That awkward interaction proved to be our transition into lovers. As days passed, she gradually revealed her true colors: a kisser.

“Yakumo-kun, a chu– please,” she would say.

Chu, just by lightly brushing her lips, her cheeks would turn cherry red, and then she would giggle in satisfaction and quickly run away, like a hit and run viking.

A few days later I could finally figure out her aptitude for synonyms of “kiss.”

By her standard, Yuzuki was too embarrassed to say “kiss” aloud, hence the “chu–.”

Chu–, osculate, bacio, kiss, in order of least to most embarrassing. It was a mysterious ecology.

[TN: “Bacio” is Italian for kiss.]

So when I say, “let’s kiss,” she would turn red and shake her head, but when I say, “want a chu–?” she would meekly comply. Then, I would feel like teasing her and try some other words. As I progressed to the vicinity of “bacio,” she would become upset and get mad at me.

There were other signs too, such as when she came up next to me, her hair pulled back behind her ear. At times like those, my anxiety would spike, should I kiss her? I really wish she would make it easier, my heart wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t used to kissing at all. I like her so much that my heart almost burst when I kiss her. So for a while, when Yuzuki approached me, I would shake like a timid herbivore. It was a pathetic ecology.

 　　　17

As our sweet cohabitation continued, the Chloride Blight steadily progressed.

By the end of May, her arms from halfway down her forearms were gone. Sharp pain filled my chest at the sight of the blank space that was her arms. The rate of progression varies from person to person. My chest tightened every time I wondered how long she had left.

“Do you think it’s time to try the AGATERAM?”

If Yuzuki hadn’t remembered it, I would have completely forgotten about its existence.

From the back of the closet, I pulled out the beautiful box. When I opened the lid, I found the same beautiful silver arms sitting there. It felt like so long ago.

I helped her fasten the prosthetic.

“It fits perfectly!” she exclaimed.

Her face was filled with wonder as she held up the arms. The note said that it was custom-made for her, so naturally, it fits perfectly. The dimensions were probably determined from her performance videos and other sources.

The package also included a smartphone app downloader. I used that to activate the arms.

Poof! Yuzuki shook, startled by the sound.

“What’s going on? It’s moving! It moves!”

Silver fingers wriggled. The movements were surprisingly smooth and noiseless, like a spider moving. From the app, a few more initial steps were made and the prosthetic was fine-tuned to her. After all the sequencing, the hands were already moving freely to some extent. Yuzuki looked at her fingers as they closed and opened, as if she were looking at some priceless gem.

“Wow… This is amazing… So beautiful… Heh!” Her arm snaked out and quickly pinched my nose.

“Ow, ow, ow…”

“Ahaha!”

I cried, not because of the pain, but from her delighted smile. 

Her face then suddenly lit up. “Maybe I can still play the piano with this!!”

We hurried to the nearest place that sells pianos. On the way, we bought a pair of black leather gloves that could hide the AGATERAM. We thought it would be bad to reveal Emil’s business secret.

In front of the piano on display, Yuzuki placed both hands on the keys.

She took a deep breath.

It was the piano she had lost once. Simply being able to touch it again must have been a miracle for her, and to know that she would have lost it again soon. Whatever happened, there was nothing but sorrow awaiting.

She began to play.

I shivered.

It was the continuation of what she left off at Chopin International competition. Of course, it wasn’t as beautiful as it had been then, and the tempo was much slower. But there was something that surpassed her former performance.

Yuzuki shed tears as she played. When she finished playing, she buried her face in my chest and cried, her voice cracked. I gently patted her back until she stopped crying.

 　　　18

In the beginning of July, we stepped once again on the Polish soil in Warsaw. Yuzuki wanted to meet Emil and his daughter there.

We visited the Chopin statue in Lazienki Park, Chopin’s birthplace in Żelazowa Wola, the Chopin Museum Pleyel… and other places we haven’t been able to visit last time, and then went to the Wieliczka salt mine in Krakow, a World Heritage Site.

