↵ Tsukuyomi Translations
だれかの心臓になれたなら
If I Could Be Anyone’s Heart
Memoir, Chapter 1 Part 3: “Creation” written by YurryCanon
After a long rainy season that lasted for what felt like an eternity, The cold rain relieved me of the moisture that clung to my skin, but now the hot, scorching white sun rays were shining down upon me. Despite the pain of living, the summer somehow lifts my spirits. It was a few days into summer vacation. Over a month had already passed since I picked up the guitar. Before summer vacation, I had no more than a few hours to play guitar after coming home from school, so I couldn’t help but anxiously wait for summer vacation to come, just like a kid in elementary school.
Whenever I couldn’t play, I spent my time listening to music, watching videos of guitar performances, and devoted the majority of my life to music.
Mr. Hagino, or rather my mentor, regularly watches my performances and lends me guidance. I learned some chords, and I had figured out difficult chord changes, to some extent. I’m not sure whether I was making fast or slow progress generally, but I felt that I was nowhere near a satisfactory level. According to my mentor, first of all, women’s hands are smaller compared to men’s, which is a slight disadvantage when it comes to the guitar. I remember when I played piano as a kid, I had trouble reaching the octaves.
Having had such an experience, I’ve always made a conscious effort to massage and stretch my hands, hoping that my fingers would get longer, even by just a little, though I honestly don’t know how effective it’s been. There are still guitarists who are really skilled though, even if their hands are small. My mentor told me that if I work hard enough to learn about grip strength, flexibility, and muscular strength, then I would be less inferior. In any case, I basically can’t do anything but practice. Toudou-kun’s also writing a novel to submit to the competition. That means I have to work hard too.
In a small room of the rehearsal studio, I played the guitar in front of my mentor. His usual cheerful smile turned into a solemn look with firm lips as he watched my performance, making me extremely nervous.
”As I followed the sheet music to the ticking of the metronome, a guitar sounded, as if becoming one with the sounds I imagined in my head.
“You’re getting better,” my mentor said, with a cheerful smile showing on his face. All of a sudden, my tense feelings loosened and I smiled along.
”Thank you very much.”
“Well then, how about you try singing while you play?”
“Eh?” I instinctively let out a cracking voice whose echoes broke the silence in the studio. I had been pouring so much effort into just playing the guitar that the thought of singing while playing never crossed my mind. Come to think of it, when I first met my mentor, wasn’t there something he told me about singing?
“What do you think? Is it too hard?”
“…I can try.” Immediately after saying that, I was met with intense regret. Playing and singing. Doing both at the same time, could I really do such a thing?
”The trick to playing while singing is that it’s not a conscious effort. For example, take walking while having a conversation. You don’t pay attention to how you move your feet, do you? It’s the same as that. All you have to do is move your hands. You don’t have to worry about whether your hands will be perfect from the very beginning, so for now, let’s just sing.”
“I understand…!” I readied my guitar.
My hands remember the chords. The music sheets that I’ve studied closely for the past month have long been etched firmly in my mind. I feel the sweat start to appear on my forehead. Having to play before the very person who wrote this song instead of just some audience makes me feel more tense than anything else. My gaze wanders over to my mentor. His eyes are full of hope for me. Ah, so he’s not the type to reprimand failure. There’s nothing to be afraid of then. If I relax and just do it, then things will turn out okay.
I took a light breath, and began to sing. I let the guitar performance handle itself. More naturally than I ever imagined, my left hand, clasped around the neck of the guitar, grabs ahold of the chords, as I play notes with the pick in my right hand. It probably sounds much more clumsy than what I was playing earlier, when I focused myself on just playing the guitar, but I keep on singing with no room to listen any more carefully.
The song my mentor created, and the lyrics. Now, just like this, I try to turn them into sound, and again it permeates through my body. I don’t really know the details about what kind of emotions were put into this song. But, this seemed to be some kind of sincere song, one that goes beyond mere memories, I thought to myself as I felt the chest-tightening feelings start to flood over me.
