For five days since that day, Mio couldn't get Kanade out of her head. There was a sensation lingering in her fingertips. That vibration transmitted through the piano's soundboard. And the temperature of Kanade's fingers when they touched her lips. Every time she remembered, her face grew hot, and anxiety chased right after. (Would it be a bother if I went again?) Still wearing her coat, Mio stood in the entryway for more than thirty minutes. She'd go. Then she'd think it was impossible. The cycle repeated. But her feet were already moving toward the door. She took the train and got off at Furukawa Town. She walked through the old shopping street of Kawasemi Avenue. Passing in front of the butcher shop "Nishida," the red of the meat on display caught her eye. At the vegetable shop "Maruyoshi," tangerines were piled high in cardboard boxes. The November wind was cold, and Mio walked with her coat pulled close. She arrived in front of the workshop. Darkened cedar board exterior walls. A small wooden sign—Tachibana Piano Tuning. Peering through the glass, Kanade was working at an upright piano. His long black hair was tied back, and a white cloth covered his eyes. His 175-centimeter frame was bent forward, clinging to the piano. His fingers moved slowly, checking something. (It would be bad to interrupt...) Mio took a step back. In that instant, Kanade lifted his face. From inside the workshop, he was facing her direction. Even though his eyes were covered. As if he knew she was there. Kanade's mouth moved. —Welcome. Just that, and something warm spread through Mio's chest. He didn't seem bothered. He hadn't been waiting for her, but—there was a sense that this place held a space for her. Mio took a deep breath and pushed open the door. 　　　　◇ "[gentle]Today, let's practice reading music through your body," After Kanade seated Mio at the grand piano, he conveyed this through tactile reading. His fingertips read the movement of Mio's lips. Mio nodded. Kanade took both of Mio's hands and placed them flat on the piano's soundboard. The wood surface was cold, faintly smooth. "[serious]Relax. Place your entire palm flat against it," Kanade touched the piano keys. A low F note—she would understand later that's what it was. In that instant, vibration ran through Mio's palm. From the base of her fingers, through her wrist, her arm, and all the way to her breastbone. It felt like something was entering her body. (This is... sound.) Mio found herself looking at her own hand. Nothing had changed. But her body had definitely received something. Kanade played a middle A this time. This time a different place moved. The center of her palm trembled finely. A finer vibration than before. A different quality than before. "[gentle]Low notes come to your chest, middle notes to your entire palm. High notes come to your fingertips," When Kanade played a high E, this time her fingertips tingled in response. Delicate, almost ticklish. Mio lingered in the afterglow of that sensation for a while. Kanade continued the lesson while occasionally touching Mio's hand gently with his fingertips. "[gentle]Are you feeling it here?" With each touch, Mio felt her breathing catch for a moment. She could tell where Kanade's fingers were touching. She could feel their warmth. But she nodded without letting it show on her face. After a while, Mio became absorbed. Music entered her body. Not through her ears, but in a different form—and yet, it was definitely entering. The thing that had been closed for two years was slowly opening from the edges of her body. The workshop's solid oak floor transmitted vibrations through the soles of her feet. The chair seat transmitted them through her hips. Her entire body had become like an instrument. (Ah.) Mio realized it. Her heartbeat wasn't normal. It was fast. Every time Kanade played the piano, every time his hand touched hers, her pulse quickened. It wasn't just the music, Mio understood. But she didn't let herself think beyond that. 　　　　◇ The lesson reached a pause, and the two of them sat side by side on chairs in the workshop. Kanade turned toward Mio, preparing for tactile reading. Mio placed her fingers on Kanade's lips. His words entered through her fingertips. "[serious]When I was seventeen, I took the entrance exam for a music school," Mio listened quietly. "On the day of the entrance examination, the examiner told me that being completely blind would make it difficult to participate in group classes. The result was rejection." Kanade's lips moved matter-of-factly. Not so much avoiding emotion as speaking of something already settled. "I filed a complaint, but nothing changed. After that, I studied tuning on my own. Under my grandfather. He was the only one who kept telling me—your ears are worth a hundred people's, he said." "...I see," Kanade murmured softly. It sounded like he was telling it to himself. "My grandfather passed away five years ago, and I took over this workshop alone. Since then, I've been here. Even without light, there is sound. If there is sound, I believe the world is beautiful." Something caught in Mio's chest. (Beautiful...) That word felt distant somehow. Kanade could say the world was beautiful even without light, while Mio couldn't find beauty in a world without sound. That difference spread slowly through her chest. Mio paused for a moment. Then she took Kanade's hand