How many times have you passed by someone, never knowing you will deeply cherish that person?

Passerby –A Short Story-

Everyday the minutes ticks by relentlessly but the only thing I worry about is the train schedules so that I wouldn't get late for class. My patience runs thin as I wait for the train to arrive.

Time quickly passes by yet I am currently here, waiting and waiting and waiting.

But when I go on the train, time seems to stop for a while. Time stops and what I do is examining people and guess their life stories as if they themselves are books of fairytales.

A business man who is troubled by thin hair, a small boy going on his first errand, and a girl who has a violin case in her hands. Then the next things I do are take out a notebook and write a story.

I write because everyone has a story to tell.

XX Passerby XX

I never went to a normal school before. Ever since I was born into this world my life was filled with music. The sounds of everything make music. So my world was constantly filled with nothing more.

But today, a crack in my world allowed me to notice that a boy was staring at me. Through the cracks of my ideal world, there he was staring at me.

I ride this train everyday but today, I met eyes with a boy.

XX Passerby XX

Fate. Love. Those things just make me sick.

Love and those things seem so unreal in my world yet they are always there in stories.

But a girl, a girl whom I must have passed by a hundred times. A passerby however; that day, that hour, that minute, that second, she was simply not a passerby.

Love. I feel sick just thinking about it. But that day, I felt it just a tiny bit.

XX Passerby XX

I don't really have many relationships with others or know any forms of love. But the only thing I knew about was music.

I ride the train at around the same time each day to go to my teacher's apartment for practice. Each and every day I ride the train, so why is it today that I notice him? Why is it today that my heart starts beating because of a high school boy who happened to meet my eyes?

I didn't understand any forms of love, until I met the boy with a notebook and pen.

XX Passerby XX

I always wondered whether or not the act of blushing even existed. But now, today, I have confirmed that such an action does exist.

When I met eyes with the girl with the violin, I swear she flushed a deep pink. Flustered, she looked away quickly and I too couldn't help but feel embarrassed for staring at her.

My heart suddenly skipped a beat as I looked away from the flustered girl. And my heart continued to beat in that irregular pattern as I silently looked down at my feet.

All stories have some form of love and now, even love exists in mine.

XX Passerby XX

His name. His age. His everything.

I wanted to know.

But I was too scared to ask him such things.

As the days passed by, I noticed him there, at that station, at that platform, at that same time. Just seeing him makes my heart flutter and my cheeks flush.

I never knew any forms of love. Just this one.

This special sort of love.

XX Passerby XX

I see her everyday give me glances. But I too cannot help but glance at her.

I hate the idea of love. However, foolishly I here now desperately love a girl.

How many times do you pass a person before you will one day deeply cherish that person?

Hundreds of times.

So let me gain courage. The courage for the strength to see you.