Even though this was the first time that Takuya, Riko, and Mire had seen the sheet music, their performance was passable.

“Oooh, I’m sorry. We’re taking up so much of your valuable time, Riko-senpai.”

“I’m really sorry too!”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a senpai’s role to look after their kouhais.”

As Riko smiled at them, the two kouhais’ shoulders began to tremble. Since Hazuki and Satsuki were constantly having a rough time with the difficult sheet music, Riko had been constantly giving them tips and advice like this.

In the seat by the window, Natsuki had been playing red-light, green-light with the sheet music. She’d play and then stop. Play and then stop. Over and over again. Since she was weak at producing high notes, she had a lot of trouble with the background melody. Her current success rate was around 30%. In a not too far away seat, Kanade was lightly performing the melody of the first movement. Though one of the main difficult points in the piece was a melody where one note went up and down, she didn’t seem to be having any struggles with it. Despite being able to perform when it was instructed to play legato, Kumiko felt like her notes weren’t connecting because she was over-diligent at ensuring she didn’t play soprano.

Sapphire and Motomu were lined up in the space beside the teacher’s desk as usual. The large contrabass stood on its leg underneath their arm.

Motomu’s hand came to a clean stop from flicking the bowstrings. He checked over the sheet music and said, with an expression of deep thought, “Um, I’m immensely sorry to bother you, but may I ask you something?”

“What would you like to know?”

Sapphire inquired. The bow in her hand soundlessly dropped lower. Motomu looked around the classroom. Once his gaze was above Natsuki, he stopped.

“Why is the contrabass included in concert band?”

Kumiko’s thoughts became disheveled the moment she heard that question. The long tones coming out of her bell trembled. Nearby, Kanade looked at her. Though they were separated from the contrabasses, they could still hear their conversation.

“I’ve wondered that for a while. The contrabass doesn’t seem to be a necessary presence. Other instruments drown out the notes and the audience can’t hear us.”

Kanade’s fingers violently moved above the pistons. This was an up-tempo phrase, but she was able to understand how to properly play every single note. Blowing into her mouthpiece, Kumiko lightly fingered the pistons of her own euph.

Sapphire’s eyes leisurely followed Motomu’s gaze. Softly treating him like a small creature, Sapphire gazed onto his face.

“Motomu-kun, have you heard the notes from outside?”

“What do you mean by outside?”

“Not on the side of the performer, from the audience’s side. I feel like you sense that the sound doesn’t absolutely differ whether the contrabass is there or not.”

Sapphire frolicked around with her bow. A low “hiinn” trembled.

“The main role of the contrabass isn’t about volume; it adds sound to the performance. And if you differ how you play it, it also can create different types of notes from the wind instruments. Holding the ability to change the entire atmosphere of a performance itself, that is the AMAZING power of the contrabass!”

“Right,” as Midori smiled showing her teeth. Those vivid emerald green hair decorations were buried in her fluffy hair. Motomu crinkled his brow. That was the face of someone in pain. Midori once again spun the strings with her bow.

“Instruments aren’t better or worse than one another; there’s no unnecessary instrument in creating music. Let’s look at a pyramid. You might be at the top of the pyramid, but you need a base below you to support you at the top. The contrabass is that kind of base. Its amazing job is to support everyone else without being noticed. That’s why though you play well, you think of some strange things and Midori thinks it’s absurd.”

Motomu’s shoulders trembled as though she hit the bulls-eye. Swimming away, his eyes once again focused onto Natsuki. Ah, maybe that’s it. Kumiko understood why he wanted Sapphire to tell him off. He was afraid that someone else would be removed from their spot because of him.

This year’s new first years numbered forty-three. They added four new members to the base section. And so once you add people, you increase the difficulty of passing the auditions.

Last year’s bass section A-members were two tubas, two euphs, and one contrabass. While they added depth this year, that was due to adding members in the contrabass and tuba. Thus, it was quite likely that the number of euphs would be the same as last year: two. Would the third year Natsuki be included in those two? That was probably why Motomu displayed some lackluster effort towards his own instrument. He wanted some third year to be an A-member instead of his instrument. As his eyes would hold his desire, there was no doubt that Sapphire, who was proud of her talent at the contrabass, would notice it.

