[True luck] My young taming is too lax!

My name is Yun Shanghuang. 23 years old.

This is a story about me and my first love.

-

The memory of my own childhood has been somewhat blurred.I am not a person who can remember many things clearly, so my colleagues often say that I am careless and informal.Thanks to this, the ability to naturally disguise myself in a crowd is by far the greatest survival skill I have learned.

But there is one thing, one person, that I will never forget.Even when I grew up and realized something was wrong, I couldn't erase that memory no matter what.

That was when I just moved to Kanagawa.Because of my father's job change, I followed him to this strange city. Except for a piece of the sea, I couldn't see anything I was interested in.That man doesn't care about his son's mood, whether he is sad because he is separated from his friends, whether he can adapt to the new environment... In his eyes, I am just an add-on to life.You can't kick it away and you can't throw it away.

I have never seen my mother, two big and small men live, and the one I have the most contact with is an old woman who is a housewife.She always looked at me with vague sympathy, thinking that a child couldn't understand.Sometimes I would lower my head in fear to avoid my father's scrutiny.

Her time in the house is very short, and I don't have her in the same space as me when I'm home on the weekends, and she leaves after cooking, and then the afternoons are my free time.

I hated that house and would always run out and take a walk outside.

When I fell in love with the sky, I don't remember myself.When I was in kindergarten, I often waited alone in the evening for my father who didn’t come for a long time until the sunset was all over the sky. The clouds at that time were very beautiful, as if they could take me away.I climbed up the kindergarten ladder, stood at the top and stretched out my arms, trying to touch them.

They are very free.

No destination, no idea where to go.They don't have a birthday, and they don't know when they will be born and when they will condense, and whether they will separate in the next moment.They don't have a date of death, and if they dissipate slowly, they might just turn into raindrops.

I want to be a cloud.

Even if it disappears only for a while, I want to be a cloud.

My name is Akira Yunshang.It's the only thing I like about that man.I am Akira, I was born to be a ray of free sunlight on the clouds.

Then I realized that the dream of a child is impossible to come true.How can a person become a cloud?

When I first entered elementary school, my grandpa sent me an old camera.He's not very nice to me either, but that's the only gift I get from elders.It was weird, it looked old, and it didn't work very well, but my father was a little excited to see it.

He said it was a gift he used as a child.When I grew up, it was forcibly taken back by my grandfather, and now it is given to me.

I don't really want to use this camera.The things my father touched always carried his indifference.

Once I saw a photo in a school textbook, with the photographer's name in small print underneath.That old camera might also be able to capture something like this, I hesitated for a long time, and finally took it out and wiped it clean.

I open the windows in my room and the street outside is boring and uninspired and all I want to photograph is the sky.

I opened the lens cap, squinted one eye, and observed the world through the lens with the other.

The sky became a vortex and ensnared me.

This is a completely different sky from the naked eye.I ran out of the room, walked aimlessly on the side of the road, looked up to take a picture when I saw a beautiful angle, and soon the film ran out.

It was the happiest day I've had in years.

After developing this habit, I always go out to take pictures alone on weekends.I thought my father would worry about my whereabouts and even stop my hobbies, but he didn't say anything, he just bought a lot of film in a way that I didn't expect, and even dug out the photography books kept at home for me at some time .I wondered, but he didn't explain.

For a few months, I began to read a lot about camera knowledge, how to take pictures, how to frame, and aperture to focus. Although I was still a primary school student, I entered the field of photography early.

Met that boy a year later.

During the rainy season in midsummer, I became interested in raindrops.They fell from the clouds, evaporated from the ground and returned to the clouds, like an inescapable cycle.And the ocean is the savior who receives the raindrops into his arms.

The sea in Kanagawa is beautiful.Sometimes I feel that the sea and the sky are one thing, if I stand upside down, I might be able to see another world.

It was still sunny at noon, and soon turned cloudy. In the drizzle in the afternoon, I came to the coast with an umbrella and sat by the wall beside the road to find the best angle.

Not far from me, there was the sound of fast-paced footsteps approaching.

A beautiful child ran up to me with an easel and a small bag.

This is the only eave on this coast. The shops that were open in the past left this narrow space for people to shelter from the rain because the shopkeeper traveled.My heart is straight and unlucky.The least good at dealing with strangers, can't pretend not to see, can't be indifferent and can't walk away.Masks must be hung up to be polite.

