Reincarnated Into Anime World - Chapter 59

“Well, it was nice meeting you. My invitees and I will be going for lunch first. After all, we don’t want to play on an empty stomach, do we?” Suzuki smiled as he turned towards Yori and said.

“Of course. I will not disturb you any longer. We will meet again, but I’ll just say this now: good luck to you and both of your invitees.”

“Thank you, and good luck to all three of you as well.”

Without anything left to be said, Suzuki, Maruno, and I left the waiting room.

“In just under two hours, we will be playing on stage. How are you guys feeling?”

“Anticipated. I’m feeling anticipated and nostalgic. I never said this, but thank you for allowing me to have a spot for one of your two invitations, Suzuki-san.”

“You’re welcome. How about you, Uesugi-kun? How do you feel?”

“Excited. I really want to find out how high the standards here are compared to Towa Hall.”

“Then I’ll think you will have a great time. Remember, don’t stress, don’t burden yourself too much. Play to your very best. And if that ‘very best’ has been reached, then overcome it.”

That makes no sense, but sure. I’ll listen to the professional’s cryptic advice.

“What do you guys want to eat for lunch?”

I think the food should have tasted delicious, but I wasn’t sure. After all, I don’t think I noticed it beforehand with all the extra anticipation and excitement, but I was also slightly nervous about the competition that my mind wasn’t focusing on the food.

Even if I have the best system’s help, in the end, it was still only my second time performing in front of an audience (not including my circle of friends). And everyone is bound to be nervous during their first few times of doing something new. Not to mention how prestigious this competition is supposed to be.

“Sigh…I’m really not used to it.”

When there’s nothing to lose except for my shame, then I’ll be able to perform my very best, like in the competition at Towa Hall. I entered that competition mainly for Kaori, not for fame or the money reward.

But here? I need to win for the money. After all, we weren’t talking about some ten thousand yen. It was 2.6 million yen, enough for my family to live comfortably for about half a year to a year without any work. And maybe we can finally get hot water straight from the tap without needing to manually heat it up beforehand.

“Come on, Uesugi. Why have such a serious expression on your face?” Maruno patted my shoulder, “This is a competition of a lifetime. So let’s have more fun, shall we?”

“You’re right.” Lightly tapping my cheeks to prepare myself, I looked at the clock in the waiting room.

11.40 pm. The competition was running slightly behind schedule, and due to the sheer number of people here, the competition was fierce.

We had already changed to our formal dress for the performance. It wasn’t anything fancy; it was similar to what I wore at Towa Hall, only bigger since I had already outgrown it.

Suzuki thought it would be good to hear and judge the other competitors, so we had already listened to a few people play before returning to the waiting room.

As expected, the average level here is incredible. Most of the competitors were a.d.u.l.ts in their thirties, while some were in their forties. Only a few young a.d.u.l.ts in their twenties, like Maruno, was present, and there were absolutely zero people my age.

“Alright, people. The time now is 12.30 pm. I know that the competition is running a bit late, but it doesn’t change the fact that all of you will be playing today.”

The same man who came inside and talked to us before lunch reappeared before us and spoke.

“I’m not here to give you encouragement or motivation. I’m just saying that if you are making this competition out as a joke or some simple performance you had in whichever corner of Japan you came from, I suggest that you come to me and quit.”

“Apart from that, we will be going backstage now. Whenever I call for your name, come up to me, and it will be your turn to perform. Follow me, and remain silent at all times. All performances will be recorded, so we don’t want to disturb others.”

That man was as stoic as one could be; his facial expression didn’t budge an inch as he recited everything monotonously, as though he was reading from a prepared script. Still, none of us (aka everyone in the room) paid too much attention to him and just followed him backstage.

Due to the unique seating arrangement of Suntory Hall, the ‘backstage’ was more of an underground tunnel leading to the stage, where once entered, you would be shined by spotlights from all directions.

The only shadows on stage were below the piano itself, where the spotlights couldn’t reach.

I’ll find out soon enough, but before I played, it was Maruno’s turn.

Maruno looked very neat in his suit, and his tanned skin only accentuated his looks and charisma as it shined under the spotlight.

“Good afternoon, esteemed judges.” Maruno bowed towards the nine judges and smiled at the same time.

“Maruno Yoichi, is it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You may begin.” The head judge, Okura, smiled at him and said.

To ensure that all judges would not get bored, every group of people would play a different song that was given out three days before while we went to register.

After all, no matter how impartial a judge is, they are only humans in the end, and it’s impossible for them to not have biases after hearing the same song thousands of times.

Maruno sat down and started playing.

The piece that my group was supposed to play was Chopin’s – Fantaisie-Impromptu (Op. 66), a relatively simple piece for most of us here.

The first emphasized the quickness and dexterity of our fingers, ensuring that we don’t speed up or fumble. After this part, the next section of the piece was a slow melody.

If the fast part allowed the judges to judge how good our technical skills were, this slow part allowed them to know how smoothly we can play this part; how much emotions we can put inside this piece without messing up or changing the original meaning of this piece.

