I TURNED TEN, the first one of all my friends to turn a double-digit age. Then I turned eleven, then came twelve. I was a middle schooler, still trying hard to become the world’s best with the guitar. I promised them after all, that we’d make it to the biggest stage in the world.

I was on my way home from school, letting the end-of-winter breeze fill my lungs. It had been really cold for so long, it was nice to walk outside again without my toes freezing off.

When the seemingly endless row of trees along the road parted ways to make room for an intersection, I turned my head sideways, looking at the open road, with above it a clear open sky. There I saw it again. The tip of the big mountain you can see when the skies are clear; Mount Fuji. Even though the skies were clear, it was barely visible. I was once again reminded of how I let time pass me by. Another spring break was nearing. I would turn into a second year middle schooler—and I would turn thirteen years old.

At my age at the time, twelve years old, I was already a less than desirable candidate for adoption. Each and every year that got added on top of that would also increase how undesirable of an orphan I was.

I stopped in my tracks and stared at it. Five years ago, I wrote a letter.

‘Mount Fuji, can you see it too?’

A couple of geography classes later, I learned that Noruma and I are divided by that very mountain, living on its opposite sides. While I assume Noruma still lives in Tokyo, I wonder where Fuyuko is now. I haven’t seen her since the day we parted.

I continued walking home. Naturally I’m the only one that goes this way, all the other orphans either went to elementary school or were too young for school.

Suddenly I heard people talking on this usually empty road. I turned around, curious to see who they were. My gaze instantly fell on the uniform they were wearing. The same as me. My eyes, a little shaky, found their way to their faces, classmates.

“Ah, it’s the throwaway,” one of them said.

Quite the nickname I’ve got. I turned around again and walked home a little faster than before.

In elementary school, no one really cared that I was an orphan, but ever since middle school, it had become a big deal. And without others my age being orphans as well, I became the odd one out.

I started wondering again how the others were doing. But for better or worse, none of them had to deal with that since they weren’t orphans anymore.

During this period of my life, Tanaka’s belly kept growing bigger. She was, in fact, pregnant.

She had told me a long time ago that she was considering adopting me, since she didn’t plan on being a caretaker forever.

“I’ll soon be moving away. If you’re not adopted by the time you’re thirteen… then I’ll be taking you with me. I’ll be your mother, Koji. How does that sound?”

That’s what she had promised before she got pregnant with a child of her own. She and her husband wanted to reconsider the promise and give it some time, but I told them that it was fine. I had already given up on getting adopted anyway.

Everyday started feeling the same. I was slowly turning into the guy whose name I’ve long forgotten, yet will always remember as the clever one. Like him, I was pessimistic about my chances of adoption. Like him, I was nicknamed ‘the throwaway’ at school. And like him, like the clever one, I was addicted. The positive kind.

He delved deep into the world of books. Read his days away until he was old enough to leave the orphanage. At the time I thought that we shared that destiny.

Unwanted, undesired, unloved.

Living with, and for, nothing other than our addiction. For him, books. For me, the guitar. Something I started playing out of pure coincidences aligning, yet somehow becoming my fate, my promise and my only goal.

Each day that passed me by made me lose it even more. As dark and edgy as it sounds; that thing called ‘feeling’. Nothing moved me anymore, nothing sparked my interest anymore. Nothing could make me feel.

No matter how hollow of a being I was becoming, there was one thing, one feeling, that would remain; my guitar—and my love for it.

I took the guitar, sat down and repeatedly played the lowest notes. The low, echoing sound perfectly reflected how I felt.

When I was playing that day, Hibino knocked on the door of my room. She came in and sat down on the bed that hadn’t been occupied for a very long time.

“Koji, how is school going?” she asked, with a slight hint of concern lingering in her words.

“Same as usual,” I answered, which wasn’t a lie. It was always the same as usual.

“We’re a little worried about you, you know?”

I stopped playing the low cords and placed the palm of my hand on the strings, muting its sound quicklier.

“Sorry to make you worry, but there’s really nothing to be worried about.”

The ends of her lips raised, forming a smile—not a happy one, “You sound just like him,” she said.

