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Section 1
## About This Work
For personal study and exchange only. Commercial use is prohibited. Please delete within 24 hours of downloading. LK accepts no responsibility. When reposting, please include the above notice and respect the translator's hard work.
## Prologue
The sunset burned like fire, and that fierce red light dyed Azusa's vision crimson. She lifted her head and saw the moon's clear white light dissolving into the dark-blue sky. The murmur of the Uji River broke the silence. The friend before her watched Azusa with a faintly troubled look, her tea-brown hair stirring lightly.
"Kumiko, why didn't you go to Minami Uji High School?"
At Azusa's question, a flicker of unease passed through Kumiko Oumae's eyes. Azusa watched in silence as the matcha ice cream in Kumiko's hand melted and dripped onto the riverbank.
"I was going to ask why you thought I would go to Minami Uji."
Kumiko's tone was a little heavier than usual. A wind that still carried a chill, even in May, blew between them. Azusa paid no mind to her skirt lifting in the breeze and walked on, step by step.
"Because most of the people from Kita Junior High go to Minami Uji. I thought you had too."
She stopped and looked at Kumiko. Kumiko had always had a habit: when she wanted to brush something aside, she would lower her brows just a little, as if troubled, let the corners of her mouth relax, and put on a smile.
"There are a lot of things that go into choosing a school. Grades, how far it is from home, that sort of thing."
"But Minami Uji is closer to your house, and your grades are about the same."
"Well, maybe."
After that single line, Kumiko closed her mouth.
Had she said too much? Azusa dropped her gaze to Kumiko's chest. A vivid aqua jacket, a composed, steady pleated skirt, and the white shirt glimpsed beneath the jacket, with something just tied near the collar... (Content failed to load! Please refresh or switch browsers.)
## Chapter 1: The Marching Contest Runs Wild
Eighty people, doing something as simple as stepping out at the same angle, the same time, the same direction. Done in unison, it carries real force. Azusa leaned forward, rising a little off her chair. One more year. One more year and she would be one of them. She gripped the program tight, drew a deep breath, gathered her strength in her core, and swung her feet where they hung in the air. Even so she could not hold her feelings down, so she pressed her lips shut to keep from laughing out loud.
The dresses flared and danced, and that brilliant aqua filled her view. Girls everywhere were cheering at the top of their lungs. Golden instruments turned as one toward the same direction. A girl with an aqua flag stepped out in a bright, lively stride. The drums rumbled low and played a familiar melody. Everyone's anticipation burst at once, and a sigh of excitement swept the whole venue in an instant.
Then, after a silence placed there on purpose, the sound exploded from the horns. The melody was a piece everyone knew by heart: "Sing, Sing, Sing," Rikka High School's specialty. The girls smiled as they danced, and the fierce steps never stole those smiles away. White thighs flashing from beneath flipping skirts stood in sharp contrast to black knee-high socks. Every motion struck the eye.
Not a step out of place. It was a difficult routine worthy of a powerhouse school, and they made those difficult moves look easy.
"The aqua demons, all right."
Who had let that slip?
"HI!"
With that cry as the final mark, their performance ended... (Content failed to load! Please refresh or switch browsers.)
## Chapter 2: A Glance Back in Memory
After that, the first-years spent nearly all their time on footwork. After-school practice, practice on days off, they stared at their notebooks and repeated the same movements over and over.
When the motions were finally carved into her head, and her body could move without her having to think, Azusa slowly became able to play and move at the same time.
"Wow, Azusa, you're amazing. You can already do it?"
The Monday after that, after school, the first-year trombones practiced in the space under the courtyard. Amaha watched Azusa and kept sighing in admiration. Azusa felt awkwardly shy under praise that sincere.
Today's method was to take turns, one person checking everyone else's form, and letting everyone check her own. The assignment Mirai had given them was for the four first-years to move in unison when they marched.
"You don't have to play yet. Just get the movement together. When you feel ready, come find me."
At Rikka, the custom was for upperclassmen to set assignments for their juniors, sometimes for one person, sometimes, like this, for the group. If you could clear those assignments one by one, you would have the strength you needed by the time of the contest.
Azusa set her trombone and blew hard into it. Out came a glissando with the force of an elephant. She casually played a phrase from the piece for the next contest, and Amaha clapped.