When I finished singing, my mentor gave me a loud round of applause. My slightly disheveled breathing settles down, I take a deep breath, and I exhale just as much.
“Thank you, Yu-chan.”
“I-it’s nothing!” I wasn’t sure what I was being thanked for, but my mentor seemed to be satisfied. I let out a sigh of relief. The cool air coming from the air conditioner touched upon my hot skin, bringing about a pleasant feeling.
“You have a great voice, just as I thought. Moreover, the way you put your emotions into the song is linked to your singing technique.”
“Is that so…?”
“Mhm. I’m not exaggerating, I really think so. Of course, as you were playing, there were some parts where the pitch and rhythm were a bit fuzzy, but if you just keep on training, you’ll get better.” Hearing his voice and seeing his face completely free of worry, I felt like I was walking on air. Later, my mentor gave me lectures on singing and guitar, gesturing with his hands through it all. He went through my singing and performance bit by bit with me, thoroughly explaining the good parts and the bad ones. With the way he was so earnest with passion, I truly could feel that he had hope for me.
Countless flowers are blossoming. No, it’s clear that they aren’t flowers. They’re human bodies, and only from the neck up are they flowers. The crowds of flower-headed people fill every seat in the multi-purpose auditorium, packing it to the brim.
On the stage stands a gorgeous yet solemn jet-black grand piano, and with it, a lone girl. That’s the person I used to be. I set my hands upon the keys as I sit before the piano. My hands are shaking a little. There’s nothing to be nervous about in front of such a large audience. After all, they’re merely flowers. If you want to ease the tension, you can assume the people to be something other than people ー even flowers. Ever since I was taught that, I’ve been much less tense in public than I used to be. It’s fear that causes my hands to tremble. I fear being judged, of being criticized.
It’s not like I’m re-tempering the dull blade of my sword. If anything, I believe it is definitely more of a sharpened blade, so the thought of it being crushed so easily makes me cower. I know. How there are many unreasonable things in this world that just can’t be helped, and how there are even things that surpass those in absurdity. Well that’s enough, I’ll quit thinking so hard about it. In any case, I’ll just use up all my strength. I don’t want to lose. Being compared to others is just how the competition goes, but right now, I have to win against myself. The stage lights illuminating the stage burn with so much heat. I gulped my breath down in order to calm my racing heartbeat, and played on the keyboard.
When I open my eyes, there’s the ceiling that I’ve grown used to seeing.
I get up from my bed, feeling a bit uncomfortable in my loungewear as the sweat sticks to my skin. Looking at the clock, I saw it was only six in the morning. It was still a while before my alarm was supposed to go off. Summer vacation’s over, and today marks the beginning of the second semester. That first morning, I woke up from a rather unpleasant dream that left me with a feeling of melancholy. I feel as if I’ve had that dream many times before. Maybe the piano competition has been weighing on my mind much more than I thought. I’ve got to wash off all this sweat and refresh myself. With my mind set on that, I made my way to the bathroom. By the time I finished showering and drying my hair, it was the time when I would usually wake up.
I went to the living room, and my mother had prepared some breakfast which was set on the table. It was unusually early for today. I took a seat in the dining room and turned on the television. “Today’s lucky people are… those of you who are a Sagittarius!” It is predicted that your troubles will transform into good fortune. Just a little longer until you get to see all your hard work pay off!” For some reason, I was a little happy to see in the corner of the morning TV program that my star sign would be the luckiest one. I’m not so sure I believe in this kind of stuff, but being told that I’m in first place after all makes me happy, while being told that I’m in last place lowers my spirits a little.
As I was watching television, I finished eating breakfast, and left the house earlier than usual. It was the time of year when the final traces of summer are most apparent. All the students on the way to school seemed sleepy in a way, with a listless atmosphere surrounding them.
I also stay up later than usual during long breaks like summer vacation, which disrupts the rhythm of my daily life, but I stayed fairly healthy, waking up right when my mother left the house and spending the entire day practicing the guitar, making sure I’d have longer to practice each day, even by just a little bit.