“…….I’m sorry.” Motomu hung his head and apologized. Sapphire calmly smiled, “it’s fine now.”

Her fingers, covered in bruises, began to dance on top of the bowstrings. The melody she began to play was the storm scene from the beginning of the second movement. The turbulent notes gradually ate at the atmosphere. Suddenly Kumiko looked at Kanade. She was practicing the euphonium solo with an innocent expression.

“Ah, Kumiko-senpai!”

Kumiko stopped walking as she heard that abrupt cheerful voice. Kanade, who was also placing her case back onto the shelves, looked towards the voice. Swaying her hand inside the cramped instrument room was the oboist Ririka.

“Oh, Ririka-chan. What’s going on?”

“Nothing much. Do I need something from you in order to chat with you senpai?”

“No, Not at all! You don’t need something like that!”

“That’s right!”

Placing her hands on top of one another, Ririka was satisfied. Kanade, who had finished putting her case back, looked over towards Ririka with surprise.

“Ririka, I thought I had told you to stop saying strange things like that.”

“Eh? This isn’t strange at all. This is how I always talk, right senpai?”

“Ah, yeah.”

Kumiko somewhat agreed at the end of her reply. Kanade gave a great sigh watching this exchange. “I’m fine if you’re okay with how you treat her Kumiko-senpai, but I think you should reflect a bit on how you handle your kouhais. There needs to be a certain respect between you and then.”

“So-sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I had a feeling something like this would happen when I introduced you to her……Ririka should show more respect towards her senpais.”

Paying no mind to Kanade’s advice, Ririka grabbed onto Kanade’s arm for some reason. Pressing against her chest, Ririka asked nasally, “why?” In response to her wide smile, Kanade’s brow crinkled.

“But you know, you seriously only speak to others politely Kanade. When you do that, they feel that you’re making fun of them. In my case, I decided to speak with them to show my love and so I think they’re good with that.”

For some reason, Ririka posed seductively. Kanade turned her nose up. “You plaything you.”

“Again and again with that. And yet I love you so.”

“Well, I acknowledge that I love you as well.”

“Wow, so daring! I also love you Kanade! Wanna kiss?”

“I’m fine now.”

“You don’t have to hold back!”

As they were chatting back and forth so quickly, Kumiko couldn’t enter the conversation. Feeling like she was interfering, Kumiko started to leave. Ririka and Kanade had a really close relationship. That was evident to anyone who watched them when they chatted during lunch between sectionals.

In contrast to Kanade, who used several masks depending on who she was talking with, Ririka only had one attitude when she chatted with people. No, perhaps Kumiko was mistaken in that awareness. There was only a vague outline between performance and how Kanade acted. The relaxed expression she had towards Ririka might also be something she consciously did as well.

“As usual, you two are really close.”

Ririka gave an ecstatic nod to Kumiko’s harmless statement.

“That’s right! We’re lovey-dovey!”

“You say that to everyone don’t you Ririka?”

“Are you jealous? Ah, relax a bit. You’re my number one Kanade.”

“And how many people are your number one?”

“Didn’t I say that you were special Kanade? We’re close pals.”

“Are we? This is the first I’ve heard that.”

“You’re soooo mean!”

Covering her eyes, Ririka pretended to cry. There was nothing completely serious about their conversation; they both blurred the line between jokes and seriousness.

“Come to think of it, were you able to become friends with Mizore-senpai?” Kumiko asked about the consultation they had had previously. Ririka abruptly changed from how jovial she was previously to a serious expression as she lowered her head.

“Thank you very much for your assistance in that matter. After giving it my all, I can safely say that we are able to chat casually now.”

“Casually?”

“Things like what the weather is or what we like to eat. You know, things you can talk about with anyone worldwide. It seems Mizore-senpai likes soda-flavored gummies. She’s really cute.”