It also allows both the audience and the pianist to relax. It was very much like a relaxing episode of an anime after a tough fight with an enemy. A crude comparison, but what I mean is precisely that.

As the music slowly builds up, most notes are being played, giving the impression of increasing the song’s tempo when, in fact, the tempo had never wavered at all.

And once the relaxation was over, and the judges know how to judge him, it was time for the climax to return. The fast-paced, finger-tumbling part of the piece returned, giving the song its liveliness once more.

Overall, the piece’s technicality wasn’t very difficult; adding the feelings needed to play this piece to its best was the hard part.

Maruno, however, played the piece so easily. Even before this, while we were practicing in a rented room with a piano, Maruno did exceptionally well, from what I can tell, that is.

He said that he had played this piece before. Thus it was easy and lucky for him to be able to play this piece for the preliminaries.

But while technicality can be trained, emotions can only m.a.t.u.r.e. But if one didn’t use any feelings to play the piano, there was nothing to m.a.t.u.r.e. People who use emotions to play were typically more emotional than people who use pure technical skills.

So the fact that Maruno could do it meant that he was a very emotional guy, if it wasn’t obvious enough from the days I had interacted with him.

I, for one, think that balance would be the most essential factor. Without emotions, the piece might as well be played by a robot, and without the skills to back it up, it might as well be played by a baby.

After 7 minutes, Maruno had finished his piece. Standing up, he bowed once more to the judges before leaving the stage via the other exit.

“Maruno-kun is amazing, isn’t he?” Suzuki whispered behind me as he looked at the leaving Maruno with pride in his eyes.

“Yes.”

“You haven’t heard his playing two years ago as I did. But if you did, you wouldn’t just be impressed by his playing now. His rate of improvement is insane. From a measly second year in university to a senior at the fourth year, I wonder how much he had practiced amongst all the work he has in his life.”

I wanted to reply, but unfortunately, it was Suzuki’s turn to perform right after.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

“Phew…” Suzuki sighed with relief after he walked off the stage, “This isn’t my first time, but it’s still as nerve-wracking as always.”

“Seems like even a veteran performer still gets nervous on stage, huh, Suzuki-san?” Maruno smiled a little as he leaned against the wall.

“No one would be unafraid of being in the center of attention and being judged by hundreds of people at the same time.” Suzuki replied, “Not to mention, I can also see that you became as nervous as me.”

“What can I say? This is a chance to become even more famous as a pianist. If I screw up here, I’ll need to wait another two years, you know?” Maruno shrugged, “And by that time, I’ll be done with university already. Still…”

Maruno and Suzuki were currently in the “tunnel” leading them to their appointed waiting room. However, they haven’t left yet as both of them were waiting for Fuutarou’s turn to play.

“I still can’t believe it. Uesugi’s talent is almost…”

“Frightening, right?”

Maruno nodded, and Suzuki laughed softly, “Yes. I know. I’ve witnessed it myself firsthand. Imagine being a judge in a competition in a place where you think no talent would show up. Your expectations were low, but you were still looking forward to enjoying some music when all of a sudden, an eleven or twelve-year-old boy came up to the stage and played Beethoven’s most technical piece with ease.”

“So it’s true? I’ve searched online for that particular competition, but due to it being relatively small, there was limited information about it.”

“Yes. But-oh, it’s his turn.” Hearing another round of clappings, Suzuki’s attention turned to the stage, and he saw the familiar child.

Aside from the usual claps, some mutterings also stemmed from the audience’s disbelief. While the judges had already gotten the information about Fuutarou beforehand, it was still a surprise to see someone his age standing in front of them.

“Good afternoon, esteemed judges.” Like any other contestants, Fuutarou bowed towards the judges.

“Uesugi Fuutarou…”

“Yes.”

“Interesting. Do your best.” Okura smiled as she sat upright. She was looking forward to seeing either the genius rise to fame or the genius who has overestimated his capability and fall down to the ground. Either way, it was going to be fun.

The moment Fuutarou started playing, everyone was instantly attracted.

Was he doing anything special? No.

Was he doing anything different? Apart from being cuter than other participants, no.

Yet, people couldn’t help but be drawn to his music. This was what people referred to as the ‘grandmaster’ level of playing the piano – attracting people’s attention to your playing even when not doing anything special.

When you can successfully make people drawn to your music, when you can stand out amongst the masses even when doing the same exact thing as others, that was when you step into the level of a grandmaster.

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A/N: I don’t plan to focus too much on the preliminaries. The next chapter should be the last (concentrating on the finals of preliminaries before leaving Tokyo) before entering two new mini-arcs, which I think everyone will love before returning to the piano competition arc. I’ll give you a hint in the next chapter about both arcs.

A/R: It’s been a long time since I last rambled. Hahaha…gotta say, though, Bokutachi no Remake is fkin fantastic. I thought the time travel would be a one-time thing, but in chapter 26, a plot twist happened, and I’m very happy about it. #Shinoaki-best-girl-always