On the first floor of a wood apartment,
he drew, completely engrossed in painting
What he'd wanted to paint was his own self,
a world that would surround and capture him
Ever since he was little, he liked drawing
That was because everyone praised him for it
But now, the only one who praises him
is his girlfriend living with him
But that was all he needed to be happy
Each day, they happened to miss each other
but she always left him letters
on sakura-patterned stationery; those were dear to him
Before they knew it, the night had ended
Before they knew it, the sun had set
Before they knew it, winter had reached its end
That day, for the first time, his art sold
By then, their circumstances had begun to constantly change
The next month, all his paintings sold
And what kept on changing was always the scenery...
Everyone praised his paintings
And she happily told him this:
"I was right to have believed..."
Sometimes, he received thank-you letters
from the people who bought his art
He had no memory of ever being thanked,
but it didn't feel strange, either
The small room began to fill bit by bit
with treasures, which made him happy
And he thought to himself how wonderful it'd be
if things could stay like this forever...
He gradually began to like drawing more and more
He wanted to create even grander paintings
What he wanted to paint was his own self,
to paint an even closer truth
He finished his greatest masterpiece
Even she smiled and said, "It's wonderful"
It was a painting of the true miserable nature of humans,
one that would make anyone turn their eyes away...
Everyone knitted their eyebrows in disgust at his painting
Retreating like the water's tide, each and every one person left
And what kept on changing was always the scenery...
The people all ridiculed him, calling him incompetent
Their fights increasing, the two of them eventually broke up
Was I wrong to have believed...?
On the first floor of a wood apartment,
he continues to draw, even now
What I'd wanted to paint was my own self,
what turned out to be an empty shell of my own self...
I've liked drawing ever since I was little
Now, I don't even know why anymore
There's no one left who'll praise me
There's no more names I can give to these piles of paintings
How many months, years have passed without me realizing?
That day, for the first time in a while, a single painting of mine sold
And what kept on changing was always the scenery...
From that buyer came a letter
Just a few words written on sakura-patterned stationery
"I was right to have believed in you..."
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