My Lie in April

Chapter 3

We are in the town's cafe, Friend A and I. It smells of coffee and pancakes. Waffles too. We take our seats at one of the tables. He's smiling at me. Why? He's just Friend A after all.

Behind us, there are two kids playing the piano. I look over my shoulder and walk over to them as they play 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.' They miss a key and sigh. I crouch down beside them. "Hey, the boy over there plays the piano really well, so why don't you guys ask him to teach you?" I look over my shoulder and see him spit out his hot chocolate. He is clearly surprised. I can tell he doesn't want to play.

"For real!" the girl exclaims, eyes gleaming.

"No, I-I don't really play the piano anymore," he confesses.

I kick him in his shin. "Don't dissapoint children!" I whisper demonically. He walks over to the piano with fear of me kicking him again. He takes a seat next to the little girl. He plays 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star' with a smile on his face. He was happy. But then he stops, his face filled with shock and horror.

"Sorry. I'm really sorry," he whimpers as he walks out the door. I follow after him. What happened? Why won't he play the piano? Why did his expression darken a fourth of the way through?

I see him crouching beside a black cat under a tree. I walk towards him. "So you don't play piano anymore?"

"You knew about that?"

"Winner of the Moriwaki Students' Piano Competition. The youngest winner in history of the Saiki Competition. Your playing style was accurate and discipline. A human metronome. You were a prodigy who performed with an orchestra at eight."

"Wow. I'm impressed that you know that much."

"There isn't a single musician out there of our generation that hasn't heard of you. You are who we look up to. Why did you quit playing?" I ask as the cat purrs at the touch of our hands and the petals fall above us.

After a long moment of silence, he answers,"I can't hear the sound of the piano." His face darkens like before. My eyes grow wide with shock. "How cliche is that, right?" he smiles. I can see right through you. I can see the sorrow and pain in your heart. I just don't know why it's there.

"But you were just playing at the cafe," I say confused.

"I can hear it at first. But somewhere along the way, the more I concentrate, the more I get consumed by my performance, the sounds I play... fade away from my reach, dancing up like flowers seized by the spring wind... and vanish." He has a blank look on his face, as if he was somewhere else. As if he was being consumed by his memories.

"That's why, you just--"

"It's only the sound of my own playing that I can't hear. It's a punishment. I can hear the sounds of my fingers striking the keys, and the sound of the keys sinking. But I can't hear the sound of my own playing. If it's not a punishment, then I don't know what it is."

"Stop being such a baby!" I yell. He falls with shock. I kick him again. "You're so negative! Play even if you can't play! Have you tried playing with a stick between your teeth, like Beethoven? If you don't play, then you are truly lost! You are a musician! That's what we do! We play!" I'm sorry. I'm doing this for myself I guess. It's a good reason, but I'm dragging you into this for my own well being. It's not fair, I know. I truly am sorry. "Whether you're sad, you're a mess, or you have hit rock bottom, you still have to play! That's how people like us survive! Why we continue to live!"

"Well, maybe that's true for you," he smiles. You are so naive Friend A. Why? Why must you give up so easily? Can't you see that I am suffering too?