Our runaway plan suffered a huge setback—the last train had already left. The small train station stood there by its lonesome in the middle of the residential area, and there's only a convenient store nearby that operates late into the night. There was no one to be seen after the train left. As we stood on the surprisingly wide walkway, what accompanied us were our shadows spreading outwards and away from us due to the street lights around us.
"What should we do?" I asked in desperation.
"Are we not going to look for a corpse along the railroad?"
That was something I randomly said some time ago, and Weiss really used it against me.
"We are really gonna walk? It will be really tough!"
And what should I do if your right leg becomes immobile like how it had back then?
"I heard that freezing is the most beautiful way to die. Is that true?"
"Don't say something like that! Moreover, I've been feeling that something is out of place ever since just now…"
"What?"
"Why am I the one carrying your guitar and bag as well?"
I forgot when did the guitar came on my back, but it is really heavy.
"Because you are the one in charge carrying all the luggage!"
"That's not…" No wait, come to think of it, it really is so?
I looked at Weiss walking in the direction of the railroad, and caught up to her. That sight of her in the white colored dress seemed like it would melt into the darkness and disappear if I was not careful.
After going past the wired fencing, the dark railroad was right beside us. As we walked up the gentle slopes, Weiss asked me about my mother out of the blue.
"Why…"
"Nothing, I just wanted to know about her. What sort of person is she?"
"Well, my mother is a headstrong, impulsive, eccentric, and stubborn woman… she had a bossy attitude and was an extremely annoying person too. But despite all of that my mother deeply loved her family."
"I see…" Weiss once again turned her sight back onto the railroad before her. "You have a good mother, I really envy you."
"My Mama…" Weiss suddenly talking about her mother to me as she looked forward, and her footsteps seemed to be slowing down as she walked on absentmindedly. "She's no longer around even before I was in the elementary school. However, I heard she has remarried to an American man, and they are now living in New York. I even looked up for her address last year, as I was passing by New York during my American tour."
She probably got herself lost? I thought to myself.
"However, Mama was afraid to see me. Her husband came to the door, and in a very polite English, he asked me to go back."
Weiss stopped in her tracks. As I could not see her face, I had no idea if the trembling of her shoulders were due to her crying.
"That man said I looked exactly like Mama, and so Mama may have refused to see me because she was afraid that she might be affected by it. Moreover, Mama play piano as well…" Weiss finally turned her head, but there were almost no expressions on her face. "The day after that, we took off to Boston, and my right body suddenly could not move right before the performance. But I… should not have cared about that at all…"
As she continued on endlessly, she grabbed onto her right arm tightly with her left fingers.
"Even if my right body becomes unable to move, followed by my left body, and finally my heart stops beating and I die; as long as I am mummified and sent to that man, he will definitely put me right before the piano automatically, and be pleased with that."
"… Don't say such uncomfortable things."
Weiss ignored my words, and resumed walking.
A few of the questions which I had always dared not ask her suddenly appeared in my mind. Since Weiss may plan to just disappear, I had decided to seek answers to all of my questions.
"Do you hate your father?"
Weiss did not answer me immediately. She was two steps in front of me, but she slowed down by dragging her feet along.
"I have never felt that way." Weiss's voice gently landed on the asphalt, and rolled right next to my feet. "It's not about me hating him or not… it's just like me being stuck in a bottomless swamp, helpless and all alone."
"What's with that! Just say you hate him if you really do!"
Weiss jumped in shock, and turned her head around after she stopped her footsteps. I flinched at my own voice as well, but as of now I could no longer pretend nothing had happened by keeping my mouth shut.
"… Why do you sound like you know everything?"
"Because it's painfully obvious! You don't like your father! Why do you have to make it so complicated?"
Weiss glared at me with her face flushed red, and her hair was trembling slightly as well. She then turned away hastily, and continued walking forward. Am I really qualified to say that sort of thing? I could not help but think to myself after Weiss had shifted her gaze away from my face. After readjusting the strap of the guitar case which was about to slip off my shoulders, I quickly caught up with Weiss yet again.
After walking a distance of about four train stations apart, Weiss began complaining that her feet hurt. As such, we walked into a small park next to the railroad, and took a rest on the bench. There's only a small sand pit, two see-saws and a bench in the park. Such a lonely space this is.
