It was the sky after the rain. I was leaning against the pillar in the corridor and looking at the gray sky.
He heard footsteps coming from the corner of the corridor and the familiar spiritual pressure. I know you're back. That was the day after your family was killed in a virtual attack. You came to my home. When I looked back, I only saw you saying to me gently, "It's okay, Anai, don't worry anymore." But I saw a pair of black-rimmed glasses on your gentle face. I can't see your face clearly under the sunlight. Blurred everything.
I stood up and looked into your eyes through the lenses, only to find that I couldn't see the bottom. Gradually, my eyes became blurry, blurring your face and blurring my sight.
This is what is called distance. The distance between us no longer seems to be the distance between glasses; it is the distance between hearts; it is the distance between mutual understanding. So far away that you can barely touch it
You once said, "Longing is the emotion furthest from understanding."
I have never admired you, but I have never understood you either. It's always so unreal. It's like a mirror, a flower in the water, a moon in the water.