The first time she saw him was in winter.
Unusually, it was raining that day.
'Shouldn't it be snowing in winter, not raining?' Kita Ikuyo had always thought so.
That's why she never carried an umbrella in winter.
A senior from sixth grade had once told her that winter was the end of the four seasons.
So many, so many...
So many beautiful things would retreat into the earth, or freeze to death in that invisible, intangible, yet palpable winter cold.
Kita Ikuyo had always believed that there was nothing beautiful to be found outside during winter.
She had always believed this, until today.
In her yellow-green eyes, she saw a boy sitting dazedly on a bench.
He wore what was once a white shirt, now stained with splatters of paint.
It could be described as multicolored, but it had nothing to do with dazzling brilliance.
Dim and fragile, he sat in the rain like a delicate flower being battered by raindrops.
Drip, drip, drip.
Kita Ikuyo, sheltering under the convenience store's eaves, couldn't tear her gaze away.
He tilted his face upward, his purple eyes staring blankly at the sky.
Raindrops struck his eyes, then flowed down his cheeks like tears.
He couldn't see.
In that moment, Kita Ikuyo suddenly understood.
So, on this same day, she emptied all the spare change from her pockets and walked into the convenience store.
Under the clerk's indifferent gaze, she bought an umbrella.
Then she walked toward the boy in the distance.
As she drew closer, Kita Ikuyo finally got a clear look at him again.
It had been so long...
His pale skin radiated a sickly, almost faded beauty. Splatters of colorful paint, matching the stains on his clothes, dotted his face. His soft black hair, soaked by the rain, clung to his cheeks. Kita Ikuyo's heart inexplicably tightened. She slowly approached the boy, opened the umbrella, and shielded him from the falling rain.
The boy seemed to sense someone nearby. He turned his head in confusion, his purple eyes silently fixed on Kita Ikuyo.
It was a joke, of course. He couldn't actually see her.
It was as if he were trapped inside a pitch-black box, his purple eyes rejecting all the beauty of the outside world, all tangible things.
Kita Ikuyo suddenly felt a pang of sympathy.
'How pitiful... If that's the case, he can't see any of the world's beauty at all.'
"Hello..."
The boy's voice was monotone.
'He's like this... He's been rejected by all the world's beauty.'
'Why...?'
"Hello..."
Kita Ikuyo's lips trembled as she gazed at the boy. Slowly, she reached out and gently touched his cheek.
"How... how are you still so beautiful?"
"...What?"
The boy's voice carried a hint of confusion.
Kita Ikuyo shook her head.
"Never mind. I said something strange. You can't see, can you?"
"No, I can't."
The boy's voice remained expressionless.
"I'm Kita Ikuyo. What's your name?"
"Nekoyashiki Haru."
"Why don't you take shelter from the rain?"
Kita Ikuyo sat down beside Nekoyashiki Haru, ignoring the soaking bench.
"...It feels... kind of nice..."
Nekoyashiki Haru said, extending his hand to catch raindrops in the air.
"Shape... temperature... the moment it touched me, I could feel something, even if it was just a little."
"..."
Kita Ikuyo pursed her lips.
"Do you like to draw?"
"I used to love it," Nekoyashiki Haru replied.
"What about now?" Kita Ikuyo narrowed her eyes.
"Now..." Nekoyashiki Haru fell silent.
"You don't like it anymore?" Kita Ikuyo's foot tapped lightly against the ground.
"Someone told me that in winter, all beautiful things disappear."
"Whether they exist or not makes no difference to me."
"I know... you were rejected," Kita Ikuyo said, looking down.
"What are you doing here again? If it's curiosity about me, shouldn't that be satisfied by now?" Nekoyashiki Haru issued his dismissal.
"You can go home now. Take your umbrella, have a warm bath, and get a good night's sleep."
Nekoyashiki closed his eyes, and Kita Ikuyo suddenly felt her heart skip a beat.
"If you stay here any longer, you might catch a cold."
"Are you worried about me?"
"Maybe."
"Why?"
"What?"
Nekoyashiki Haru tilted his head in confusion as Kita Ikuyo pressed.
"Why... would you worry about me?"
"...Do you really need an answer?"
"Yes."
"I don't want anyone to suffer because of me."
Nekoyashiki Haru's fingers twisted together.
"Whether you're curious about me, or feel pity or concern, please don't suffer because of me. That wouldn't make me happy."
"...Isn't that beautiful?"
"What?"
"Never mind..."
Kita Ikuyo shook her head, then repeated herself.
"Never mind."
She fell silent beside Nekoyashiki Haru, not saying another word.
"...How old are you?"
"Eleven."
"I'm twelve."
"When did you lose your sight?"
"You're picking at old wounds."
"Sorry."
"Hmm, I forgive you."
Nekoyashiki Haru nodded.
"Five."
"That's been a long time..."
"A very long time."
Nekoyashiki Haru fell silent, but Kita Ikuyo smiled.
"What should I call you?"
"Anything is fine."
"How about 'Little Kitten'?"
"...Whatever you want," Nekoyashiki Haru said.
"Then, Little Kitten... do you still want to draw?"
"It's not about wanting to, but whether I can."
"But, Little Kitten..."
Kita Ikuyo leaned closer to Nekoyashiki Haru and whispered in his ear, "Just try. Chasing your dreams is a beautiful thing."
"I can't."
"You can. I want you to."
An unnatural flush spread across Kita Ikuyo's cheeks as she grasped Nekoyashiki Haru's hand and said, almost pleadingly, "Why..."
Nekoyashiki Haru tilted his head, puzzled.
"What?"
Kita Ikuyo smiled. "Why do you ask?"
"Why are you telling me all this? We only just met, didn't we?"
"Hmm... because... I've already been captivated by you."
"...You're a strange person."
"Ahaha... I know, I know. Everyone says I'm strange, but I'm actually quite popular."
Kita Ikuyo smiled and placed Nekoyashiki Haru's hand on her cheek.
"Please, touch me carefully. Please memorize every detail of my face."
Why is it that you, who were rejected by beauty, are so beautiful yourself?
Perhaps they're all jealous of your greater beauty.
I understand.
Kita Ikuyo stepped closer and hugged Nekoyashiki Haru, bringing her crimson hair to his nose.
"Please, inhale deeply. Please memorize my scent forever..."
Every year... every year... every year...
Your white shirt is always stained with paint.
I know you haven't let go, so let me help you...
Help you fulfill your wish, help you unravel the knot in your heart.
In contrast, your beauty will be mine to possess.