“I wonder where this place is……”
I spread my grandfather’s sketch out on the desk.
Not the sea.
Not school.
What was drawn was a small stone bridge, and
a sloping road continuing beyond it.
On the right edge, a big tree.
And on the back, just one line.
“The rest of the dream begins here.”
“My grandfather never told me the location either.”
Yìxiáng said, staring at the sketch.
“But I know this tree.”
“Really?”
“Probably…… Tainan.”
The next morning.
The two of them boarded the Shinkansen and headed for southern Taiwan.
The scenery from the train window felt somehow different from Taipei.
Time flowing slowly.
Wide open sky.
“Taiwan really does have such a different feel, doesn’t it?”
“It’s a city I like too.”
Looking at Yìxiáng’s profile as he laughed and said that,
I found myself staring a little longer than I meant to.
An hour of walking with a map in hand.
At last, I found the same stone bridge as in the sketch.
“This is it…!”
Just as I started to run without thinking,
my foot caught on the cobblestones.
“Eek…!”
My body tipped forward.
At that moment.
Squeeze.
“Careful.”
Yìxiánggrabbed my hand.
Neither too hard nor too soft.
But so warm that I couldn’t help thinking I didn’t want to let go.
“...Thank you.”
“Sorry.”
“Huh?”
“I startled you, didn’t I?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
The truth was.
My heart had been the one that was startled.
Beyond the bridge, there was a small atelier.
It didn’t seem like anyone lived there now, and a sign reading “Preservation Building” hung on the window.
Inside were old art supplies and an easel.
And on the wall, a photograph.
Their two grandfathers in their youth were standing side by side.
On the back of that photo, a sentence written in Japanese.
“Someday, let’s create a place where children can draw freely.”
I gasped without meaning to.
“This is the place of the dream...”
Yìxiáng murmured softly.
“A place where anyone can draw pictures.”
Their grandfathers had cherished such a dream.
But.
War had taken that future away.
Evening.
When we left the atelier, the sky had turned a deep crimson.
I looked at my right hand, which had been held just a little while ago,
but our hands were already apart.
And yet.
Only the warmth was still left behind.
“What’s wrong?”
Yìxiáng asked, looking puzzled.
“Huh?”
“You’ve been staring at your hand the whole time.”
I hurriedly laughed.
“No, it’s nothing.”
Then Yìxiáng’s ears turned a little red too, and he gave a small laugh.
“...Me too.”
“?”
“Still warm.”
With just that one line.
My face grew hotter than the sunset.
On the way back to the hotel.
The two of them walked without saying a word.
But strangely, the silence didn’t feel awkward.
Even without words, just being together felt comfortable.
Before I knew it, we had become that kind of distance.