A trombone changes pitch by moving the slide, and a glissando that can slide without steps is one of the instrument's charms.
"Haa. Having to play even on break is exhausting."
Shiho sat down on the ground, looking worn out. ... (Content failed to load! Please refresh or switch browsers.)
## Chapter 3: A Tense Glide Step
The first thing written on the summer schedule was four simple characters: school camp. After the closing ceremony, summer break officially began. The first week still had the nuisance of makeup classes, but after that week they were completely free. For the wind band, though, words like rest had nothing to do with them.
Azusa packed while watching herself in the full-length mirror in her room. A colorful box was stuffed with all kinds of underwear, and she picked one at random. Her mother had reminded her to wear a bra that suited her chest, but Azusa did not care much about that. The bra she had bought in third year of junior high no longer fit. It had white gathers down the middle and a little dark-blue ribbon, and she had rather liked that one. She pouted, displeased, and put on a sports bra.
Azusa's chest was larger than the other girls', and that had always been a source of insecurity, so she did not much like her figure. When she moved, her chest got in the way. During Rikka's marching especially, the way it bounced up and down was a real nuisance.
"Kumiko has it easy."
Kumiko's face rose in her mind. Kumiko was slim. Even in uniform, she never had to worry about the swell of her chest ruining the design of the formation.
Azusa pulled on her gym shorts, then a yellow T-shirt over the sports bra. She twisted her upper body and found the shirt a little short. A bit of the pink bra showed. She picked up a comb and, with rough strokes, dragged her sleep-mussed hair into order. She pressed down the bits that sprang up... (Content failed to load! Please refresh or switch browsers.)
## Final Chapter
"That was really something. I don't watch much wind band, but hearing it live, the impact is completely different."
"Right? We never go to concerts otherwise. If it weren't for Amaha, we wouldn't have had a chance to come to a place like this."
"Exactly. Good thing Amaha joined the band. There have been a lot more happy things since then."
In the car, Amaha's parents talked excitedly about the concert they had just heard. Azusa's instrument case rested on her lap, and her eyes were on the window. Outside it was fully dark. She could see a crescent moon. Across the highway the traffic was a hopeless tangle, and the long line of cars did not move an inch. Red brake lights flashed everywhere.
"I'm so glad we got to go to Kansai."
Amaha, beside her, said it happily. Faced with that straightforward blessing, Azusa scratched her head, embarrassed.
"I never thought the concert band would get to Kansai. But it feels good that the practice paid off."
"You played well. Everyone's saying Rikka sounded good this year."
"That's enough, then. When I was playing I used everything I had. I didn't have any room left to think about how I sounded."
"The piece is hard, after all. Just looking at the score made my head hurt."
Seeing Amaha's pained face, Azusa laughed. Talking with Amaha made her mood improve before she noticed, because she did not have to worry so much. Excellent upperclassmen and close friends alike held some jealousy toward Azusa. That hostility, fangs usually tucked away, would bare sharp lips and teeth at certain moments. With Amaha she did not have to worry about that. As a beginner, Amaha did not see Azusa as a rival. The things she said were all... (Content failed to load! Please refresh or switch browsers.)
## About This Work
For personal study and exchange only. Commercial use is prohibited. Please delete within 24 hours of downloading. LK accepts no responsibility. When reposting, please include the above notice and respect the translator's hard work.
## Prologue
She stuffed her books into her bag and checked the timetable once more. Japanese, math, PE, social studies, music. Of those five periods, only math had homework. She looked over the handouts clipped in her folder, confirmed they were all filled in, and shoved her tape recorder into the bag.
In elementary school Azusa had liked school days. She had lots of friends there, and lots of things to play with. Summer vacation, by contrast, she did not like much. So much time, and she never knew what to do with it.
During summer her friends all went out with their families, while Azusa lived with only her mother. Her mother was busy with work all day, so Azusa had no choice but to stay home the whole break. In third grade she had tried to go to daycare too, but the numbers were limited and in the end she could not.
She flipped through her books again to see if she had forgotten anything. The bag she had bought at the start of the term was fraying at the corners. It looked like time for a new one. Incidentally, the bag was a style that combined a school bag and a handbag, made of nylon, not expensive. Most of the elementary schools in Uji used this kind.
