I'm No Longer Friend A

Part I

Kousei

It's been four years since Kaori passed away, and Kousei misses her everyday. If the first four years were this long and boring how is he supposed to survive the next eighty without her? When she died he first thought his life would return to it's original monotone, but it's still as colorful as the first spring when he met her. He felt the closest to her when he played, almost as if she was standing next to him. He could practically feel her teasing him in her usual way, telling him I told you you should enter that competition, aren't you glad you listened?
I wish I could tell her that I'm glad she forced me to play again, but I can't because she's gone. Today on the four year anniversary of her death, I decided to play at the only recital hall where we ever played together. Now that I'm this prodigy I could play practically anywhere if I pulled a few strings. Everyone made sure to remind me of that tonight, they were all confused as to why I would choose a small unknown recital hall. To be honest I probably would ask the same thing, but tonight of all nights I want to feel close to her. The hall is fully booked, but I don't care. I'm waiting backstage excited for one reason: I want to play for Kaori tonight; I want my sound to reach her. I took a deep breath as I walked onto stage, as I sat down on the bench I felt the familiar crinkle in my back pocket. I kept Kaori's note with me like I did on every anniversary of her death. With calm fingers I played the first note, hearing the sound reverberate against the walls of the concert hall.

I hope you can hear me Kaori.