AT LAST, the final four people who’d be making it to the finals on Sunday were announced.
           
“The final four people are no one other than; Osaka winner; Yoshida, Tokyo runner-up; Hattori, Hokkaido winner; Ueda and the last person joining the thirty-two contestants is…”
           
Silence. Not a sound in the room. The tension: palpable.
           
“Kyoto winner; Kurusu!”
           
Some people in the crowd cheered. Some didn’t.
           
Oh, where I am? On stage, of course. I was in the third batch of people who got called on stage.
           
When all thirty-two of us were present in front of the audience, we bowed.
           
That concluded Saturday, the first day of the two-day long contest.
           
I waved to mother while walking off the stage. Once in the large room again, I spoke with my rivals.
           
“Good luck tomorrow.”
           
“You’re gonna need luck more than I do.” The violinist’s smug remark was followed by silly, devilish laughter.
           
“I can’t wait for tomorrow!” Katou said.
           
We parted ways with Kashimoto, the violinist.
           
Katou and I went to the entrance hall, waiting for mother to arrive so we could leave the venue and head to the train station.

              
That night, I dug deep into my sheet music, looking for a surprise song to play. For a while I had an idea of which song I would want to try, but actually pulling it off would be really hard.
              
“I found it,” I murmured to myself.
              
I had been practicing this on the guitar ever since I heard Fuyuko play it on the piano. I still can’t do it perfectly, but if I want any chance at beating Kashimoto and Katou the next day, it had to be that song.
              
I took my guitar out of its case and started practicing until it was midnight.
              
The following day, I didn’t have to wake up early, since the live broadcast took place in the evening. But I still did. A little after seven, I was out of bed, practicing again.
              
After two hours of doing so, I got about enough appetite to eat breakfast. I quickly gulped it down and resumed my practice.
              
It wasn’t going well.
              
The song I was trying to play is originally played on the piano. The way I had to hold my guitar to get the notes right was incredibly difficult.
              
Before I knew it, it was noon. Right after eating lunch, I was picked up by mother and father. Headed to the train station.
              
“I heard you did great out there yesterday,” father said.
              
I nodded, “I’ll be even better today.” If I was confident in my words, it might translate into my performance. That’s what I hoped, at least.
              
Once we were on the train, mother suddenly asked me about Katou, “Do you think Katou is also on this train?”
              
“Katou?” Father asked.
              
“A young lady, also from Shizuoka. She was with us the entire day yesterday. I think she’ll get far into the tournament as well.”
              
“She might be on this train, though I wouldn’t know.”
              
For a second, the entire train carriage fell silent. At that moment, of course it had to be at that moment, the thing that broke the silence was the sound of a growling stomach.
              
I stood up, and looked at the direction where it came from. Even though I thought my mouth was shut tight, I couldn’t suppress the surprised shout, “Katou?”
              
It was indeed Katou whose stomach was growling.
              
“Hm? Is Katou sitting over there?” mother asked me.
              
I sat down again and nodded.
              
“Go fetch her.”
              
“Wha— why…?”
              
“You wouldn’t want a young lady to sit all alone, right?”
              
I sighed, knowing that there was no way out of this. I stood up again and walked over to the three-seats next to each other where Katou was sitting.
              
“…Hey, Katou—”
              
I instantly stopped speaking when I saw that she wasn’t alone at all. When I said her name, two people looked up. Both Katou and an older looking version of Katou sitting next to her.
              
The older one tilted her head and squinted her eyes, “Who might you be~”
              
She didn’t say it like a question, it was more a form of teasing than anything else.
              
Are all adults like this?
              
“I’m Kuruno Koji,” I said.
              
I wanted to add that I’m Katou’s rival, but that would be too embarrassing to say out loud. Instead I said, “I’m also a contestant in the Nationals.”
              
“Oh, so you two are rivals… Why don’t you sit down with us?” She patted the empty seat between them.
              
“…Well, I actually came over here to fetch Katou.”
              
I accidentally ended up using my mother’s words. This only made the awkward situation even more unbearable.
              
“Fetch huh… quite the aggressive kid you are~” She turned her gaze towards Katou, “Hey, Emiko… you haven’t said anything yet.”
              
“Hello, Koji... This is my older sister,” she opened the palm of her hand gesturing at her.
              
