The Ordinary Days

A few days had passed since the competition.

School had returned to normal.

The hallways were crowded as usual. Students were rushing to their classes, voices rose from the classrooms, and teachers hurried through the corridors trying to get somewhere.

It was as if the competition that had taken place in front of hundreds of people only a few days ago had never happened.

For me, however, things were a little different.

The award I had received after the competition was still sitting on my desk at home.

Sometimes, when I returned home, I would look at it.

First place.

It was still a beautiful word.

But it no longer felt as simple as it once had.

Because whenever I looked at the award, I didn't only remember my performance on stage.

I also remembered that night when I had come seventh.

The dark hotel room.

The hours I had spent unable to sleep.

My thoughts about my mother.

And the things I had said to Ayame.

None of those things could be changed.

But life continued.

And I had to continue with it.

When I left my classroom during lunch break, the hallway was more crowded than usual.

As I walked, I heard a group of students talking about the competition.

"Umut really was incredible."

"I heard the judges already knew him."

"Even so, his performance was amazing."

I didn't stop when I heard them.

I took a few more steps.

Then I heard another voice.

"Wasn't that girl the reason their team came seventh?"

My steps slowed involuntarily.

I didn't turn around.

"Which girl?"

"Ayame."

"Oh..."

A short laugh followed.

"That's a shame."

I remained silent for a moment.

Then I continued walking.

But I couldn't get their conversation out of my head.

As I headed toward the music club, I saw Ayame.

She was walking alone at the other end of the hallway.

She used to always have someone with her.

Nozomi, Ayaka, or another student from the club...

But now she was alone.

She didn't notice me.

Just as I was about to walk past her, I heard a few students talking behind her.

"That's the girl who made the mistake at the competition."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Ayame kept walking.

As if she hadn't heard anything.

But I noticed that her steps became slightly faster.

I wanted to say something.

But I didn't.

Because I didn't know what I could say.

I could have said, "Ignore them."

I could have said, "Don't listen to them."

But those words felt too simple to me.

Because a few days ago, I had done the same thing.

I had blamed her too.

I had directed all of my anger toward her.

Now, seeing other people doing the same thing...

Somehow, it felt even heavier.

I didn't talk to Ayame that day.

Nor did I talk to her the next day.

Or the day after that.

The distance between us slowly became normal.

But that didn't mean things between us had been fixed.

We had simply learned not to approach each other.

One afternoon, Nozomi came over to me.

"Umut."

I looked up.

"What?"

"You still haven't talked to Ayame, have you?"

I was silent for a moment.

"No."

"Why?"

I didn't have a ready answer to that question.

"I guess..."

I paused.

"...I don't know what to say."

Nozomi looked at me for a few seconds.

"You apologized."

"Yeah."

"So?"

"That doesn't mean everything is fixed."

Nozomi didn't answer.

She simply nodded slightly.

"Maybe she needs some time."

"Maybe."

After school that day, I stopped by the music club.

As I passed the door, I heard the piano.

I stopped and listened.

Ayame was playing.

But there was something strange about the music.

She would play a few measures...

Then stop.

She would start again.

A few more measures...

Then stop again.

After a while, she made the same mistake in the same section.

This time, she pulled her hands away from the keys.

She didn't play anything for a long time.

Then she took a deep breath and started again.

The same section.

The same notes.

The same mistake.

She stopped once again.

I was standing silently outside the door.

I couldn't decide whether to go inside.

I had realized that Ayame was now afraid of making mistakes.

Before, whenever she made a mistake, she would get frustrated and try again.

Now, she seemed tense even before making one.

As if playing a wrong note...

Wasn't simply a musical mistake anymore.

As if that single note reminded her of the competition hall.

Seventh place.

The looks people had given her.

And perhaps the things I had said.

A few more notes sounded from inside.

Then silence.

I reached for the door handle.

I hesitated.

Should I talk to her?

Or should I wait a little longer?

My hand remained on the door handle.

Finally...

I didn't open the door.

I pulled my hand back.

And quietly continued walking down the hallway.

After Umut's footsteps disappeared down the hallway, the music club fell silent again.

Ayame was still sitting at the piano.

Her hands rested above the keys, but she wasn't pressing any of them.

She stared at the sheet music in front of her.

The same section.

The same section again.

She had lost count of how many times she had made a mistake there.

She took a deep breath.

She placed her fingers over the keys again.

The first few measures went smoothly.

Then she reached that section.

Her fingers hesitated for a moment.

One note came out wrong.

Ayame immediately pulled her hands away.

The only sound in the room was the brief silence that followed the wrong note.

She closed her eyes.

"Again."

she whispered to herself.

She started over.

This time, she played more slowly.

But when she reached the same section, something else appeared in her mind.

Seventh.

Her fingers stopped again.

She lowered her head.

