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That envelope hanging on my locker caught my attention with unprecedented boldness. It wasn’t tucked away under the locker as usual, as shy as its owner. No. It was visible. To everyone. It was as if the sender wasn’t ashamed to place it on the locker of the famous Reo Mikage. And he took it, and said he would throw it away. But his curiosity got the better of him. He took the envelope home, after putting it in his bag.
He arrived home. He went to his room. He opened the letter, which had been sealed with obvious care. Its scent caught his attention; it carried an alluring fragrance. He brought it close to his nose. Sweet and sharp. Just like his taste.
Finally, I opened it. And what did I find? Beautiful, neat handwriting… and even more beautiful words… tender phrases and sweet language… compliments for him… and flirtatious hints between the lines. Is all this really for him? I was taken aback by this stranger who had written such a lovely letter.
I saw him saying, ‘I loved your purple jumper.’ ‘Hang on, which jumper?’ He tries to remember. ‘Is it that one?’ And he quickens his pace towards his big wardrobe. ‘I’ve looked and looked but can’t find it. Ba-ya must have taken it to the launderette. What a shame—I was going to wear it tomorrow.’ I wonder who he is? Do I know him? Is he handsome? I’ll lose interest if he’s ugly. And he must be taller than me; I really don’t like short men. It’s clear from his writing that he’s a man. A girl wouldn’t be that bold.
I began to look forward to tomorrow with a fresh outlook. My heart was beating with a longing for life.
And here comes tomorrow.I kept daydreaming during my lecture. Even the professor noticed. He caught me out by asking me a question. I didn’t know what to say; I stammered and felt embarrassed. I could hear the sniggers. Oh my God, this is really embarrassing. I sat after he gave me that reproachful look. I’m really sorry. I wasn’t trying to zone out. But those letters… they took over my mind.
Once again, I saw the envelope hanging on my locker. I looked around—was he here? If he were nearby, he might have noticed me, but… no one was there. I put the envelope in my bag to open it at home. Just between me and myself.
I reached my room. I opened the letter, my heart pounding and my breath quickening. My hands were trembling just from opening it. I wonder what it says today? I opened it and, as usual, found kind words. Along with his concern about me daydreaming in class. Wait a minute. Is he a student ? Or a classmate of mine? .No. I don’t think so. My goodness, how worried he was. He asks, ‘Why were you daydreaming… were you tired?’
I don’t know what to say. I was lost in thoughts of you, imagining a future with you. I didn’t expect such beautifully written words. More than anything, I want morning to come quickly. I’m counting down the hours. Hurry up. Why is today moving so slowly? Why won’t it pass quickly? Tomorrow I’ll see who you are. I’ll find out. And I'll catch you, as you hang the envelope on my locker.
Then tomorrow comes. And there’s another envelope. After my lecture, I found it in the same spot. I read it. It says: ‘You were beautiful today, as usual… Why are you rushing? Were you all right? Calm down a bit… I won’t disappear.’ Is he mocking me, then? I look at myself, the blush spreading across my cheeks, reaching my ears. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I was full of anticipation for the unknown tomorrow. I hoped to see that envelope hanging, as usual, on my locker. I hoped for that.
And tomorrow comes; I wish it wouldn’t. I haven’t got out of bed. Because of this stupid illness that came out of the blue. I don’t know—I was fine yesterday. I was looking forward to today. Will those envelopes stop coming and never arrive? Because I haven’t turned up. Maybe they won’t arrive. Maybe the unknown will grow weary. Oh God. Why did I fall ill? Why did the fever strike? I can’t get out of bed, only to return, wrapped up in my duvet. Everything feels cold; my breathing is ragged. I was really looking forward to today.
The next day, I was still in the same state. I shivered at the slightest breeze. Then came the third day, the fourth, and the fifth. I recovered and went out, hoping to find those envelopes hanging on the locker. And I found them. A pile of envelopes. They almost fell off under their own weight.
I took it out carefully and read it in my room. I was taken aback. My eyes widened at what I read. Why all this worry? Why is all this fear written on paper? My eyes scanned the jumbled words. They were no longer in the same order as before. He was worried because I hadn’t gone to university. He says: ‘Where are you? … How are you … My mornings are incomplete without seeing you’… And it goes on to: ‘You’re not here anymore … Is everything alright? … What’s happened to you … I hope you’re well … Where are you … I haven’t seen you for two days … Three days, Reo! … Four! … And it goes on to: ‘I miss you, please come back’.