Even though she didn’t say his name, I knew she was talking about the clever one. This was not the first time such concern was raised, that I sounded just like him.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not bad, no. Not good either, though,” she placed her hands in her lap, “I only wish for one thing, which I also wished for him, and that is for you to be happy.”

I nodded.

“The way things are going now, I can’t help but see you ending up like him. You haven’t seen him in a long while, but he’s quite the opposite of happy.”

I simply nodded again.

“Can you do me one favour please? Just one.”

“Sure,” I said.

“Make some friends at school. A single one will do. If that doesn’t work out, that’s completely fine, but please, do try.”

Friends. That’s the word we used to call other orphans.

“I already have friends”, was what I wanted to say.

But all of that was in my head. Tatsurou, I hadn’t seen nor spoken to him in five years. Same goes for Fuyuko. The last letter from Nomura was… three years ago.

At that moment, during the conversation with Hibino, I realised that I didn’t have any friends. All others living at the orphanage were far too young to be considered friends. At school, there was not a single person I talked to. Me being hard to approach combined with being an orphan is probably what pushed everyone away from me. So maybe Hibino was right. Maybe I should try making even a single friend. Maybe then… maybe then I will be less hollow.

“…I’ll try,” I said. “After spring break, when I’m in my second year. It’ll be like a fresh start or something,” I added.

She smiled again, a happy smile this time, “Thank you, Koji.”

Another spring break, another birthday, but this time I had something to look forward to: making my first friend in middle school.

Before the opening ceremony, we were assigned our class. In the classroom, we were assigned our seats.

The person I sat beside was someone from the same class last year, though I didn’t remember his name.

With Hibino’s mission in mind, I said, “We’re in the same class again, huh.”

He looked at me with a spooked expression. Well, I guess it was the first time I ever spoke to him. Maybe he didn’t even know who I was, or that we were in the same class last year.

“Yeah, good to see you again,” he said. “A little rare, no? For you to start speaking to someone.”

I didn’t think he’d be so blunt about it, “Yeah, I guess I might’ve changed a little, I think?”

“You think?” he laughed.

I suddenly realised that it was less hard than I thought to make conversation. At that thought, all my conversational gears stopped in their tracks.

When did I start thinking it was hard in the first place?

I used to speak so much that people called it annoying... when did that stop?

“Something wrong?” he asked.

I shook my head, “A-ah, it’s no-n-nothing,” I stumbled over my words. Where did the smoothness from earlier go?

He laughed a bit again and turned his head to the blackboard in front of the classroom.

I felt my heartbeat increasing.

“Alright, everyone is here, let’s do a little introduction before the ceremony starts,” our teacher said.

“We’ll do row per row, starting here,” he pointed at the row closest to the window—my row.

The first person stood up, introduced themselves. At least that’s what I assumed, because I was getting dizzy, and didn’t catch a word that she said.

“Thank you. Alright, next person.”

The guy sitting in front of me stood up, the loud screaking of his chair being pushed backwards rang in my ears. A sudden chill fell over my body, freezing it entirely.

When he's done, it's my turn.

I started rehearsing the words in my head. Just what was happening to me? Why couldn’t I calm down?

I’m Koji. I play the guitar. I hope to have a good year with all of you, bow. Alright. I kept repeating those words in my head.

“Next.”

I stood up.

All the gazes spread over the room now targeted a single person; me. I parted my lips, opening my mouth. Waiting for my words to do the rest.

“I—” my volume was way too loud. I started over again, feeling the eyes of everyone piercing through my body. “I am—”

Who am I again?

The words failed me once again. I couldn’t make out what was happening to me, why I felt so intimidated by the mere act of speaking.

Was it my earlier realisation? Why did it suddenly feel like a big deal?

The longer I waited, the more awkward it got, I took a deep breath and decided to just fire the words out of my mouth to get this over with.

“I am the guitar.”

I bowed.

After three seconds of silence, everyone was laughing. I felt my blood rushing to my cheeks. I haven't felt this embarrassed in a long time.