"No..."

She tried once more.

This time, she didn't make a mistake.

But a few measures later, she stopped somewhere else.

She hadn't played a wrong note.

She simply couldn't continue.

Ayame placed her hands on her lap.

In the past, she would have gotten frustrated when something like this happened.

Then she would have tried again.

Once.

Twice.

Ten times.

A hundred times if necessary.

But eventually, she would play the section correctly.

Now she couldn't do that anymore.

Because every mistake reminded her of something else.

The competition hall.

The judges' eyes.

The whispers of the people around her.

And Umut's voice.

"This is because of you."

Ayame opened her eyes.

She slowly shook her head.

"No..."

It was as if she were trying to force the thought out of her mind.

But it wouldn't leave.

She remained at the piano for a while longer.

Eventually, she closed the sheet music.

She lowered the piano lid.

She picked up her bag.

And without saying anything, she left the club.

The next day at school, everything seemed normal again.

But it wasn't for Ayame.

As she walked through the hallway, she overheard a few students talking.

"She's still playing the piano after the competition."

"If I were her, I'd quit."

"Me too."

Ayame kept walking.

She didn't stop.

But her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.

She didn't want to hear the rest of the conversation.

She barely spoke during class either.

When the teacher asked her a question, she answered.

When her friends said something, she nodded.

But she didn't talk like she used to.

It was as if she checked every word in her mind before allowing herself to say it.

During lunch break, she went to the music club.

She sat down at the piano.

For a while, she simply stared at the keys.

Then she began to play.

A few other students were in the club as well.

Ayame tried not to think about them.

She focused on the music.

The first section went smoothly.

Then she made a small mistake in the second section.

Her fingers stopped immediately.

A few people in the room looked at her.

No one said anything.

But Ayame's heart began to race.

That silence...

Felt worse than being shouted at.

It was as if everyone was thinking the same thing.

She made another mistake.

Ayame tried to start again.

She pressed the first key.

Then the second.

Then the third.

But when her fingers began to tremble, she stopped again.

"I'm sorry."

she said quietly.

No one had been angry with her.

No one had said anything.

But Ayame still stood up.

She picked up her bag.

And left the club.

When the door closed behind her, one of the students inside looked at another.

"She's been like that lately."

"What do you mean?"

"She used to keep trying whenever she made a mistake."

There was a brief silence.

"Now she just stops."

Later that day, Umut came to the music club.

When he opened the door, a few students were inside.

Ayame wasn't there.

Umut looked around the room.

"Was Ayame here a moment ago?"

One of the students nodded.

"Yeah."

"When did she leave?"

"Just a little while ago."

Umut paused.

"Did something happen?"

The student shrugged.

"She made a mistake while she was playing."

Umut's expression changed.

"Then?"

"She stopped and left."

Umut said nothing.

The other student continued.

"She's been like that lately."

"What do you mean?"

"She used to keep trying whenever she made a mistake."

There was a short silence.

"Now she just stops."

Umut lowered his gaze.

He didn't say anything for a while.

Then, quietly:

"I see."

But he didn't feel like he understood anything at all.

That night, I sat alone in my room.

My violin was beside the bed.

Normally, I would have already started practicing by this time.

But this time, I didn't want to pick it up.

My mind was filled with thoughts of Ayame.

The moment she had stopped at the piano.

The way she had pulled her hands away after making a mistake.

And then...

"I'm sorry."

I kept thinking about those words.

No one had been angry with her.

No one had blamed her.

And yet, she had apologized anyway.

Because now, making a mistake wasn't simply making a mistake for her anymore.

I closed my eyes.

The words I had said that night echoed through my mind again.

"This is because of you."

I clenched my teeth.

Back then, I had truly believed it.

But now...

The more I saw how much Ayame had changed, the more I felt the weight of those words.

I quietly asked myself:

"What if I really am the reason she became like this?"

There was no answer.

Only the silence of the room.

The next day, I decided to talk to Ayame.

At the very least, I would say a few words.

Something more than an apology.

I wanted to actually talk to her.

When I saw her at the end of the hallway, I quickened my steps.

Just as I was about to approach her, I noticed that Ayame was talking to another student.

I stopped and listened from a distance.

"Why are you still playing the piano after the competition?"

Ayame remained silent for a few seconds.

"If I stop, it'll get worse."

The student frowned.

"Maybe you should quit."

Ayame didn't answer.

She simply looked down.

I was standing several meters away.

I was about to take a step toward her.

But I stopped.

Suddenly, I had forgotten what I was going to say.

I looked at Ayame.

It felt as though none of the confidence she used to have was left.

After a while, the other student walked away.

Ayame was left alone.

I was still standing where I was.

In the end, I didn't go to her.

Maybe it wasn't time yet.

Maybe before I could fix anything, I needed to truly understand what had happened.

