Kyousuke awoke just to see the nurse leaving... though he could swear something was odd about her outfit, she was gone before he had the chance to examine it more thoroughly. Left near his bed was a large box of some sort, gift wrapped.

Odd. It isn't my birthday or Christmas or nothing. He used his better hand to lift it up and test its weight. Hollow and wooden, unless he missed his guess. It was perhaps the right dimensions for an extravagant box for a violin bow...

He put it down and sobbed. Never again would he a hold a violin bow, to gently and firmly guide it along the strings of a violin. Never again would he be able to speak music with his violin as his mouth.

"You've a full life ahead of you" they said... "You have so many opportunities... you can do nearly anything!" They were so confident, but their reassurances were empty. He could do nearly anything perhaps... but not anything worth doing. He was a musician through and through, and the accident had crushed that dream. Sayaka came by every day, but she and his family were the only visitors he ever got. And Sayaka herself... she meant well, but she would never be able to understand. To have once been among the best in the world... not just for his age, but among all violinists. Who knew what heights he might have accomplished?

But that was all gone now. Now he was just a burden, receiving gifts from... Who is this from, anyway? He looked over the gift once more, but found no tag or label. Great, they don't even want to be associated with me. It's probably just Sayaka anyway. She's the only one who even comes around...

Well, it's not like there was anything else to do apart from dwell on what might have been. Over the next twenty minutes he picked numbly at the wrapping with his good hand, before tiring of the game and ripping free the wrapping in a swift motion.

"..."

Well, that's about right. A grimy wooden board. A useless, cast away bit of refuse. Yeah, fits me just right.

He hefted it in the air and looked at it a bit more. Dirt and grime covered it... he wouldn't be surprised if a maggot fell out of it if he shook it around. Then he noticed a few nubs on the corners of one side... the concave side, as the board had a curve to it along its length. One of them looked more like a peg... the others had perhaps once been the same and fallen off in the years this mysterious board had seen.

On the reverse side, he noticed something a bit off, but after a while (and a fair bit of scraping free dirt and the like), he found some small white chips, almost like teeth embedded into the wood at regular intervals.

What is this? Further investigation on the convex face revealed there was a bit less wear on a strip of the wood near the ends. Whatever this had once been, there was no doubt it had once been manufactured, though what it could be he had no idea. It was longer than he was tall, and given its unspeakably poor condition, he wondered how it had even been allowed into the hospital.

Still, it was the only thing that seemed alive in the sterile environment. Compared to the bed, the floor... even Kyousuke himself, the simple wooden board was a potent reminder that there was life, even if it was beyond Kyousuke's reach. Once, he had been able to reach out to that life... to make it hear the speech of his soul. But now...

He put down the board and sobbed. Eventually, the welcoming darkness of sleep overcame his grief.

He was dancing... his ruined legs finally healed. It was the first time he'd ever been to a dance, and alongside him, as she had been through his long recovery, was Sayaka. They danced to the tune of an unfamiliar stringed instrument... its simple melodies still pushed him to dance, starting slowly and easily with Sayaka. The pace picked up and they lost themselves more and more to the dance... soon they were going all out, and gravity itself seemed to let go of them. They flew around the room grasping each other's hands, but when Kyousuke next looked, Sayaka had changed. Instead of the school uniform she normally wore, she wore a white shirt with a purple collar and a simple black skirt with red horizontal stripes. She used her free hand to pluck at the the stripes in time with the music as her now brown hair, restrained only by a purple headband, surrounded his view of anything beyond her, drawing his gaze to her suddenly brown eyes.

They separated to arms length before he spun her into his arms as they drifted over the city, his home. He held her close and felt her warmth fill him. When he opened his eyes, he saw himself holding a familiar wooden board, but its comforting glow was no less. He closed his eyes, but instead of returning to its previous form, the wooden board remained, though the dirt had been scrubbed off, and instead strings covered its surface. He idly thumbed one of the strings, and the entire instrument seemed to shudder in pleasure. His fingers, more agile then ever, began to caress the instrument, and soon its sharp, plinging notes sounded like laughter. He kept tickling it, laughing along with it as beautiful music engulfed him.