Her sister’s face lost all sense of teasing, she looked shocked for some reason.
              
“…First name basis and everything, are you two more than rivals?”
              
“I’m heading back, good luck in the finals.”
              
“And away he goes,” her sister said.
              
I walked back to my seat and told mother that she wasn’t alone so we didn’t have to worry about leaving a young lady all by herself.
              
The rest of the trip flew by in an instant. After we arrived at the station we made our way to the venue. On our way there we didn’t bump into Katou again. She was most likely held up by her stomach to eat something.
              
The first familiar face I ran into was  no one other than the violinist, Kashimoto.
              
“Yo, number forty-seven,” he fully stretched his arm out in the air.
              
“Hello,” for some reason I did the same.
              
I turned around and introduced him to my parents, “This is Kashimoto, he plays the violin.”
              
He bowed, “Nice to meet you.”
              
During our greetings in front of the venue, the Katou sisters showed up.
              
“Ah, it’s Koji again.”
              
I introduced them both as well. Then hastily made my way into the large room with my two rivals.
              
The first thing I noticed was the large television screen placed in the room. My guess was that it would be playing the live broadcast.
              
“So… Which songs will you guys be playing today?” Katou asked.
              
For the final round, we would be playing a song of our choice again, though I can imagine most people would be going with their choice for yesterday’s round.
              
“Same as yesterday,” Kashimoto said.
              
“I don’t know yet,” I admitted, which caused quite the surprise on both their faces.
              
“Do you mean… that you have more than one song ready to go?”
              
I turned my head to Katou and nodded, “Yeah, I do.”
              
Then, the same announcer from yesterday entered the room.
              
“Hello—hello, everyone! Let’s dive right into it, shall we? Today’s schedule is a lot tighter than yesterday’s since we’ll be live on television.”
              
He glanced at the sheet of paper he was holding.
              
“The first round will start in about twenty minutes. It’s called the ‘Technical Round’.”
              
I looked at Kashimoto, maybe he had a clue what that meant, but he shrugged his shoulders.
              
“In the technical round, everyone will be playing a technically difficult song to play. There’s a specific song paired with every instrument. Based on this round, the judges will cut you thirty-two contestants in half.”
              
I felt a shiver run down my body at the words alone.
              
“The sixteen people left will advance to the next round. That round is the ‘Improvised Based on a Given Theme Round’ we couldn’t come up with a better name,” he laughed.
              
“Well, anyway, in that round, you’ll be given a theme by the judges and improvise a song based on it.”
              
That sounded tough. I was confident in my technical ability, but improvising a song, given only a single shot, would be really hard on me.
              
“Then finally, the last round. Eight contestants will be playing a song of their choice. Both the judges and the audience get to vote. Then, at the very end, there’ll be a performance from the winner. Everyone got that?”
              
“Yes,” it echoed through the room, though it lacked the confidence it did yesterday.
              
For the technical round we appeared in the same order we were called to the stage the day prior. Kashimoto as the first contestant, Katou as number four and me as number eleven.
              
The first round was nerve-wracking, but I did pretty good. If there’s anything I don’t lack, it’s technique. It’s especially something I can’t lack if I want to go through with using the song I was practicing at home instead of the one I already played in front of the judges.
                
Number thirty-two walked back into the large room, and everyone fell silent. Not that Katou, Kashimoto or I had said anything before, we’re all way too nervous. And the camera crew filming a live broadcast isn’t helping much either.
              
“Ladies and gentlemen! Get ready for the final sixteen contestants to be announced…”
              
Katou was trembling pretty badly. This technical round was hard on her, but surely she would flourish in the next.
              
This order might’ve been in her favour then, since this round she’ll be compared to thirty-one people instead of a meagre fifteen.
              
“Don’t worry,” I said. “All three of us will be in the final eight.”
              
She slightly opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything.
              
“Please welcome to the stage; Takagi—”
              
She pinched my shoulder and said, “Push my shoulder if I’m in.”
              
She closed her eyes and shut her ears with her fingers.
              
The next five contestants were announced.
              
“—Kashimoto.” He stood up and walked towards the door leading up to the stage.
              
The next contestants got announced until two spots were left.
 
