It was a corner of a dormitory room lit only by a single candle.

At 17:00, as the sunset glow seeped through the curtains and tickled the skin beneath my eyes, I was writing a letter to you.

I couldn't bring myself to use the precious fountain pen you gave me as a gift, so I kept it safely tucked away and bought another one from the same brand to use instead. I got stuck right at the first sentence, deciding how to address you. 'Captain', 'Guest', 'My Love', and so on. Some were too classic, some felt distant, and some were things you would tease me for. I wouldn't mind being the target of your teasing, but this is my sincere heart.

Ah, it came to me. Let's go with 'My Captain'. It was an excellent choice.

I continued to write without further hesitation. I decided to pretend the pile of crumpled papers didn't exist.

Then, after sealing it, I pressed my lips very softly against the envelope for the perfect finish, just as I would to you. So that my sincerity might be conveyed.

Ah, Captain. My Captain. Even my neck, which was once wrapped in your hands, remembers that warmth. When will you arrive, my Captain?