"What is this disgusting thing doing here?" The nurse's cry woke Kyousuke suddenly. He blinked bleary-eyed, and looked around... sure enough, she was shouting at him and pointing at the board. In response, Kyousuke pointed to the balled up wrapping paper that had concealed it. The nurse noticed it and looked aghast.

"I'm sorry. The beastly thing shouldn't have been here to begin with. Gifts are supposed to be properly checked, and... who was this from?"

"Wasn't marked..." He replied simply.

"I see. Well, don't worry, we'll get this garbage thrown out right away."

Kyousuko watched as the nurse picked up the tattered remains of the wrapping paper and threw them away, then lifted the board. As she touched it, he knew he had to act... to do something.

"Please... would it be alright if I kept it? I think it suits me." Kyousuke honestly admitted. The useless board couldn't be a better match. "Besides, it brings a bit of life to the room."

The nurse gave him an odd look. "Well, I'll ask the doctor if it's alright. I suppose if you really want it, it's probably safe enough. Your immune system's shown itself to be fine." She set the board back near his bed.

"Thank you..." Kyousuke said. He remained silent as the nurse finished her other duties and left.

Once she had though, he looked once more to the board. Its mere presence was comforting. He looked at it again, and couldn't help but wonder what it might once have been. An image came to mind, then. One he had seen in a dream... it was an instrument, wasn't it?

He grabbed his computer and pulled it onto his lap. For everything else that had gone wrong, at least there was still a way to answer his question. Within a few minutes, Kyousuke had found the image from his dream.

It was a koto... a stringed instrument. It was no wonder it had looked familiar... he'd seen several played before. Kyousuke looked back at the board, and wondered.

If that had once been a koto, it had been horribly mistreated. And yet... he knew... that a koto was exactly what he was looking at. Kyousuke lifted it once again... the nubs and peg had once been legs.. and on the opposite face, the 'teeth' seemed to be bits of the bridges had sunk deep into the wood, mere fragments that remained as time and weather had claimed the strings and the bridges that supported them.

He had told his parents he never again wanted to see his violin... to burn it and scatter the ashes to the wind. And looking at the damaged koto, he recalled why. Nothing deserved this sort of treatment... burning the violin would at least let it rest... rest well earned for the only thing he'd been willing to share his life with and had served him so dutifully.

But this koto had been abandoned. Perhaps forgotten in a moldy storeroom somewhere, or perhaps its previous owner had simply tired of it and thrown it out. Heaven only knows how it had found its way here... but now looking at it, he couldn't bear to throw it away again. Just like himself, it had been discarded... but it wasn't his fault his was crippled... nor was it the instrument's fault that its owner had thrown it away.

It was perhaps a bit odd, but he found himself sympathizing more and more with the simple wooden board. He might never be able to play it, but neither could it ever speak to him. Neither was able to give what the other needed. No... that wasn't quite true... He would never be able to play it, but someone could. Not as it was, of course. It would hardly even be usable as a drum in its current condition, let alone a koto.

It'll give me something to do, I suppose. Goodness knows I've been looking for something. I'm never going to make music again, but dammit, that's no reason for this poor thing not to.

His parents would be willing to entertain whatever bizarre ideas he'd gotten, he knew. They were wealthy enough, and had often told him they would do their best to help him however they could... it was time to put that to the test.

Sure enough, they'd come through. Before him lay everything he would need. Pegs, polish, rags, and plastic bridges for the instrument lay scattered among strings and manuals. There would be a lot of work to do, and with his hands in the terrible condition they were, the fine, precision work would be difficult. On the other hand, he had just about all the time in the world to do it. It was late this night though, so he would rest up before starting... wherever he would need to start...

Kyousuke awoke early that morning... there was a lot of work to do, and the sooner he got started on it, the better. He set up a table over his bed... the first time of many, if he truly intended to see this through to the end.

First things first... this thing needed a bath. Years of grit and grime had settled into the grain of the wood, and he set about cleaning it. Gently, careful not to injure himself on splinters, he wiped off the surface with a rag, then grabbed a clean one and began to work on the rougher problem areas. Several times, he lost his weak grip, and the koto nearly leapt out of his hands. Laughing dryly at his own clumsiness, he wasted no time in grabbing it again and continuing to clean it, wetting a clean part of the rag, wiping an area clean, then drying it with another.

