Prologue: A Memory from Sometime
♭
—There are memories I no longer recall clearly.
It’s a story from when I was in elementary school. There was a house in the neighborhood—probably, I was the only one who knew a girl around my age lived there. Why? Because our district still had a system of passing around a community newsletter, and I was in charge of delivering it. That’s when I first met her face-to-face.
Honestly, I can hardly remember what she looked like. …But at the very least, back then, I was instantly captivated by her, and in the brief moment of handing over the newsletter, I desperately tried to strike up a conversation. Gradually, she started opening up about herself, too, even grumbling about how she couldn’t go outside much despite not being sick or anything.
That’s when it started. I began secretly taking her out, calling it “kidnapping.”
Of course, looking back now, it was just a playful, trivial act of rebellion. But even so, that act was undeniably special to us. So when she left for Academy Island, I was overwhelmed by a sense of loss I couldn’t recover from, and even now, as a high school student, those memories still flicker in my mind.
That’s why—surely, that must have been what they call “first love.”
