The Day I Heard the Color

In April, when the cherry blossoms were blooming, Sakura Sata discovered that the world was quietly fading, and only the brush could retain the fleeting light, shadow and traces. In the art club, he met Natsume Aya, who used a voice recorder to collect the sounds of the world - a girl who could hear melody from the wind and capture the temperature from silence. An urban renewal project breaks the tranquility. The century-old chrysanthemum tree on the campus is about to be transplanted, and the old neighborhoods will also disappear. In order to protect these irreplaceable memories, Souta and Aya join hands to form a sensory recording team with the rational Vice President of the Student Union Kaito Uehara, the cold-eyed photographer Ren Morikawa, the passionate track and field girl Hoshino Aoi, and the data-obsessed science student Fujiwara Murasaki. They use paintings to capture color levels, use recordings to preserve sound textures, use data to analyze ecological connections, and use cross-sensory tacit understanding to build a unique "proof of existence" for the soon-to-be-disappeared chun trees, old streets, and youthful daily life. In this gentle resistance, there is the resonance of the soul, the perseverance of youthful spirit, and the persistence of "unquantifiable value" - proving that those memories, emotions and life connections that have been ignored in the era of efficiency first are the most precious background of the world. When the transplant machine approaches, they use a silent sensory ceremony to allow colors and sounds to meet, allowing memories and love to last forever. This is a youth narrative about recording and resistance, growth and bondage, and it is also a gentle confession of every cherished thing.