No, not transformed. Kazune’s always been the same Kazune. The seeds were just starting to sprout when I first heard her play, but then they grew rapidly. The stem shot up, leaves spread and the buds finally started to appear. This was just the beginning.

‘Of course, she was marvellous before, too,’ I said, trying to sound low-key about it, but the boss raised his eyebrows.

‘You always were a big supporter of hers, weren’t you, Tomura? I feel like she’s shown us something extraordinary today, the moment when a person’s standard of playing jumps to an altogether higher level. Or maybe it’s more like the moment when the person herself develops to the next level. I feel as if we’ve been witness to that.’

For some reason he wanted to shake my hand. He held it tightly for a moment, patted me on the shoulder and left.

Mr Yanagi went over to congratulate Kazune and returned, looking pleased. ‘Wow, she’s really something. Really something.’

The twins came over. ‘Thank you for everything,’ Kazune said. ‘Especially since we just showed up without warning.’

Her expression was solemn again, and she bowed to us.

I said, ‘Sorry to make you perform for us on the spot like that. You must have come here for a reason.’

‘No, we just wanted to say hello and to ask for your continued support. I’m really glad you invited me to play – it’s my absolute favourite thing.’ Kazune finally broke into a smile.

‘Actually …’ Yuni began, looking right at me. For an instant I was confused. Yuni and Kazune look alike. I knew that. But still – this face. This look. That’s right – she looked exactly like Kazune did when we’d gone to their house a few days earlier. It was the light in those dark eyes and the flushed cheeks. She’s beautiful, I couldn’t help thinking. Her lips were gently parted, as though holding back words through some giant effort of will.

‘I—find I can’t give up the piano.’

To give up a precious thing, or not give it up. Was that something you could indeed choose? Or was it more likely that such a thing decided itself?

Yuni’s gaze pierced right through me. She said she didn’t want to give it up, and yet there was nothing I could do to help her. This was too much for me, but I held her eyes anyway.

‘I want to train as a piano tuner.’

There was a silence.

I looked at Yuni’s solemn expression and thought: She isn’t giving up the piano at all. There are entrances to the forest all over. And there must be so many routes to walk through it.

To become a tuner. That, too, was surely one way of walking through the forest. A pianist and a tuner walk through the same forest even though they take different paths.