The Healing Life of a Music Genius - Chapter 202



Only Noblemtl

202 Deepening Music

* * *

“······ walk?”

“If you stay in your room too long, you’ll get a headache. If you breathe in some fresh air, you’ll feel refreshed. That’s why I asked.”

“······.”

Yankowski, who was talking to me, suddenly turns around.

His gaze is momentarily fixed on the empty window.

I didn’t know much about Yankovsky.

All I know is.

That he is a highly promising pianist in Russia.

That he won second place in the Tchaikovsky Competition.

and.

After the performance of ⌜Strict Variations⌟, through a conversation I had with him in the waiting room······.

It is possible to infer that Yankovsky suffered some kind of ‘loss’.

That was all I knew.

What I want to do now isn’t that great.

What did I say?

Who can easily offer words of comfort and consolation to someone’s loss?

I just needed someone to go for a walk with.

As if nothing happened.

Not that great.

That was it.

Yankowski slowly looks at me again.

Now his gaze is completely turned to me.

“······ I don’t know the way around here very well because I haven’t been around here before.”

“I know. I found a pretty cool place there yesterday. I was lucky.”

“······.”

“So what do you think?”

After thinking for a few seconds, Yankowski holds out a finger to me.

It means to ask for some time.

This was a universal language.

We walked along the forest path.

Just after 2 o’clock in the afternoon, the forest of Chapel was full of life.

Just like on a deserted island, the nameless birds were all chattering away.

The squirrels were busy looking for something to eat.

The insects moving around in the grass were making small sounds.

Things you can’t see unless you look closely.

The Forest of Chapel was more beautiful than I had expected.

When the fork in the road appeared, I turned left without hesitation.

It’s a road that I’ve become quite familiar with because I’ve been walking along it so often.

It was a shortcut to the Chapelle Palace.

I didn’t have much conversation with Yankovsky.

Trivial stories like which lunch box I had at Chapel was delicious, which musician I heard playing in the past was good, etc.

It wasn’t anything special, but it was enough.

As we reached the edge of the forest, an open space appeared and immediately caught our attention.

On top of that low hill you can see the Chateau de Chapelle, which looks like nothing more than a ruin.

Yankowski takes a deep breath and exhales.

He must have liked this scenery too.

“What a wonderful place······.”

“Right?”

“Just like you said, my head feels refreshed. I guess I didn’t really know what kind of place Chapel was because I was just staying in the room. Thank you for introducing me to this place.”

“But, you know.”

I pointed to the Chapel Castle with my finger.

“That’s where I found the ‘really cool place.’”

“······ castle?”

“yes.”

“Can I get in?”

“It doesn’t say in the guidebook that you can’t enter the castle. So I guess it’s not a violation of the rules.”

“You······are quite generous?”

“I’m basically a curious person. That’s why I just went exploring. Come with me.”

“······.”

It was quite by chance that I ended up in the Chateau de Chapelle.

Yesterday, out of a bit of curiosity(?), I was wandering around and found a small wooden door.

I pushed it gently just in case, and it opened so easily.

I was just peeking my head in and looking inside, and then I discovered something wonderful, and I couldn’t stand it anymore so I went inside the castle.

As I was telling this story to Yankovsky, we quickly arrived at the castle entrance.

Just like yesterday, I pushed the small wooden door gently.

The door opens easily with a squeaking sound.

I went into the castle first, and Yankovsky hesitated a little and then followed me.

“Surely······. You’re not going to sell me to a witch like in some fairy tale, are you?”

I answered shamelessly.

“Actually, that’s what I was going to do. I said I would pay a higher price for adults over 20.”

“······.”

“······.”

A moment later, we burst into laughter at a similar moment.

A joke that doesn’t make sense.

Still, even here at Music Chapel, conversations like this were quite entertaining.

About a quarter of the castle Chapelle had collapsed.

Strong sunlight was streaming in through there, while the remaining three-quarters were in shadow due to the castle’s ceiling.

The floor of the shaded area was decorated with colorful lights.

The reason why I came here yesterday.

Yankovsky speaks, looking alternately at the floor and the walls of the castle.

“There’s stained glass?”

“If you look closely, there’s nothing that’s in good condition. If you look over there, you’ll see that there are a lot of holes.”

When I pointed to the half-broken stained glass window, Yankowski nodded.

A very mysterious place.

We walked briskly into the castle.

I went inside, stepping on the gorgeous lights reflected from the stained glass.

Until yesterday, I was thinking, ‘Was I really this adventurous?’ But then I found out that I was a survivor who had survived on a deserted island for three and a half years.

A behavior that has already become instinctive.

Thanks to you, I was able to find the coolest stuff at Music Chapel.

Yankovsky stops walking in a daze.

Regardless, I walked to where the item was.

And then I quietly placed my hand on the wooden table.

‘I brought a friend with me today. He’s a great musician, different from me.’

Behind me, Yankovsky speaks quietly.

“Upright piano?”

“Yes. It’s an unexpected item in an unexpected place. However, the slightly disappointing thing here is······.”

I pressed a key.

Only a dull, soft sound of wood hitting the piano could be heard, and the beautiful sound that was supposed to come from the piano was not heard.

“This piano has lost its sound.”

On the deserted island, I suddenly remembered the model piano I had carved out of wood.

Before I knew it, Yankovsky was next to me.

He pressed a few keys and then shook his head.

“I think the strings are all broken. The hammer part may have broken. It looks like it can’t be repaired.”