I sat down again, my seat-neighbour looked at me and said, “I’m looking forward to this year, guitar.”

I buried my face in my hands, “…Same here.”

No matter how embarrassing that moment was, it was essentially what made Hibino’s mission a success.

The sudden change from the hostile ‘throwaway’ to the banteringly nickname ‘guitar’ made me feel just a little bit more at ease in class. Though after my first week as a second year, I had yet to make a friend.

On that Monday the following week, when I was walking in the hallways early in the morning, I came across my seat neighbour, Saito. He was talking to a girl, so I tried to avoid him, but we made eye contact before I could turn back.

I decided to play it cool and just greet him, “Good morning.”

I didn’t stop walking, but right when I was about to pass them, the girl said, “Ew, why is the throwaway talking to us?”

Saito stopped me in my tracks and leaned his weight over my shoulder. I looked at him, quite surprised.

He pointed at me with the hand not on my shoulder and said, “This is not the throwaway.” I gave him a puzzled look, as in saying "I’m not?"

“This is my seat neighbour, the guitar.”

She started laughing, “The guitar?”

Little by little, and not only in my class, my new nickname started spreading, and I became… the guitar.

People would wave at me in the hallways and play an air guitar. Sometimes people would halt me in my tracks to ask me about my nickname. The more I spoke to strangers, the more I was reminded of the old me. Though one thing was certain, I would never feel the same about it as the old me would.

While I was eating lunch in my seat instead of the cafeteria, I got invited to lunch for the first time.

“Yo, guitar, wanna eat lunch together?”

With no real reason to decline Saito, I simply said, “Alright,” and went with him and his friends, headed to the cafeteria.

I didn’t feel happy to be invited for lunch, nor did it upset me; I didn’t feel anything.

During lunch, I laughed along with every joke. I didn’t find any of them funny. The reason I laughed was to forge a spot in this group, ‘the one that finds everything funny’, that’s the easiest role to fulfil. All one has to do… is laugh.

This way, I could accomplish Hibino’s mission as quickly as possible. An invitation to lunch would surely launch into a friendship overtime.

“—and then she said, ‘It was the pudding’,” I missed half the story leading up to this joke, but I laughed along with the others.

“You sure are in a good mood, guitar,” one of Saito’s friends said.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking that, too!”

All others seemed to agree. Saito leaned close to me and asked, “Did you get a girlfriend or something?”

I shook my head, “I didn’t…”

“The guitar’s girlfriend… the piano?”

I had no one other than myself to blame for instinctively linking the piano to the only one I know that plays it – Fuyuko.

“Oh! He’s blushing!”

“I’m not… and I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Saito poked me with his elbow, “Come on, tell us. Who’s this piano? A classmate? Is she in the music club?”

I stood up and said, “I’m going back to the classroom.”

Before I left, Saito yelled out, “Show me a picture of your girlfriend later!”

All eyes in the cafeteria turned to me. This guy…

A little while later, during the first class after lunch break, Saito whispered, “So… the piano isn’t your girlfriend… is she your crush?”

I shook my head.

“Ah what a bummer. If you ever need help landing a girl, be sure to ask me for help!” He proudly pointed his thumb at himself. “After all, that’s what friends are for, right?”

Friends…?

I turned my head, unaware that my facial expression reflected my thoughts.

“What? Don’t you see me as a friend then?” he asked.

“I didn’t think you’d see me as a friend,” I replied.

“Huh? We’ve been friends for weeks dude!”

The teacher turned around and yelled, “Saito, be quiet!”

Was this all it took to be considered a friend?

I had never shared any personal information, I never talked about anything deeper than ordinary topics. Heck, all I ever did was laugh along with jokes. That little input meant that I had fulfilled the mission that Hibino had given me; I made a friend.

Later that day, I walked home with Saito and his friends, though it was only for a little while until our ways home differed.

The conversation that was going on during that little time was hardly what I would consider a conversation.

The way I envisioned it, was like a big pond with the five of them around it. All sitting still with a fishing rod, patiently waiting to reel the big fish called ‘centre of attention’ their way. They didn’t at all seem interested in what everyone else was saying, the only thing they wanted to hear was their own voice.

