Dear Mr. Arima Kousei,
Writing to someone who was just by my side, really is a strange sensation.
You really are an overbearing guy.
dense. block-headed. a total idiot.
The first time I saw you perform, was when I was 5. It was during a recital hosted by my piano school. There was a flustered kid that walked on stage. His butt bumped the chair of it’s legs. The audience was speechless. But when facing such an enormous piano, after the first note resonated through the hall, You became everything I yearn for.
The melody was like a 24 color pallet, radiating with color. The notes were dancing in the air.
The kid sitting next to me even started crying. It scared me a bit.
It would’ve been fine like that, but you had to abandon performing on the piano. Always inconveniencing others, you overbearing idiot, dense, idiot, block-head.
After I found out we were attending the same school, my heart felt endless butterflies, wondering what i could do to start a conversation with you. Maybe I could start buying an egg sandwich from the cafeteria.
But in the end, all I did was glance at you from a distance, because everyone’s relationship looks so intimate and natural. It didn’t look like there was a place for me.
When I was little, I went through surgery. After that, I had scheduled visits to the hospital. Not long after the initial fall, I had another incident, which started a life of frequent and long hospital stays.
The time I spent in the hospital felt agonizingly long. There was almost no opportunity for me to attend class. I knew my condition was worsening. Until one night, during a typical hospital day, in the waiting room, I saw tears running down from my mom and dad’s face.
That’s when I realized my time was running out.
From that moment onward, I.. started running forward.
To make sure I had no regrets, I started living my life to the fullest.
I wore the contact lenses I never had the courage to wear.
I stopped repressing my giant appetite for the sake of looking thin.
I performed how I wanted to perform instead of how others wanted me to perform.
And then, I told a lie.
This lie was that, Miyazono Kaori had feelings for Watari Ryota.
That lie was a success. Arima Kousei, it finally brought you to me.
Please apologize to Watari for me, but since it’s Watari, he’d probably soon forget all about me. After all, I realized that I like people who wholeheartedly focus on a single person better. But Watari is still an amazing friend.
Also, apologize to Tsubaki-chan for me. The two of us walk the same path, because I didn’t want her to hate me, I didn’t apologize to her directly. Back then, if I directly asked her to “introduce me to Arima Kousei,” she wouldn’t have given me a good response, because to Tsubaki-chan, her most precious person in the world is you. Everyone knew that long ago. The only people who didn’t know were you and Tsubaki-chan.
The you who came to me because of my lie is very different compared to the you in imagination.
The real you is more dark.
Your sound is also more melancholic.
but more manlier than in my imagination.
But what matched that of my imagination, is how gentle a person you are, from the time we jumped into the river, the cold comfortable feeling running down my spine, to when we tried to catch the train, which I felt like we could have succeeded, the late nights we spent in the music room, gazing at the bun-like full moon, when I rode the back of the bike, and we sang “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”, how we were out of tune. It was really not very good music. School at night, that was definitely something. The snow, just like cherry blossoms.
Even though I’m a musician, my heart is always filled with thing unrelated to the stage. It’s such a strange feeling. Isn’t that weird?
What about you?
Did I make my way to a certain someone’s heart?
Did I make it to your heart?
Even if it’s just a little, will you remember our time together?
You can forget about the nasty stuff, but please, don’t forget about me. Promise me you won’t.
You’re really an amazing person.
I hope my feelings will reach you.
I really hope it reaches you.
I'm glad it was you.
Arima Kousei, I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
I'm sorry we couldn't eat all those canelés.
I'm sorry I hit you so much.
I'm sorry I was so selfish.
I'm so, so, so, so sorry.
Thank you for everything.
P.s. My treasure is also in the envelope. If you don’t feel like keeping it, please dispose of it