“How long has it been like this?”

“Well, it’s probably been at least a few decades. It looks old at first glance. And it doesn’t even have a brand.”

“Poor kid.”

“Child. But doesn’t this piano look so young that you can call it ‘child’?”

“But to me, all pianos are like children. When I sit still like this, the piano starts talking to me. Chatter chatter. It’s really noisy.”

I closed my eyes briefly, my hands resting on the keyboard.

A piano that immediately pours out all the sorrow I’ve had so far.

He endlessly vents his complaints and grievances.

At that time, Yankovsky asked me.

“······ But do you really hear that sound?”

At the same time, my eyes opened.

“Yes, I can hear it. Maybe no one else can hear it.”

“······.”

“I am a person who believes that I can communicate with instruments. To me, this kind of chatter is no different from reality.”

“······.”

“And I can hear this too. By the way, Yankovsky can hear this too.”

Standing in the center of the piano without a chair, I carefully pressed the keys again.

A melody with a calm yet elegant tone.

That melody is so beautiful and lyrical that it almost brings tears to your eyes······.

I can clearly hear it in my ears.

You can feel it at your fingertips.

It rings in my head.

It seemed like I could understand how Beethoven could create music despite losing his hearing.

What you actually hear isn’t all there is to music.

I learned these facts on a deserted island.

Yankovsky, who was watching me from a couple of steps away from where I was, whispered softly.

“⌜Piano Sonata No. 33⌟······.”

I smiled.

“Look. Can you hear me clearly?”

“Yeah······. I can hear it clearly.”

“What do you think?”

“As I said in the waiting room last time······. Your music is so beautiful······.”

Jankovsky kept his eyes fixed on my hands, and I continued playing.

⌜Piano Sonata No. 33⌟ is not that long.

Originally, the song should have concluded its story in the fourth movement, but now it only has the third movement.

A song that Beethoven never completed.

I worked on completing his unfinished song to the best of my ability.

The playing time was very short.

A song that can be played in 14 minutes and 30 seconds at my playing speed.

When all the playing was over, Yankowski opened his mouth.

He spoke German with a Russian accent.

“I can’t even properly understand one person’s heart······.”

“I still don’t want to let go of what I have in my hands······.”

“Do I have a chance too······.”

An interpretation that matches me perfectly.

When I asked Yankowski if I could tell him that, he just chuckled.

“It’s funny that you, who can already play to that extent, couldn’t interpret this sentence.”

“Is that so?”

“okay.”

Jankowski went further here.

This time he said the sentence written in the last movement of ⌜String Quartet No. 16⌟.

That meant that Yankovsky also understood this work perfectly.

“Der Schwergefaste Entschluss······.”

A difficult decision.

“Who is he?”

Does it have to be that way?

There were a total of three sentences left in ⌜String Quartet No. 16⌟.

Jankovsky, who said the two sentences above first.

I tried saying the last sentence instead.

“It’s Thy Thing.”

It has to be that way.

Finally, all the puzzle pieces fit together.

Yankovsky asks me:

Is it real that I can hear the piano’s murmur and the inaudible playing?

I answered yes.

This time I ask something different.

When you say that you have something that everyone in the world says is not true.

Is that also real?

After much thought, I answered.

“Yes. To me, it is a clear existence more than anything else.”

“Then what about other people?”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s not going to live my life for me.”

“······It’s clear.”

“Just like the performance we heard clearly just a moment ago.”

“······.”

“But I think there’s something more important here. There’s Beethoven’s note that we saw in the ⌜Piano Sonata No. 33⌟.”

Yankovsky seemed to understand what I was saying.

He said exactly the sentence I was thinking of.

“······ You may not even be able to properly understand one person’s heart.”

“As a musician. As a person. I think Beethoven was truly great.”

“······.”

“We have to play his music this time.”

“······.”

Yankovsky hesitated.

But soon he stood in front of the piano.

It just happened naturally, without me suggesting it or even asking Jankovsky to play the piano himself.

Jankovsky started playing the ⌜Piano Sonata No. 33⌟ just like me.

An interpretation that is clearly different from my own.

Although I couldn’t actually hear the piano, Jankovsky’s music definitely came to me.

At first, his hands seemed to be shaking slightly, but by the second movement, they began to become quite stable.

Looking intently at the keys that Yankovsky was pressing······.

Feeling the light from the broken stained glass that had suddenly reached the tips of our feet······.

I listened to the unique music he played.

Sad yet touching.

Music that is sad and heartbreaking.

I felt that his music was trying to change, even if only a little.

After Jankovsky finished playing, I continued playing again.

After I finished playing, Jankovsky took over.

Until the sunset enters the castle walls of Chapel······.

We created a piece with a broken piano.

.

.

.

You may not even be able to properly understand one person’s heart.

Because I still don’t want to let go of what I have in my hands.

Do I have a chance too?

A difficult decision.

Does it have to be that way?

It has to be that way.

When Beethoven’s nephew, Karl, whom he loved his entire life, attempted suicide with a pistol.

He was composing String Quartet No. 16.

and.

He was also composing ⌜Piano Sonata No. 33⌟, which is a sibling work of ⌜String Quartet No. 16⌟.

At that time, Beethoven’s rough feelings······.

It has been passed down to the musicians of Music Chapel over a long period of time.

In the castle of Chapelle, which has already collapsed and is no longer functioning.

In a melody that only they can hear.

Making music silently with a broken piano.

As a musician.

As a pianist.

They wanted to be independent.