She kicked her foot around, hitting my leg, then worriedly whispered, “…You’re still here.”
              
She let go of her ears and opened her eyes, “Guess we were a little too full of ourselves, huh.”              
              
“And now… the final two people…”
              
Her eyes opened wide, she thought it was over already.
              
“—Are no one other than; Katou and Koji!!”
              
With tears in her eyes, she jumped up from joy, “We did it, Koji! We did it!”
              
I stood up, unable to contain the brightest of smiles on my face.
              
We really did it.
              
On stage with the other contestants, we bowed in front of the audience and disappeared again into the large room.
              
This time we would be going on stage in the order we were called now, meaning that I’d be going last.
              
I told Katou and Kashimoto that I was going outside for a bit, to take a breather. But my actual plan was to practice my trump card, the song I had been practicing in secret.
              
I walked out of the venue and sat down a little further away on a deserted bench under a lamppost.
              
With my guitar in my hands, I started playing the song. It felt impossible to do. Not only was I still shaking from earlier, I couldn’t get it perfect past the opening. I tried again, which went slightly better than the first time.
              
Then, suddenly, “…Koji?”
              
I turned my head around and saw Katou.
              
“…Are you seriously playing that song? Are you sure you won’t be making any mistakes?”
              
“I’ll make mistakes,” I said. “But I’ve decided. This is the only song that could possibly beat Kashimoto.”
             
I looked her in the eyes, I was seated under the light of the lamppost while she was standing on its opposite side in the dark, “I will win the Nationals, Katou.”

She sat down next to me, “If losing means that you’ll win, then it’s fine by me…”
              
“…What’s gotten into you?”
              
She lifted her legs onto the bench and hugged them tight, “Going through the technical round made me really happy, but I don’t think I can make it any further… let alone the final round.”
              
“Don’t say that. You’re good enough to win, too. Let’s give it all we got out there.”
              
She turned her head and looked at me with her droopy eyes, “I just don’t know anymore. I want to play Silent Mayhem in front of my sister,” her lips trembled, “I told her I would let her listen to it for the first time in the finals.”
              
We didn’t say anything for a while, “Koji. My sister will be studying overseas… she might even end up staying there, so I won’t be able to see her for a while. A long while probably. That’s why I have to win. If I get the winner’s performance I can play the song with the lyrics, that will be my parting gift.”
              
She looked into my eyes, “But I lost my confidence earlier. I don’t think I can do it.”
              
“Isn’t this what your song is all about?” I asked.
                
My question took her off guard, “…Huh?”
              
“The peace, disturbed by the sound of thunder. Silence before Mayhem. I like the opening melody. It’s like a fairy tale melody.”
              
From the way she was looking at me, I could tell that she was listening closely to what I was saying.
              
“But, if it were nothing but the opening melody, the song would be rather dull. I like the sudden increase in tempo,” a slight smile appeared on her face. “And what I love the most is when the thunder strikes. The deep and loud notes that turns your strumming into drumming on the strings.”
              
After saying that, something connected in my mind. The single thing I was missing in my own piece. Drumming instead of strumming; the intensity of the song.
              
“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is; right now, the lightning strikes, summoning the sound of thunder. Those negative feelings are your fuel. You’re at your best when you play like that. So don’t fear parting with your sister, embrace today’s chance to show her a Katou at her very best.”
              
“Thanks, Koji,” she determinedly clenched her fists in an all too familiar manner, “I’ll give it all I’ve got in the next round!”
              
We had been outside for a while, any longer and we would be too late for our own performances.
              
The second round, improvised play based on a theme given by the judges. As I told Katou in the large room, this was her strong suit.
              
When it was her turn to go on stage, I went with her and waited behind the curtains backstage.
              
“Give it up for Katou, everyone!!” the announcer yelled out. “Now, judges, what will her theme be?”
              
The judges shared a few whispers between them, surely they had already planned the themes beforehand, but whispering like that is brilliant for keeping everyone in suspense.
              
Then one of the judges nodded and said, “Your theme will be ‘Identity Crisis’, good luck.”
              
I would’ve swallowed my guitar whole at those words. How would one improvise a song about identity crisis, I thought.
              
But then I remembered that this indeed was Katou’s strong suit. Her Silent Mayhem would even qualify as a song with Identity Crisis as theme.
              