And then it was finally the day when she was to perform for Miaha.

Yuzuki was adjusting the AGATERAM in the white dawn light streaming in through the hotel window. The Chloride Blight was advancing by the minute, so she had to strap it hard so that it would fit snugly in her arm. There was tension in the air, as if a gunslinger was meticulously servicing his gun.

Yuzuki spent no small amount of her life span preparing for this day. After purchasing the electronic piano, she practiced five hours a day.

“Half measures isn’t what Miaha-chan would want—” she said.

She connected headphones to the piano so as not to cause disturbance to other rooms, so I, too, wasn’t able to hear her play.

Since there was no use in being by her side, I busied myself with the keyboard. As I did so, I realized that human beings are essentially solitary. Like two boats moving side by side on a canal. For a time they may seem to be one boat, but eventually they are destined to be separated in the boundless sea.

July in Warsaw was cool.

The temperature was 20 degrees Celsius today. The clear blue summer sky seemed to make the sound of the piano soar. The streets of Warsaw also appeared peaceful on this calm and beautiful day.

As the day got later, we moved to a room I rented at the Chopin Music Academy. It was a day off from the start, but the fact that there was hardly a soul in the room may have been due to the Academy’s thoughtfulness of Yuzuki’s disease.

Emil was a slender gentleman with a long nose and kind droopy eyes. With his silver thin-framed glasses, he looked exactly like how I had imagined him to be. His brown suit was old but meticulous, although the color had faded a little. His overall getup combined with his height, he looked like a grandfather’s clock.

“Hajimemashite, kyou wa arigatou gozaimasu. Kanshakangeki desu,” He greeted in pretty much broken Japanese, but I could tell that he had practiced hard.

[TN: “Nice to meet you, thank you for today. I am beyond grateful.”]

Then he hunched over and shook our hands. He was already smiling as if he was about to cry with joy.

Behind his long legs, a meek, tiny girl appeared.

She was as cute as a doll. Wavy golden hair, sky-blue eyes, and a wide, round forehead. She was wearing a light blue dress with white lace and ribbons. She had dressed up well for today. Her arms were missing from the elbows. 

This was undoubtedly Miaha-chan.

Yuzuki spoke to her in Polish. Miaha smiled, twisted her body shyly, and said a few words. It was heartwarming.

Emil set a camera on a tripod. The sunlight coming through the window fell diagonally onto the keys. He said he would send me the performance later. I sigh in relief, on the way here, I forgot to bring the camera with me.

Yuzuki came to the grand piano and bowed impishly. She was dressed in a pure white satin dress. The AGATERAM shone and twinkled in the light.

We applauded Miaha-chan most enthusiastically.

She sat down and sent a lingering glance at the stuffed Anpanman. Through the years, the good luck charm had remained her constant companion.

Her hands slowly laid on the keys, she sucked a deep breath.

I gulped. It was back, Yuzuki and piano, one and the same. A beautiful instrument.

The AGATERAM played a soulful forte that paddled out into the silence. In no way inferior to the biological arm, the metal limbs ran the notes smoothly. 

White keys intertwining with black—

It was the Venetian Boat Song.

All at once, my childhood memories came flooding back. The days, the months, the years after I met Yuzuki.

The memory of a beautiful young girl who unabashedly compared her own performance to that of Maurizio Pollini. The girl who talked about mellowness and ethereal at the age of seven, the girl who wished she could experience heartbreak soon. The girl who seemed to mature for her age, who devoted herself to piano.

In a flash, those memories bloomed and flourished inside me like a vivacious flower. 

The performance snatched my soul.

Pure, unadulterated, pristine. Grains of notes were like shards of glasses. I couldn’t believe that a human being was playing this heavenly music.

I could see it. The gondolas, the people, the waterways of Venice. The sea with its depth and darkness, and the sky bright and boundless.