Azusa hugged the bag and rose onto her toes so her mother could check whether anything was missing. At the Sasaki house, this check of tomorrow's preparations happened every day. She pushed open the living-room door and saw the coiled telephone cord trembling. She heard her mother talking to someone. Azusa walked over quietly so she would not disturb her.
"Still, leaving a child home alone worries me... Luckily Azusa is mature. Mm. But doing this the whole summer is hard to bear. She's still little, after all."
Her mother was chatting with a friend and had not noticed her. Her voice was louder than usual... (Content failed to load! Please refresh or switch browsers.)
## Chapter 1: The Steps of a Delusion
"Here. This one's Azusa's."
What was handed over was a fairly heavy stack of paper. Large squares were printed on it, filled with a grid. The bottom of the sheet said "front," the top said "back," and after that came each person's standing assignment. In the blank space outside the square, the four characters of Sasaki Azusa were written. Shiori tapped the page with a finger.
"This trombone 2 is you. This is the official version of the one I showed you before."
"Yes."
"Practice starts at nine. Look it over roughly first."
With that, Shiori strode off toward the others. This paper, which a marching show had to follow, with each person's position drawn according to the music, was what they called a dot sheet. Azusa turned the pages and confirmed her spot. Ten trombones took the field. There were thirteen trombones now, so someone would have to be an alternate. She turned another page and let out a quiet sigh.
Past August the temperature kept climbing. Azusa wiped the sweat from her forehead with her clothes. The gym at the camp site was even bigger than the school gym. From the corridor connecting to the entrance, a noisy clamor drew nearer.
"I was really shocked when I heard a school going to the wind-band contest in Kansai."
"Who would have thought it would be Kitauji? Rakushuu I could understand."
"I had the great Kanon figured out completely. At Sunfes, the moment I heard them I knew this year they weren't simple."
"Oh."
"Don't brush me off. Listen properly... Oh, morning, Azusa."
The one waving with full energy was Kanon.
"Good morning, Azusa."
Beside her was her younger sister, Mine. Kanon played flute. Mine played oboe. In their hands they held a rolled-up... (Content failed to load! Please refresh or switch browsers.)
## Chapter 2: A Moment at Parade Rest
The day after the off-campus camp was a major cleaning. The places to clean were the rooms they used all the time: the music room, the instrument room, the art room, and the calligraphy room. The first-years were in charge of the art room and the instrument room. Azusa was assigned to the instrument room.
"Whoa. It's all dust."
The moment the door opened, Kanon's face soured. The air inside poured out through the crack. They had clearly shut the door during the off-campus camp, and yet there was a surprising amount of dust.
"Ah. We're going to have to sweep this properly."
Mine did not look much better. She held a folder. On the paper was a list of instruments and supplies, and they had to check that list for missing items and deal with things whose owners were unknown. They carried the instruments into the corridor and emptied the racks. With a hundred and thirty members, there was no shortage of instruments. Just hauling out ten tubas was enough to take a layer of skin off you.
"We're off tomorrow. Mine, got any plans?"
Kanon asked while wiping the floor with a cloth. Mine, unusually, was wearing black-framed glasses. She paused in counting mutes (mutes; these also appeared at the end of the previous part, in case anyone noticed) and said,
"What plans could I have? Aren't we going to Grandma's? Visit the grave, come back, and then it's practice again."
"Figures. Aah, I was hoping to play my heart out."
"Too bad, nothing we can do. And Kanon, you haven't finished your homework, have you? Don't even think about playing."
"Don't talk about homework!"
Kanon stuck out her tongue, then looked at Azusa.
"Azusa, did you finish your homework too?"
"Mm. Leaving it would nag at me, so I finished it a long time ago."
"Don't be like that, you traitor!"
Seeing Kanon act spoiled and puff out her cheeks... (Content failed to load! Please refresh or switch browsers.)
## Chapter 3: An Unconscious Chest Forward
Since that school trip, Azusa and Seri had gradually drawn closer, and they went home together too. Seri was not in a club, so she would read in the classroom and wait for Azusa's band practice to end. Every time Azusa slid the classroom door open and saw her lift her head at once and smile at her, a satisfaction hard to put into words welled up. Only Azusa knew a side of Seri that no one else knew. That alone made something itch in her chest.