"Does your right foot hurt?"
"No, it's both. It has nothing to do with that."
Seems like it's just due to us walking for too long. As for me, I was quite thankful for the chance to rest, as the strap of the guitar casing was already digging itself deep into my shoulder.
I lifted my head to look at the starless gloomy skies, and suddenly a serious question hit me. What the hell am I doing at a place like this deep in the middle of the night? What do I plan to do next? I shook my head, stared at my feet, and decided to just forget about that question for now.
"My legs always tire easily, and they cramp up frequently."
If so, what's with the deal of searching for a corpse along the railway!
"… Ah, so that's the reason you don't step on the pedals when you play the piano?"
"That has nothing to do with this. In the first place, there's no need to step on the pedals when playing Bach."
"That's not what I meant. I feel that you can portray the sustained notes very well even without the use of the pedals."
"Did you listen to my CD that much? Disgusting."
"That's played by you, so what's with the 'disgusting'!?"
"It will be great if they can burn all the pieces in the world which were played by me."
Just don't record them if you don't like it?
"So you don't like the piano, but you are forced to play it?"
Weiss nodded. "I had never once thought that playing the piano is something enjoyable."
"But you sound like you were having fun when you were playing Chopin's Butterfly?"
"The critics always love to guess the feelings of the musicians—I sometimes do wonder if they are idiots or something. I can still play a happy piece even if I am not feeling so!"
"Well… you're not wrong to say that. Music is but a series of arranged notes. It's up to the listeners to interpret the feelings that are hidden within. So… you started hating the piano, and you don't wish to play it anymore?"
"I can no longer play it anyway. I can only move my thumb and my index finger freely." Weiss lifted her right hand and tried to open up her fingers. Her middle, ring and little finger were bent weakly.
"If you are to do a diagnosis and then proceed with the operation… perhaps there will be a chance for you to recover?"
"That is why I am running away." Weiss placed her right hand on her chest. She then covered it with her left hand, as if she was trying to protect it. "That man said that his dream is to play Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 2. I have always been thinking—why No. 2? That is not a popular piece to begin with."
Beethoven had written five piano concertos. Recent research has pointed out that Piano Concerto No. 2 in B major was actually released earlier than No. 1, and it's the least played piece among all his piano concertos.
"I've only realized later after searching for the past records, that he had played the other concertos with Mama, and has recorded it down as well."
That's… I shut my opened mouth. I originally wanted to say "That's just you thinking too much into it," but I really could not bring myself to say it.
"And… I don't think my sickness can be treated anyway. That's what I think." Using her left arm, she clutched onto the wrist of her right hand tightly. "I'm made just to play the piano with that man. Once I give up on the piano, it is obvious that I will not be able to move. That's natural."
"Then why are you playing the guitar?"
Weiss's shoulder flinched as she looked on the ground.
"And you just play the pieces that you had played on the piano before! Do you really hate the piano?"
Weiss bit on her bottom lips as she searched for an answer. She then closed her eyes and sighed.
"Originally… back when I first played Hungarian Dance together with Mama with our four hands, I felt really happy. I was only four back then, and we would always place this on the piano, and record the pieces we played."
Weiss traced out the contours of the sound recorder which was hanging from her bag with her fingers. So that is really something left by her mother. And she did say before that it is something important.
"But that's only for the beginning. I learnt how to play everything later on, but Mama is no longer around, and I am left all alone. All that is left next to me is the piano. After I am done with a piece, the score for the next will appear right before me. I hoped that I could perhaps use the guitar to get the same feeling back then, and I was quite immersed in it at the beginning, but…"
She hugged her knees on the bench, and leaned her forehead against her knees. There was an unmistakable depression in her voice.
"But I became more and more breathless as I played, and yet it felt painful if I didn't. I really don't know what to do. My head was filled with the memories of that person wanting me to play this and that, so what was I feeling when I was playing the piano before all that? I can no longer remember, and perhaps I have already forgotten them somewhere already. Those memories will never come back to me, because I had already lost it all a long long time ago. I can no longer… get them back."
I unconsciously closed my eyes. All I could hear was the painful voice of Weiss.