I hope Toudou-kun’s doing okay. We didn’t meet up during summer vacation, so it’s been over a month since we last met. I wonder if he’s finished that novel that he was planning on submitting to the competition. There were only a few days when the library was available over the break, but maybe Toudou-kun went to the library in town to write his novel. It might just be my own imagination, but I had a feeling that Toudou-kun didn’t enjoy staying at home for some reason.
It’ll take quite a bit of effort, but maybe I’ll try going to the library today.
During the time before the morning classes would begin, all of my classmates chatted with each other about the memories they made over the summer. I heard people talking about going to the beach, to the amusement park, and other stories of that sort, while I looked back on my own summer vacation and remembered that I did nothing but play the guitar. My mentor also asked me about whether I went out to enjoy some time with family or friends, and upon hearing that I turned down all of their invitations, he seemed rather worried. Enjoying my summer vacation like a regular student didn’t appeal to me much for some reason.
Even just a little time spent without playing guitar is precious time that’s lost, I thought.
After the opening ceremony finished, we turned in our homework, the committee members for the current semester were chosen, we were assigned our new seats, and just like that, all the lessons for that day came to an end. I heard that the library would be open from today, so once I left my classroom, I walked there swiftly. When I opened the library door, I saw nobody was around yet. It had been a little over a month since I last came here, but somehow it felt really nostalgic. Strolling along the paths between the rows of bookshelves, I waited for Toudou-kun, and soon enough, he arrived, placing his bag down at his usual seat.
“Toudou-kun. It’s been a while.”
“Ah… Tokawa. Long time no see.” He seemed a little more grown-up than the last time I saw him before summer vacation.
“Have you gotten taller?”
“What do you think?”
”Hm… I’m pretty sure you have.”
I stood in front of Toudou-kun and moved my hand toward him, measuring from the top of my head to his. “Yep, you’ve gotten a little taller than me.”
“Y-You think so? Maybe it’s just your imagination.” He seemed to have somewhat of a happy look on his face.
“Anyways, how’s the novel coming along?” I ask, as he glances at the envelope of writing paper he held in his hands, and tells me,
“It’s almost complete, more or less, but I’ve been stuck for a while trying to decide how it should end.”
“An ending, huh…”
“Even if everything’s good up to the halfway point, what ultimately determines the impression left by a work of art is what happens during the final moments. The original idea I had in mind for the development was rejected, so I haven’t been able to come up with anything from there.”
“I see…”
“Which do you prefer, Tokawa? Happy endings or sad endings?”
“Um…” Having been asked that by Toudou-kun, I stayed silent. I let my eyes wander around and tried to see if I could recall any books or movies I might know.
“Would it be unfair to say that I like both?”
“Well I’m the same, really. In terms of which one lingers in your heart longer, I don’t think either is better than the other, no matter if it’s a happy ending or not. Though, I think happy endings are popular among most people.”
“Right,” I replied. He nodded silently.
Then with lonesome eyes, he said, “I’m often told that stories with sad endings don’t sell very well these days. But I don’t think creating works to sell is the only thing that matters.”
“I wonder what the competition will be looking for…”
“Writing skills are absolutely necessary, along with originality and such, but in the end, it’d be a story that’ll appeal to the general public, one that feels good.”
“So in other words, something that will sell.”
“…”
There was a long silence. I was overcome with regret, thinking I must have said something I shouldn’t have. In reality, it probably didn’t last that long, but the heavy atmosphere made it feel like it was dragging on for much longer.
“Say, do you think something’s worthless if it can’t sell?” My eyelids twitch finally hearing Toudou-kun’s voice again. There seemed to be a trace of sadness in his words.
“…Hmm. That’s not it. I think that as long as there’s somebody who wants it, then there’s sure to be meaning in it.”
“Meaning…” With that, he didn’t say another word. It seemed like there was something on his mind again. I ask him a question, trying to break the silence.
“Toudou-kun, what’s the merit of a bad ending to you?”
“Let me think…” Leaning against the windowsill, he stood with his arms folded like he was lost in deep thought. “I guess the one good thing about bad endings is that there’s a sense of realism in them. There are a lot of people who want to see something happy, at least in the world of fiction, while an irredeemably unhappy story is sure to leave a bitter aftertaste.”