“Ooh, a tough one. But if anyone’s capable of doing it, it has to be Katou! Best of luck…”
              
Katou took a deep breath before gently strumming the strings right above the sound hole. Moving her fingers up, the notes gracefully danced their way into my ears.
              
Now, time for the crisis.
              
For every ten seconds of calm, followed a strumming turned drumming on the strings. A sound so loud and aggressive followed by her gentle notes to turn into a bold noise again.
              
I was absolutely loving it. The double-faced song, every sound the polar opposite of the previous. The melodic embodiment of Thalia and Melpomene; Comedy and Tragedy, but Katou’s spin on it, crisis and tranquillity.
              
When her performance ended, she got a deafening applause from the audience. I was already sure of it, but after hearing her I was more than sure that she would be going to the final round.
              
The applause came to halt. Katou walked off the stage. It was my turn now. The last person of the sixteen people left.
              
I walked onto the stage, I was calm while listening to Katou’s performance, but now that it was my turn, I wasn’t calm in the slightest. My heart throbbing in my throat. When I’m nervous, I can’t swallow the saliva in my mouth. When I did, I felt it getting stuck in the middle of my throat, slowly finding its way down.
              
“Last, but surely not least; it’s Koji!!”
              
I bowed.
              
“Judges, please, tell us the theme…”
              
One of the judges pointed to another sitting at the other end of their long table. He seemed to nod repeatedly while doing some random gestures with his hands. I noticed it earlier, too. They’re stalling for suspense, I didn’t let it get to me.
              
“Alright, Koji. Your theme will be; solitude.”
              
“Solitude,” the announcer clapped in his hands twice before rubbing them together, “That’s an interesting one. Everyone, Koji on the guitar with solitude as his theme! Best of luck…”
              
I sat down in the chair. I closed my eyes and tried to shut off from the world. Solitude.
              
Would it be fair if I played Hollow Me?
              
It wouldn’t count as improvising, but who could check my mind… right?
              
I let the thought go. I didn’t want to go through with a pre-prepared song. Improvising, it’s not that I’m too bad at it.
              
I held my left hand high on the fingerboard and rhythmically played low notes. I accidentally made one sound too loud, so I instantly let go of my strings, making the note linger in the air. The pause, although not fully intended, made it sound brilliant.
              
With that effect in mind, I thought back to Katou’s performance.
              
Her strumming to drumming, the screams inside one’s head are the biggest signs of solitude, aren’t they?
              
I was copying a page out of her book, but it was Koji enough to be my own. The low notes, the screams and the dramatic pauses.
              
I liked it.
              
It wasn’t on Hollow Me’s level, but this was certainly enough to make it through to the next round.
              
When my performance ended, I got a loud applause as well. I bowed and left the stage, hoping that I could soon return.
              
I opened the door to the large room again and saw both Katou and Kashimoto smiling at my return.
              
“We’re going through to the next round!” she cheered. “No doubt about it!”
              
Kashimoto nodded, “Both forty-seven and the girl will be worthy opponents.”
              
It seemed as if he was talking to himself more than he was talking to us.
              
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I said. “The jury has yet to make a decision.”
              
After my performance, it took the length of a commercial break before we would continue. The judges had made their picks as for who would be playing in the final eight. Where both their and the audience’s votes will count towards getting a winner.
              
After the short break, the announcer freed us from our nerves.
              
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he was speaking really slowly, “I will be announcing the finalists; the final eight contestants, who will be battling it out for the top spot with a song of their choice.”
              
Katou placed her hand on my shoulder, tightly clenching it.
              
“The judges have made their decision.”
              
He walked up to the judges’ panel and took an envelope out of their hands.
              
“This envelope contains the names of eight people. I will now open it,” he opened it, ever so slowly. “Give your loudest applause for the following contestants—”
              
I closed my eyes and my ears couldn’t comprehend any name that wasn’t mine, Katou’s or Kashimoto’s.
              
Name one, followed by two.
              
“—The violinist, Kashimoto!!”
              
My eyes were still shut tight. I couldn’t hear name four, nor five, but then six; “The guitarist, Katou!!”
              
My eyes were still closed. Name seven, not mine either. The pattern I had noticed in the way we got called to stage was that no one was first twice, second twice, last twice or anything twice for that matter. No one had the same position twice.
              
