A letter?
There was still a letter?
Gong Yan wiped his eyes with a tissue.
He had thought the story ended the moment Kaori Miyazono's surgery failed.
But now... a letter?
Could it be Kaori's farewell letter to Kousei Arima?
Just after leaving the competition venue, Kousei received the letter. Upon learning of Kaori's failed surgery, he looked devastated and carried the letter to a quiet corner to open it.
As he unfolded the paper, Kaori's voice began to narrate its contents.
"To Kousei Arima,"
"It feels weird to write this letter, especially since we were just together."
"You're a really strange person."
Kaori's voice played gently in the background, pulling Gong Yan—and every viewer in front of their TVs—into the world of that letter.
The scene transitioned.
To Kaori's childhood.
Back when she had just started learning music.
Her parents once took her to a live music competition.
From the stage came a powerful and flawless piano performance.
A boy of the same age, playing perfectly, mechanically, without a single mistake—the sound sent shivers down everyone's spine.
That young boy, immersed in his performance, was etched into the little girl's gaze.
Her once timid expression now brimmed with awe and longing.
"His tone was as vivid as a 24-color sound palette. The melody seemed to dance in the air... Even so, you gave up piano."
From that moment on, she made up her mind to switch from piano to violin.
Because she hoped that one day, she could become an excellent violinist, and the one playing piano beside her...
Would be you, Kousei Arima.
Gong Yan's eyes widened. So Kaori hadn't met the male lead in the first episode?
She had known of him since they were children—and had admired him ever since.
Their "first duet" wasn't fate—it was planned.
The story moved on.
Middle school.
Kaori and Kousei entered the same school.
She recognized him immediately—the boy who inspired her to take up the violin.
But beside him was his childhood friend, Tsubaki Sawabe.
And his best friend, Ryota Watari.
That boy, now someone who no longer plays the piano.
She had no space to enter his world.
Her illness had been with her since she was young, and her school attendance had always been spotty. Eventually, her condition worsened rapidly.
And when Kaori realized she might not have much time left—
"To keep regrets out of my grave... I told a lie."
Kaori's narration was cheerful and warm.
"The thing about me liking Ryota Watari... That was the lie I told, just to bring you closer to me."
Gong Yan's breath hitched.
'Your Lie in April'.
If this were true...
Then her entrance in Episode 1—where she supposedly liked Watari and asked Tsubaki to bring him and Kousei to cheer her on for her violin recital—that was her plan.
"And I got to know you."
"You were more timid than I imagined."
"Your voice, deeper than I imagined."
"More masculine than I imagined."
"But just as I imagined—you were a kind person."
Gong Yan's eyes welled up again.
So this… this was what Kaori wanted to tell Kousei before she died?
Before the surgery, she had already decided—no matter the outcome, she would tell the truth.
Her letter went on, recounting everything they had experienced together.
How she met the boy she'd admired since childhood.
How she pulled him out of his darkness.
How she helped him rediscover his love for music.
And finally, the words she had always wanted to say:
"I wonder if I managed to live in someone's heart."
"Did I live in your heart, Kousei Arima?"
"Even just for a moment—will you remember me?"
"I won't allow your memories to reset. Don't forget me, okay?"
On screen, Kousei silently nodded through tear-filled eyes as he read the letter.
Of course. There was never any doubt.
In the background, Kaori's voice came again:
"Kousei Arima, I love you."
A confession—pure and unfiltered.
This was the scene that every 'Your Lie in April' fan had waited for since Episode 1.
And yet now, it just... hurt.
Why didn't she say it while she was still alive?
On screen, Kousei looked out at the street.
Cherry blossoms danced in the air, like they were back in that April.
Kaori turned back to look at Kousei—and at all the viewers watching on the other side of the screen—and smiled.
That girl, that moment, etched itself into everyone's heart.
A kind of sadness—but also healing—rose in their chests.
Kousei looked at the blooming spring.
The sorrow in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a faint smile.
"Spring is almost here. The spring when I met you... is almost here."
"A spring without you... is also almost here."
The ending theme played.
The story of 'Your Lie in April' came to an end.
In Gong Yan's heart, it felt as if something had been pulled away—leaving behind a hollow space.
He couldn't accept this ending.
This story that began and ended in spring...
A girl and a boy, saving each other in their respective lives.
Kaori left without regret.
Kousei would carry her memory, her hope, her admiration, and her love forward.
He would no longer wallow in self-pity, no longer give up on life.
His life was saved by this girl.
Was 'Your Lie in April' a tragedy? Was it soul-crushing?
Of course not. Kaori left with a smile.
And Kousei didn't sink into darkness after her death.
Every viewer understood that Kaori didn't regret anything. Meeting Kousei made her short life full and colorful.
Her wishes came true. She goofed around with the boy she admired, performed with him, and successfully confessed.
But...
Gong Yan grabbed a tissue and blew his nose hard.
Even though he knew all that...
He still felt unwilling. Still couldn't let go. Still felt resentful.
Maybe Kaori's death elevated the drama, made the story more romantic and poetic.
But any true fan of 'Your Lie in April', any true fan of Kaori Miyazono, would've preferred a simpler ending.
Even if it was plain. Even if it was cliché.
They would've rather had Kaori survive.
Then one day, she appeared in front of Kousei's door, cherry blossoms swirling around her—and flashed that same signature smile.
Not this.
Not this ending.
Damn it.
"I'll admit, this ending really moved me. Kaori's final 'lie' and the truth that followed were romantic and powerful."
"But Su Yan, you deserve to be roasted into dust for this!"
