‘I think you’re right.’ The MD was leaning over to eavesdrop on our conversation. ‘I always thought it odd that someone like you would become a tuner. I wondered why Mr Itadori had recommended you so highly.’

So Mr Itadori had recommended me? I thought they hired on a first-come, first-served basis.

‘What do you mean – someone like me?’ I asked.

‘How should I put it? A person who was raised, well … someone with an upbringing like yours.’

Miss Kitagawa had said the same thing to me before. And I don’t think she had meant it as a compliment. It felt as if she meant someone bland and boring.

‘But now I think someone like Tomura is the type who can make his way, very patiently, persistently, step by step, through the forest of wool and steel.’

‘I think you’re right,’ Mr Itadori agreed generously. ‘Because Tomura lived in the mountains, and the forest raised him.’

‘This is delicious!’ Miss Kitagawa suddenly said loudly, interrupting everyone. ‘Oh – sorry!’ she said and looked down.

‘The soup? It really is scrumptious.’ This came from Yuni, chiming in.

Thanks to which, the echoes of Mr Itadori’s comment faded away before I could really ruminate on it. Lived in the mountains, raised by the forest. Was that the case? The idea made me deeply happy. Clearly a forest had been growing within me as well.

Perhaps I hadn’t taken the wrong path after all. Even if it took time, even if there were detours, this was exactly the right path for me. I had thought there was nothing in the forest, nothing in the scenery around me, but now I knew: everything was there. It wasn’t that it was hidden, but that I simply hadn’t seen it.

Relief washed over me.

‘Do you know something?’ Miss Kitagawa wiped her mouth with a white napkin. ‘There’s lots of sheep farming where you grew up, isn’t there? I was thinking how the Chinese character for good or excellent, , contains the character for sheep, .’

‘Really?’

‘And I read recently how the character for beauty, too, , is derived from the character for sheep.’

She contemplated this for a while, and then added, as though further details had come back to her, ‘In ancient China, sheep were like the gold standard for everything. They were sacrificed to the gods, too. Isn’t that what you are always doing? Doing your utmost to find the good? The beautiful? When I realized that all of these words are derived from sheep, I thought – you know what? They’re already there, inside the piano, from the very start.’

She was right. From the very beginning, the good and the beautiful are already there – inside that mighty, gleaming instrument.

I looked over and saw that Kazune was just beginning another piece. And it was indeed beautiful and right.