Before he even realized it, it was lunchtime. He'd been working for several hours easily, and taking a step back to look at the whole, the results were clear. It was far from freshly cut lumber, nor was it carefully seasoned wood of a hundred centuries. No amount of cleaning would ever fully hide the wear and age of the wood, but he found that appealing. This koto had a history, and he meant to maintain it. If he had simply built a new one, it would lack the life it had once had.

After a filling lunch he lay back down, exhausted already. Well, a brief nap wouldn't hurt... everyone was always telling him to rest more.

There she was, caked with mud and dirt. She'd had a rough time of it, wherever she'd been. Kyousuke didn't worry, though. She was here now, safe with him. But left like this she'd be tracking mud all over, and neither of them wanted that. He led her to the bath neither noticing nor caring what she was wearing apart from dirt. No uneasiness fell between them; they'd seen each other at their worst, and dirty though she was, she remained beautiful.

They entered the bath, and she couldn't help but splash around a bit. He tried to calm her, but knew before he'd even started that he would have no chance of doing so. She just wasn't that easily tamed, but on her own, she soon calmed, and looked at him as though waiting for the obvious.

Kyousuke laughed and joined her in the water with sponge in hand. They made a game of it as she tried to keep him from scrubbing her clean, wriggling free from his weak grip, both of them laughing as they amused themselves so. And in the end, what with her splashing around the bath, his victory was inevitable, and she was clean. They embraced each other again, two people who knew without needing words just how the other felt.

And through that, Kyousuke felt her pain. She had been trying to play it off, but once the dirt was gone, the injuries on her arms and feet were obvious. Her wrists and ankles were badly bruised, and the pain finally showed through her laughter. Even more than her nudity, she seemed ashamed of these injuries... Kyousuke swore he'd treat them, and she wept with joy.

He awoke well before the sun had set. Doubtless a nurse had been through to clean, as the rags that had born the worst brunt of the cleaning had been replaced with clean ones.

As he lifted the board, it seemed... different. He had spent so long cleaning it that he had nearly memorized every run of grain there was in it. They were still there: this was clearly the same board... but there was no way it could be. It wasn't merely clean, it looked almost alive. If he didn't know better, he'd have sworn somebody had replaced it while he was napping. Yet still there was the feeling of history as he held it... the wood still bore the weight of decades, but now, it was as though it had been carefully preserved through those years instead of left to the elements.

Perhaps I just cleaned it more than I thought. I'm glad... I swear you'll be put to use again. You just watch.

Next he realized he ought to put on the legs. The three worn nubs and single partial peg would need to be replaced. He wasn't allowed any cutting implements for fear he would injure himself (And he had indeed been sorely tempted to), but he could sand them down. It would have felt wrong just cutting them off, anyway.

He grabbed fine sandpaper and went to work, gently working as hard as his weakened wrists would let him. While he worked, he talked... about his dreams and how they'd been shattered... he talked about music... how he had loved watching others moved by his melodies, and how he had yet to come to terms with his inability to produce that ever again.

By the time the sun had set, he had finally managed to get one of the nubs flush with the underside of the koto board. He glued a replacement leg on, and held it carefully in his hands, watching it and wishing for it to mend... and an hour later, still gripping it in his bed, he fell into an easy sleep.

He massaged her bruised wrists and ankles with an ointment, insisting that she not push herself so hard. She nodded in thanks and apologized. Kyousuke's hands seemed revitalized themselves by the ointment they rubbed into her joints, though it was in no small part thanks to her smile warming him.

As he worked, he listened as she told of her dreams and how they'd been shattered. She talked about music, of how she had loved being able to touch the hearts of others with her melodies. She had yet to recover from her last job. Though her music had pleased the young master of the house, the head of the family had been bothered by the evening sounds and roughly thrown her out, leaving her in the sad condition she'd arrived in.

Kyousuke nodded as he carefully listened. He started to respond with his own story, but she hushed him...

"You already told me, remember?"

She let out a light laugh and relaxed further into his arms as he kept working on her wrists and ankles... She was right, wasn't she?

