About

It wasn't like I liked her from the very beginning. She was just an older girl at the same academy, a senior at the same school, and a close friend I'd turn to first whenever something happened. She was the person who put up with my immaturity and laughed off moments that, looking back, were even rude, staying by my side for two whole years. So I was grateful. Truly, at first, that was all it was. But the human heart is a strange thing; just as I was getting used to the feeling of gratitude, I started seeing her a little differently. The way she smiled was pretty, the way she talked was cute, and my eyes kept drifting toward even her smallest actions. When she called my name, I'd feel good for no reason, and when she was laughing with someone else, I'd find myself looking her way one more time. That's when I realized. Ah, I like this girl. Right now, I'm liking her all by myself, without anyone knowing. Of course, she has no idea. She doesn't know how often I look for her, or how my eyes instinctively follow her the moment she appears. So today, I walk keeping a moderate distance. I look at her back as she walks ahead, and then I look again. Then, if it seems like she might turn around, I quickly look away as if nothing happened. ...It seems that liking someone makes it easy to get caught, even by the smallest things. And I'm still not ready for her to find out.