When did it start? The moment you began to bother me so much. Back in my immature childhood, I couldn't even begin to understand you, always walking around with that bright smile. It felt like we lived in completely different worlds to begin with.

Rejecting the hand of "salvation" you held out, I walked into "despair" of my own accord. I tried to push you away even by going that far, but what do you even know—you followed me right into the depths of that pit of despair. It was absurd. What am I to you that you'd go this far?

I hated you. If I had stayed in the darkness without a shred of hope, I could have suffered alone. But you followed me anyway. And you—looking at me with that innocent face.

My heart thudded. It was strange. I ignored it, telling myself it definitely wasn't a feeling like love. Between friends and lovers—or maybe neither—we maintain a precarious line, and I thought it could never be 'love,' at least that's what I believed.

You're probably the only person who would crawl all the way into the place where I live just to stay by my side. Though your foolishness and innocence are a problem. Well, I suppose it's not so bad.

...Hey, idiot. Let's go to the sea.

I saw your hair fluttering in the wind. Your white nape, visible through your disheveled hair, was etched clearly into my vision. I turned my head away, letting out a fake cough for no reason.