Tokyo: Who would still fall in love after being spoiled?

Chapter 127 The high-spirited young man fell into the mud

That was the scene he often imagined when listening to the melody of "Tomorrow Spring".

An uninhabited valley, a cool and moist breeze, a melodious trumpet and the echo of the valley.

As the protagonist, Amano stood at this end, holding his trumpet high, shouting with all his heart...

Whether he put his heart into it or not is debatable - Amano's trumpet playing was as touching as ever, but precisely because of this, he didn't feel any difference from usual.

In his opinion, no one can devote themselves to everything they are experiencing all the time. That is why words like "care" are so precious.

He sat cross-legged on the grass, holding his chin and looking at Amano who was standing under the maple tree playing the trumpet. He listened attentively and thought about all kinds of random and meaningless myths.

After Amano finished playing, he saw that he was in a daze, so he walked over, tapped his head lightly with the trumpet, and then handed it to him to play again.

He still didn't know how to play the same melody as Amano, and Amano also didn't hold him to his own standards.

Just let him blow as much as he wants, blow whatever he thinks of, blow whatever he hears.

The rustle of the wind through the treetops, the flocks of birds flying across the valley, the sound of Amano hitting his head with the trumpet...

He has the skill to translate narrative into trumpet sounds, and it is easy to teach him to play any scene.

He blew the rain, a fine, careless rain, a rain that pattered against the umbrella… Then he blew the snow, a silent snow, a vast expanse of snow, the snow dripping down the eaves after the melted water…

He held an umbrella and walked into the riverside park in the rain. He stood by the river, staring at the water surface being hit by the rain in a daze.

He thought of Zhutian. If he encountered such rain, he would spin in the rain with an umbrella. The umbrella was transparent, so he could look up and watch the raindrops hit the umbrella cloth and the umbrella would open up...

Amano just listened and played for a while when he was tired and resting - she just wanted to find a place like this to teach him to practice playing the trumpet - a small world with special meaning to him, similar to a "secret base".

As for the progress of trumpet practice, it is difficult to say whether there has been any substantial improvement.

He also thought about repeating the same strength, rhythm and melody that Amano had played on a certain occasion, which was not difficult for him to do either.

But a fake is still a fake, just like two closely related snowflakes, no matter how similar they are, they can never be identical. Subtle differences, however, are magnified in this situation, like a tiny crack in a porcelain plate, becoming the focal point of the listener's attention.

He also had to give up his insignificant advantage in playing technique.

He played endlessly through all the narrative melodies he could imagine, and tried to play the duet section from "Tomorrow Spring", changing various narrative details.

Amano standing under the maple tree, Amano standing on the corridor of Hayashi High School, Amano standing on the bridge in the small town, Amano reaching out to him surrounded by fireflies, Amano wearing a formal dress with his eyelids lowered in the piano concert hall...

A long melody of nearly a minute echoed and drifted through the secluded valley...

He remembered that Amano imitated him and wanted to eat a cream bun in three bites; he remembered that after following and observing him for a while, Amano chose to buy bread from the same bakery for the children in the welfare home as afternoon tea; he remembered that after she decided to move, she first asked him to familiarize herself with the streets of the old residential area, and finally chose the house with more than ten cats in the yard.

I have plenty of points now. After school starts after the summer vacation, I should learn badminton and make up for the loss of 2 to 10.

After forming a temporary team with him, Amano became the princess among the girls in the class during physical education class, and she no longer had the trouble of finding someone to form a team with.

If we assume that he wanted to date Amano, then the physical education class where Amano had just transferred to the same school could be considered the only chance in his life for an ordinary high school boy.

It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity...

Similarly, if it weren't for that physical education class, he wouldn't have gone to the trouble of going into the mountains and forests, trekking from early morning to noon, just to find a place to play the trumpet for a while.

The thought of having to travel a long way back soon made him feel physically and mentally exhausted.

If no system emerged, then it wouldn't be any better. Given his approach to life at the time, he would never miss the opportunity to sit on a bench and take a rest.

Amano stood by and listened to him play the whole thing several times. Without any comment, he just nodded and looked at the sky.

"It's time to go back." He didn't care about what kind of evaluation he would get. He followed Amano's gaze and looked towards the direction where the sun was at the moment, and said.

"If you're sure it's safe in the mountains at night, stay a little longer."

"Tomorrow is Obon Festival. Whether you're taking a train or a plane, you should prepare early, right? We've been walking on the mountain roads all day. I'll go to bed early tonight."

"There's still time to rest after returning to Tokyo."

It seems that Amano did go back on the day of Obon.

"There are festivals everywhere at night, at Sensoji Temple, the Sumida River, Omotesando...why not go and see them?"

“It happens every year.”

"But for 'High School Sophomore Amano-san', it's only tomorrow, right?"

He used what A'an had said to preach to Amano, who had the same idea as him.

He didn't care because he had lived long enough, but it was no exaggeration to say that Amano, who was still a sixteen-year-old underage girl, was a mentally ill person for saying such things.

Amano fell silent.

He carried his backpack on a rock nearby, held a trumpet in his hand, and walked ahead.

As a result, although somewhat reluctant, Amano had no choice but to follow.

"Even if you don't consider yourself, Amano-san, you should at least consider me, right?"

