I realized at last that it was good to cry at times like this. And before I knew it, tears were sliding down my cheeks. I stretched my arm around my younger brother’s back; he was larger than me now. How long had it been since I’d hugged him closely like this? Something I’d pushed away from my life had jumped right back into me. It felt as if the outline of the world had suddenly been thrown into sharper relief.

Early the next morning I took a walk in the forest. Trampling down the undergrowth, I stroked the rough reddish-brown trunks of the Yeddo spruce with my fingers. I heard a jay screeching from the top of a tree. An overwhelming nostalgia swept through me, along with confusion. Had I really forgotten this place? Was my heart really no longer here? The wind picked up and the scent of the forest grew sharper in my nostrils. Leaves rustled, branches rubbed together. When the still-green needles of the Yeddo spruce fell they made a sound that was outside any musical scale. I rested my ear against a rugged trunk and could faintly pick up the suck of water being absorbed up through the roots. The jay screeched again.

The sound of the mountain at night and the voice of my brother echoed in my ears.

One of Them Is Frozen

Miss Kitagawa asked me to come downstairs, where I found Yuni, the younger of the Sakura twins, waiting for me. My heart did a backflip.

‘Hello,’ she said, smiling confidently and dipping her head in greeting as she always did. It made me want to rush right over.

‘Are you OK?’ I asked, trying to sound as casual as I could.

‘I’m fine.’ Yuni’s cheerful voice was all it took to lighten my spirits.

It had been some time since the twins had cancelled the tuning. We’d heard that one of them could no longer play the piano, but otherwise not a word. I couldn’t very well probe for further details, but it continued to weigh heavily on my mind.

When I’d first heard the news, I couldn’t help but hope it was Kazune who could still play. I wasn’t comparing the personalities of the two girls, it was purely about the piano. I loved Kazune’s playing. I couldn’t stand the thought of never being able to hear her play again. But I felt guilty, too, and bad for Yuni, which is why I was so overjoyed that she had stopped by. Happy that she looked so well. My guilt abated just a fraction.