It had taken several days, but after a lot of sanding (enough to worry the nurses for a while; they were concerned the sawdust would aggravate his lungs, but wearing a mask to prevent breathing it in was enough to calm their nerves), he had finally attached all four legs. He flipped it over and rested it on the table he'd set up. Through some minor miracle, it was level... the legs were all of the right length... He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he was done with the majority of the sanding... Well, a bit of sanding over the surface proper was perhaps in order. Only a few easy hours later and he considered it finished enough.

He long ago ago decided to treat the wood, and now it was time to do so. It had taken some time finding a proper varnish for the wood, but his family had come through, thankful that he seemed to have found a new passion. It was a simple one that would dry quickly, but he rubbed his hands together eagerly... any pain or discomfort they gave him was firmly ignored. He grabbed the brush, opened the can, and began brushing it smoothly and evenly over the surfaces of the koto.

He had occasionally touched up his violin, treating it with a similar varnish. His hands worked easily as the familiar task brought him back... he'd treated his violin with such care... and now was merely thankful he could still help this koto in the same way. He focused intently, ensuring that the wood received a thorough coat. This time he spoke to it of Sayaka and her increasingly infrequent visits... of her inability to truly feel what he wanted... of the music she could never hear, yet played through his mind.

When he was finished, he set the thing out to dry andcalled a nurse to clean up the rags and open the window to air out the room. He'd needed to leave the legs undone, as they were already treated, and a different wood now to boot. Still, it made letting it dry easy... he watched as the varnish seemed to soak into the koto, and fell asleep as he watched it dry.

Well, her body was once again fit and healed, but with her injuries gone, suddenly her nudity was bothering her. That, at least, was easily solved. His old flame had recently departed, and left behind more than a few articles of clothing. He took her into the attic and opened up a chest. Eager, she quickly sifted through it as he politely averted his eyes. Finally she drew his attention to her as she wore a white blouse with purple collars, stitched shut with black thread. She also wore a knee-length black skirt, and a slightly longer, nearly transparent skirt underneath. She laughed as she explained.

"This is just what I was looking for."

"I'm glad you like it. It suited her well, but I think it looks even better on you."

She leapt at him and gave him a tremendous hug. "I hope I can repay you for this."

"I'd love it if you could come and perform for me..."

"Absolutely! I can't begin to tell you how much I owe you." She gave him a light peck on the cheek, and his body seemed to fill with boundless energy.

"Please, think nothing of it. Your presence is all I could ever want."

"I know you better than that. You want to make music, and you will. We'll do it together."

Kyousuke yawned as he awakened... A note was on his desk... a brief message from Sayaka wishing him well. He nodded his thanks and wrote a response for a nurse to collect later. She had made brief mention of the impossible-to-miss-koto, so he explained how he had been restoring it. He wondered if she would ever understand... it was just an instrument, but he already felt that he and the koto knew each other better than he and Sayaka did.

Well, of course that was true... both both lived to make music... and Sayaka had no interest in that side of the art.

Kyousuke hefted the board back up onto his bed. It was truly beginning to look like an instrument again. All that remained was to string it and put the bridges into place. Compared to the days of sanding he had needed, it was hardly an effort at all. Yet he put just as much meticulous care into it as he had into restoring the rest of the koto. It proved frustrating... his coordination wasn't what it had once been, and tying the knots while keeping the strings taut nearly proved too much.

I haven't come this far just to give up now. You will make music! I have faith in you. Please...

Kyousuke took a breath and steadied himself. When he next attempted it, the string nearly seemed to tie itself. He smiled warmly at the koto... perhaps he wasn't the only one who wanted to see it fixed.

The next strings fell into place nearly as easily, and by lunchtime he had managed to place the bridges. It had been exhausting, and he was thankful for the meal when it came.

And when he had finished, he looked at the repaired koto that had consumed nearly a week of his efforts as it rested upon the table he had set up... and he began to curse himself. He would never be able to play it. All that work, and for what?