Every time someone started a topic, it took about a sentence or three until someone else brought in a new topic. Every conversation was baseline-level, never going deeper than that.

If their conversation was the script of a movie, the audience would be complaining about how bland and boring it is. And yet, the audience would be too ignorant to realise that they themselves spoke like this as well.

Baseline-level.

When I got home, I told Hibino that I’ve had a friend for a while.

“I already had a feeling,” she said. “You’ve seemed a lot more cheerful lately.”

I think she was saying that to both make me think I had actually been more cheerful and trick her own mind into thinking so as well. Not that it mattered to me, as long as she was happy, then my mission was a success.

* * *

My first wave of temporary fame was being the guitar. Later came the second wave; the rumour going around that I had a girlfriend, the piano. People made it into a game trying to guess who the piano could be. But luckily for me, that didn’t last long since I hardly ever interacted with people, let alone girls.

When a little while had passed, and the buzz of the guitar started dying out, I found myself stopped again in the middle of the hallway, which hadn’t happened in a while.

“The guitar…” he said.

The boy that stopped me wasn’t from my class, nor had I ever seen him in classes we have with the entire year. I thought he was a first year, since he was about the size of one.

“I’m Fujita, from class 3-C.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“I’m not here to meet anyone. I’m here to reclaim my title. I am the guitar!” he yelled out.

The few people present stopped to see what was going on.

“…Uh, what do you mean by that?”

“A battle! You, me. We’re going to battle it out with our guitars. The winner takes the prize, being the title of the guitar.”

The louder he got, the more people started watching. I just wanted all of that to be over with.

“Well, if you want it so badly, go ahead and be the guitar.”

“A battle!” he held out a poster with various music instruments on them. In big yellow letters it read ‘Shizuoka Junior Music Contest’, “In the S-J-M-C, there we will fight it out.”

I’m sure no one calls it that.

“Sure, sure. It’s a battle. I’ll be going now.”

“I will be the guitar!”

I came across that exact same flyer later that day on a bulletin board outside the school building. I took a closer look at it. It will take place in a month from now. Both the first place and the runner-up will be going through to the National Junior Music Contest.

At home I talked about it with Tanaka and Hibino.

“Is it alright if I participate?”

“Of course it is! We’ll be rooting for you,” Tanaka said.

Hibino nodded as well.

It was a junior contest, locally in Shizuoka. I was quite confident I would at least be the runner-up, since I had yet to meet anyone my age who was as good as I was.

For the next month I decided to practise my original song. I called it ‘Angel on the Tree’. The song reminded me of the feeling I had when I first saw Fuyuko sitting on that tree.

The music contest only allowed instruments, so I wouldn’t be singing the words—just playing the guitar.

During that month of waiting until the day of the contest, I ran into Fujita in the hallways numerous times.

He always gave me a long lasting sneer, not that I cared much about it.

The day before the contest was the first time he didn’t sneer and actually spoke to me.

“So, guitar… What song will you be playing in the SJMC final round?”

“I could tell you, but you wouldn’t know it anyways,” I said, trying to pass him, but he kept blocking my way.

“Tell me, or I won’t let you through.”

I looked at him with my empty eyes, “I’ll be doing an original, but I doubt you’ll have to worry about the songs played in the final round.”

He dropped his arms, “What do you mean by that?”

“You won’t make it to the final round, now get out of my way.”

The day after, it was finally time for my first ever music competition. Hibino tagged along to see me play in-person. She was somewhere in the audience, though at first I had no clue where she was.

When I appeared on stage for the first of three times, she yelled out, “Koji, you can do this!” while the rest of the audience was dead silent.

That aside, the preliminary round went well. We were all presented the same music sheet and had to play a song we had never seen before.

In this round, sixteen of the thirty-two participants were left. I, of course, went through to the next round.

The following round was a ‘one versus one’.

“Two people with the same instruments will be playing the same song at the same time, the judges will vote who did it better!” the announcer said.

I was hoping I would be playing against Fujita, because frankly, I was better than him. And this way, it could truly be a fight for the title.

