The Eternal Saxophone

 　　Sitting in front of the tree hollow, Barco was playing his saxophone again.

　　Barco was a brown bear.

　　The morning sun shone on his not-so-handsome face. His nose was too short, and his mouth too wide. He wasn't very smart, and his temperament was too gentle.

　　"A bear like you isn't very popular with other bears,"

　　said Midu, a bear girl who lived not far away, to Barco. At the time, Barco wasn't saddened by these words. He thought Midu was right. Back then, he was still learning to play the saxophone, and he played terribly.

　　Midu was a very beautiful bear; she was sturdy, with bright, darting eyes. Her nose was always wet, making her look healthy and mischievous.

　　Barco played for a while, then stopped and looked to his right. Midu lived in that direction.

　　"Today I played a new tune, about fireflies that were so sad that they flew all over the sky, eventually turning into stars… I wonder if she heard it…"

　　Barco wondered.

　　Midu was eating her breakfast honey porridge, and some of it was probably stuck to her nose, which she was licking with her tongue.

　　Midu walked towards Barco, licking her nose contentedly.

　　Barco pretended not to see her, continuing to play his saxophone, though he was secretly pleased.

　　"Aren't you hungry after playing for so long?" Midu asked, standing in front of him.

　　Barco shook his head. "No." But in his heart, he thought: Her nose is so beautiful.

　　"Your saxophone playing is getting better and better, I really like it."

　　"What I played today was..."

　　"It's a new piece, I can already hear it. It seems to have a starry feel to it. It's nice, very good."

　　"Really?" Barco was delighted and wanted to tell her the whole story, "Well, in the piece..."

　　"Play another new piece for me. I love listening to them." Midu interrupted him.

　　Barco was a little disappointed.

　　“A new tune? Let me think…”

　　A blade of grass trembling in the wind, filled with longing;

　　a rabbit soaked in the rain, awaiting its letter;

　　a mushroom growing in a crack in a tree, dreaming of traveling far away…

　　Midu suddenly stood up.

　　“Right, I have to go check on my vegetables. Keep the new tune; I want to hear it.”

　　She quickly walked away.

　　Barco watched her retreating figure; the trembling grass, the rabbit in the rain, the mushroom on the tree—all gone.

　　Barco stood there for a while, then played the tune about fireflies turning into stars again.

　　It didn’t sound as good as the first time.

　　At that moment, in a small tree hollow not far from Barco, a pair of bright black eyes gleamed.

　　It was a civet cat, Barco’s neighbor. She always listened silently to Barco playing the saxophone, never speaking, just staring with her bright, round black eyes. Those round eyes would change with the music, sometimes clear, sometimes dreamy, sometimes hazy, sometimes enchanting. However, Barco had never noticed.

　　"That cute little civet cat, I wonder if she understood," Barco thought to himself. He felt that only Midu could truly understand his music.

　　"I really like Midu," Barco told himself.

　　"A bear like you isn't very popular with other bears," Barco remembered this saying.

　　He suddenly felt very sad.

　　Evening. Barco hugged his saxophone, gazing at a busy gray cloud drifting in the sky.

　　Barco was immersed in his thoughts.

　　Midu, her little nose wet, walked gracefully over.

　　"Barco, I want to hear you play the saxophone."

　　She rested her chin on her hands, her eyes darting around, innocent and gentle.

　　"Play, Barco, play."

　　Barco picked up the saxophone and began to play.

　　A withered leaf fallen on a rock longs for its green branch;

　　a drop of water on moss falls into a still pool, never to be found again;

　　a sail on the sea struggles to drift towards the moon, forever out of reach…

　　In the little tree hollow, the civet's bright black eyes are sometimes clear, sometimes dazed, sometimes hazy, sometimes dreamy.

　　Barco plays his saxophone, having forgotten Midu's existence, even forgotten his own. It's as if his entire life has become that saxophone.

　　"Snap."

　　Barco seems to wake from a dream, only then realizing that Midu has kissed his face.

　　"Barco, you played so well. It really moved me…"

　　Midu said, two tears streaming down her face.

　　Barco was also moved by her words, almost shedding tears himself. He felt he had never played so well before.

　　In Barco's heart, it was as if a joyful saxophone was playing.

　　"Midu, Midu, I…"

　　Midu covered Barco's words with her palm.

　　“Barco, your music reminds me of…reminds me of…”

　　“What?”

　　“Reminds me of…”

　　“What?”

　　“Him.”

　　“Him?”

　　Silence fell; neither spoke.

　　In the little tree hollow, the civet's bright black eyes watched them.

　　Finally, Midu spoke.

　　“Yesterday he came to see me, that young bear behind the mountain. He asked me to move there. I…I didn’t want to go, so he got angry, kicked me, and left. But, but, I don’t know why, now…I really miss him…”

　　“…” Barco didn’t know what to say. He only noticed that Midu’s nose was now very dry.

　　“Barco, no bear can play the saxophone as well as you. You’re really likable.”

