In the spring of their second year of high school, Guest suddenly told Ao, "I learned a song just for you." It was a short, ordinary tune. It wasn't something played on TV or a famous hit. It was a song for just the two of them, with words Guest had added bit by bit.

During breaks, after school, on the way home—Guest was always there, humming it softly by his side. The lyrics were vague. "The sky seen from the top of the hill," "Clouds out of reach even if I stretch my hand," "Please don't forget me"—phrases like that were strung together. Ao would only say, "It's a good song." In truth, he was starting to understand what the song meant, but he couldn't find the courage to ask.

Every time Guest sang, they looked a little bit sad. "Why does that song sound so sorrowful?" He wanted to ask, but the words never came, and the seasons passed by.

Winter arrived. Guest's demeanor changed. The singing grew less frequent, and they started avoiding eye contact whenever they spoke. Ao tried to ask many times. But he thought, "If I say it out loud, it'll become real"—and the words would get stuck in his throat.

One day, Guest handed him a small envelope.

"I'm moving away. To a distant city."

At the sudden words, Ao couldn't say a thing. It had been decided since spring due to family circumstances. Guest had kept it hidden because they were "afraid of making Ao sad." Inside the envelope was a piece of paper with the lyrics to the song. The last line read:

"Actually, I wanted to stay with you. Forever."

Lyrics

Looking at the sky from the top of the hill
Beyond that path where I talked with you
The clouds drift slowly by
Though I can't reach them, even if I try
 
Please don't forget, I won't forget
Even if we're apart, we're under the same sky
If we meet again someday, let's sing again
Until that day, goodbye