Ten years ago, when he left this island, it was a similarly windy morning. At that time, he was still wearing his school uniform, and the backpack on his shoulders was bulging, filled with textbooks and cakes made by his mother overnight. The wooden sign beside the pier reads the word "Island Kou". The writing is somewhat blurred by the sea wind and sea water, as if it will be swallowed up by the next storm at any time.
