Chapter Sixteen — “Something Left Behind”

“Mommy's heading out, Haruki.”

Machiko said goodbye to her beloved cat and stepped outside.

A few steps later—

Oh! I forgot again!

She hurried back inside.

She ran up the stairs to the second floor, where her husband, who had only just woken up, watched her rushing around.

“One of these days, you're going to fall down those stairs.”

He yawned and headed downstairs.

Machiko entered her room and sat down in front of the digital piano...

Twenty minutes later, she was already on a bus heading for the station.

I'm only leaving a little later than usual, but it's less crowded.

Maybe I should start taking this one instead.

Normally, she took a bus that got her to work thirty minutes early.

Maybe it's about time I graduated from those packed commuter trains.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead.

---

Machiko worked at the Fourth Factory, mainly doing assembly work.

During her break that day, she had lunch with Nakano, a coworker around her age.

“By the way, Machiko, how's the piano going?”

“It's so much fun. I'm really glad I started.”

“I thought it would suit you. You're especially good at delicate, detailed work.”

“Thank you.”

Machiko smiled.

“When I was younger, there was actually a time when I really wanted to learn.”

She paused.

“But that was right around the time I started dating my husband...”

“Then came marriage. Raising children.”

She gave a small laugh.

“So I gave up on it a long time ago.”

She looked thoughtful.

“But isn't it strange?”

“Really? I didn't know that.”

Nakano smiled.

“That's lovely. Didn't you start saying you wanted to do something new around this time last year?”

“Was it after you finished raising your kids? Did you suddenly remember?”

“Maybe.”

Machiko nodded slowly.

“Maybe that's exactly what happened.”

“Around this time last year, I think I was going through something like empty-nest syndrome.”

She smiled.

“My child was gone, and I felt relieved... but lonely at the same time.”

“I'd been so completely absorbed in raising a child.”

She laughed.

“Raising kids is a battle.”

“I'm still right in the middle of mine.”

“That's true.”

Machiko smiled.

“When I thought I was going through that kind of loss, sometimes I even found myself envying you.”

She shook her head.

“Funny, isn't it? The way people feel.”

“And now?”

“Now?”

Machiko laughed.

“Of course, I'm free at last. What a relief.”

The two women laughed together.

“So, how's the piano?”

Nakano asked.

“Are you getting any better?”

“Well...”

Machiko thought for a moment.

“At first, I thought there was no way I could make my right and left hands do completely different things.”

“But now... they're starting to cooperate a little.”

“So you've still got a long way to go.”

“Yeah.”

Machiko nodded.

“But honestly, I really enjoy it.”

“I think I actually like practicing.”

“Now I make sure to practice every morning and every night.”

“Every morning?”

“Yep.”

Machiko smiled.

“Actually, I forgot to practice this morning.”

“So after I left the house, I had to go back.”

“Seriously?”

Nakano laughed.

“You're still such a hard worker.”

“Whether it's work or a hobby, you're always the same.”

---

A little after eight that evening, Machiko returned to her room.

Finally, she had some time to herself.

I'm really not improving that quickly.

I guess it isn't that easy.

The piece she had chosen was “Love Theme from Purple Noon.”

One of her favorite films.

Compared with when I first started, I think I'm getting better...

But I've still got a long way to go.

She smiled to herself.

Then she began practicing again.

And again.

And again.

During her lesson the week before, her teacher had told her:

“Machiko, having a goal is the fastest way to improve.”

The teacher had smiled.

“Why don't you take part in the recital this autumn?”

“You've improved so much.”

“You've really been practicing hard.”

Those words had been circling around in Machiko's mind ever since.

I'll be fine.

I'll make it in time.

Honestly, Machiko sometimes felt confident enough to think she could probably perform even now.

My husband isn't interested in this kind of thing at all.

I'd like someone who actually enjoys music to hear me play.

Her husband had nothing to do with the arts, and they hardly ever talked about their hobbies.

Sometimes, Machiko found herself thinking that way.

---

On a warm Sunday in late autumn, with winter just around the corner, the recital finally arrived.

And when the moment came—

Machiko became so nervous that her hands began to shake.

She couldn't show even a fraction of what she had practiced.

The sun did not shine at all.

“Everyone is like that at first.”

Her teacher comforted her afterward.

Machiko nodded.

...Tomorrow, I'll start practicing again.