"you?"

"I'm also taking a flight from Tottori to Tokyo tomorrow morning, and I want to go to the Sumida River to watch the fireworks tonight." He handed the trumpet to Amano, who had followed him, and said, "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for 'High School Sophomore Inoue-san.'"

The reasons are sufficient and justified.

"I can't believe that Inoue-san would be so enthusiastic about such an opportunity..." Amano looked at him for a long time and exclaimed in amazement.

"I'm a country girl who came to Tokyo from Tottori to attend high school. Isn't it normal for me to be fascinated by all the new things Tokyo has to offer?"

"Anyone who truly thinks this way wouldn't say such a thing, Inoue-san."

"Really?" "You're asking even though you already know the answer."

Amano stuffed the trumpet into its instrument case, put it on his back, and followed him through the forest, turning left and right, heading back slowly in the general direction they came from.

There were no clear paths in this area that could be called roads. For a long time, he led us through the mountains and forests in a certain direction.

It was not until dusk when we returned to the stream and walked through a fir forest in the direction of the mountain that we could see the forest path with occasional human markings.

"No need to rest?" He could continue to walk out of the mountain calmly, but the road went up and down, and he often had to grab rocks or tree roots to climb. Amano beside him was already out of breath.

"Water," Amano simply said.

"Stop for some food? We're still quite a ways from town." He handed over the water. "I'm tired too."

Amano didn't say anything else.

He leaned casually against a fir tree trunk and rummaged through his backpack for food.

There were two rice balls, two pears, a bar of chocolate, and a box of biscuits left, which we opened and shared while taking a break.

I buried the pear cores next to the tree roots and put the rest of the garbage into my backpack.

"Leave the trumpet to me."

"You still have a hiking bag."

"It's empty." Amano was still a little resistant, but in order to speed up the journey, he had to change his attitude. "I can walk just as fast with my trumpet and backpack on my back. Now I have to wait for you from time to time."

"...The way you talk is really unpleasant, Inoue-san." Amano stared at him for a while, sighed softly, and gave up.

"Really..." He remained noncommittal.

Precisely because it was Amano, he felt comfortable using all kinds of words and tones.

If she didn't understand the meaning behind whatever he said, how could he be so casual?

Walking on the hillside facing the town, the sunset completely went down the mountain.

He stopped briefly, squinted his eyes and stared for a long time, then took a few photos with his mobile phone.

Amano was waiting by the side, holding a simple hiking pole that he had sharpened by cutting a thicker branch with a knife.

"Want to draw?"

"This picture may be of use some day—or so it seems, if I may be honest."

"Collect materials."

"perhaps."

Passing by the melon field, he returned the small box to Amano, went in, picked two watermelons that didn't make too much sound when tapped, stuffed them into his backpack, and took them home.

The next morning I had to take a train to the airport, so time was tight and I didn't have time to pick the melons.

"Aren't you tired, Inoue?" Amano was surprised that he picked two watermelons and carried them back after walking on the mountain road for a whole day.

"My feet are sore and my calves are stiff, but I feel energetic." He patted his backpack and smiled back.

During my first year in Tokyo, I dedicated my daily exercise time to illustration work, and didn’t resume morning exercises until this summer.

After a day of climbing today, he could feel that his physical fitness had declined. He had not yet recovered to the state where he could play as the main player of the football team in junior high school. But not to mention compared with the boys of the Kitakura Football Club, he was at least many times stronger than Miss Amano, who looked frail.

"I can't tell." Amano pretended to look at him and sighed deliberately.

"But my feet and legs are indeed sore, but it's bearable to this extent." He responded casually.

"I mean the second half."

"Can't you tell?" He straightened his back, quickened his pace, calmly kept a distance, and then stopped to wait for her.

"Not right now," Amano smiled back. It was too dark to tell if it was a mockery or genuineness. "From the first time I met you until now, I've never seen you so energetic, Inoue-san."

"We've only known each other for a few days. The future is long, and there will always be a time when I'm full of energy and ambition. I'll take a picture and show it to you then. Do you want an autograph?"

He was three or five meters ahead of Amano, moving backwards through the rice fields.

"High-spirited?" This time he was definitely mocking her. He could even hear Amano Suzu's laughter. "Sorry, I really can't associate this word with Inoue-san."

What's going on with this guy? He's really underestimating himself.

"In a sense, poor students who have achieved basic academic goals all have moments of high spirits. Why shouldn't I have that?" He couldn't help but feel provoked and questioned aloud.

"Yes, after a period of hard work, poor students are successfully admitted to higher education. Naturally, they are very proud of achieving their goals." Amano restrained his smile, watched him continue to retreat, and said softly, "But, Inoue-san.

"Where were you when you were full of energy and vigor?"

"I--" He was about to answer when he suddenly missed a step, lost his balance, and fell backwards with a loud bang.

He fell on the slope where the rice paddy meets the path and ended up rolling into the rice paddy. Watermelon was fine, but he was covered in mud.

"Why didn't you remind me?" He was rarely angry.

"Sorry... I didn't make it in time." Amano walked closer with a smile still on his face and extended his hand to him.

"...Thank you." He also extended his muddy hand.

Amano couldn't help but hesitate, and his little hand changed to a trekking pole.

(End of this chapter)