I didn’t make it.
              
“And the final person…” he put the sheet of paper back in the envelope, “Is no one other than Koji!!”
              
I heard the announcer, I heard my name. Little me, in the final eight. Who would’ve thought.
              
I rocked my head backwards, and couldn’t breathe.
              
“We did it!!” Katou jumped up, bouncing her weight on my unsteady shoulder. We both fell to the floor, but none of that mattered. We made it to the final eight.
              
She would be able to play Silent Mayhem. I would be able to show Kashimoto just what I’m made of.
              
The final eight… I couldn’t believe it.
              
But, once again, I was put in last spot, which made me all the more nervous. Though, honestly, I liked it. It would put more attention on my performance, and I was planning on being bold. If it works out as planned, this could be perfect.
              
The first person, with a flute, went to the stage to perform her song of choice.
              
Not  a word was shared in the large room, that only grew bigger the less contestants remained.
              
The second person played the piano.
              
The third person, Kashimoto. I watched him carefully on the TV.
              
“Kashimoto Hideo. I’m playing Moonlight Sonata, third movement.”

Once again he held his hand with the bow high up in the air. Striking it down on the strings of his violin. Aggressively opening the high-tempo classic from Beethoven.

His fingers on the fingerboard moved as rapidly up and down as the bow was gliding over his violin.
              
The intensity, the passion, the focus and the lucidity. That is the violinist; Kashimoto. For a second he had me thinking I picked the wrong instrument.
              
His head, placed down by his chin on the violin, was moving along with his wild violin movements. He was not only playing the music, he delved so deeply into its creation that he himself became the music.
              
After slowly gliding his bow over the strings, reverberating the sound through the room a final time, the song came to an end.
              
He didn’t miss a single note. A perfect violin performance.
              
For the first time that evening, the audience stood up; a standing ovation.
              
I applauded, too. He was the third person to play, the two people who played before him had probably accepted defeat already. They weren’t near Kashimoto’s Moonlight Sonata.
              
The next person walked onto the stage. She was dressed in a kimono. She played the national instrument of Japan, the koto. The pluck instrument, our national pride alone made her one of the favourites.
              
After her beautiful traditional display ended, I was sure that even she couldn’t beat Kashimoto.
              
I couldn’t concentrate on the next two performances. On top of my own nervousness came the nerves I felt in Katou’s stead.
              
She stood up, turned her head and smiled, “I have no choice but to leave you all in the dust.”
              
I smiled back at her, “Give it all you’ve got.”
              
With her guitar on her back she walked onto the stage. I watched the television screen closely.
              
“Our sixth contestant, no one other than Katou!”
              
She bowed, sat down on the chair and said, “I’m Katou Emiko. I will be playing an original song called Silent Mayhem.”
              
Vintage Katou Emiko. The tranquillity of her opening notes. Faster, faster and faster, until the calming sense of it was long gone. Time for terror. Harsh notes, but beautiful ones all the same. The contrast between light and dark that only she can bring out in the Katou-way.
              
Her sister must’ve been proud.
              
When her performance ended, she got a loud applause from both the audience and me. She was superb, the second best so far, I’d say. But still not enough to knock down Kashimoto’s performance.
              
Not only did I not listen to number seven’s performance, neither did I feel any time pass between his introduction and the audience’s applause.
              
I walked onto the stage, this nervous I had never been before. I made a big mistake, looking at the audience.
              
Their eyes filled with anticipation and expectations.
              
I was planning on winning, right?
              
I started doubting my decision. Maybe it was better to play One more time, One more chance instead, I thought.
              
But that would be no good. I want to win. With that song I wouldn’t land above the flute girl, the pianist, the violinist, the koto player and not above Katou either.
              
It had to be this.
              
“Our last contestant of the day, give it up for Koji!!”
              
I bowed, sat down and said, “I’m Kuruno Koji. I will be playing…” I took a deep breath, I made my decision, “Beethoven’s fifth symphony.”
              
The audience was audibly shocked, so was the announcer who’s surprise was loudly broadcasted in his microphone.
              
While I was seated, I realised that this was no good. The intensity I would be playing with couldn’t be done while sitting, that might be why it hasn’t worked out yet.
              
