Sputnik Sweetheart

I imagined how wonderful it would be if indeed we could be lovers. I longed for the warmth of her skin on mine. I pictured us married, living together.

Art of the Fugue

I hardly ever had a heart-to-heart conversation with my family.

I didn’t want any grief from my parents, so I went through the motions of going to school, doing the minimum amount of study and homework to get by.

From the bottom of my heart

Sumire and I were very alike. Devouring books came as naturally to us as breathing.

Miu smiled. A nostalgic, intimate smile, like a treasured old possession pulled out of the back of a drawer. Her eyes narrowed in an utterly charming way. She reached out and, with her long, slim fingers, gently ruffled Sumire’s already tousled hair. It was such a sudden yet natural gesture that Sumire could only return the smile.

Compared to that, studying literature in college is like biting down on the bitter end of a cucumber.

don’t pointless things have a place, too, in this far-from-perfect world? Remove everything pointless from an imperfect life and it’d lose even its imperfection

All I had was—me. Same as always.