Just like the boy's expression, it's so fake.

He smiled and nodded at me to signal his trouble, and I also pulled the corners of my mouth.I picked up the camera again, and the tranquil mood when I was alone just now disappeared, and my mind was full of the appearance of the person beside me.

He had caught the rain and covered the easel with a tarp, but his hair was wet.The painting is more important than myself, which makes me have a good impression of him.

The rain has not abated, my umbrella is on my shoulders, the camera is in both hands, and my neck is a little sore.In order to prevent the raindrops from hitting the camera, I have to use an umbrella to cover the lens. If I am alone, I can pose a little more casually, but there are people around me who can't make that kind of indecent gesture.

"Can I help?"

I turned my head, the boy stared at me with clean eyes, his hand stretched out, I didn't know how to reply.

"Can I hold your umbrella for you?" He repeated, bringing his hand a little closer.I subconsciously wanted to retreat, but felt a little hurt, so I stopped abruptly.

I actually kind of need his help, but this stranger is the type I've never met.

"If you feel troubled, can you also hold an umbrella for me later?" The boy lowered his eyes and smiled, with a hint of understanding on his cheeks, "I want to paint the sea on a rainy day, and it will be very difficult if the canvas and paint get wet. trouble."

Ah, if it's an equivalent exchange, at least that's what I can accept.I nodded and said "Thank you" in a low voice.

He took my black umbrella and moved closer to me.There was a faint body temperature next to me in the slightly cold air, and there was a good smell on his body. This distance made me a little breathless.

I subconsciously wanted to stay away from him, but this man had good intentions, and if he really avoided it, he would be hurt.

You can't push your obstacles onto others, Akira.

His help made me feel a lot easier.This weather is very unfriendly to photography. Although I simply like the sky, I also want to take photos that I like.Despite the convenience, my attention was so focused on the person at my elbow that I couldn't concentrate at all, and I couldn't find my best form.

"Okay." Compared to being surrounded by others, I might want to be a bystander.I put away the camera and took the umbrella, "Enough, let's draw."

The boy tilted his head and blinked.He should have been puzzled a lot, but he didn't ask anything, just smiled and let go.He should be gentle and considerate.But maybe he just wasn't interested in a stranger either.

He lifted the tarp off the easel.

I hold my breath.

Can humans draw such beautiful colors?

What he painted seems to be the sea, and it seems to be a beast, a sea monster.There is a different world on his canvas. I don’t understand the classification of colors. I only know that it is a dark blue mythical war, a fight between storms and rainstorms, and a fight between waves and sea surfaces.

I looked up at the water in front of me, it was very quiet, gloomy and deep, there was no cry of waves in my ears, only the sound of raindrops hitting the water.Turning to look at his paintings again, one by one waves are hitting us.

Is the world in my eyes so different from his?

"……why?"

He looked up at me, and I realized that I had asked it unconsciously.

"Well, I don't know why." The boy smiled, "Intuition."

He is very calm and calm, even if he is watched by others, he completely ignores my existence and concentrates on painting.He paints impasto in silence, and many unexpected paints appear in different corners of the painting.Without any golds and reds in my opinion, there are irrelevant colors in his palette.Layers of those colors were smeared onto the canvas, creating worlds I had never seen before.

His eyes are different from mine.

He is not limited by any objects he sees, he is free.

He is like a cloud that exists in reality. If the cloud can be transformed into a person, it might be like him.

I began to observe his appearance carefully.First impressions are pretty, and that's really no exaggeration.He has delicate facial features like a girl, but is more beautiful than a girl of this age.His eyes were very clear and clean. When he looked at me, he didn't pay attention to any external things at all, but stared at my eyes.

He has soft purple curly hair, which is not long, but it is not short hair like many boys. This appearance makes him more melancholic. I even suspect that many people will see him as a little girl at first sight. .

He wears a plain white T-shirt and black cotton shorts, like a little painter who grew up in a gallery, but his eyes are deeply insightful, with a maturity beyond his age.

I think he's kind of like me.

But I am not the cloud, I just yearn for the cloud.

