Maybe she'd heard that name before... on a cultural program, or in an award ceremony interview... but she couldn't immediately place a face to it.
After all, for Touma Youko, everything outside the world of music was just meaningless background noise.
"Fujiwara-san," she said, pushing the thought aside and focusing on what truly intrigued her. "Forgive me for being blunt, but your piano technique is astounding. May I ask who your teacher was? Perhaps… a student of the Russian school... someone from the Neuhaus lineage? Or maybe a successor of the German-Austrian master Kempff?"
In her mind, anyone capable of producing such a performance had to have been taught by a legendary name in piano history.
"I don't have a teacher," Seiji replied simply.
"What?" Youko froze for a moment.
"No teacher? Impossible!"
Her heart shook even harder than it had when she'd heard him play.
Modern piano is a discipline refined over centuries... a deeply structured art built upon generations of accumulated wisdom. Every motion, every fingering, every subtle pedal use... each came from the knowledge of countless masters.
Self-taught?
One could maybe learn a few pop tunes that way. But to reach the level of mastery she'd just witnessed? Absolutely impossible... unless...
Unless he himself was a once-in-a-century genius... someone on the same level as Mozart or Liszt.
That thought made Youko's gaze shift.
It was no longer simple curiosity... it was recognition. The kind that only one prodigy could feel for another.
She herself had been called a genius. So she knew better than anyone what that word really meant... the loneliness, the alienation, the way ordinary people could never understand you.
And now, she had met another one.
"Fujiwara-san seems quite fond of Fazioli pianos," Youko said, changing the topic slightly, hoping to learn more about him through conversation. "Its tone is indeed clear and bright, but because of that, it demands absolute control. A single mistake can make it sound thin and harsh."
"I just like how honest it is," Seiji said calmly. "It reflects exactly what I want to express... whether strength or softness."
"Honest…" Youko repeated softly, understanding flickering in her eyes.
The two of them drifted into conversation... an exchange that sounded almost esoteric to anyone else listening.
They talked about the craftsmanship of Italian pianos, the philosophical depth of German classical music, the hazy harmonies of French impressionism, the passionate rhythm of Argentine tango…
No matter how obscure or technical the subject, Seiji responded with ease.
His vast knowledge and extraordinary artistic sense shattered Youko's expectations again and again.
She found herself feeling like a student before him.
All the expertise she'd taken pride in suddenly felt shallow.
He stood at a higher plane... overlooking the entire river of musical history, understanding every genre, every composer, every school of thought as though he had lived through them himself.
What a terrifying young man, Youko thought.
And for the first time, a strange idea surfaced... one she'd never had before.
Maybe… maybe her daughter Kazusa should meet this boy.
Kazusa's withdrawn personality left her with no real friends besides the piano. But if she met someone her age who could truly understand her through music, maybe... just maybe... it would help open her heart.
At that moment, Manager Tanaka hurried over, his face plastered with a nervous smile.
"Fujiwara-san! Touma-san! Forgive me for interrupting!" He bowed deeply. "The replacement parts for the Fazioli have been installed. Would you like to test it again?"
Seiji nodded and returned to the now-restored piano.
He sat down, placed his hands on the keys, and played a few chords and scales, testing the feel and tone.
Clear. Bright. Perfect.
Touma Youko joined him, watching his focused profile... and the thought that had taken root earlier only grew stronger.
After a moment, she asked hesitantly, "Fujiwara-san, may I ask… could you play another piece? I'd like to record it on my phone, if that's all right."
Her request drew the attention of the nearby crowd.
"Yes! Please, sir, one more piece!"
"I was so mesmerized earlier I forgot to record it... please, just one more!"
Under their eager gazes, Seiji chuckled softly.
"Sure."
After all, this life... this second chance... was meant to be enjoyed.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, then began.
What flowed from his fingers this time was no longer wild and passionate, but gentle, dreamy, and tender.
Liszt's "Liebesträume No. 3."
If "Gypsy Rondo" had shown his power, this piece revealed his warmth.
The melody was like a lover's whisper, like moonlight wrapped around an embrace... overflowing with love and longing.
The audience was completely entranced.
The elegant woman from earlier felt her eyes grow misty. The music reminded her of a first love long past... painful, beautiful, and forever unfinished.
Manager Tanaka stood frozen, as if hypnotized. This performance outshone every concert he had ever attended.
Touma Youko quietly recorded the scene, her heart rippling as the pure emotion of "love" filled the air. For the first time in years, she felt something inside her being gently stirred.
When the final note faded, silence blanketed the room... then erupted into thunderous applause.
Seiji stood, waved casually to the crowd, then walked toward Touma Youko.
"Add me on LINE," he said, pulling out his phone. "Send me the video later."
"Y-yes, of course!" Youko said, snapping out of her daze and fumbling for her phone. They exchanged contacts. "I'll send it right away."
"Good."
Seiji pocketed his phone, gave a faint smile, and left the piano hall under everyone's awestruck gaze.
Later, in the car back to her hotel, Touma Youko still couldn't calm down.
She opened the video she had recorded, and the more she watched, the more astonished she felt.
Without hesitation, she opened another chat and sent it to her daughter... Touma Kazusa.
Along with a short message:
[Kazusa, I met an incredibly talented young man in Ginza today. Take a look.]