Ayame disappeared down the hallway.

I remained there for a long time.

And for the first time...

I realized that I wasn't afraid of talking to her.

I was afraid of what I would say to her.

When lunch break came, I left the classroom.

Normally, I would go straight to the cafeteria at this time.

But today, I wanted to go somewhere else.

I walked toward the Student Council room.

I knocked on the door.

A moment later, a voice came from inside.

"Come in."

I opened the door.

The president and vice president were sitting at their desks.

The president was looking through some documents, while the vice president was working on something on her computer.

When they saw me, the president looked up.

"Umut?"

"Yeah."

The vice president looked at me as well.

"Did something happen?"

I didn't answer for a moment.

Then I closed the door behind me and stepped inside.

"I want to ask you something."

Both of them turned their attention toward me.

"About Ayame."

The atmosphere in the room changed instantly.

The president placed the paper he was holding on the desk.

"Ayame?"

I nodded.

"I was wondering how she's been lately."

The vice president remained silent for a few seconds.

Then she looked at the president.

"You've noticed it too, haven't you?"

The president nodded slightly.

"Yeah."

His answer came faster than I expected.

"Is she like that at home too?"

I asked.

The vice president took a deep breath.

"Yes."

The president leaned back slightly in his chair.

"She was stressed from time to time even before the competition."

"But this is different."

"How is it different?"

The vice president closed her laptop.

"She used to talk to us when she came home."

"She would talk about the competition, tell us what happened at school."

"But now, most of the time, she goes straight to her room."

The president joined in.

"Sometimes she doesn't come out for hours."

I was silent for a moment.

"What does she do?"

"Not always the same thing."

The vice president lowered her eyes toward the desk.

"Sometimes she sits at the piano."

"Does she play?"

"No."

That answer surprised me.

"She doesn't?"

"No."

"Sometimes we see her sitting at the piano for half an hour without playing anything."

"She just looks at the sheet music."

"Then she gets up and leaves."

Silence filled the room.

I put my hands into my pockets.

The president continued.

"She practices at night too."

"At night?"

"Yes."

"Several times recently, we've woken up and found her still playing the piano."

The vice president lowered her head slightly.

"And always the same sections."

"Over and over again."

"If she makes a mistake somewhere, she starts from the beginning."

"Then again."

"And again."

I swallowed.

The image of her in the music club came back to me.

The same section.

The same mistake.

And the piano starting over again.

"How long does she practice?"

The president thought for a moment.

"Sometimes past midnight."

"Once, it was almost two in the morning."

I couldn't say anything.

The vice president looked at me.

"She's very afraid of something lately."

"What?"

"Making another mistake."

I looked up.

The vice president continued.

"She's asked us the same thing several times."

"What?"

There was a brief silence.

Then she said quietly:

"What if I make another mistake?"

The sentence seemed to hang in the air.

I said nothing.

Because I felt like I had heard those words before.

But now they meant something completely different.

The president looked at me carefully.

"Umut."

"Yeah?"

"I don't know what happened between the two of you."

I lowered my head.

"But it's clear that she changed after the competition."

I clenched my fingers.

The vice president quickly added:

"We're not telling you this to blame you."

"We don't really know what to do either."

"And Ayame hasn't openly told us any of this."

The president was silent for a moment.

"Maybe she doesn't want to talk about it."

I looked down at the floor.

The words I had said that night echoed through my mind again.

"This is because of you."

I couldn't speak for a while.

Eventually, I looked up.

"I..."

My voice trailed off.

I didn't know what to say.

The president looked at me but didn't pressure me to continue.

After a moment, he simply said:

"If you're going to talk to her..."

"Try not to pressure her."

I nodded.

"I understand."

I walked toward the door.

When I placed my hand on the handle, the vice president's voice came from behind me.

"Umut."

I turned around.

"Do you know what Ayame needs most right now?"

I didn't answer.

"Not to win another competition."

"But someone to remind her that making a mistake doesn't mean the world is going to end."

Her words touched something deep inside me.

I opened the door.

Without saying anything, I left the room.

I walked several steps down the hallway.

Then I stopped.

I leaned my head against the wall.

I closed my eyes.

I kept thinking about Ayame practicing the piano for hours at night.

Repeating the same section over and over.

Starting from the beginning whenever she made a mistake.

And eventually sitting at the piano without playing anything at all.

The way all of that connected with the words I had said a few days ago...

Left a heavy feeling inside me.

Maybe an apology wouldn't be enough.

Maybe I needed to understand why she was so afraid first.

And for the first time...

I thought that when I went to talk to Ayame,

it shouldn't be to speak.

It should be to listen.

Friday after school felt a little different from the other days of the week.

When classes ended, students slowly began leaving the school.

I grabbed my bag and left the classroom.