Can she… really not get them back? If so, then is there really nothing that I can do for Weiss?
"… It's because you have been alone for too long. You will not be able to continue on the path of music like that."
Just then, I remembered the answer from a certain infamous detective novel. Will there be a sound if someone is to collapse in a desolated forest? The answer is no. If it does not get into the ears of someone, the sound cannot be considered as a sound, but rather the vibration of air.
"I too have learned that from Yang and Ruby. So…"
I suddenly didn't know what I was supposed to say. What the hell am I talking about? I am the one who gave up! I knew that would only hurt Weiss, but I still tossed it away and planned to ignore everything, didn't I?
"Have you… really decided to join the band of that woman?"
"Eh? Ah… yes."
Right. The bullshit about snatching back the ownership of the practice room and the dignity of rock no longer mattered midway. All I wanted is to start a band with Weiss. If only I could be like Ruby and just tell her honestly right from the start…
"I wanted to ask you to join the Folk Music Research Club if I won. The four of us can then practice together as a band in that classroom."
"Forming a band… I've never thought of things like that."
The expressions in Weiss' eyes were just as if she was trying to send off the migratory birds that were flying away in late autumn. I could not help but to direct my gaze away.
"Sorry. I was too hot-headed when I forced you to join that whatever showdown. It just feels… like I had caused you to remember those unhappy memories."
"No!" Weiss suddenly shouted. "Nothing of that sort. At that time… I actually could remember slightly about the days when I used to play the piano happily. Also, Eroica Variations is one of my favorite pieces. The sound of your bass was exceptional—it's just like it had fused together with my guitar as a single instrument. That was the first time I experienced those sorts of feelings. It was just like magic."
I couldn't help but to slump my head. If I buy back the same bass, and do the same modifications to it again, will it be able to produce the same sounds as back then? That's impossible. A mere millimeter of difference and the slight change in the voltage will result in miles of differences in the sounds that are produced. That ensemble can be considered to be in the realms of a miracle.
"That was really like magic. Perhaps that's what playing as a band is all about?"
"Mmm, I had a slight thought about it back when I was playing Eroica Variations. It was as though I had gone back in time to when I was playing the piano together with Mama. If that is the magic of a band… then I wish to be part of it too."
"If so…?" I lifted my head and looked at her. The tears at the corner of her eyes were reflecting the rays from the street lights.
"But I just can't do it. Things like forming a band with other people…"
"You can't? Why!?"
Weiss shook her head furiously, as if she was using her forehead to grind on her knees.
"I can't. Because I will definitely ruin everything."
"What are you talking—"
"Didn't you throw it away? It's because I broke it…" Weiss murmured. I could only swallow back the words that were about to come out of my mouth, and gripped hard on my arms. "I don't quite understand myself… why I do that back then."
Back then, Weiss took my bass and slammed it hard against the floor.
"It's all that bass' fault for making me recall so many things. I had already erased all those memories from within me! Because… it's really… painful…"
Weiss barely restrained herself from saying the words in her mouth. She gripped onto her right wrist tightly with her left hand. Perhaps I should cup my ears or something?
At last, she heaved a light sigh. "… I'm sorry."
There was no need for Weiss to apologize. I shook my head.
"I am the one who ruined everything. It's true… I can't walk alone by myself." She hugged her knees, and buried her face into them. "And there's no point in me saying all these. Your bass will no longer come back, and I am already…"
Weiss' voice was stifled. I really do not wish to hear her saying such things. Moreover, I did not follow along just so I could listen to those words from her. What I can do…
Just one sentence flowed out from my mouth.
"It will not disappear just like that. Let's get it back together."
Weiss slowly lifted her head to look at me. Her eyes seemed a little puffy.
"What?"
"To get back my bass, that's what—the one that I threw away. I will be able to play it once I repair it."
"B-but…" Weiss sniffed. "When did you throw it away? It should have been collected by someone, right?"
"The day before yesterday. It's taken away by the garbage truck."
"Do you know where it was taken to?"
"How would I know? That's why we are going to look for it!"
I stood up, but Weiss was still hugging onto her knees and looking at me with the helpless gaze of hers. We'll definitely find it.