Allegro- (Your Lie In April)

Chapter 3- Broken Hearts

A/N

Thank you so much guys for 100+ reads, I really appreciate and hope you all are enjoying the story. Don't forget to vote and leave any comments that you all have. Also sorry for the long descriptive paragraphs, I'm trying to keep it interesting enough without too much dialogue. I just got recruited to run at University of Illinois at Chicago so I've been excited all day, anyways here we go.

Back at the Arima Residence:

Kousei entered the house by himself, Tsubaki and Watari had gone to their houses in order to change and get ready while Hiroko and Koharu had gone to the local market to buy any necessary supplies for tonight.

"Hey Mom," Kousei said as he entered his mom's room and looked at her shrine, "I did it mom, I played again, played without fear. I hope you're proud of me, if Kaori's up there with you, please protect her." Kousei exited and climbed the stairs towards his room. He was absolutely exhausted and a bath sounded perfect at the moment. He entered his room and sat on his bed, taking his shoes and socks off. He climbed down onto the floor to reach for his notebook. He grabbed it and pulled it out, then reaching for the pen he had on his desk. He opened it and looked at it for awhile, pondering on what he could write about. Nothing came to mind, so he decided that he would write something later. He tossed the notebook and pen on his bed and left towards the bathroom. He turned on the hot water and let it fill up. He wanted to relax as much as possible and the sensation of warm water did exactly that for him. He lit a cherry scented candle and decided to play a song on his phone because why not. He scrolled through his options. Not known to other people, including his friends, classical music wasn't the only thing that Kousei listened to. Sure that's what he performed, but eventually he wanted something more modern to listen to . His mom was a huge American artist fan, having grown up in the world of Biggie and Tupac, but Kousei wasn't this too deep into rap. He preferred more melodic music. He decided on some random alternative genre song that Kashiwagi had suggested one day. He didn't know the artist by memory, but decided it was better than Mozart for the moment, plus he wanted a break from classical, it had caused him enough pain already. He got into the tub, relaxing his head and closing his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of English lyrics.

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It was 4:40, Watari was on his way to Kousei's house. He wore a simple outfit, consisting of a white t-shirt with a sweater on top, and black jeans with white converse. Kousei had said to wear comfortable clothing so he here he was. And to be fair, Watari hadn't payed much attention to his outfit, his mind was elsewhere. Why hadn't any person contacted them about Kaori's surgery? He didn't ignore Kousei's breakdown, but at the same time, who actually knew what had happened to her. He decided to keep it to himself, he was sure they would be contacted soon about it, and honestly if he visited the hospital, he probably wouldn't feel very welcomed.

You see, Watari had hit that point in life where he was questioning his life. Everything he had been apart of in the last year, it had had an impact on him. He jerked his head up as heard the roar of the train coming, the same one the group had always passed on walks or adventures. Highschool was only two months away and he had no idea where he was going to be at that point. Kousei was obviously going to go to some big music school, Tsubaki was staying local, but him, he had no idea. A few coaches had talked to him to look into their schools, but Watari had found nothing that interested him. Alongside that, he started questioning what type of guy he wanted to be. Sure the playboy lifestyle gave him all the attention he could want, but he had never felt more alone in life because of it. He put these thoughts away as he arrived outside of Kousei's driveway. He figured he'd wait outside for Tsubaki since the two are usually late to everything. He leaned against a tree, his hands in his pockets, whistling a tune.