　　Barco saw that Midu’s nose was dry and white. The wet nose was gone.

　　At this moment, heavy footsteps sounded.

　　A tall, young, and strong brown bear appeared before them.

　　He glanced at the saxophone with disgust.

　　“Midu, what are you doing here again? Are you coming with me or not?”

　　Midu silently stood up.

　　Midu went with him.

　　Barco lowered his head, avoiding looking at their shrinking figures.

　　A civet cat with bright black eyes emerged from its tree hole and gently approached Barco.

　　The saxophone gleamed with a yellowish light in the moonlight, almost indistinctly.

　　The civet cat gently stroked the saxophone.

　　“Barco, I want a saxophone like that too.”

　　Barco stared blankly at the civet cat for a while, then suddenly roared,

　　“What’s the use of a saxophone? What’s the use of a saxophone?”

　　Barco slammed the saxophone to the ground and stomped away.

　　The civet cat was startled, staring at the saxophone lying on the ground, unsure what to do.

　　After a while, the civet cat picked up the saxophone and tried to play it.

　　“Puff—”

　　The sound was like a sob.

　　When Barco saw the saxophone again, it was at the entrance of his tree hollow. It shone brightly, looking radiant. Underneath the saxophone was a note that read:

　　“Barco, your life is in this saxophone, don’t lose it.”

　　The civet cat had placed it there. She had wiped every corner of the saxophone with her fur.

　　Barco picked up the saxophone and looked at it, muttering softly, “Your life is in this saxophone, your life is in this saxophone…”

　　Finally, Barco shook his head.

　　“I have no life left. What’s the use of it?”

　　Barco dug a hole in the ground and put the saxophone in. When he buried the soil, Barco finally understood that his passionate saxophone playing

　　had all been for Midu.

　　Now Midu was gone, and the saxophone was useless.

　　As Barco sat blankly at the entrance of the tree hollow, the bright black eyes of the civet cat in the opposite hollow watched him intently.

　　Those black eyes were filled with sorrow.

　　From that moment on, Barco completely changed.

　　He was disheveled all day long, lying down to sleep whenever he felt like it. When he woke up, he would dig up whatever was in the ground and eat it, always humming, "

　　Wandering everywhere, wandering everywhere..."

　　The civet cat's bright black eyes never looked at him again.

　　One day, Barco suddenly remembered: "Hey, where's the little civet cat? Where did she go?"

　　He went to check the little tree hollow, but it was empty. The civet cat had long since moved away.

　　"She must hate this beggar-like bear, haha. Go away, go away, leaving me alone to die here, rot here!

　　Hahaha!"

　　Barco said to himself, humming a tune as he walked away.

　　"Wandering everywhere, wandering everywhere..."

　　He had completely forgotten the saxophone.

　　Barco had lost track of time.

　　One night, Barco slept in his tree hollow. A musty smell wafted from the hollow, but Barco didn't care and slept soundly.

　　In his dream, Barco heard the saxophone.

　　A withered leaf fallen on a rock longed for its green branch;

　　a drop of water on moss fell into a still pool, never to be found again;

　　a sail on the sea struggled to drift towards the moon, forever out of reach...

　　Barco awoke to find his eyes filled with tears.

　　He didn't know if his tears were from sadness or joy. The saxophone, which he thought he had completely forgotten, sounded so vividly again. Moreover, this piece was composed during his most talented period.

　　He knew he still loved the saxophone.

　　But Barco woke up, and the music continued to play. Not the saxophone, but a more mournful flute.

　　The sound came from the small tree hollow opposite.

　　Barco jumped up and ran outside.

　　It was the civet cat playing its flute at the entrance to the little tree hole.

　　The civet cat stopped and looked at Barco.

　　“Barco, I’ve gone to a very far place to learn the flute.”

　　“I…”

　　“Barco, I’m playing all the pieces you composed. ” “I…

　　”

　　“Barco, aren’t you playing your saxophone anymore?”

　　“I…”

　　“Barco, do you know that every day the sun is new?”

　　Barco lowered his head.

　　As if electricity was coursing through his body, Barco turned and ran towards his front door.

　　He started digging in the ground, digging for the saxophone buried in the soil.

　　But there was no saxophone under the soil.

　　Barco began digging frantically. Soon he had dug up a large patch of soil.

　　The civet cat walked up to him, a flash of golden light.

　　“This is your saxophone.”

　　The civet cat held the saxophone in its hands. The saxophone was gleaming, every crevice gleaming.

　　“I polish it every day,” the civet cat said.

　　Barco suddenly realized that the civet cat had become so beautiful after so many days.

　　“Civet, you…”

　　“What, Barco?”

　　“Why did you learn the flute?”

　　“Because my life is in the flute.”

　　“You could understand my music before?”

　　Civet lowered her head and said, “Yes, I understood it all.”

　　They talked as they walked towards the hillside. There, the moon had already risen. The flute and saxophone gleamed brilliantly under the moonlight; one a golden yellow, the brass saxophone; the other a silvery white, the silver flute.