I ran into Ayaka and Nozomi in the hallway.

"We're going to the café today, right?"

Ayaka asked with a smile.

"Yeah."

Nozomi nodded.

"The same place."

A little while later, the three of us left school.

Ayame joined us a little farther down the road.

As usual, she didn't say much.

But at least she had agreed to come with us.

When we arrived at the café, it was as quiet as usual.

We sat at the table by the window.

Ayaka immediately picked up the menu.

"I'm going to try something different today."

Nozomi laughed.

"You said the same thing last time."

"I'm serious this time."

The two of them started talking among themselves.

I looked at Ayame, who was sitting across from me.

She was staring at the glass in front of her.

A little while later, Ayaka stood up to place our order.

"I'm going. What do you guys want?"

We told her our orders.

Nozomi stood up with her.

"I'm coming too."

The two of them walked toward the counter.

Only Ayame and I were left at the table.

Suddenly, it felt as though the atmosphere had changed.

I could still hear conversations from the other side of the café.

The coffee machine was making noise.

But there was silence at our table.

Ayame held her glass with both hands.

I looked at her for a few seconds.

Then I lowered my eyes to the table.

"Ayame."

She looked up.

"What?"

I hesitated for a moment.

"Can we talk about the competition?"

Her expression changed ever so slightly.

But her eyes returned to her glass.

"Sure."

Her voice was calm.

But it wasn't the same as before.

I took a deep breath.

"I want to apologize for what I said to you on the day of the competition."

Ayame didn't answer.

"I was angry."

"I couldn't accept the result."

"But that doesn't make what I said to you right."

Ayame remained silent for a few seconds.

Then she looked at me.

"It's okay."

I shook my head slightly.

"No."

Ayame looked at me in surprise.

"What?"

"I can't say it's okay."

"Because it isn't."

This time, Ayame didn't say anything.

I continued.

"I blamed you that night."

"And I shouldn't have done that."

Ayame's fingers tightened slightly around her glass.

"I made a mistake too."

"You did."

I said it calmly.

"But it was wrong of me to put all the responsibility on you."

Ayame looked away.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Finally, Ayame spoke quietly.

"I can't forget that mistake either."

I looked up.

"How long has it been like this?"

"Since the competition."

She let out a short breath.

"Whenever I play the piano, I remember it."

"The wrong note."

"Then everyone's faces."

"Then what you said."

She paused.

"And I feel like the same thing is going to happen again."

I didn't know what to say.

Ayame continued.

"That's why I keep practicing."

"Until I can play it correctly."

"Then I make a mistake."

"And it feels like all the effort I put in was for nothing."

The calmness in her voice was slowly disappearing.

But she wasn't crying.

She simply kept her eyes on the table.

"I used to get frustrated whenever I made a mistake."

"Then I'd try again."

"But now..."

She didn't finish the sentence.

I waited silently.

"Now I'm afraid before I even make a mistake."

The sentence left a heavy feeling inside me.

"Is it because of me?"

Ayame didn't answer immediately.

There was a long silence.

Finally, she nodded slightly.

"Partly."

My chest tightened.

"But it's not all because of you."

This time, I was the one who was surprised.

Ayame continued.

"I put too much pressure on myself even before the competition."

"I felt like I had to be good."

"Because everyone expected that from me."

She paused for a moment.

"When I made that mistake at the competition..."

"For the first time, I truly felt like I had failed in front of everyone."

Her voice became quieter.

"Then you got angry at me."

"And that thought became even stronger."

I lowered my eyes to the table.

"I understand."

Ayame shook her head.

"No."

She looked at me.

"You don't understand yet."

Her words silenced me.

There was no anger on her face.

Only exhaustion.

"Maybe you'll understand someday."

Then she took a small sip from her drink.

At that moment, Ayaka and Nozomi returned to the table.

"We're finally back."

Ayaka placed the tray on the table.

Nozomi sat down.

"What were you two talking about?"

Ayame answered immediately.

"Nothing."

I didn't say anything either.

Ayaka looked suspiciously at the two of us but didn't press the issue.

The conversation returned to normal.

Ayaka started talking about something funny that had happened at school.

Nozomi responded to her.

I added a few words from time to time.

Ayame simply listened to them quietly.

But just before we left the café, she looked at me for a moment.

Her expression was different from before.

It wasn't exactly the way it used to be.

But it wasn't completely unfamiliar either.

Maybe the distance between us was still there.

Maybe my words hadn't fixed anything.

But at least, for the first time...

I felt that there was still someone standing on the other side of that distance.

I woke up early on Saturday morning.

Even though it was the weekend, I couldn't fall back asleep.

For a while, I stared at the ceiling.

Then I noticed the award sitting on my desk.

First place.

Even after several days, the words still felt strange.

I picked up the award.