In a small apartment far away, Touma Kazusa sat at her piano, wearing loose pajamas and messy black hair, lazily practicing scales.
"Boring piece…" she muttered under her breath.
Her phone chimed.
She glanced at it... it was a message from her mother, who she rarely saw in person. She almost ignored it… until the words "incredibly talented young man" caught her attention.
"Talented, huh?" she scoffed. "For her to call someone talented, he must be pretty damn good."
With a mix of annoyance and curiosity, she opened the video.
The familiar, tender melody of "Liebesträume" filled the room.
At first, her expression was indifferent.
Then it changed... to surprise, to disbelief, to complete shock.
She stood abruptly, leaning close to the screen, eyes wide.
"Th-this is…"
The flawless technique, the emotion that poured from every note... it overwhelmed her.
She instinctively compared his playing to her own.
And the result made her chest tighten.
She had lost.
Completely.
Then she noticed the boy's side profile on the screen... it looked oddly familiar.
"Wait… that's…!"
She rushed to her computer, typing rapidly into the search bar.
Moments later, an image popped up... from a literary award ceremony.
"It really is him! The youngest winner of the Rampo and Naoki Prizes... Seiji Fujiwara!"
Kazusa's jaw dropped. "I can't believe it… Fujiwara-san... the author... is that good at piano too?!"
She adored his novels, even owning every signed edition. To her, Seiji was a genius in literature, much like she was in music.
But she'd never imagined that the literary genius was also a musical one.
She grabbed her phone and frantically typed a message to her mother:
[Mom! That's Seiji Fujiwara! The author! Is he still there?! I need his autograph!!!]
In the car, Touma Youko smiled faintly at her daughter's string of exclamation marks, finally remembering Fujiwara's other identity.
She sighed in mild regret... she hadn't recognized him sooner.
[He's already left. But I have his LINE. You'll have another chance.]
Then she hesitated a moment before forwarding his LINE contact.
[If you can't wait, add him yourself.]
In her Vienna apartment, Kazusa stared at the screen, frozen.
Her face flushed crimson.
Add him? Add my idol as a friend?
Would that be too forward?
Would he even accept?
And if he did… what would she say?
Her heart... usually calm except when playing piano... was now racing uncontrollably.
After a long struggle, she finally gave in to temptation.
Her trembling hand pressed "Send Friend Request."
Meanwhile, Seiji was browsing another instrument shop in Ginza, idly admiring an expensive Stradivarius violin.
His phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen... a friend request from someone named "Kazusa Touma," with a note from Youko attached:
[This is my daughter, Kazusa. She's a fan of your books.]
Seiji chuckled.
"Touma Kazusa, huh… now this is getting interesting."
He knew well what kind of girl she was... a black-haired beauty as gifted as her mother.
Still, there was no rush.
He accepted the request and sent a short message:
[Hello.]
Then he slipped the phone back into his pocket and moved on.
On the other side of the world, Kazusa clutched her phone tightly, pacing her room in circles after receiving that single word.
She had no idea how to reply... but her heart wouldn't stop pounding.
At the Starry live house office, the air was heavy.
Ijichi Seika stared at the "Final Notice: Commercial Property Reclamation" sheet, ruffling her short blonde hair in frustration.
"PA-san… I think this time it's really over." Her voice trembled. "The 917 compensation isn't even enough to relocate and renovate. And there's still six months left on the lease… the breach penalty and the bank loan, I... "
"It's okay," PA-san sighed softly, pushing a cup of coffee toward her.
Her usual laid-back demeanor was gone, replaced by grim seriousness.
"Seika, you've been carrying this alone for too long." Her voice was gentle but firm. "You can't keep this from Nijika any longer. She deserves to know what's happening with her family."
"No!" Seika's response was instant. "Nijika's band is finally taking off! I can't distract her now... I won't!"
Neither of them noticed that the office door hadn't been fully shut.
Just outside, a small figure trembled, her hand covering her mouth.
Ijichi Nijika's expression was frozen in shock.
She had only come to bring her sister and PA-san some snacks... but what she overheard was a nightmare.
"Debt." "Bankruptcy." "Penalty."
Each word hit like ice water.
She didn't know how long she stood there before PA-san's footsteps inside jolted her back to reality. Panicked, she turned and ran.
Inside, PA-san paused by the door.
Her eyes fell on a faint shoe print near the frame.
"…Nijika?" she murmured, crouching down.
A long sigh escaped her lips.
All their efforts to protect Nijika's dream... and yet, she'd found out in the worst possible way.
At that same time, Seiji was driving through Tokyo with Kikuri Hiroi in the passenger seat.
He'd just rented her a new apartment and was now taking her to meet a well-known therapist in Narita who specialized in addiction recovery.
"Seiji, you really don't have to go this far," Kikuri muttered nervously, fidgeting with her sleeves. "I can handle it myself…"
"Really?" Seiji shot her a sideways look, half amused. "Then what about the half-empty bottle of sake you hid under the bed last night?"
Kikuri's face turned crimson. She couldn't say a word.
Seiji just chuckled and let it go, pulling out his phone to open another chat.
He typed a message to Shimizu Eliza:
[Where's today's photo? The cosplay one.]
Seconds later, her reply came... just a single character:
[.]
Seiji's grin widened. He could almost picture the flustered blonde on the other end, fuming yet helpless.