When she was seventeen years old, Sakura Ritsu met a girl who was standing on tiptoes to reach for a book in the library. She couldn't reach the top layer, so he pretended to be passing by and pulled it down for her. Later, they started borrowing the same book and writing small words on the loan card to convey messages. When it rained, he put away his umbrella and waited for her to say "Let's go together."
The love letter was written in three editions. The place to confess under the cherry blossom tree has been chosen. Then he heard—she had a boyfriend.
It was very windy that day. He tore up the love letter and scattered it as he walked, the scraps of paper chasing him for a long time.
Later he became a policeman. Search for a lesson and deal with other people's stories every day.
At the age of twenty-five, there was a fire in the fishery factory. Seventeen people were killed. The list of injured turned to the third page, and he saw her name on the bottom line.
The wards in the resettlement center are very white. She was on the innermost bed. She had lost a lot of weight. There was a small pale pink scar on the left side of her face. Her whole body was as quiet as a plant that was still panting after being burned.
He would take a detour to the convenience store after get off work every day, buy the same brand of rice balls and put them on her bedside. He would put them down and leave without explaining or saying anything. Then she spoke. Later she cried. Later——
Someone told him: You are not from the same world.
He listened.
He listened for three years.
Three years later, it was very windy on the Kamakura beach. He was wearing a suit, with a photographer and his fiancée behind him. In the distance, there was a woman bending down to collect the fishing net. Her hair rope was blown away by the wind. She raised her hand to gather it - and turned back.
Everyone thought he would stand still.
He didn't.
This is a fire that has been burning for ten years, and a tide that has finally surged up.
Concept: Some injuries have been burned for a long time. If you don't touch them, they won't hurt. You touch it and it starts to hurt. But the pain is over—the tide will rise. It took Lu ten years to understand: what he hated back then was not her lies, but what he hated was that he didn't take one more step in front of the lies. At seventeen, he was too respectable to ask questions. At the age of twenty-five, he finally learned to run towards someone without dignity. The tide doesn't ask why the beach is scarred, it just comes up, covers it, and then goes back. The more times you cover it, the shallower the scar becomes.