I stared at it silently for a while.

Then I changed my clothes and left home to visit my mother.

When I arrived at the hospital, the hallways were as quiet as usual.

One of the nurses noticed me and nodded in greeting.

I nodded back.

When I reached my mother's room, I knocked lightly on the door.

"Come in."

I opened the door.

My mother was sitting on her bed.

A small smile appeared on her face when she saw me.

"Umut."

"Hi, Mom."

I sat down beside her.

For a while, we talked about ordinary things.

School.

My friends.

The weather.

Then my mother noticed the award I was holding.

"What's that?"

I held it out to her.

"From the competition."

My mother looked at the award.

Then she looked at me.

"Did you get first place?"

I nodded.

"Yeah."

A big smile appeared on her face.

"Umut..."

She carefully held the award in her hands.

"I'm really happy for you."

I smiled too.

"Thank you."

My mother looked at the award for a few more seconds.

Then she turned toward me.

"But..."

I raised an eyebrow.

"But what?"

"Why do you look so troubled?"

I was silent for a moment.

"I'm not."

My mother let out a quiet laugh.

"Do you really think you can fool me?"

I looked away.

We remained silent for a while.

Eventually, I took a deep breath.

"Before the competition..."

"I came in seventh."

The smile on my mother's face didn't disappear, but her expression became more serious.

"And I had a really hard time accepting it."

I lowered my head.

"I've always placed in the top three."

"It was the first time I'd ever gotten a result like that."

"Then..."

My sentence trailed off.

My mother waited.

"I blamed Ayame."

My mother was silent for a few seconds.

"What did you say to her?"

I told her everything.

How I had shouted at her that night.

How I had put all of my frustration and failure on her.

How I had apologized afterward.

But also how the distance between us still hadn't completely disappeared.

My mother listened to me without interrupting.

When I finished, she didn't answer immediately.

Finally, she said:

"It's understandable that you were angry because you lost."

"But blaming the person you were angry with is something else."

I looked up.

"I know."

"Now you know."

Her voice was calm.

"That's what matters."

We were both silent for a while.

Then my mother looked at me.

"Umut."

"Yeah?"

"Why were you so afraid of coming in seventh?"

This time, I couldn't answer.

I felt like I knew the answer.

But I didn't want to say it.

"Because..."

I thought for a moment.

"I thought I wasn't good enough."

My mother nodded slightly.

"That's the real problem."

I looked at her in surprise.

"Not the seventh place."

"No."

"It's the fact that you turned a result into a judgment about yourself."

I listened to her silently.

"Coming in seventh in a competition doesn't make you less talented."

"Coming in first doesn't make you more valuable either."

My eyes moved toward the award.

My mother continued.

"For a long time, you've been using your achievements to measure yourself."

"When you come in first, you feel like you're good enough."

"When you lose, you feel worthless."

She paused for a moment.

"Living like that is exhausting, Umut."

I held the award between my hands.

I had never thought about it that way before.

"What if I lose again?"

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

My mother looked at me.

"You might."

Her answer was much simpler than I expected.

"And the world will keep turning."

I let out a small laugh despite myself.

My mother smiled too.

"But about Ayame..."

I looked up.

"If you want to help her, don't try to fix her first."

"Then what should I do?"

"Be there for her."

"If she wants to talk, listen."

"If she doesn't want to talk, stay beside her without forcing her."

I thought about it for a while.

"What if I can't change anything?"

My mother shook her head slightly.

"Sometimes people don't need a solution."

"They just need to know they're not alone."

Her words stayed in my mind.

After a while, I stood up.

I placed the award on the table, intending to leave it with her.

My mother shook her head.

"No."

"Why?"

"You earned it."

She handed the award back to me.

Then she paused for a few seconds.

"But don't use it to prove who you are."

I took the award back.

"Okay."

My mother smiled.

"Now go."

"I need to rest."

I smiled too.

"Okay."

I walked toward the door.

Before leaving, I looked at my mother one more time.

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

My mother simply smiled.

I left the room.

As I walked through the hospital hallway, the award was still in my hands.

First place.

This time, when I looked at it, I didn't feel only pride.

Coming in first still felt good.

But I was beginning to understand that it didn't define who I was.

When I reached the end of the hallway, I stopped.

Ayame came to mind.

Maybe my mother was right.

Maybe instead of trying to fix her...

I needed to truly listen to her first.

When I arrived at school on Monday morning, everything looked normal.

The hallways were filled with students.

Some were hurrying to their classrooms, while others were talking with their friends.

As I walked through the crowd, however, I kept thinking about what my mother had told me.

"Don't try to fix her."

"Listen to her first."

Those words had been running through my mind for the past two days.

When I turned the corner, I saw Ayame.

She was talking to a few students.

I slowed my steps.

Normally, I would have walked straight over to her.

