I am only one world away from Yukinoshita.

Huang Qian stood there blankly for a while before realizing there was someone else next to her. She was startled and took a step back, but then, afraid that her rudeness would offend the senior who was performing, she quickly straightened up.

The person beside me was Kiyoshi, who had left the room early in the morning.

She sat on the wooden railing, her legs tucked in, dangling herself in mid-air, her back slightly hunched, her eyes gazing at Asuka not far away with a mixture of infatuation and wistfulness. The gold-rimmed glasses that had slipped off her high-bridged nose made her originally delicate appearance look somewhat comical, but Huang Qian did not laugh out loud; she could not laugh out loud.

As if completely unaware of Huang Qian's arrival, an indescribable sense of loss emanated from Qing Lai. Carried by the wind, she frowned, pursed her lips, and stared blankly ahead.

Why would someone make that expression?

A gentle breeze ruffled Qinglai's loose black hair, and her deep blue eyes seemed so calm they could drip water.

Suddenly, the wind picked up.

The wind blew through their hair, and Huang Qian could be vaguely seen among the flowing black strands.

The tears that slid down from the corners of my eyes.

I left quietly, as if I had never been there.

Huang Qian slowly walked away, clutching his beloved instrument, until the melodious sound of the pipe could no longer be carried by the wind.

That was their own world, a world that no one else could intrude upon.

..................................................................

When Huang Qian saw the two again, it was already time for morning practice. The members got up one after another and came to the practice room. Starting with breathing exercises, the originally quiet practice room gradually became lively again. There were energetic and enthusiastic good mornings and encouragements, and the usual teasing and pranks. Huang Qian only saw Asuka-senpai as usual, with a calm and gentle greeting, a just-right smile and etiquette. Huang Qian only encountered Kiyoyori, who was no different from usual.

It was like a hazy dream, a dream in which Asuka played an unknown tune, and Kiyori lost control and wept because of the tune.

Huang Qianxiang tried to put everything out of his mind as if nothing had happened, but for some reason, he could always hear that strange yet familiar melody and that unforgettable morning.

Until that unforgettable melody reappeared in my ears, but it was no longer the familiar performance.

It was during lunch break. Even if the teacher didn't ask them to practice on their own, the members would find a quiet place to practice, just like they would at school.

Huang Qian was wandering aimlessly through the forest with his euphonium in his arms when he unexpectedly encountered that familiar melody.

But the sound of this pipe is not the same as the sound of that pipe.

Unlike the deep and warm sound of the euphonium, the oboe's sound is always high-pitched yet gentle. Although it is the same melody, it is a completely different style. Although they are two completely different instruments, they share a similar sadness.

It was Qinglai standing by the babbling brook. Instead of playing her own solo piece, she played this unfamiliar melody.

No sheet music is needed; the music seems to flow from the heart.

No words are needed; music is the best form of communication.

It was the same piece of music, but it was Kiyori's response to Asuka.

As if blending into the surrounding nature, the babbling brook gradually fades away, and only the gentle sound of the oboe echoes in the wind.

Similar yet different silhouettes, fingers leaping across the silver keys, and captivating pipe music.

It makes you want to stop and look.

Huang Qian wasn't the only one drawn to the sound of the pipes.

A small figure hid in the shade of a tree, leaning against it as she watched the musician swaying slowly to the music by the riverbank.

A slender figure stood in the shade of a tree, her back gently leaning against it, listening to the melodious and gentle sound of pipes from the riverbank.

That's right.

Familiar, yet strange.

P.S.: After watching the movie "Saekano: The Movie," I suddenly wanted to add more scenes for Kiyoshi. There might be some stomach medicine coming up, and it'll be heartbreaking for Kiyoshi, Yukino, and Utaha, and maybe even another person. You can call Kiyoshi a jerk, but please stick to this non-cultish pairing and don't waver, because those of you who have seen the side stories know that Yukino is the ultimate winner! We're not speculating; we're just adding a little more fuel to Kiyoshi and Yukino's relationship—the kind of seasoning for love.

Chapter 28, Section 189: Teach Me

As the song ended, Kiyoyori stood by the stream, quietly savoring the moment, when he was drawn to the sound of soft footsteps behind him.

Turning her head toward the source of the sound, she saw a little guy peeking out and staring blankly at her. Seeing that she had been discovered, Tsurumi Rumi stopped hiding and walked out of the shadows of the tree, clutching the camera to her chest.

"It is you."

Holding the oboe to her chest, Kiyotaka sighed softly. After waiting a moment without the other person speaking, she turned away, feeling bored. As she turned, she glanced at the other person's injured knee, which was hidden by jeans, so she couldn't see anything. However, noticing that the other person's walking posture was still a bit awkward, she figured that even a minor scrape would be an uncommon injury for a little girl of that age.

"Aren't you going to play with your classmates? Why did you come here all by yourself?"

Kiyoyori, who had no intention of acknowledging the other party, unintentionally recalled his conversation with Yukina by the lake last night, and the words slipped out of his mouth without him even realizing it.

"what is this?"

Instead of answering Kiyori's question, Tsurumi asked about the musical instrument in Kiyori's hand.