“Our first two contenders will be… Yuuki and Koji!”

Unfortunately it wasn’t Fujita, but this wasn’t bad either. I was listening to the others during the preliminary round and, at least in my eyes, Yuuki only barely made the cut for the last sixteen. He was quite good with the guitar, but failed the more fast paced parts.

A little too overconfident, I started playing an odd second earlier than Yuuki. I quickly recovered and we matched our pace for a while. The next part was a lot more intense, which caused Yuuki to mess up a couple of times.

I underestimated him, but in the end, I won.

The fourth battle was between Fujita and the youngest contestant left. Fujita won.

For the final round, everyone would play a piece that they had chosen, which arrogant little me had practised for an entire month, knowing that I would make it through both rounds.

The announcer walked up to the stage, said which contestant would be next and what song they would be playing.

Something strange was going on with him, every time he returned backstage, he was nervously jumping up and down. He didn’t appear nervous in front of the audience, neither did he during the first two rounds backstage, so I was wondering what was going on with him.

Fujita must’ve picked up on it, too, since he walked up to him to talk.

Five contenders had played, none of them sounded better than me. I was confident I would land my spot in the nationals. The announcer, still bouncy, went to the stage and announced the next contender.

“Next up is Fujita!”

He picked up his guitar and turned his head towards me. The smile on his face created the most punch-able expression I had ever seen.

“He’ll be playing an original song called ‘Angel on the Tree’!”

I felt a cold chill running down my spine. That was my song. I was going to play that.I fell down to my knees, completely powerless.

Why would he do such a thing?

I had been calling myself hollow for a long while, but for the first time in what seemed like aeons, I felt something other than embarrassment. Hatred. Pure rage.

Any longer, and surely I would’ve cried, but right before I could, Katou, the only other contestant left, walked up to me.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

I couldn’t hide my hysteria. “That’s my original song! He stole it!”

Her nurturing expression turned to one filled with disgust. “Do you mean… that he’s cheating?”

I nodded my head.

“…Disgusting. I hate cheaters!”

She grabbed me by my arm and pulled it over her shoulder, bringing me back on my feet.

“Let’s make sure to beat this fraud.”

I looked at him playing. His filthy fingers didn’t even come close to capturing the heartfelt emotion I put in my music. None of this sounds divine, nothing of this reminds me of the angel. It was utterly disgusting to hear him play the song I had made.

But I couldn’t just play the same one. Even if I walked up the stage causing a scene, claiming that it’s my song… I wanted to show him that even if he steals my song, he could never touch my level. Him and I, we’re not the same… I am the guitar.

My eyes, close to crying a second ago, were lit up, filled with fire.

“Yeah, let’s beat him.”

The announcer disappeared to the toilet after announcing Fujita, hence why he was bouncing up and down this entire time. His headset-microphone was still lying on a table. I decided to take all of my anger and shove it into a performance the judges could never forget.

“Please welcome to the stage, Koji!” I announced, as I walked up the stage, burning with determination.

“Koji will be playing an original song, too.”

I had written a second song, but it was nowhere near as complete as Angel on the Tree was. But if I wanted to win, it had to be something good of my own.

“His song is called, ‘Can you see it, too?’” I was deliberately talking in third person to rile up the audience.

I sat down on the low chair in the middle of the stage.

Even though it wasn’t allowed, I’m pretty sure cheating isn’t either, so I did as I pleased.

The opening is a lot more energetic compared to the gentle sounding Angel. But soon after the energetic opening seconds follows—the lyrics!

“Feel the breeze in my lungs

Another spring has begun

I want to send you a letter, but that'd be jumping the gun”

I heard whispers in the audience, whispers among the judges and I swear, I heard Fujita complaining backstage. The audacity of this guy…

“The clouds are gone and the sky is clear

Above the trees in the distance, at least seen from here

There's that thing in the air confirming our distance, I fear

A sight so beautiful that the both of us held dear.”

The fast paced rhythm of this song is based on the most energetic person I knew; Nomura. If you heard the other song, you wouldn’t believe that they were made by the same kid.