Kumiko could only shortly reply “oh” to that nonchalantly provided information. From what she said, it looks like their distance had narrowed.

Ririka looked over at Kumiko as though she was searching for something. Her eyelids lowered and raised. Then again.

“Come to think of it, what do you like about Nakagawa-senpai?

“Why’d you change suddenly to talking about Natsuki-senpai?”

As though Kumiko had used her “on-guard” tone, Ririka replied in a joking manner, “Oh noes. I didn’t mean that deeply. I just was wondering what kind of interests the other third-years had. Kanade, aren’t you interested too?”

“I’m not interested in it, but if you are, then I’ll listen too.”

“Ugh, Kanade. You’re such a stubbornhead. I think Nakagawa-senpai is a lovely person. She’s such a kind vice president.”

Ririka sent some suggestive glances over at Kumiko. Not really following what Ririka wanted to hint, Kumiko obediently followed along not wanting to contrast anything she said.

“Natsuki-senpai is certainly kind.”

“But personality and performance talent aren’t related, are they?”

That irritated reply came from Kanade. This wasn’t her usual playful tone; this was a chilly voice.

“I don’t think that much of Nakagawa-senpai at all. Really, not at all. She’s someone I don’t need to pay attention to. She may be a third-year, but that has no bearing on the auditions at all. In general, there’s nothing that girl can teach me despite being a senpai.”

Kanade was awfully verbose, Kumiko murmured internally. Usually, Kanade’s words were smeared all over in politeness. But when she’s in front of friends that she’s opened her heart up to, that smiling mask of hers gradually falls off. She’s still immature. And yet she believes that she has perfect control over her emotions. Kumiko was a bit glad that there was a bit that she couldn’t seal inside. That immaturity of hers was something that was appropriate for her age after all.

Ririka’s grin deepened. She strengthened her grasp on Kanade’s arm.

“So you say, but aren’t you really curious about her? You say ‘no, no’ but you actually like her.”

“Then since you usually say you love me, love me, does that mean you really hate me Ririka?”

“That’s not it at alls. I love you! I love you!”

“That feels a bit weird from you.”

“If I can’t say it, then I’ve got no choice but to write a love letter. Heh, No choice at all.”

“You’re really eager aren’t you? I feel like you’re going to write another love poem.”

“Excuse me for being in love with you. I even devoted my math study time to write that masterpiece.”

“Oh, so that’s why you included terms like cosine and tangent in the poem.”

As those two started to derail, their conversation eventually ended up with them talking about how their teacher would make their next math test. Having lost her timing to leave this place, Kumiko was stuck listening to a conversation that she had absolutely no interest in.

“So you were in here Kumiko.”

What saved Kumiko was the sight of Reina suddenly appearing in the instrument room. Carrying her music files under her arm, she came to inspect the shelves. The moment that she appeared, Kanade shifted her face to her usual loveable smile. This was an easily understandable boundary line for her. When she was in front of many people, she’d play the role of the perfect kouhai.

Ririka innocently cried out, “Thanks for giving it your all Kousaka-senpai!”

“Ah, you did well too.”

Reina lightly waved in response and continued setting her files on the shelf. As the instrument room was a place for sections to store their instruments, each section also had shelves to store personal objects too. On the trumpet section steel rack, there were metronomes, music files, portable stands, and music reference books.

Reina slid her files beside the bookend and looked towards them.

“It’s already time to head home, so how long did you plan on staying here and talking Kumiko?”

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll head out. So, I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

Having found her excuse to leave, Kumiko joyfully followed Reina out of the instrument room. As they entered the hallway, Kumiko gave a giant sigh. As she stretched her arms around, her shoulders cracked.

“Even though they’re kouhais, you seem to be quite interested in those two.”

“That wasn’t what I planned. Since those two happen to have personalities with a kick to them, they became a bit overwhelming.”

“Really? They didn’t seem like the type.”

“Maybe in front of you Reina.”

