I remember the first time I saw her.
Kaori Miyazono, perched atop a surface, playing a children's recorder and tapping her feet as she danced to her melody. Attracted to the playful sound, children cheered and whooped around her, showing their appreciation for the clear tune with yells of glee. I was also attracted to the noise, but I was more attracted to her.
It was later that day, when the sunset signalled evening, that I thought over the aqua tint of her eyes as they shimmered in the sun, and the tears that glowed as they swam over her delicate lashes, then over her cheek. I remembered that a few other musicians around me had been captivated by her playing, and how they had recorded it on their phones, so I dug deep into my pocket and found my phone, brushing off the keychain from the screen, and I typed her name—I'd heard mutters of it—into YouTube. There were several videos of her. 'Kaori Miyazono Plays Kreutzer Sonata' ended up being the one I watched first, and it was beautiful. Kaori played the violin piece like it was hers and she owned it; it seemed that way to everyone else, too.
For a while afterwards, Kaori disappeared almost completely from my mind. Sure, sometimes in class she would sneak into my thoughts, but she waltzed right back out again when the bell rang. And it stayed that way; that was, until one night when I was playing my own piece.
Well, it wasn't my own piece. It belonged to somebody else and I knew that; I played like I knew it wasn't my own. Like I was borrowing someone else's homework to copy; like I was singing someone else's lyrics; like it meant nothing to me or my heart.
But Kaori came over to me, and held out a box. In the dark, it was hard to tell at first, but it was a milk box. I'd never drunk that kind before, but I drank it then, because her offering to me made me feel like it was important that I did so. She smiled at me once I took it, then skipped away again, without a word.
After that, we seemed to meet more often. She brought me more milk when I was playing euphonium, but I was unsure whether I should actively seek her out, or if she'd think that I was stalking her or something. It was nice talking to her though, so I started walking round the town more, urging fate to plant her in front of me so that I could see her pretty smile again, and the enchanting spark in her eye that came with it.
I suppose it was never meant to last long.
For a while afterwards, I couldn't see her so much any more. My walks had sped up to a vigorous march, but I found empty space, accompanied only by the mesmerising wisps of her ghost.
Kaori Miyazono had been taken into hospital, I later found out. Naturally, I rushed to see her, although I didn't even know why she was there—I just had to be with her. When I got to what was supposed to be her room, though, all I saw were a crowd of nurses, their mouths and noses covered by masks, and what I recognised as Kaori's gentle—fragile—hand with a white-knuckle grip on the hospital bed's falling guard. Her hand loosened and fell, and I ran home crying.
I remember it well, because that was the last time I saw her.
AN: Okay, so this is based off of Caelum's AMV 'fade into darkness,' which is on YouTube. It's a crossover of Hibike! and Your Lie in April, and I ended up really shipping Kaori and Kumiko, even if Caelum didn't intend their relationship to come across that way. Anyways, it's super amazing and feelsy, so you should definitely check it out. I hope you enjoy reading this fic, and please leave a comment if you do!
