Opening the door and stepping outside, a chilly wind woke me up from my drowsiness. Even though it was March, the winter chill was still very much present. The morning weather forecaster on the TV had said that spring’s warmth would arrive soon, but I knew it would be a while before I felt it.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, the biting cold wind, which sent fallen leaves swirling, blew away my sleepiness along with it. My face, which moments ago had that intimidating, half-asleep look, had now disappeared.
I couldn’t afford to show half-closed, sleep-deprived eyes to him. Yuran would accept me with all my flaws, but my pride as a woman wouldn’t allow me to show him an imperfect face.
While thinking about all this, I suddenly remembered that day.
The day I heard Yuran’s true feelings.
That day still felt like yesterday, but time had a way of moving quickly, turning it into a story from about a month ago. Time seemed to accelerate as I grew older, and it had felt even faster since I met Yuran.
As a famous mathematician once said, “If you place your hand on a hot stove for a minute, it feels like an hour. But spend an hour with a cute girl, and it feels like a minute.”
I’m not a genius, so I don’t understand the mathematical theory he was talking about, but I love such playful metaphors.
Thinking back to that day, I was genuinely glad I got to hear Yuran’s true feelings. If I hadn’t known the core of Yuran’s trauma, I would undoubtedly have hurt him, like his sister…
Yuran never spoke about his sister. That’s because, for Yuran, his sister was the source of his trauma and a symbol of fear.
So, I didn’t ask. Not knowing might prevent me from triggering Yuran’s wounds.
I’m happy now.
The days I spend with Yuran are filled with happiness.
That’s why I’m not asking for anything more. Deep down, I want to kiss Yuran and even have s*x, but if I seek more happiness than I have now, this relationship might crumble.
My love and Yuran’s feelings are currently in balance. However, if either of those tips, the equilibrium will collapse, like a seesaw with uneven weights. I would undoubtedly be the one thrown off the seesaw. Yuran would probably manage to live without me, but I wouldn’t…
A voice pierced through the cold air, reaching my ears.
This voice, I love it.
It makes me pause and freeze in my tracks.
I love it because it’s Yuran’s voice.
I’ve been mostly looking at the ground, lost in my thoughts, but I gradually raise my gaze upward. Slowly, little by little.
And after a long time, my gaze reaches its destination: Yuran.
“Ginro-san! Hurry up! We’ll be late!”
I didn’t want to show my sleepy face to him, but I didn’t need to. Even without the freezing wind, just seeing Yuran’s face would chase away my sleepiness. I had forgotten even such obvious things about myself and was filled with amazement as I ran toward Yuran, kicking the ground with determination.
In early March, we weren’t the only ones shivering from the cold. While spring’s warmth hadn’t arrived yet, my heart was always warm when I was with him.