and placed it on her own lips. Moving her mouth clearly so Kanade could read. "[sad]My world without sound is not beautiful," Kanade's fingers stopped. Silence flowed through the workshop. The strings of the old grand piano seemed to tremble faintly in the air. The silence of a world where nothing could be heard. Mio began to regret. Maybe she shouldn't have said such a thing. Wasn't she just imposing her weakness on Kanade? But Kanade slowly moved his hand. His fingertips touched Mio's cheek. It was only in that moment that Mio realized she was crying. Somewhere along the way, a single tear had traced down her cheek. Without her noticing. Kanade's fingertips traced the path of that tear. Slowly sliding across her cheek. Then gently, they withdrew. Kanade's mouth moved. Mio watched his lips move, dazed. "[gentle]Even without sound, your emotions vibrate. In this very moment, your sadness is shaking the air. That is music," Mio couldn't say anything. Her chest ached. But it was a completely different kind of ache from what she'd felt before. The warmth of Kanade's hand on her cheek wouldn't fade. Mio slowly looked down. (Ah.) She understood. She had come to understand. She was in love with this person. For two years, she'd been afraid to touch anyone, to be touched. She'd grown accustomed to being cut off from the world, to being alone. And yet now, the exact opposite emotion filled her chest. Not fear—something entirely different was painting over it. 　　　　◇ When they left the workshop, the November evening air touched her cheeks. "[gentle]Would you like to have something warm to drink?" Kanade conveyed this through tactile reading and pointed toward the back of Kawasemi Avenue. Mio nodded. The coffee shop "Komadori" was a small shop tucked away in the back of the shopping street. Six counter seats, four tables. When they entered, the aroma of coffee enveloped them. Warm air wrapped around Mio. From behind the counter, an older man looked up. Perhaps seventy-two years old. His hair was graying, his eyes narrow, his face somewhat hawk-like. His name was Fujii Genzou, Kanade would tell her later. An old friend of Kanade's grandfather, he'd been watching Kanade come every morning for his blend coffee. Genzou glanced at Mio briefly, said nothing, and began brewing two coffees. Mio and Kanade sat side by side at the counter. Mio placed her fingers on Kanade's lips, and Kanade read Mio's lips. A conversation exchanged only through touch. A form entirely different from ordinary conversation, yet it was definitely connecting them. Two coffees were placed on the counter. Mio cupped the cup in both hands. The warmth of the ceramic transmitted through her palms. "[serious]The spaghetti at this shop has sugar in it," Kanade said this after pulling his lips away from Mio's fingers. Mio was startled. "[surprised]Really?" Kanade nodded. Mio looked toward Genzou. Genzou continued wiping coffee cups, neither confirming nor denying, just continuing his work. His mouth seemed to move slightly, but she couldn't quite tell. "[gentle]My grandfather told me. It's been that way since long ago," Mio laughed softly. No sound came out, but the corners of her mouth rose. Kanade seemed to sense that change and smiled quietly. Genzou poured more coffee into Mio's cup. Still saying nothing. But his movements conveyed that he was truly seeing her. Mio placed her fingers on Kanade's lips and continued their conversation. Each time Kanade's lips touched her fingers so he could read, something moved within Mio's chest. She quietly deepened the sense that this form of conversation was something special, something she could share with no one else. Before the coffee grew cold, the two of them laughed a little and spoke a little. 　　　　◇ She arrived back at Tamachi Ward after nightfall. She rode the elevator at Maison Claris and got off on the fifth floor. She walked to her apartment door and took out her key. Vaguely, she thought about how many vibrations her hand had received throughout the day. The warmth of Kanade's hand seemed to linger on her cheek. Before inserting the key, she checked the mailbox. One envelope was inside. A white, carefully prepared envelope. A logo was printed in the upper left corner. —Stella Promotion. Mio's hand stopped. For two years, nothing had come. After that press conference, there had been only silence. She knew the contract for her hiatus was still in effect, she understood that, but Kirishima Naoto had said nothing. And now, suddenly. She checked the return address. Kirishima Naoto, it read. She opened it. She took out the document inside. —To Shiraishi Mio: A Proposal Regarding Your Return. As she tried to read further, her hand trembled. The letters blurred. Mio pushed the document back into the envelope. She placed it face-down on the table. The memory of today was still in her body. The vibrations Kanade's piano had transmitted. The warmth of his fingertips on her cheek. The heat of the coffee at Komadori. All of it had felt so warm, but now, with this single envelope, it all seemed to recede into the distance. Mio couldn't take her eyes off the envelope. Lying face-down, it had changed the air of the room. The man who had been silent for two years was moving again. What that meant—Mio still didn't know. But a premonition that something was about to change spread quietly, unmistakably, through her body.