“Now all of that holds a new meaning for us two

Got me wondering—

Can you see it, too?”

The last line, I softly repeated at the rhythm of my guitar.

When the song was over, Hibino stood up and clapped loudly. To my surprise, the other parents there stood up as well and clapped.

I stood up as well from the little chair, bowed and walked back behind the curtains backstage.

The first person I saw there was the frustrated Fujita.

I looked at him, tenfold the disgust of Katou earlier, “I will never, ever lose to a cheater like you.”

Speaking of Katou, she was right behind him, holding her hand high in the air, waiting for me to give her a high-five.

“You did great out there! I didn’t expect you to be such a good singer!”

My earlier cool display turned into bashfulness, “…Thank you.”

The announcer looked at me, then it hit me that I was still wearing his equipment. I quickly took it off and returned it to him.

“Last, but definitely not least,” heh, say that again, “Katou!”

Katou was good, really good. At least double the guitarist Fujita was. The three of us were the only guitarists left in the last eight. But if I had to give my honest ranking it would be; me first, Katou as close second, and Fujita wouldn’t even belong on the podium.

But that got me a little nervous. Since singing wasn’t allowed, I might be in trouble. But, I was the only one who got a standing ovation. Then again, if I had to choose two winners, it would be Katou and I. but would they send two guitarists to the nationals, I wondered.

When it was time for the judges to choose a winner and runner-up, everyone back-stage was nervous.

Katou walked up to me and said, “It’s gonna be us two, I’m sure of it!”

The announcer, backstage too, butted in, “I don’t think so. If I had to pick, it would be Koji as a clear winner. But he broke a rule, you can’t sing, this is an instrumental contest.”

He raised my main concern.

Before I could say anything else, he was off to the judges. It was time to announce the winner.

“I will no longer hold all of you in suspense… it’s time to announce the winner!”

I was getting nervous now. The overconfident me was nowhere to be seen anymore.

“We’ll win for sure,” Katou said next to me with her thumbs up.

“A quick reminder—both the winner and runner-up will be battling it out later this year in the Nationals! Anyway, without further ado… the winner of the Shizuoka Junior Music Contest is…”

My heartbeat, throbbing up my throat earlier, disappeared. I knew it wouldn’t be me. I sang after all. But more than winning, I didn’t want to lose to Fujita. So as long as he didn’t win, I would be sort of satisfied.

“—No one other than Katou!!”

She jumped up and cheered, “I did it!”

Without waiting for the announcer to call her to the stage, she pushed the curtains open and ran on the stage.

“Thank you so much!” she said as she kept bowing over and over again.

Fujita sat down where she was sitting earlier, “I’ll be the runner-up. See you at the Nationals. Me on stage and you crying in the audience.”

I ignored him, but somewhere deep down I was grateful for that annoying brat. Even though all I felt were negative feelings towards him, at least I felt something.

“I won’t be crying in the audience, but I’ll leave you crying here back-stage.”

He clicked his tongue and looked away. I stood up and said, “I guess I’d better go and wait in front of the curtain, that way I’ll reach the stage more quickly.”

I was completely bluffing and didn’t even think that I would be the runner-up, but if my bluffing at least got on his nerves, then that would be enough to call it a win.

After the applause, the announcer continued, “As I said before… the runner-up will be going to the nationals, too! But who could that be…”

This time when he paused, it caused a much greater feeling of suspense than the first time. The winner was sort of obvious, I broke the rules and Katou was the closest to my level. So if I’m not the winner, basically anyone left could be the runner-up.

“I’ve been keeping you guys waiting for far too long now… The runner-up, who’ll be joining Katou in the Nationals is… no one other than Koji!!”

It took me a second before I realised what had happened. I was the runner-up in my first ever music contest. With an original song no less.

When I opened the curtains, I saw Hibino wiping her tears in the crowd. On stage, Katou was applauding louder than anyone else.

Before letting go of the curtain behind me, I gave one last look to Fujita. And as I said, I left him in tears.

Katou and I bowed on stage, as we did she said, “I told you we would win, right?”