At that moment, in Inazuma.
The orange-red sun, on the verge of sinking beneath the horizon, made one last valiant effort to cast its light across the world.
A gentle, meandering breeze swept through.
Twilight drew its curtain. In the solitude of dusk, the stars rose in the east, and the whole of Narukami Island gradually sank into stillness.
Inazuma City had lit its lanterns — yet the streets were strangely sparse. Even the street vendors were fewer than usual.
Inside a teahouse across from Yae Publishing House, a small cluster of people sat together, each absorbed in the book in their hands. Then, abruptly, one of the young men set his book down and stretched lazily.
"What a feast for the mind," he sighed in admiration, closing the volume — its cover reading Writing Novels in Inazuma. "That was brilliantly written. This is what reading a novel is supposed to feel like. And look how late it's gotten — I should head home for dinner."
He had spent many consecutive days working through other genres to heal the wounds left on his soul by The Eternal and Your Lie in April. He had finally, finally recovered.
He nodded to himself, stood up, and glanced around — then his brow furrowed. Something was off.
Why were there so few people on the streets today?
This teahouse, with its reasonable prices and convenient location near Yae Publishing House, was normally packed nearly to capacity at this hour. Yet today, only a handful of people were here.
"What in the world is going on?" he muttered, a flicker of unease crossing his face. He swallowed hard.
A faint memory surfaced. He vaguely recalled a book he'd read some time ago — one where the Lord of a Hundred Demons had launched an assault on Tenshukaku in Inazuma City during the witching hour, leading a horde of ghost-monsters in an attack. Under that onslaught, the citizens of Inazuma City had been devoured almost instantly. Even the Raiden Shogun herself had been pushed into a desperate, brutal fight against the Lord of the Hundred Demons, ultimately suffering serious injuries — until Lady Guuji Yae arrived and, by herself alone, slew the demon lord outright.
That book had its share of problems, of course. For instance: how could the Lord of a Hundred Demons, who even the Raiden Shogun couldn't defeat, be cut down by Lady Guuji Yae just like that?
But that wasn't the point. The point was this: that story had opened with a reader — sitting in a teahouse, reading a book, stopping halfway through to go home for dinner, standing up, and finding the streets suspiciously empty. And that reader, after noting aloud how quiet everything seemed, had been immediately devoured by a ghost.
Just as the cold sweat of panic was beginning to prickle at his skin, the bald reader in strange attire sitting across from him shot to his feet with an expression of equal alarm.
"Something terrible has happened!"
"What's happened?!" the young man asked, gulping.
Had something truly gone wrong?
"The Your Lie in April themed music competition — I think it's already started! I completely lost track of time reading!"
"Hiss — I forgot all about that. No wonder the streets are so empty."
The young man's relief was instant and profound.
"I've got to go now — there might still be time. Brother, are you coming? It's the finals today. Lady Guuji Yae herself will be attending."
"Sure."
The young man gave a nod.
The two of them hurried toward Tenshukaku. By the time they arrived, the Your Lie in April themed music competition had already begun.
In the vast square before Tenshukaku, people were packed in dense, orderly rows. Over a hundred soldiers of the Tenryou Commission patrolled the perimeter, maintaining order. The crowd was hushed and still.
From the center of the throng — from the stage around which the audience had gathered — the sound of a girl playing the harp rippled outward in all directions.
One couldn't say exactly how, but the judging panel seated on stage — with Lady Yae Miko presiding — seemed to have done something to carry the sound. Even from this distance, every note of the girl's harp rang out with perfect clarity.
Soft. Unhurried. Light.
The young man stood there, rapt, listening — and before his eyes, as if carried on the breeze, cherry blossoms began to drift and swirl in a cascade of pink. On a boulevard lined with cherry trees, a girl turned to a boy with a bright, radiant smile.
Friend A.
Just as that gentle melody reached its peak, the girl's fingers came to an abrupt halt — as though a string had snapped.
A murmur of confusion rippled through the crowd.
Then a sorrowful melody began.
The bright, blooming image dissolved. In its place: a rooftop blanketed in heavy snow. A girl, pouring out her heart to a boy. Encouraging him, imploring him — never give up.
The sorrow of the music flowed to its very depths — and then, slowly, it turned. Grief gave way to release. Acceptance. Peace.
The final note faded.
The young man's eyes were already wet with tears. Many in the audience were openly weeping — and then, an eruption of fierce, thunderous applause broke over the square.
"Traveler, Paimon, and the young lady from the Kamisato family — what do you think?"
Yae Miko asked, her voice carrying that familiar note of playful composure.
"She played beautifully — I was crying," Paimon said, dabbing at the tears on her little face. "Venti was right. Music really does have the power to reach straight into your heart."
"Part of that power comes from Miss Fang Qiu's book as well," Kamisato Ayaka said, wiping her own tears. "While I listened to her play, every image that came to mind was from Your Lie in April. And yet — that a piece of music can resonate so deeply with Your Lie in April already proves its excellence."
"Mm."
Lumine gave a quiet nod.
"Then — let's give our scores."
As she spoke, Yae Miko turned her gaze toward the terrace of Tenshukaku. Her long, narrow eyes narrowed slightly, and a trace of amusement curved her lips.
Yae Miko gave seven points. Paimon gave nine. Kamisato Ayaka and Lumine both gave eight.
The girl on stage let out a long breath of relief, bowed to the audience and to the judges, then turned and stepped down from the stage.
Immediately after, the next competitor took the stage — a young woman of gentle, graceful bearing, who raised a flute to her lips and began to play.
---
The Shogunate. Tenshukaku.
Pristine moonlight spilled through the open windows from outside. A purple-haired woman sat upright at a writing desk, perfectly still.
She wore a violet kimono embroidered with gentian blossoms, and a black-and-gold pauldron rested on her left shoulder. Her dark purple hair was braided into a long plait that fell down her back — the color fading lighter toward the ends. Beneath her right eye sat a single tear-shaped mole, lending her a faint air of fragility and quiet intelligence.
Yet her features were cold and severe, adding to her bearing an impression of solemnity and remote distance.
Her eyes were gently closed, as though she were deep in meditation. With each slow, even breath, her full chest rose and fell with subtle grace.
Then a gust of wind drifted through — carrying with it the faint strains of a sorrowful melody.
"Mm?"
She opened her eyes. The violet pupils held no emotion whatsoever — and then, gradually, that cold indifference softened into something quieter. Gentler.
She rose and opened the door.
On the terrace beyond the door, a short-haired woman stood gazing out at the square below.
"Kujou — what is this?"
Ei walked to Kujou Sara's side and asked.
"Shogun Almighty."
Kujou Sara had been staring down at the stage in front of Tenshukaku with a grim expression. At the sound of Ei's voice, her face shifted instantly — she turned and dropped into a bow.
"There is no need for formality. What is going on?"
Ei looked toward the stage before Tenshukaku. On it, the graceful young woman was playing her flute.
"In reply to the Shogun Almighty: this is a music competition hosted by Lady Guuji, themed around Your Lie in April," Kujou Sara said. "I did everything in my power to stop it — but I'm afraid..."
"It is of no matter."
Ei's expression remained composed. She turned her gaze toward the stage, and a faint note of puzzlement entered her voice.
"Your Lie in April? What is that?"
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