"You mean this?" He shook the oboe in his hand and noticed the girl's gaze following suit. "This is an oboe, a musical instrument, a type of woodwind instrument."

"Wooden pipe?"

Tsurumi carefully examined the instrument, which was inlaid with many silver keys, and finally recognized from its dark body that it was a wooden instrument.

"Because it's made of wood?"

"Simply put, that's it," Kiyotaka said, showing some interest as he talked about his oboe. "Among woodwind instruments, the flute or saxophone are probably more well-known to the general public."

"Aren't flutes and saxophones both made of metal?"

“The flute was originally made of wood, but it evolved into what it is today. As for the saxophone,” Kiyotaka removed the reed from the slender silver tube, “because the saxophone’s sound production principle is the same as the oboe, it also requires a reed, so even though it is made of metal, it is still classified as a woodwind instrument.”

"A reed?"

Tsurumi took unsteady little steps toward Kiyoyori, and Kiyoyori cooperated by bending down and handing the whistle to the girl.

"Can I take a picture?"

Puzzled by the other party's strange request, Kiyoyori nodded, "It's alright."

Focusing the lens on Kiyoyori's reed, the lens inevitably captured her slender jawline, which, unlike the gentleness of most Japanese women, resembled a sharpness imbued with European or American features.

Speaking of which, this person's eyes are blue...

Without realizing it, I moved the camera up a little and saw Kiyoshi's enlarged, exquisite face, and her slightly puzzled eyes.

"Are you done taking pictures?"

Like a babbling brook flowing by, when this person speaks without emotion, it always has a chilling quality, like a mountain spring.

"Um... um..."

Hastily retracting the camera to his chest, Tsurumi, as if trying to conceal something, skipped to the previous photo on the screen.

“You just said the sound production principles are different,” Tsurumi tugged at his hat to cover his face, “This is because they are different between wood pipes and…”

"Copper pipe".

Kiyoshi considerately finished Tsurumi's sentence.

"Hmm... copper pipe..."

"The sound production principle of woodwinds is the vibration of the reed, which is also called a reed plate. Because two reeds are used, the oboe is called an oboe," Kiyotaka said, putting the reed to her lips and gently blowing air in, producing a sharp sound. "The sound production principle of brass instruments is through the vibration of the player's lips," she said, then took out the reed and gently placed her index and middle fingers on her lips, exhaling softly. Her lips vibrated rapidly, but unlike before, there was no sharp sound. "This is a completely different way of producing sound."

Trying to imitate Kiyori, Tsurumi put two fingers to his lips, but he couldn't quite replicate Kiyori's gesture.

"Oh."

Kiyoshi chuckled softly, touched by the other party's bewildered actions.

"What are you laughing at?"

Perhaps the soft laugh touched the child's dignity, for Tsurumi's face hardened, but the roots of his ears, hidden in his hair, were faintly red.

"nothing."

This was the first time Tsurumi had seen a gentle emotion in Kiyori's eyes.

"It just reminded me of my past self."

As he stood up, Kiyoyori patted Tsurumi's head and said, "If you can learn it after watching it once, you're a genius. This kind of thing can't be learned in a day."

"How long did Kiyora study?"

Are you going to call me by my name directly?

A complex expression flashed across Kiyoyori's face for a moment.

"Seven years."

Upon hearing the answer, Tsurumi showed a surprised expression, "I didn't realize you were such a loyal person."

“This should be called perseverance,” Kiyoshi couldn’t help but correct, even though the word “long-lasting affection” could also be considered correct from another perspective. “I’m sorry if you seem like a heartless person.”

Tsurumi shook his head, "I think this is fine too."

This was truly a bizarre conversation. Kiyotaka couldn't help but chuckle; she was actually discussing such things with a child who was still in elementary school.

"Small in stature but big in mind."

Kiyori's mutterings were not heard by Tsurumi.

“Go back to your own place,” Kiyoyori said, raising his oboe again and turning away from Tsurumi, who was still standing behind him. “Don’t disturb my practice.”

Kiyoyori deliberately spoke harshly, wanting to send this unsociable girl back to where she belonged.

"I think it's great here."

Tsurumi sat down on the lawn, hugging her knees, but a clear expression of pain flashed across her face as she bent her knees.

"what……"

Without leaving a trace, he glanced at the person still hiding in the shadows of the tree not far away, and helplessly took out another prepared whistle from his pocket.

"Here, you can play with it." He handed the reed to the little girl who hadn't yet reacted.

Tsurumi took the whistle with suspicion. She looked up at Kiyoyori, whose face was hidden in shadow because he was backlit. "Won't this bother you?"

Even though the other person's face was completely dark, Tsurumi could clearly feel Kiyori's smile. "Didn't you say you wouldn't bother me?"

The girl, annoyed by the mockery, put the whistle in her mouth and tried to blow air into it, but she could only hear the sound of blowing. She couldn't produce a clear sound, let alone the tone that Qinglai was trying to play.

Undeterred, Tsurumi continued to blow air forcefully into the reed, but this only made her feel more tired and did nothing else change.

Incredulity filled her stubborn eyes, and Qinglai could almost hear the girl's swallowed-back "Teach me," but she still refused to admit defeat.