A door, a corridor, a staircase, and the wooden door that led out to the terrace.
With every step Taki Shiina took, the guitar in her ears grew clearer.
She hadn't even seen the terrace yet, but Taki Shiina had already pictured it: the dancing fingertips of her silver-haired girl.
But why a guitar?
Why not... the piano?
Passing the second-floor bathroom, Taki scooped up the hearing aid lying on the sink.
It had fulfilled its purpose, and Chiose had given it to her.
Etched with a pirate ship, a symbol of freedom, the hearing aid had become a keepsake Taki Shiina would treasure for the rest of her life.
Her left foot found the last step before the third-floor terrace door, and Taki Shiina, too impatient to wait, reached out and shoved it open.
The night wind was even more eager than she was, scrambling over itself to rush inside.
The wind is really... strong.
The hem of her nightgown wouldn't stay down, but a cool breeze washing over her face right after waking was comfortable, almost to the point of bliss.
With the door open, the notes that had been straining to hold back threw off every restraint and swirled around Taki Shiina.
"Little Chiose? Where are you?"
Taki gripped the doorframe, and her calling voice cut off mid-word.
Because there she was: the most important friend of her life, standing on a wooden crate beneath the moon, playing her song without a care, the whole world her backdrop.
The silver-white girl wore a white dress, its hem fluttering, her hair streaming wild in the wind.
Chiose Noshiro just kept playing.
Her eyes were so gentle, yet mixed in with that gentleness was a resolve Taki Shiina couldn't read.
The free-spirited melody was catchy. Taki drew closer to Chiose, and Chiose, plucking her guitar, drew closer to Taki.
"Попробуй только лишь глоток,"
(Just a tiny taste,)
"Божественный нектар природы,"
(The divine nectar of nature,)
"Он башню клинит у дедов,"
(He builds a tower before the grandfathers,)
"На нём работают заводы,"
(Factories run on it,)
"Манго нектар..."
(Mango nectar...)
The song was light and moving, but a faint sorrow ran through the voice.
It wasn't the sorrow of an emotional wound. It was the numbness of someone who grins back at life's hardships.
Still, that wasn't what occupied most of Taki Shiina's thoughts.
When did Little Chiose learn... Russian? That's so cool! As expected of Chiose Noshiro.
"О том, что сказано, забудь,"
(Forget what's been said,)
"Просто купи и наслаждайся,"
(Just buy it and enjoy,)
"Дедов тех нужно помянуть,"
(Those grandfathers should be remembered,)
Standing in front of Taki Shiina, Chiose let her music slow, like a jar of honey gradually setting.
Taki Shiina looked closer. Were those scrapes on Chiose's knees and elbows?
The light was poor and she couldn't be sure, but if they were real, she'd probably taken a fall.
"Я отправляюсь в подсознание,"
(I'm drifting into the subconscious,)
"Манго нектар."
(Mango nectar.)
Hmmm—
Her fingertips swept across the strings one last time, and just then the wind died down too. The girls' skirts stopped billowing.
Their long hair fell back into place.
"Taki? Are you awake?"
"Little Chiose! What... what song was that?"
"It's 'Mango Nectar.' One of my favorites... a shoegaze song. Mm! Well, post-punk."
"And the Russian? Your pronunciation was perfect. It sounded so good."
"Russian... I picked that up a while ago, when I was bored."
There was no grand, sweeping confession of feelings, just two girls yawning and chatting happily beneath the night sky.
Rainwater had gathered on the surface of the terrace, forming a few small puddles.
In them were reflected Taki Shiina and Chiose Noshiro.
"So... why are you up playing guitar in the middle of the night?"
And why a guitar, of all things?
"Mm-hm."
Chiose tucked her hair behind her ear and adjusted her hearing aid.
To Taki Shiina, the scene felt exactly like the end of a story.
A girl and a girl. That was all there was to it.
"Because this is a farewell."
"A farewell?"
"Yeah," Chiose nodded firmly. "I'm saying goodbye to the guitar... and to Sakiko."
"Huh?"
"Because I realized... more than Sakiko and the guitar, what I love most will always be Taki and the piano. I've already found what I love, so I can't let anything else get in the way..."
"I guess I still like that burning feeling, after all."
"Burning, huh."
Burning again, burning again!
Taki Shiina honestly had no idea what that word meant.
Chiose took Taki Shiina's hand, and noticed the tear tracks on Taki's face.
It proved that every part of her plan was going smoothly.
Taki Shiina had finished reading the diary.
"Taki, do you know why I'm... playing 'Mango Nectar'?"
"I don't..."
But I do know you've been wearing your hearing aids a little too long.
Seeing the unmatched seriousness in Chiose's tone, Taki swallowed the words that had been on the tip of her tongue.
"Because the feeling this song gives me is about looking for something good in the most terrible days..."
Social pressure, interpersonal crises, crises of trust, financial crises... never mind all that.
"Maybe it's not so bad. At the very least, there's still mango nectar to enjoy."
"Pfft... you idiot. Even if you want to relax, you can't do it in the middle of the night..."
"Taki, wanna try something a little thrilling?"
Chiose took Taki's hand and pressed it onto the neck of the guitar.
"What are you doing?"
"Hold on tight, and then... let's smash it together!"
"Huh!?"
By the time Taki Shiina realized what Chiose Noshiro was planning, it was already too late.
Chiose had slipped behind Taki and was already raising Taki's arm high into the air.
In that instant, countless images flashed through her mind.
A sky about to break into dawn, a keyboardist and a drummer who'd gone silent and abandoned their posts, a band career that was beautiful but brief and full of regret...
"Everything! Can! Go to hell!"
Chiose yelled, and together with Taki she smashed the guitar.
Splinters flew, strings snapped, and the instrument that had once produced so much beautiful music was officially wrecked.
Taki Shiina stood dazed through the whole thing, but when the final moment came, she was surprised to feel it—
Release, and pure exhilaration!
… … …
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