But this time, I stopped.

I watched from a distance for a while.

One of the students spoke with a smile.

"Is it true that you came in seventh at the competition?"

Ayame's expression didn't change.

"Yes."

Another student gave a small laugh.

"I didn't expect that."

"A pianist as good as you should have gotten a higher placement."

Their words weren't exactly insults.

But their tone made their intentions clear.

Ayame said nothing.

She simply lowered her head slightly.

"I have to go."

She said that and walked away.

The students began talking about something else a few seconds later.

I remained where I was.

In the past, I would have walked straight over to them.

Maybe I would have tried to shut them up.

Maybe I would have defended Ayame right in front of her.

But I remembered what my mother had said.

Don't try to fix her.

So I didn't follow her.

At least, not immediately.

Ayame walked toward the end of the hallway.

Then she went upstairs.

After waiting for a few seconds, I followed her.

But I kept my distance.

Eventually, Ayame stopped in a quieter part of the school.

She was alone in an empty hallway near the windows.

I stopped a few meters behind her.

She noticed me.

She turned around.

"Umut?"

"Yeah."

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Finally, I said:

"If you want to be alone for a while, you can."

Ayame raised her eyebrows slightly.

"Why are you saying that?"

"I don't know."

I thought for a moment.

"I guess this time, I don't want to tell you what you should do."

Ayame remained silent.

"Before, I was always trying to fix things."

"But now..."

My sentence trailed off.

"I think I just need to listen."

Something in Ayame's expression changed.

She looked at me for a few seconds.

Then she turned back toward the window.

"Listen?"

"Yeah."

"What if I have nothing to say?"

"Then you don't have to say anything."

Ayame didn't answer.

The silence in the hallway became heavy again.

After a while, Ayame began speaking quietly.

"Sometimes I sit down at the piano."

"Then I don't even know where to put my hands."

I looked at her.

But I didn't interrupt.

"I start playing."

"Then I remember the competition."

"The mistake I made."

"The judges' faces."

"Then..."

She took a short breath.

"You."

I lowered my eyes.

"Whenever I make a mistake, I feel like the same thing is going to happen again."

"Like I'll end up standing in front of everyone like that again."

"That's why I keep practicing over and over."

"But no matter how much I practice, the fear doesn't go away."

Her voice became quieter and quieter.

I didn't say anything.

I didn't try to give her advice.

I didn't search for the perfect words to make her feel better.

I simply listened.

After a while, Ayame looked at me.

"You didn't tell me anything today."

I thought for a moment.

"Did I need to?"

Ayame shook her head slightly.

"No."

There was a short silence.

Then a very faint smile appeared on her face.

"I think this is better."

I smiled slightly as well.

Ayame turned around.

"I need to go before class."

"Okay."

She took a few steps.

Then she stopped.

Without looking back, she said:

"Umut."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

After saying that, she continued walking.

I remained alone in the hallway.

As I watched her disappear, I remembered my mother's words again.

Maybe she really was right.

I didn't have to fix someone.

Sometimes, simply being there was enough.

And for the first time...

I thought that maybe I could help someone without having to do anything at all.

When lunch break came, I went to the Student Council room as usual.

When I entered the room, the president and vice president were working at their desks.

I gave them a brief greeting, then took my violin case and moved to the quieter corner of the room.

I took out my violin.

As usual, I started with a few scales.

Then arpeggios.

After that, I worked on a few bow-control exercises.

My fingers moved across the fingerboard almost out of habit.

After a while, I moved on to the piece I had been practicing.

The first few measures went smoothly.

Then I played a wrong note during a fast passage.

I noticed the sound immediately.

My hand stopped.

For a moment, I remained completely still.

In the past, I would have started over immediately.

I would have played the same section again and again.

Whenever I reached the part where I had made the mistake, I would stop and start over.

But this time, I didn't.

I placed my bow back on the strings.

I continued from the measure where I had made the mistake.

A little while later, I reached the same section again.

This time, I played it correctly.

But a few measures later, I made another mistake.

I frowned.

I lowered my violin.

For a while, I stared silently at the instrument in front of me.

I felt an old frustration rising inside me.

"Again?"

I whispered.

Then Ayame came to mind.

Then my mother's words.

"Coming in seventh in a competition doesn't make you less talented."

I took a short breath.

Then I quietly told myself:

"One mistake."

I waited for a moment.

"Just one mistake."

I raised my violin again.

This time, I didn't start over.

I continued from where I had made the mistake.

When I finished practicing, I noticed the president watching me.

He had been looking at me silently for a while.

"How long have you been standing there?"

I asked.

"Just a little while."

The president stood up from his chair.

"You've been playing differently lately."

I raised my eyebrows slightly.

"Different?"

"Yeah."

I lowered my violin.

"What’s different?"

