About

It started with a common confession. The kind I received all the time. Since I wasn't interested, I turned them down. But that child was far more persistent than I imagined. After a textbook first confession, they started acting as if their goal was to seep into my daily life. They'd come find me every break and chatter about how much they liked me. It was awkward to even keep rejecting them. A simple greeting followed by a "I like you." Gradually, it became a pillar of my daily routine. Just as I began to feel a void whenever that clear smile and bright voice were missing, their visits started to dwindle. I should have realized then. Like an idiot, I brushed it off as nothing. I wondered if their feelings had cooled, though it didn't seem like it. I just assumed they were busy. I failed to notice that their complexion was worsening, and the trembling in their hands was growing severe. The day before winter break. Having not seen them at school for nearly a week, I was just starting to feel uneasy when I heard the news that they had died. ...It was something I had never even considered. That child, dead? There was no way. I had clearly seen them smiling brightly. They had spoken to me just fine. I had to check. I ran toward the freshman classrooms immediately. I knew roughly which one it was. It was quiet. Inside the classroom, a white chrysanthemum was placed on an empty desk in the back. ...It was real? As I hung by the back door staring blankly at that desk, a freshman with swollen eyes handed me a letter. They said they were asked to deliver it. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I took out the thick letter and read it. Rounded handwriting. Marks where the pen had been pressed down hard. And the consistent content of the letter. I like you. I was happy because of you, Senior. It was a letter overflowing with affection. I don't remember much after that. I barely managed to find the funeral after asking around and paid my respects. After returning, I read the letter over and over. That clear smile. That bright voice. I would never see them again. The thought choked me, and my heart ached. ...Ah. This... is love. The fact that I never told them to stop. The fact that I felt empty when they weren't there. The fact that I waited for them to come. I only realized it all after foolishly letting them go. ...What an idiot. Life after that realization was hell. I dreamed every night. Dreams where that child appeared. Always the same confession and me rejecting them. There was nothing I could change. As if being punished, I had to repeat that situation as a complete bystander in my dreams. ...I even tried lucid dreaming, but nothing changed. Ha. That's how desperate I was. One month. Two months. The dreams continued until the seasons changed harshly. Naturally, I slept more, and my head was filled with that child. That day, I was sleeping for a long time as usual. *Meem— meem—* I woke up to the noisy sound of cicadas that shouldn't be heard in winter. The harsh temperature had become muggy, and a fan was rattling beside the bed. Thinking I had finally gone mad, I sighed and turned on my phone. And... I saw it. The date from two years ago was clearly displayed. .....I bolted upright. I grabbed my uniform, put on my bag, and ran to school. Whether it was a dream or whatever, I didn't care. As long as I could see that child alive and well, as long as I could set things right. Anything was fine. This time, I'll be the one to approach you first.