As they passed through several first year members, they all replied “good work today.” This was one of the various rules that the concert band had constructed over the past year. If you were to miss time, let your section leader know ahead of time. Rinse out your mini-bucket that collects water stuck inside your instrument every time you use it. Conduct a big cleaning of the music room once every month. And then give a proper greeting as you pass by.

Even though these rules were made to ensure that the band operated smoothly, there were various other rules that got added. That in itself was fine. With this large of a club, you needed to have rules to regulate everything. And yet Kumiko looked at the kouhais who were nodding to her.

When greeting a senpai, nod your head greater than 45 degrees. She didn’t know who said this rule, but it had begun to spread as an unspoken understanding amongst part of the first-years. The more independent first years wouldn’t care, but having this forced on the other members felt wrong to Kumiko.

Kumiko moved her face closer to Reina’s ear and whispered, “I don’t like this strict greeting.”

Reina shrugged her shoulders, “Me too.”

“But that type of fad seems like one that won’t stop once it gets going.”

“Didn’t it grow on its own though? Wouldn’t you have to tell someone every time they addressed you?”

“Guess I’ll have to rely on those two representatives.”

“Ah, the ones from earlier. Well, if those two handle it, then it’ll go over well.”

As they exited the hallway, they stood in front of Kumiko’s sectionals room. Not seeing sight of Hazuki or Sapphire, it seemed like they were taking their time tidying up. Kumiko and Reina chose empty seats and decided to wait for them.

“Come to think of it, you’ve become friendly with Kabe-senpai, haven’t you Kumiko?”

Reina spoke as though she remembered something. Cute rounded handwritten numbers were written in the corner of the dark green blackboard. The countdown until test day had already started.

“Well, we’re both in charge of instructing the first-years. So why do you ask that all of a sudden?”

“Hmm, recently Kabe-senpai has been acting a bit strangely.”

Reina put the tip of her elbow on a point of the desk where someone had written with a mechanical pencil. Though she couldn’t see from the angle she was at, Kumiko could tell from the diagram that it was someone pledging eternal friendship to someone else. The date at the bottom was yesterday.

“Auditions are coming up, but she’s barely practicing. It’d be something if it felt like she was only taking that time to instruct the first years but….. she’s been coming and going to the staff room more often lately.”

“Kabe-chan-senpai has been very energetic about helping the beginners for a while now.”

“She may be energetic, but there’s no need for her to go to the staff room for that.” A bit of red flared up on Reina’s cheeks. Agitated, Reina poked her finger into the desk many times over. As she knit her brows, she spoke with a very serious expression, “Maybe she’s been going to the staff room explicitly so that she could meet with Taki-sensei?”

“Ha ha, of course not. No one besides you would do that Reina.”

Having her real motive leaked out unintentionally, Reina silently and lightly kicked Kumiko.

The day of the Agata Festival, it was unfortunately as rainy and cloudy as the forecaster predicted. With how humid it was, the smell of moist earth ran throughout the atmosphere. Pressing her “one-touch” button white umbrella, Kumiko opened it. Many drops stuck to the yellow dots on it.

“It’s coming down now.”

She had set to meet Shuichi at the entrance hall of their apartment complex. His shiny vinyl umbrella was larger than Kumiko’s; it could fit them both. Kumiko had already gotten sick of hearing the pitter-patter of raindrops.

“I thought it’d stop tonight, but of course it wouldn’t.”

“Well, it’s the rainy season so you know it wouldn’t stop that easily. It’s always raining around this time of year.”

“It cleared up last year though.”

“Last year we were lucky.”

A thin film of water stuck onto the asphalt road. Every time the thick sole of her sneaker hit the pavement, tiny ripples formed. Splash, splash. The feeling when it reverberated out of her sole was somewhat pleasant.

“I wonder if any others from the band will come.”

“Some of the senpais from the trombone section said they’d come, but with it raining, they’ll probably give it up.”

“Riko-senpai and Gotou-senpai also mentioned coming.”

“Ah,