The president thought for a few seconds.

"Before, whenever you made a mistake, you'd start the entire section over."

He paused.

"Now you keep going."

I thought about what he had said.

"I guess I realized that stopping doesn't change anything when I make a mistake."

The president smiled slightly.

"That's an important realization."

I didn't ask why.

The president walked toward the window.

"People usually think good musicians are people who never make mistakes."

"Playing cleanly."

"Good intonation."

"Correct rhythm."

"All of those things are important."

Then he turned toward me.

"But what really matters on stage is not losing the music when you make a mistake."

I remained silent.

The sentence stayed in my mind for a few seconds.

Music...

Mistakes...

Moving forward.

Maybe I had been mistaking perfection for something else all these years.

Maybe being good and never making mistakes weren't the same thing.

When I realized how late it had gotten, I put my violin back into its case.

The president returned to his desk.

I headed toward the door.

Just as I was about to open it, my phone vibrated.

I looked at the screen.

There was a message.

Ayame.

I opened it.

There was only one sentence.

"Thank you for what you said today."

I stared at the message for a few seconds.

I opened the keyboard to reply.

"Don't worry about it."

I typed it.

Then deleted it.

"It's not a problem for me."

I deleted that one too.

I thought for a while.

In the end, I wrote only two words.

"You're welcome."

I pressed send.

Then I put my phone back into my pocket.

I started walking down the hallway.

There was a strange calmness inside me.

Everything between Ayame and me wasn't fixed.

I knew that.

Maybe there was still a long road ahead of us.

But I wasn't trying to fix everything as quickly as possible anymore.

I was beginning to learn the same thing for myself.

When I made a mistake...

I didn't have to start everything over.

Sometimes...

All I had to do was keep going.

When I arrived at school the next morning, everything seemed normal.

The hallways were crowded as usual.

Students were hurrying to their classrooms, while others were talking about exams or what they had done over the weekend.

When I entered the classroom, Nozomi was already at her desk.

She looked up as soon as she saw me.

"Umut."

"Yeah?"

"Did you eat breakfast?"

I paused for a moment.

"No."

The expression on Nozomi's face changed.

"Again?"

"I wasn't really hungry this morning."

"That's not an excuse."

She opened her bag and took out a small package.

"Here."

She held it out to me.

"What is it?"

"A snack."

"You were going to eat that."

"I'll get something else."

She put the package into my hand.

Just then, Ayaka walked over to us.

"What's going on?"

"Nozomi is feeding Umut again."

Ayaka looked at me.

"You didn't eat breakfast again?"

"What are you two, my mothers?"

They answered at the same time.

"Yes."

I was silent for a moment.

Then the three of us started laughing.

For the first time in a while, it felt nice for the morning to be this ordinary.

The lessons went normally as well.

During math class, the teacher wrote a problem on the board.

I thought about it for a few seconds and, thinking I had found the answer, raised my hand.

"Umut?"

I stood up.

I gave my answer.

The teacher stared at the board for a few seconds.

"Wrong."

A few people in the class laughed.

I sat back down.

Nozomi leaned toward me and whispered,

"At least you tried."

"Thanks."

"I was joking."

I frowned at her.

Nozomi started laughing.

When lunch break came, I stood up to take my violin to the Student Council room.

As I walked down the hallway, I stopped for a moment.

Then I looked at my violin case.

I didn't want to practice today.

For the first time, admitting that to myself felt strangely easy.

When I entered the Student Council room, the president and vice president were working at their desks.

"No practice today?"

The president looked up.

"There is."

"I'm not practicing today."

They both looked at me.

The vice president asked in surprise,

"You?"

"Yeah."

The president gave a small laugh.

"Finally realized you're human?"

"Very funny."

I left my violin case beside the table and sat down in an empty chair.

For a while, the three of us just worked on our own things.

Then we started talking.

We talked about an upcoming school event.

We had a short argument about why the food in the cafeteria seemed to be getting worse every day.

The vice president told us about something funny that had happened to her the previous week.

I added a few things of my own from time to time.

None of us needed to talk about anything important.

It was just a normal lunch break.

And I liked it.

When classes ended, Ayaka was waiting for me outside the classroom.

"Umut."

"What is it?"

"Let's go somewhere today."

"Where?"

"Doesn't matter."

Nozomi came over as well.

"I'm in."

I looked at both of them.

"I was going to go home."

Ayaka crossed her arms.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"You're coming with us today."

Nozomi nodded.

"We haven't gone anywhere together in a while."

I thought about it for a moment.

Finally, I sighed.

"Fine."

Ayaka immediately smiled.

"Great."

The three of us left school together.

First, we went into a nearby bookstore.

Ayaka wandered between the shelves, picking up everything she saw, while Nozomi followed behind her, putting everything back where it belonged.

