I had given up on art, for example – or more specifically, on paintings. I simply didn’t understand them. At primary school, up in the mountains, there was a field trip once a year, when we were taken by bus to an art museum in a big city. They called it the Art Appreciation Outing. But even if I looked at the exhibited paintings, and thought, Isn’t that beautiful, isn’t that interesting, it never went further than that. Beyond finding some paintings beautiful, I couldn’t grasp what might be special about them.

But maybe that was OK, after all. Simply to know what you like and not worry about why. If it made you feel good, perhaps that was enough. So I decided to stop stifling myself with such thoughts as I don’t understand art, or That’s not the way to appreciate it.

And then, at the age of seventeen, I heard that piano in the gymnasium, and for the first time I felt like shouting aloud. Unconsciously, that’s what I’d been seeking – that instant, unambiguous emotional response.

Back in the car with Mr Itadori, I muttered, ‘I don’t think I’ll give up.’ There was no reason to give up. I could see clearly what was needed and what wasn’t.

Mr Akino was there when I got back to the office. ‘So how was it?’ He seemed genuinely interested rather than looking for a chance to pour scorn.

Thoughts had whirled around in my head as I watched Mr Itadori tune but I didn’t mention any of those. If this man was going to have a retort for everything I said, I decided to keep it short and simple.

‘I thought the pianist and the audience must be exceedingly lucky to hear that piano in concert.’

For a second Mr Akino’s dark eyes widened behind his glasses. ‘Really?’ he said. ‘So how did he handle the voicing?’

‘I don’t know the details,’ I answered honestly. ‘But it was the first time I saw in practice that changing the direction of the piano legs could adjust the projection of sound so profoundly.’

In tuning school we’d been taught that changing the direction of the brass casters on the bottom of the legs alters the piano’s centre of gravity. Mr Itadori showed me how this works in a way that was easy to follow. If you place your hands wider than your shoulders when you do push-ups it changes how you have to apply your strength, putting more pressure on your core. With the piano, moving the casters adds more power to the soundboard. Using this concise analogy of push-ups, Mr Itadori explained that as he moved the direction of the casters it would be like lifting the entire baseplate of the piano with his back. This alone was enough to alter the resonance dramatically.