To Kiyoshi Teppei.

My dearest friend,

I wouldn't bother with all the formalities, because you know me better than the façade I put on.

From the very beginning, I have hated that cheesy smile of yours.

Since the moment we met, I have hated that broad, kind smile on your face.

It is exactly how I imagined real sunshine to be, gentle, warm yet somewhat melancholic, it brought this glowing, fluffy touch to my heart, the kind of feeling you get drinking lukewarm hot chocolate on a cold winter night. I scoffed at myself for having thoughts like these, as you know I have never left this hospital since the day I was born.

The only contact I had with the sun's rays is when I held out my hand to catch the little warmth left after they filtered through the thick window glass and its dust covered surface.

Neither have I been through any cold winter nights, nor have I tasted hot chocolate in my life.

But like I said, I despise that smile of yours.

I have always seen a crude imitation of that smile whenever I looked into the mirror. Slowly I have come to realize the reason why my own smile was just a flawed counterfeit of yours. Your smile existed to console and protect others, while my smile only existed to protect myself. I was always scared that they will cut off my lifeline so I had to put on that painstakingly polite masquerade, but you were different, through that smile you told little white lies that provided solace to your friends and family, something that I could never do.

I can never read that smile of yours. Remember that time just after I learnt that the success rate of this operation will be low? It still makes me laugh when I think of how my plan really backfired. I knew that no matter what happens, you will still stick with me until the end, yet I tried to push you away because I didn't want to get hurt because of me.

I kissed my cousin, it was timed perfectly so that you will see us when you entered my room, I didn't dare to look at your expression because somewhere deep down inside I actually held a selfish wish that you will see through my act.

And when I looked up you had the same smile on your face albeit there was a stronger tint of sadness in your eyes than usual. The first emotion that reached me was a sense of relieve, but after a second I got really jealous because of your lack of reaction to me kissing someone other than you. (By the way, it wasn't really a kiss. I had my thumb over his lips.)

I hate those large, warm hands of yours.

Remember how I kept pestering you to compare the length of our hands? It was just an excuse to feel the warmth of your large, rough hands calloused by all the hard work you've put yourself through. You always see through those lies and entwine your fingers with my thin, cold ones. Even when I pretended to be annoyed, you will only tighten your hold against my small palms.

I hate your hands, because I get addicted to their warmth, and it makes it hard for me to let go.

When you held my hand, I liked to close my eyes and lean against your strong, broad shoulder. I would imagine that we were in a park rather than this prison of whiteness; I would imagine that I could smell the faint scent of grass and warm soil instead of the disinfectant, the chirping of birds instead of the beeping of machines.

Sometimes I would be mean and ask you to make impossible promises. But you always played along. Do you still remember? You promised to bring me to watch one of your basketball matches one day.

Even though we both knew it was an impossible feat, I am contended with excitement of just looking forward to it.

If you are reading this letter then it can only mean one thing, fate has already forcefully pulled my hands out of yours.

I don't really care where I would be gone, because any place without you is painful. But I am thankful of the short time we had together.

In the short span of a few months, you have changed my prison into a sanctuary.

I have decided to write it down here, the words that could never come out of my prideful self.

Thank you.

I will always be wishing for your happiness, and from wherever I am, I will be watching you and your team become Japan's number one.

Yours forever,

The girl in the next room

P.S. I'm drinking water as I'm writing so I might have spilt a few droplets here and there, hopefully the ink wouldn't have smudged by the time this letter reaches you.

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Haha.

I guess I just can't be honest with myself until the very end.

I can imagine how you will be smiling and asking whether I have really said what I meant to say. Please forgive me for being so selfish, I might have no rights to be saying this now but –

I love your cheesy smile.

I love your big, gentle hands.

I love you.