I stood up. My left hand placed high on the fingerboard, my right hand slightly in the air. I was about to copy another page out of Katou’s book. No strumming, this was drumming.
              
My right hand slammed on the strings, opening the song. I let go of the guitar, the sound echoed through the room like it did in the previous round, this time the pause made it even more dramatic.
              
I repeated it, pausing again.
              
Then followed the most difficult part, if technique let me down in this part, it would sound as if I was joking.
              
But I’m serious. My guitar technique is one of my greatest qualities.
              
My fingers moved along the fingerboard, sometimes my right hand would be playing higher than my left. This was a piano piece originally, so of course it looked out of place being played on a guitar, but the sound was nothing short of blazing, simply put; amazing.
              
This time I copied a page out of Kashimoto’s book. After strumming right beneath the sound hole, came the dramatic lower notes.
              
I didn’t just play the music, I became the music by lowering my body along with my guitar, the lower my notes got.
              
At this point, I was so far gone into my music that I once again forgot all about the cameras, the judges, the audience, everything.
              
I had never played the guitar so boldly before. I owned every part of the instrument and played a song you’d never think would come out of it.
              
I was bursting with energy, getting hotter by the second. The sweat didn’t only fall down in drops of my head, the palms of my hands were getting sweaty as well. If the song didn’t end soon, my guitar might’ve slipped out of my hands.
              
But I was confident. No moonlit movements could compare to my sun-beaming symphony. Radiating energy with my sound and motion.
              
Kashimoto, Katou, everyone else, too. I’ll be taking first place.
              
The final part, passionate strumming, ended by a single lingering note.
              
I was done.
              
I had a hard time catching my breath. For a moment I was lost on stage. I saw the cameras, the judges and the audience. My song had clearly ended, but after my final note, no other sound followed.
              
Right then, father out of all people stood up in the audience and started applauding. Mom quickly followed which started a chain reaction in the room. Soon after, I received the second standing ovation of that evening.
              
I bowed and left the stage. When I arrived in the large room again, no one said a word. Both Katou and Kashimoto, too, stared at me while looking like mannequins. Until I stood right in front of them.
              
“…Koji,” Katou said my name, and nothing else.
              
“Forty-seven… When did you get this good?”
              
I was about to form a response, before the announcer interrupted, “Right now, the audience are filling out their votes,  so are the judges of course. After the short commercial break, we’ll be back… to announce the winner. See you soon.”
              
“I’m going outside,” I abruptly said.
              
I couldn’t handle the tense atmosphere in the room at all.
              
When I was outside, I saw father leaving the venue as well.
              
“Ah, Koji. Out for a smoke, too?” he said while lighting up his cigarette.
              
“…I’m too young to smoke,” I said.
              
“I’m joking,” he puffed the smoke he inhaled. “You’re incredible, kid. I’ve never seen anyone evolve so fast in such little time.”
              
“…Thank you.”
              
“You’ve got something special. Something most people could only dream of,” he looked me in the eye. “You said you wanted to be the world’s best, right?”
              
I nodded my head. All this time, I had never forgotten about the ridiculous promise I made with Fuyuko and Nomura.
              
“You’re well on your way. Don’t let today go to your head, though. You’ve still got a long way to go. But if you take it step by step, you’ll reach the very top of the world. I’m sure of it.”
              
When he was done smoking he said, “I don’t do too well with tense situations either, but let’s go back inside, alright. Wouldn’t want to miss your first place announcement.”
              
He was very confident in me. I would like to say I was, too. But I definitely made some mistakes here and there, while Kashimoto didn’t miss a beat.
              
I went back inside, back to the large room right when the commercial break was over.
              
“Ladies and gentlemen. The moment we’ve all been waiting for. Which of these eight brilliant young musicians will be crowned the winner of the National Music Contest? Let’s find out.”
              
He walked over to the judges and was handed an envelope again.
              
“Once again… I’ve got the winner’s name right here in the envelope,” he was speaking slowly again, stalling for suspense.
              
He slowly opened the envelope, but didn’t look at what’s inside. Without losing eye contact with the camera he said, “The jury made their decision. The audience’s votes influenced the result. For the jury, the race for the top spot was tight, the same applies for the audience. It was close. But we’ve got a winner.”