"Are you actually going to leave without buying anything?"

I asked.

Ayaka held up a book.

"Maybe."

"You saw that one five minutes ago."

"Making a decision takes time."

Nozomi interrupted.

"You're not making a decision."

"What am I doing?"

"Organizing books into piles."

Ayaka looked at her.

"You talk too much."

After a while, we left the bookstore.

We stopped at a small shop along the way and bought a few things.

Then we walked around the city center for a while.

Most of our conversations were about completely meaningless things.

For some reason, those were the conversations I enjoyed the most.

The sun was slowly beginning to set.

Just as we were getting ready to head back, a few drops fell from the sky.

"Is it raining?"

Ayaka looked up.

Within a few seconds, the rain became heavier.

The three of us looked around in surprise.

"Do you have an umbrella?"

Nozomi asked.

Ayaka shook her head.

"No."

They looked at me.

"I don't have one either."

We took shelter beneath the awning of a nearby shop.

Rain was falling rapidly onto the pavement.

For a while, we simply watched it in silence.

Then Nozomi turned toward me.

"Are you not going to practice the violin today?"

"No."

Ayaka immediately joined in.

"It's weird hearing you say that."

I smiled.

"Nothing will happen if I don't practice for one day."

Nozomi looked at me.

Then she smiled slightly.

"Looks like you finally learned that."

We continued listening to the sound of the rain.

At that moment, I wasn't thinking about any competition.

Any placement.

Any mistakes.

Or any upcoming performance.

I was simply there with my friends.

And for the first time in a long while, I thought that was enough.

When the rain finally started to ease, we began walking back toward the school.

Ayaka looked down at her soaked shoes several times.

"I guess I'm going home like this today."

Nozomi looked at her.

"Stop complaining."

"Your shoes are wet too."

"At least mine aren't leaking."

Ayaka stared at her in disbelief.

"How is that supposed to make me feel better?"

I couldn't help but laugh as I listened to them.

We continued walking together for a while.

Eventually, we reached the point where our paths separated.

"Let me know when you get home."

Nozomi said.

"Okay."

Ayaka raised her hand.

"See you, Umut."

"See you tomorrow."

I said goodbye to them and continued walking home.

When I got home, I went straight to my room.

My violin case was sitting beside my desk.

I looked at it for a moment.

Normally, one of the first things I did after getting home was take out my violin.

But I didn't today.

I left my bag on the bed.

Then I dropped onto it.

I hadn't practiced today.

In the past, that would have bothered me.

But this time...

"I'll practice tomorrow."

I closed my eyes.

When I arrived at school the next morning, there was an unusual amount of activity in the classroom.

Everyone was talking among themselves.

As soon as I sat down, Nozomi came over to me.

"Umut, did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"The event."

"What event?"

Nozomi looked at me in surprise.

"You really don't know anything?"

"No."

Just then, the teacher entered the classroom.

Everyone returned to their seats.

The teacher wrote something in large letters on the board.

SCHOOL CULTURAL EVENT

A murmur immediately spread through the classroom.

"Next week, the school will be holding a cultural event."

The teacher continued speaking.

"Each class will prepare its own booth and activity."

"You can start preparing from today."

Someone in the back immediately raised a hand.

"Teacher, what are we going to do?"

"That's for you to decide."

Several students started talking at once.

The teacher raised a hand.

"Calm down."

"First, you'll divide yourselves into groups."

Everyone began talking with their friends.

Nozomi immediately turned toward me.

"Let's be in the same group."

Ayaka came over as well.

"I'm in too."

"All three of us?"

"Yeah."

After a while, the teacher organized the groups.

Just as I expected, I ended up in the same group as Nozomi and Ayaka.

We gathered around our desks.

"So, what are we going to do?"

I asked.

Ayaka immediately answered.

"Food."

Nozomi shook her head.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you don't know how to cook."

"I know how to cook."

"You burned pasta last month."

"That was different."

"How was it different?"

"I overcooked it."

Nozomi rolled her eyes.

I tried not to laugh.

"Any other ideas?"

I asked.

We thought for a while.

Eventually, another student spoke up.

"We could make a café."

Everyone looked at each other.

Ayaka's eyes lit up.

"That's it."

Nozomi nodded.

"Not a bad idea."

The teacher approved the idea as well.

And so, we decided that our class would prepare a small café.

For the rest of the lesson, we divided up the responsibilities.

Some people would handle the decorations.

Others would prepare the menu.

Others would arrange the tables and chairs.

And I...

"You can make the posters."

Ayaka said.

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because you have nice handwriting."

Nozomi interrupted.

"Really?"

Ayaka looked at me.

"No."

There was a brief silence.

"Then why did you say that?"

"Because I couldn't think of another job for you."

The two of them started laughing.

In the end, I accepted the job of making the posters.