3. The Weight of The Keys

Finally, it was his moment to shine.

“So, you are playing the Rachmaninoff Prelude in G minor?” The judge asked with an intrigued sense of curiosity.

“Yes, yes I am sir”

“Rachmaninoff is a composer known for his virtuosic pieces, and yet why do you think it is that not many play his music? It is simply because his pieces require extraordinary hand size, which is why many of his pieces aren’t preferred for auditions and competitions, and yet you still choose to play his music?”

Yuuma seems to take what the judge says with an understanding and nods his head, he then begins to speak with a tone of definitive confidence.

“I understand what you are saying sir, but I believe in the idea that if someone wants to be the best that goal is only attainable by being willing to do the things that others are not.”

“Very well then, let me see this unwavering confidence in your music as well.”

Yuuma nods his head then sits on the dark cushion of the piano bench as he stretches his hands comfortably over the keys, he flicks his wrists and lowers his hands gently onto the keys preparing to perform as if his life were on the line.

As if it were horses stampeding to a battlefield, Yuuma’s first few notes seem to gallop on the keys, speaking to each other as if each note to each phrase were saying something completely different, carrying a color that coats the entire stage.

“Hey”
“How are you?”

These phrases seem to come so casually from his music, just from him starting to his slow progression to the chorus of the piece. To the audience, it seemed like the conversation had turned into an argument as the stage is painted in the illusion of a battlefield.

With the progression of the piece rising in volume, this “conversation” had seemed to turn more and more tense and it grows more powerful by every passing key. Until eventually…

It hits. The chorus hits with so much furiosity that it washes the entire stadium in a wave of power and fury. With the sounds of horses galloping, with the sounds of blood spilling and those fighting to protect their homes, with the sound that comes from every passing key it brings the audience to tears.

Then, as if all this fighting came to a stop the chorus began to diminish in sound as it slowly dropped lower and lower, until it could barely be heard. After which a beautiful and melodic melody took over, a bassline so quiet it could only ever support the determined melody line, which grew more and more ferociously in power. The fighting that had seemed to stop, had begun to start boiling again.

Until finally, as if there wasn’t enough taken from the first battle a second one had erupted. Horses galloping at the sound of warriors fighting in the tide of battle, leading into death and destruction, finally, after the dust had settled and enough was taken from the people, the fighting had finally stopped. A bright brilliant ray of sunlight began to glow through the clouds of death. Thus, came the conclusion to this story. Upon which there was a thundering applause from the audience.

Sweating, breathing heavily, and feeling completely exhausted from having foretold such a story, Yuuma stares at the ceiling, arms extended from having played so powerfully.

Yuuma slowly begins to stand up and take a bow, before slowly exiting the stage and walking down the staircase back to the abyss of the auditorium, his audience giving him praise as he carefully walks up to the judge and asks a simple question that left the audience silent.

“Do you still doubt in the beauty of the unexplored?”

“No. I do not”

The judge responds with a cold tone and fails to even gift Yuuma with solid eye contact. The response the judge had provided satisfied Yuuma’s wish and so for that he smiled and responded positively.

“Then I have done what any great pianist aspires for and for that I am grateful.”

The judge hands Yuuma the sheet music that the girl had lent him earlier and Yuuma gratefully accepts it with open arms as he begins to make his way out of the auditorium. As he is making his way out of the door he turns around smiling and decides to leave the audience his gratitude for the lending of their ears, his tone seems to shifts completely from being serious and confident to being playful and happy.

“Oh by the way, thanks y’all for listening to me perform!”

This left the audience in shock as they had not expected gratitude for listening to the music, let alone such a goofy and lighthearted remark. Thus, Yuuma left the audience completely speechless for the events that had just occurred as he left.

“Eh?!”

The audience said completely in sync as Yuuma dashed out the door grinning from ear to ear as he hummed the melody of his piece, making his way down the snowy white streets. He hoped to one day meet that girl again, and so thus begins Yuuma's journey towards becoming the greatest pianist in the world.