Oh
Does he miss me? That’s a lot. Words like that to me. He doesn’t know what’s happening to his heart, which is beating faster than before. Nor does he know why the heat has suddenly risen within him. He wants to meet this mysterious man as soon as possible. He wants to throw himself into his embrace. How can such words come from him? Is he a magician? Perhaps a poet. And he is full of happiness and anticipation for tomorrow.
And the days go by. Every day brings a letter sweeter and more delightful than the last. He makes me laugh with the jokes that fill the letter. Hold on, I’m not that annoyed that you’d have to resort to jokes! Then one day, in another letter, he says: ‘You were brilliant giving your presentation.’ Oh my goodness. And he said my explanation was lovely. And brilliant. And these lovely words are just like him. How can it be lovely when I haven’t even seen it?.
I wonder what tomorrow’s letter will be. And that letter comes .I open it. It says: ‘You scent lovely today—it’s striking. Is it a new perfume?’. My scent? So he’s close. Close enough to smell my perfume. I haven’t noticed anyone coming near me today. Yes. My favourite perfume. I rarely use it. It was designed especially for me. And I love it. Hmm, how observant he is. I love that. How he notices the smallest details – it’s so thoughtful of him.
Wonderful. A flush of warmth rises to my cheeks. And the dreams multiply. Fantasies of him and me. What will tomorrow be like? No, the future. What will become of us? Will we meet? I hope so. Rosy dreams he weaves, and even in my sleep I long for the unknown person. I hope I dream of him. I hope he visits me. I hope those letters that fill my days and my life with something that never existed before never cease. I closed my eyes and drifted off into the world of dreams.
Morning came, its light streaming through his large window. He woke up full of energy—for the university, for the corridor, for the locker, and for the letter hanging on it. He found it, and his hunch was right. He opened it slowly, as if he feared something, though he knew there was nothing to fear. It would be flowery words, as usual, from an unknown sender. And he read it.
It was just a single sentence. It read: ‘I like you…will you go out with me?’ He gasped. Impossible. What he wanted had come true, and so quickly. Wait, how would we meet? Where? And when? He hadn’t expected to find the answer at the back. It said: ‘Here. On this day. At this place. At that time.’
Oh, does he even know my favourite spot? And how does he expect me to agree? My breathing calms down. But my heart hasn’t settled. In fact, it’s getting more and more unsettled. What now? I’m excited to see him. And at the same time, I’m confused and I don’t know. Those negative thoughts and feelings have taken hold of me, after I’d been jumping for joy. And now I don’t know. Maybe I’ve overestimated the scale of this. Maybe it’s a joke. But my heart wouldn’t believe that. A joke? How?.I feel that this is real. He looks at the letter again. He really doesn’t know the final decision. He said he might think it over carefully tomorrow.
He lay in bed, tossing and turning, staring absently at the ceiling. Finally, he made up his mind. He would see him, until this heart of his—beating for someone he did not know—could find peace. And he fell asleep, hoping that his wish would come true.
The long-awaited day has arrived. Light streams into his room. He dresses up as usual, but today is different. He dresses up deliberately, to attract admiration. He takes his time getting ready, as if it were his wedding day. Oh, my heart won’t settle; how can I go with my hands trembling like this? His hands run through his hair, then he styles it all over again. His eyebrows are furrowed with tension, which mars his gentle features. Nothing is as it should be. Nothing puts him at ease. His hair isn’t the way he wants it. And when he was satisfied with his appearance, he left. Ba-ya noticed him with a look of surprise and admiration. But she didn’t comment; she just listened to where Reo wanted to go.
He arrived at the spot. Reo got out of the car. He began walking through this park, which he loves. Was it a coincidence? Or did the mysterious figure know his favourite spot and walk there? Then his steps gradually quickened until they were almost a run. When he spotted the figure standing there, he couldn't make out clearly from a distance, and he began to run towards him. Until the other man noticed him too and started running towards Reo. He could see that he was tall, just as he liked. His comfortable clothes. His white hair, flowing in the breeze. And his handsome features, just like his words.
They run. And the heart yearns for its beloved. It is not as though they were strangers. No. That familiarity was always there. And this love that beats within their hearts grows ever stronger. Their footsteps quicken. Their breaths quicken. Their bodies draw closer, and they collide in an intimate embrace that touches their skin. ‘That scent,’ he said. ‘It’s the same as in the letter. It really is the stranger’. And he is no longer a stranger.