The music produced by the AGATERAM was sparklingly beautiful, as if light had scattered on the surface of the water.

Romantic yet nostalgic. So familiar… so, so familiar.

I wept.

Nostalgic and melancholic, two emotions fused together, as though cherishing and regretting the days gone by.

The boat sailed on, swaying along the flow of time. The canals of Venice morphed into the streets of Warsaw.

The old cityscape, which had been destroyed…The sound of prayer, polished by time, showed the streets long gone. A gentle rain of prayers and bouquets of funeral flowers were sprinkled on the wounded city. The unwavering wish that Warsaw wouldn’t die.

Silently, the power of prayers, of wishes had brought forth life and hope once again.

Tears gushed out. I cried like I never had before.

There was a smile on Yuzuki’s lips.

A pure hymn from the fragile human soul.

Emil was holding his mouth with both hands and crying as if he was about to break down. His tears were dripping down his glasses in a tiny sea.

Miaha-chan’s eyes were sparkling. They were as clear as the blue sky, the kind of eyes that belong to a child watching the world’s purest beauty.

 　　　19

When the song ended, we applauded like there was no tomorrow.

Yuzuki walked up to Miaha-chan with the Anpanman.

Her eyes sparkled.

She spoke in Polish, but from the light on her face, I knew the meaning by heart. “It was a wonderful performance!”

Yuzuki smiled gently.

“Thank you. These arms look pretty, don’t they?”

“They are!”

Play

Unmute

“Your dad made this for me.”

She spared a dubious look at her crying father.

“Really?”

“Why would I lie? He made these arms for me.”

Miaha-chan looked up again.

“I sure did!” Emil wiped his tears, “You want to play piano like her, right? I’ll make sure you got to do just that.”

Yuzuki smiled like the sun. “I know you can do it! It’s not an easy road ahead, but this,” she pushed the doll into her hands. “Will give you strength.”

Miaha-chan gasped, then accepted the doll, and hugged it tightly with her short arms. It was as if she was hugging her own heart.

“Thank you!”

Anpanman’s red cape swayed gently with her movements.

　　　20

Twenty minutes later, we were on our way to catch the evening flight.

The setting sun shone through the glass wall and painted the airport fiery red. The people passing by looked like shadowy characters. It felt like the ending scene of a movie.

Then the deja vu hit me. Long ago in an empty movie theater, the title and plot of which I no longer remembered, I had seen this scene once. I cried alone in the empty theater, the tears didn’t stop until I got home. A memory I can no longer recall…

Somewhere, in the same dusking sky, Miaha-chan was out there. It was a peculiar feeling.

The Farewell Song was playing softly. I recognized the man playing the piano. It was the same man who had played Waltz No. 13 on my first visit to Chopin Airport, a stocky man with a thick beard.

We might have met again by chance, but I couldn’t help but sense a deep sense of kinship with him.

My gaze lingered on him.

He noticed me and smiled. I smiled back.

We boarded the plane, fastened our seatbelts, and settled down.

Yuzuki turned to me. “So, what do you think about my performance back there?”

“Amazing. I can’t even describe in words how good it is.”

She smiled mischievously. “I’ve had my heart broken three times, no thanks to you.”

[TN: Call back to Ch1 where she said that to understand Venetian Boat Song, you have to have your heart broken trice]

“Wait, me?”

“I’ll give you time to think about it.”

I still hadn’t got a clue.

She frowned, then bloomed into a grin.

She looked past me out of the window. The dusk deepened. “Looks like an ending of some goofy movie, don’t you think? It has been a long way… I doubt Miller’s film would be a match for this.”

“Totally agree.”

“But, you know, I’m happy. I’ve got to be someone’s hope. She looked up to me, Yakumo-kun. I’m so happy. I’m glad things turned out like this.”

The plane took off. Yuzuki stared unblinking at the shrinking city.

“Goodbye, Warsaw.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks.

They were not the deep blue tears of sorrow, but pure, transparent tears.