Fury boiled in Gong Yan's chest. He opened his laptop, went straight to RaccoonNet, and pulled up the comment section under 'Your Lie in April's episode page.
He transformed into a keyboard warrior, unleashing a flood of rage.
Back during exams, he had to squeeze out 800 words for an essay.
Now?
Roasting Su Yan? The words flowed like a tidal wave.
And he wasn't alone.
By now, the comment section was dominated by tens of thousands—hundreds of thousands—of 'Your Lie in April' fans and Kaori fans.
["Yep. Just like I thought. Another heartbreak. Should've known better than to trust Old Thief Su."]
["I never trusted Su Yan for a second—and yet, this story still wrecked me. What the heck happened to you in childhood, Su Yan? Why can't you give your characters a happy ending for once?"]
["I thought Kaori's death would be the saddest part. But that letter… That letter destroyed me."]
["Kaori knew about her condition for years. And all she wanted... was to perform with the boy she admired. To help him move on. Damn it, if I ever meet a girl like that in real life, I'd give up sports cars and mansions in a heartbeat!"]
["Bro, I know you're heartbroken, but that made me laugh way too hard."]
["Three of us girls in the dorm watched the final episode together. When it ended, we all stood on the balcony. That kind of heartbreak? I want to punch Su Yan!"]
["Kaori Miyazono is the best. Shen Liqian is a queen. Su Yan, get on your knees and apologize."]
["Starting today, I'm Su Yan's lifelong hater. No mercy. The fact that Sakura TV kicked him out was completely deserved."]
["As angry as I am at Su Yan, I'll say this: he wasn't fired. He left Sakura TV on his own."]
["Why did Kaori have to die? We never even learned what her illness really was."]
["Didn't the story say there were two treatment options? The other hospital's method was riskier… Do you think she might've survived if they chose that one?"]
["Don't overthink it. Maybe this was Su Yan's way of showing how life is full of difficult choices. We reflect, we wonder 'what if'—but in the end, maybe nothing would've changed. Even if they'd chosen differently."]
["But still… if the surgery had a success rate, that means it was possible! So why wasn't Kaori the one granted a miracle?"]
["Because Su Yan isn't human! No miracles in real life is one thing, but no miracles even in a TV show? We watch dramas for the miracles, man! Su Yan doesn't get that. He'll never reach the top of the screenwriting world in Xia Nation."]
["I don't want Su Yan to win, but I also don't want 'Your Lie in April' or Kaori to lose to 'Summer Splendor'. I'm emotionally conflicted!"]
["We're mad at the author, not the work. Su Yan is a clown, but 'Your Lie in April' is a masterpiece."]
["Mark my words—I'm done with Su Yan's shows. If I watch again, I'll livestream myself eating and give everyone in this thread ¥100 each. I swear."]
All night, the resentment of 'Your Lie in April' fans seemed to turn into something tangible.
Su Yan watched the emotion points flood into his system space, feeling secretly uneasy.
But for the entire TV industry of Xia Nation, the more important question was—
What were last night's ratings for 'Your Lie in April'?
Judging from the online buzz, it had clearly outshone 'Summer Splendor' on its finale night.
But as for the hard numbers—no one knew yet.
Su Yan got up early.
Even though the show had wrapped, running his own studio meant he still had tons of loose ends to deal with.
Signing overseas licensing agreements.
Finalizing closure work with Aozora TV.
Settling product placement fees with all the sponsors.
Discussing launch times and promo strategies for 'Your Lie in April: Alternate Ending' with RaccoonNet...
Inside their rented office building, Su Yan and Shinozaki Ikumi were both immersed in work.
But nearing noon, the two of them gravitated toward the same spot, nervously watching their phones.
At this time, Aozora TV would usually release the prior evening's viewership ratings.
"Number one, number one, number one—please!" Ikumi clasped her hands together, phone held tight.
"Hey, calm down." Su Yan handed her a glass of water.
"How can I calm down?" Ikumi took a deep breath.
"'Your Lie in April' has fought so hard to get this far. If it had no chance, I could let it go. But I feel like it's possible. It's just…"
"You're worried the final episode's twist—Kaori's death—might've scared off viewers and caused a ratings crash halfway through, right?" Su Yan smiled.
"Exactly! If you'd just written a normal show, I wouldn't have to live in fear every week. Every time I check the ratings, it's like reliving college entrance exam results!"
She gave him a sideways glance.
"You know you've hit the top spot on every trending list on all four major streaming platforms—because fans are cursing you."
"I'm not looking," Su Yan said, taking a sip of coffee by the window with full composure.
"If I know they're yelling at me, why go read it? Am I an idiot?"
"I just got off the phone with the RaccoonNet team. The alternate ending of 'Your Lie in April' will drop early Friday morning. Once today's ratings are out, the teaser video will go live tonight…"
"And with that, the story of 'Your Lie in April' will truly come to a close. Whatever today's result is, we've already given it everything over the past few months. Let's relax. Leave the outcome to the market," Su Yan said with a smile.
Ikumi's expression shifted slightly, then she sighed.
"You really do have nerves of steel."
"Well, yeah. Otherwise, how could I keep putting out scripts I know will get me cursed every single time?" Su Yan replied.
Of course, people don't change overnight.
Shinozaki Ikumi remained anxious.
Su Yan, however, waited in calm silence.
Minute by minute, time ticked on.
Then suddenly—
Both their phones buzzed at the same time.
Their expressions sharpened instantly.
Ikumi's heart pounded like a drum.
It was here.
The moment that would determine the final result of the show.
She picked up her phone, opened the message—