A Boat Sets Sail with No Shore, Words Behind the Curtain with No Sound

The rain in the south always carries a dampness that never quite fades. It sweeps over the ginkgo trees at Yu County Middle School, and over the feelings the boys and girls hide in notes. Their first encounter is a fleeting glimpse beside a puddle. Then comes a clumsy attempt to get closer under someone else's name. Whispered words between classes and a pink notebook all become secret preludes.

The cheers at the sports meet, tentative advances in the dusk, and a paper-folded confession during the noon study period shatter the unspoken understanding that they were more than friends. The countdown to the high school entrance exam weighs down their budding feelings. She deliberately keeps her distance; he holds back and lets her go. The tenderness hidden in morning runs and long jumps ultimately cannot withstand the pull of time.

Later, the wind dies down and the rain stops. He carries the feelings of his youth far away, continuing his story in a new life, with new scenery around him. Her realization comes too late, and all she finds is an empty memory.

The rain has yet to dry, the notes have yellowed, the boat sets off with no shore in sight, and the words behind the curtain fall silent. That youth, when they both reached for each other but were ultimately out of sync, becomes a regret she is trapped in alone, unable to resolve. The words "I like you too" remain in the illusion of memory, never to receive an answer.