It would have been better off remaining forgotten, wouldn't it? He'd done nothing but give it false hope. He knew now it would never be played, for he could never do so. Neither could he give away or even more cruelly, sell this instrument. He had put his heart and soul into it... but it was just as useless a piece of wood as it had been when it had arrived. He struggled to don the plectra... and once he'd donned them, he could only bring himself to pluck a single note as his wrist ached at the simple movement. The sound reminded him of what could have been... what should have been... and it broke his heart. He lay down, the koto still set up on the table over his bed, and cried himself to sleep under it.

He looked at her and cried. She was so happy, and he had so wanted to be with her. But it simply was not to be. She blurred through his teary eyes, until she wiped them away.

"The outfit's almost complete... it's missing something, but I don't know what." She looked into him, hoping he had the answer, as he had to everything else.

And for this one, last time, he did. He fished through the chest she had been rummaging through and handed her a pink hairband with thick black yarn forming a triangular pattern along the surface. He placed it on her head, and she laughed.

"Of course! How could I have forgotten? It's perfect!"

"It is... and you are. But I'm not... I want nothing more than to hear you perform, but I can see now that will never be. I've treated your wounds, I've cleaned you, I've clothed you... but I've no instrument for you to play."

"Then at last, perhaps I can do something for you." She spun around, and a series of red horizontal stripes seemed to spring forth from her skirt... after a complete revolution, they surrounded her, hovering a scant few inches from her skirt that seemed to float steadily as she spoke again.

"Use me as your instrument. Let me hear the music deep in your soul. I've never wanted anything more; I swore we'd make music together... so please..."

Kyousuke nodded. "What is your name?" He had never thought to ask her name before... names belonged to things that were real... not this perfect fantasy. Despite this, she gave an answer... one he could never forget.

Then he walked up to her, and gently ran his hands along the strings hovering above her skirt as she caught him in an embrace. As his finger touched each strand, it gave a soothing tone... brushing his hands along her made the world ring out in music... his soul spoke out once more... finally, he could be heard once again...

Kyosuke awoke to find a nurse looking at him in shock... the echoes of the last notes of his dreams still echoed in his ears.

"How... did you... are you... What?" The nurse mere stammered out. Kyousuke looked a little confused before realizing what had her surprised. Laid before him was his koto... his right hand still wore the plectra he'd gone to sleep wearing, and currently hovered over the strings along with his left hand... strings that still trembled with the last hints of notes.

"What's wrong? You said something..." The doctor asked as he ran in... the nurse could do little to explain, instead simply turning to Kyousuke and asking him:

"Please... do it again."

Kyousuke nodded... and looked at the Koto. He reached for her strings and plucked them carefully, unsure of just what to do...

Then he saw her hands reaching out from the instrument, and he moved his to meet them. He clasped his hands over them, and smiled as his hands moved, guided by her soft, feminine hands. The joy within his soul simply couldn't be contained, and the music of the koto gave it voice.

"It's a miracle... an honest to goodness miracle." The doctor herded the nurse out to spread the good news, and Kyousuke turned to the koto into which he had breathed life, and which had similarly returned his life to him. He saw her stand out from the koto before embracing him in a hug. There she was, helping him now... repaying him for saving her... And she spoke.

"That was beautiful Kyousuke. Please... can we do it again?"

He laughed easily, feeling true joy again for the first time since the accident...

"I'd like nothing more, Yatsuhashi."

Author's note: I don't know what you were all expecting when you clicked on the link. Neither Kyousuke nor Yatsuhashi are exactly #1 favorites of their respective series, but come on, a guy who'd rather spend a date with his violin than a girl and a girl who happens to be an instrument? It's a match made in heaven.

Why Yatsuhashi instead of Benben? I like Yatsuhashi more. She is the koto, but Benben just holds her biwa. Raiko's the mysterious gifter at the beginning, obviously: Kyousuke's hope and later skill have become the outside source of energy for Yatsuhashi to continue existing as she does. Sorry this is so rough, but, well...

I got the concept idea for this while walking home from dinner. I then sat down and wrote for four hours. An hour of editing later and now there's this. I hope you liked it. I enjoyed letting inspiration take the helm for a while.

Disclaimer: I don't know a bloody thing about restoring instruments, so... uh... don't take this as a guide on how to do that. Also I don't work in a hospital so I may have made some erroneous assumptions there, too. Also I don't own Touhou or PMMM, of course.