The next day, she came up to me before class even started.
He holds a neatly folded jacket in his hands.
— I came back to you. Thank you for giving it to me," Miyako smiled a little, but somehow… embarrassed.
"You could have left it,— I said. "It suited you better than it suited me."
"Then maybe sometime.".. I'll borrow it again.
She put her jacket on the desk, turned away, and sat down next to him, as usual.
I took the jacket to put it in my backpack, and I felt something rustling inside.
Leaf.
I pulled it out.
Small, folded in half. Inside is a neat handwriting in black ink.
"You don't have to read if you don't want to. But if you're reading, you know, I felt very good then.
And I'm afraid I'm getting used to this feeling.
With you.
— Miyako"
I read it.
Then again.
And I realized that my heart was doing something it shouldn't do again: it was speeding up every time I talked about her.
After lessons
I caught up with her at the entrance.
"You... left something."
—I know," she replied without looking at him. — It's just… I was scared to say it to my face. It's easier that way.
"Then I'll tell you to your face."
She stopped.
— It was good for me too.
With you.
And I don't mind... if you get used to that feeling.
This time, she smiled. For real now.
"Then I'll get used to it." Carefully. But with pleasure.