A boy who I liked loved games, music, soccer, and so on.
He was good soccer player and had excellent grades in school.

He was funny, kind to everyone, good at sports and studies. He was always surrounded by his friends and I hardly had chance to talk to him in school.

We were just 10.

I was not able to read all Kanji, didn't have mobile phone,
didn't know what they did after kissing,
or the meaning of "last train",
or why they drank alcohol.


I only knew the narrow world of my family, friends, and school.

But somehow I clearly liked him.

I, in contrast to him, was queit and didn't have so many friends.
I could not do any sports well, and was not good at studying. I always found my name at the bottom of the "grade list".

The time when I played piano was special for me.
It took me the world where is just me and melody I played. I felt as if I was main character of story.

I went to music room after the class at least twice a week. There were just me and my music, my world.

One day, there came him.

" You are always here, right?"

He asked me.

"Yes, but how did you know that?
You look busy with soccer."

" When I'm playing soccer in the ground, I always hear good sound from somewhere.
I've been wondering who played that.

Now I found the answer."

He said and smiled.

He walked in my world suddenly, but it was not uncomfortable.

" I like your piano."

What he said was the happiest ever.

But I wished the word after "I like" was my name.
I looked out the window to hide what I was thinking.

　　　

The leaves of a cherry tree had already turned green.

Summer was almost there.