"You're early today."
"Mm. Today was just a meeting."
"I see."
Seri put on a look of not caring and quietly closed her book. The earphones hanging from the hook on her desk had a slightly odd design. Azusa set her bag on a desk and sat in the seat in front of Seri.
"Where's your instrument?"
"I'm leaving it here today."
"Oh."
Seri put the things on her desk into her bag in order. Books, pencil case, phone. The little bag filled up at once, and there was not enough space left for the books.
"Oh, right. Sasaki, your bangs are so short."
"If they're too long they cover the music. Shorter is easier."
"You cut them yourself?"
"Mm. They grow back fast."
"Mm."
Seri reached out and touched Azusa's bangs. Azusa's eyebrows itched.
"Maybe I'll cut mine too."
"Uh."
Hearing Seri mutter to herself, Azusa was startled. Seri puffed her cheeks in a "got a problem with that?" way. Seri showing an expression this lively was a recent thing.
"Because long bangs are the real Seri?"
"But they get in the way when I read."
At the question that slipped out of her, Azusa's hand stopped. A few strands of hair clung to Seri's pale skin... (Content failed to load! Please refresh or switch browsers.)
## Chapter 4: The Rising Sound of Youth
The calendar had already reached October. The national marching championship was in late November. Less than two months remained, and in that time they had to raise their level again. Right now everyone was meeting in the music room.
"Only two months until nationals, and if we want gold there, the old way of just throwing time at it won't work. We have to play to our strengths and avoid our weaknesses, shore up the shortfalls, and show what we're good at."
The third-years agreed with Minami with both hands. After the Kansai competition there had been a station concert (see season two of the anime). After that concert ended, the practice schedule was handed out, with the practice plan written in detail.
"Having seen the other schools, I think you understand very well that Rikka's movement is quite intense. In practice I've brought up the angle of the hands, the steps, those movement issues countless times. In terms of movement we were still a little short at the Kyoto competition, but at Kansai I think we were already quite good. During 'Sing' the movement was crisp and clean. Looking back at the video, there's nothing to criticize."
Praise from Minami was rare. The first-years flushed with excitement, while the second- and third-years braced themselves for what she would say next. Minami flicked the paper. Her expression was stern.
"Next we have to deal with the playing. I think everyone already knows it in their hearts."
The upperclassmen's faces were not pretty. A marching show is made of movement and playing, and Rikka's emphasis was on the movement. Because how fierce the movement is and how high the playing standard is pull against each other, Rikka's only shortcoming now was the playing.
"Perfect movement alone can... (Content failed to load! Please refresh or switch browsers.)
## Final Chapter
Past the school gate, a long downhill road lay ahead. From the music carried on the wind, she could tell someone was still practicing. Azusa pursed her lips and let her breath out all at once. White vapor drifted up through the winter air.
"Retiring today. It's a little lonely."
Amaha, beside her, looked up and said it.
"Mm. It hits pretty deep."
"Hehe. The road here wasn't easy. You worked hard."
Whenever Amaha laughed like that, a puff of white rose by her mouth. The cold wind had reddened her face. Under Momoka's influence, Amaha now tied her hair in two bundles too. The style suited her cute face.
"Good thing the marching show took gold at nationals this year. After everything that happened before, everyone was on edge."
"A soloist carries a heavy responsibility."
"Haha. I could tell you were nervous, Azusa."
Azusa's right hand carried the black instrument case as always. Together with the trombone inside it, she had taken gold at the national contest. Deeply moved, she ran her hand over the case's uneven surface.
"—President Azusa."
At the voice, Azusa turned. A first-year from the trombone section was running this way. She seemed to be in a hurry. She was out of breath. Azusa, unsure what had happened, asked,
"Erika, what's wrong?"
Erika, like Azusa, was from Kita Junior High. Her lively personality resembled Mirai, who had graduated two years ago, in some ways. Erika pressed a hand to her chest and caught her breath. Amaha poked Azusa in the side.
"Azusa, you really are popular."
"You're only noticing now?"
After the joke with Amaha, Erika finally got her breath back... (Content failed to load! Please refresh or switch browsers.)