“Well even with so-called happy endings, it’s not often that everything falls into place beautifully with happy people all around.”
“That’s true. For example, a majority of stories about good and evil have a happy ending, but if you write from the bad guy’s point of view, then it’ll probably have a bad ending, and I think you’ll be able to feel the satire and morals more deeply.”
“It’s true that the story changes depending on whose point of view you write from. In most cases, the protagonist is the good guy, while the antagonist is the bad guy, but even the bad guy has some dignity and good reasons for what he does”
“I don’t think it’s absolute evil, but rather relative evil. I think its up to the reader to judge whether they’re good or evil. The same goes for the common revenge dramas. Some things can’t be saved just by being right.”
“They can’t be saved just by being right, huh?”
“Well, you know, people generally form an attachment to the main character and get emotionally involved with them, and they wish for the character’s happiness. Creative works are a means of escaping reality after all.
“Then creating it is an even greater escape from reality, right?”
“Right, oh and on the topic of creation, I started writing a song.”
“Woah… You have to let me listen!” It made me kind of happy hearing that he wanted to listen, and I started to grin.
“I haven’t written enough to be able to show people yet, but I’d be happy to show you when it’s done, if that’s alright.”
“…! Alright. I’m looking forward to it.” Toudou-kun smiled brightly at me, perhaps having realized that I was saying the same thing that he did before. I thought it was funny and giggled back at him
Music and novels. They’re completely different from each other in their own ways, but they are the same in that they are creating a work of art. Even if mine is still poor compared to his, I felt a strong sense of joy just knowing that I’m creating something like he is. I want to create something just as amazing as his. I want it to be extraordinary. Those feelings grew stronger with each passing day.
Music is, to put it briefly, composed of melodies and chords. For example, if you play Do and Mi and So at the same time, that’s a C chord. It’s what we call a harmony. And then, if you add a musical accompaniment onto that, you can put a melody to it, and that’s it. It’s already music.
Looking to the desk in my room, I stare at the unfinished staff. The metronome swings left and right, and as I play chords along to the ticking sound, I jot down a melody onto the sheet music. There, I try to put down the words and lyrics. Then I do it over again, putting all my heart into it, without knowing whether it’s good or bad.
After recording the song with my phone’s voice memo app, I listen to it again and go “hmm’ as I tilt my head. I’m not satisfied with it at all. The melody and lyrics feel poorly written. How do I put it, it’s like it doesn’t linger in your ears.
What do I even want to sing in the first place? For some reason, I feel like I won’t be able to make a good song until that becomes clear to me. According to my mentor, there’s not a person on earth who’d be able to create a masterpiece from the very start, and in any case, they’d need a lot of experience with the creation process first.
I definitely feel the same, but after all, whenever I think about having someone listen to my songs, I want to create something that I can be satisfied with. It’s been a while since I began writing songs, but I keep on trashing my songs midway. I don’t have a single song that’s been fully realized.
“I don’t get it,” I mutter to myself almost unconsciously.
Laying on my bed and blankly staring at the ceiling, I let my thoughts circle around in my head. What came to mind was myself on the day of the piano competition. I dreamt about that day again this morning.
The irritability. The conflict. The anxiety.
What came to mind next was the back of a bird soaring through the sky. I wonder what it might mean.
Aspiration. Ambitions. Hope.
All sorts of emotions whirl around within me.
The reason I decided to start walking again is because Toudou-kun was there. He’s devoted to something and pours his heart and soul into it. That sort of thing felt beautiful. It seemed special. He seemed more free than anything.
He gave me the courage to take that first step, enough to make me think “me too.”
I can’t possibly expect anything anymore.
I’m just a single speck in the multitudes of dust.
But I was certainly born into this world.
That day, I finished a song for the first time.
It was a song that I wanted to be a single ray of hope in the darkness.
The name of that song was “Nightjar.”
And that was the beginning of the “creation” that I would devote the rest of my life to.