Around the same time as yesterday, Kiyotaka, holding an unopened can of black coffee, headed toward that rooftop once again.
This time, his objective was clearer than ever before—it was near the flower bed where he had spoken with Takamatsu Tomori yesterday.
When saying goodbye yesterday, Takamatsu Tomori had said, “See you tomorrow.”
Although he hadn’t given any verbal response at the time, judging by Takamatsu Tomori’s inscrutable wave-length logic, Ayanokouji believed there was a high probability she would treat those words as a unilateral “promise.”
Besides, her home was nearby, and the probability of her passing by here after school wasn’t low to begin with.
When Kiyotaka walked to the corner of the stairwell, he found that Takamatsu Tomori was indeed already there.
She was squatting near yesterday’s spot, keeping her head down and attentively picking up something from the ground.
“Good afternoon.”
Kiyotaka greeted her in a flat voice and walked over.
Hearing the voice, Takamatsu Tomori turned her head.
After recognizing who it was, her pink eyes lit up slightly.
“Ah… Good afternoon.”
Her voice remained very soft, and she didn’t flash a bright smile like ordinary female students.
But judging from her slightly hurried movements as she stood up and her marginally relaxed shoulders, her mood had clearly elevated somewhat because of Ayanokouji appearing as promised.
Kiyotaka walked to her side, his gaze falling upon the few irregularly shaped stones clutched in her hand.
Just like yesterday, maintaining a distance that didn’t infringe upon each other’s territory, the two began a wave-length style chat about stone types that outsiders would have zero patience to listen to.
As they were talking, a brisk and hurried sound of footsteps came from the slope behind them.
“Tomori-kun!”
A crisp, vibrant girl’s voice rang out.
Kiyotaka turned around.
Sakiko was seen jogging down the slope, holding a thick sheet music folder, her blue twin tails tracing a beautiful arc under the setting sun with her movements.
However, when she ran up close, out of breath, and saw the boy in an unfamiliar uniform standing beside Tomori, her footsteps paused slightly.
In her eyes, bright as gold, flashed a momentary, instinctive confusion and slight scrutiny.
“Tomori, who is this…?” Sakiko looked at Kiyotaka, then turned to look at Takamatsu Tomori.
Takamatsu Tomori glanced at Ayanokouji, seemingly wanting to make an effort to introduce this newly acquainted “friend,” but her already meager social vocabulary made her hesitant to speak casually.
After hesitating, she let out an airy “gu” sound and introduced him cautiously:
“H-He is Ayanokoji-kun.
He’s someone who… can understand ants speaking.”
Wouldn’t this way of introduction directly cause the other person to judge him as a “weird boy who needs to be kept at a distance”?
Although from an objective standpoint, in order to gather information over the past few days, he had indeed engaged in a certain degree of stalking behavior toward the two girls before him, so it wasn’t entirely an injustice. Read the latest chapters at novelping.com.
However, much to Kiyotaka’s surprise, upon hearing this somewhat absurd evaluation, the blue-haired girl opposite not only didn’t show a guarded or disgusted expression, but instead nodded, wearing a look of sudden realization.
Being able to communicate without barriers with a child like Tomori, who liked to immerse herself in her own world, and being accepted by her so earnestly—
Then deep inside this boy’s heart, there must be some kind of shining quality.
Sakiko simply thought this, and then spoke:
“Hello, Ayanokoji-kun.
I am Sakiko, and I’m also Tomori-kun’s friend!”
Sakiko revealed a bright smile without a trace of gloom, taking the initiative to greet Kiyotaka.
The completely undefended sense of ease in her tone made even the air feel cheerful.
“Hello, I am Kiyotaka.” Kiyotaka responded simply.
After getting acquainted, Sakiko’s attention was immediately occupied by the thing in her hands.
Excitedly spreading open that thick sheet music folder in front of the two, she showed Takamatsu Tomori the complete version of the song “Wanting to Become Human” that she had composed overnight.
That was a complete melody she had extracted and sublimated bit by bit after improvising a performance for Tomori based on those diary-like, disorganized words Tomori had written yesterday.
Kiyotaka stood quietly to the side, maintaining an appropriate silence, his gaze falling upon the dense musical staves.
Until Sakiko pointed to a certain chorus and said with some distress that the handling of the modulation didn’t seem coherent enough, did he casually bring it up in a flat tone:
“If you want to express the struggle of ‘desire,’ cutting directly from C minor to the parallel chord of E-flat major might transition more naturally than the current dominant seventh chord.”
In that White Room, when the instructors taught piano, it was with a cold teaching method akin to analyzing mathematical formulas, telling them “how to use specific chords and scales to simulate and express various emotions.”
Therefore, although Ayanokouji’s current heart could not truly understand what kind of emotion “desire” really was, his brain clearly knew how to express this emotion using the most precise musical language.
“…Eh?” Sakiko was slightly taken aback, shifting her gaze away from the sheet music and looking straight at him.
Kiyotaka looked at Sakiko’s somewhat surprised expression: “Sorry, seeing the sheet music, I just casually said a bit more.”
However, Sakiko didn’t seem to have any intention of blaming him for speaking out of turn.
After a brief shock, her eyes instantly lit up, displaying the excitement of suddenly meeting a kindred spirit during creative inspiration.
“Ayanokoji-kun, you also understand arrangement?
You play the piano too?!”
“A little.”
“To what extent?”
“I’ve studied the basic courses.”
“Then what about classical pieces?
Etudes, sonatas, have you played Chopin?
What about Debussy?”
“I’ve studied some of all of them.”
Sakiko’s breathing noticeably quickened by a beat.
She took half a step forward and pressed on, “Then what can you play?”
“Basically everything the teacher taught, I can play.”
“A teacher?
Who is your piano teacher?”
“My father’s arrangement.”
Considering that getting along with people required sincerity, Kiyotaka stated the facts without any deception, “Around the age of seven, he formulated a sufficiently scientific and efficient music curriculum for me.”
Facing Sakiko’s machine-gun-like and increasingly professional questions, Ayanokouji answered them one by one.
“Bach’s “The Well-Tempered Clavier,” if it’s the C minor prelude, when handling the independence of polyphonic voices, how do you maintain a crisp texture between the left hand’s staccato and the right hand’s legato?”
“Don’t over-rely on the soft pedal.”
Kiyotaka answered lightly, “It mainly relies on the independent exertion of the fingers.
The second and third joints of the left hand remain stable the moment they touch the keys, while the strength of the right hand transfers to the side of the fingertips, separating the timbres by slightly adjusting the touching angle.”
His sufficiently solid music theoretical knowledge, just like reciting program code long engraved in his brain, precisely answered every professional question Sakiko asked.
There was no implication of showing off, merely stating objective facts one by one.
Yet precisely this unfathomable strength combined with a complete lack of airs, as if everything was taken for granted, held enough attraction for “Shiro-Sakiko” at this moment.
Her gaze looking toward Ayanokouji grew brighter and brighter, until she couldn’t help but praise:
“That’s amazing desuwa!”
Sakiko clasped her hands together excitedly, bright stars twinkling in the depths of her eyes, “Ayanokoji-kun, please be sure to let me hear your piano playing!
Tomori, you come too!”
Having said that, she didn’t give the other party any chance to refuse, taking on the posture of wanting to drag the two to her home’s music room right this instant.
Watching Sakiko walking ahead with brisk footsteps due to her pleasant mood, Kiyotaka slowed his steps by a few beats in place.
Judging from the other party’s micro-expressions and body language, there was no intention of joking or being polite.
Now, entering the Togawa main residence…
“For real?”
…