We gradually became acquainted, although we did not exchange names.This may be a kind of tacit understanding. I don't want him to know the poor me in reality. On this coast, I am just a free photographer, and he is just a special painter.

He seems very busy, I often come to this coast on weekends and two days, but he only comes once or twice a month at most.Even so, I am willing to wait for him, he is a treasure, a diamond.

He should be the same age as me, and he is probably in the second grade of elementary school now. I never asked him, and he never asked me.

I am a coward, even if I feel his kindness, I dare not make friends with him. I always stare at him secretly through black-rimmed glasses with an indifferent look.Sometimes he would chat with me about his favorite painters and works, and I would also talk about photographers.We never mention our family and friends. Occasionally, I wonder, is it because of my deliberate alienation that this person has not introduced himself to me?

In his eyes, what kind of existence is this eerie boy with long bangs, messy black hair, and black-rimmed glasses?

I dare not ask him, for fear of knowing the answer.

Once he was curious to see the sky photos I took, I hesitated to pick a few and handed them to him, but he was stunned.

He stared at the picture for a long time, as if he could discover some secret in the clouds and sky.Fog slowly condensed in his eyes, water droplets stained his eyelashes, and lake water filled his eye sockets.

At one point I thought he was going to cry.

I don't know why he reacted like that, but when he looked up at me, I felt a shiver in my bones.

His eyes were terribly keen.

It was a pair of penetrating eyes that pierced through my disguise and rushed straight to the real me.

I think he saw my heart.

I took back those photos, and fled away like a fly.

I planned to calm down and think about how to explain it later.However, after returning home, I learned a shocking news.

That news changed the trajectory of my life, and I have never been to that shore since.

I switched schools again.

Six years later, I returned to Kanagawa.I used my grandfather and father's inheritance to buy the house that had long since changed hands, and moved in again.I inherited all my father's private collection of cameras, dug out his works when he was young and hadn't given up photography, and started living alone.My guardian is a distant uncle, a person I have never met since I was born, and now it is ironic that my closest blood relatives.

I transferred to the High School Attached to Lihai University, so coincidentally it was his school, and so coincidentally it was his class in Group C of the third grade.

But his seat is empty.

A few years ago, I saw a series of six oil paintings called "Window" in an art magazine. The artist was a boy in the fourth grade of elementary school. One of them hurt my eyes.The roaring ocean rushed towards me, framed by the windows of the room, shutting out the engulfing breath.

I lingered on the painter's name for a long time.

Yukimura Seiichi.

This is his name.

I searched for news about him, and found out that he is still a tennis player, a minister of Lihai University, and a "son of God".

I also learned that he was seriously ill and hospitalized.

When he returned to school, he looked different from the photos. I haven't seen the real person in six years, and now I can only vaguely find the shadow of the boy from the past in his unchanged smile.

I dyed my hair, turned it golden brown, changed my hairstyle, and wore a tie loosely like a lot of handsome guys.I put on contact lenses, learned to fake a friendly smile, and became an unobtrusive, ordinary boy very naturally.

He really didn't recognize me.We never exchanged names, and now an ordinary transfer student who is a bit carefree is completely different from the gloomy boy when he was a child. It is not an exaggeration to say that he has changed his appearance.

I went to watch his game and cheered for Li Hai. I found out that he has a good friend who is inseparable. I heard that they are young tame dyes of ten years.

It turned out that I was too late.

I thought I always thought he was a precious friend of mine, until I saw that scene when I passed the studio that day.

He was hugged by his young tame, and their bodies were inlaid with dreamy edges by the light and shadow behind the window.In the background is the sea of ​​Kanagawa, quiet and gentle, without roaring waves or gloomy rain.

They are kissing.

I didn't look any further, covered my mouth and slipped away soundlessly.

I did not choose the same time as him for the later study trip.I don't know if I can't help looking at his mouth if I see him again.

I want to hug him.

want to kiss him.

Want to stand by his side instead of that person.

But I know I'm not eligible.I left for 6 years and took the initiative to leave the boy who would cry for my photos.

Why is he crying, why can he understand?

What does he see in my picture, does he understand me?

I still couldn't hold back in the tossing and turning, and after hesitation, I still found a few photos of the sky I took recently and submitted them to the class activities of Kaiyuan Festival.I knew he was in charge of censorship, and I didn't think he would remember my changing style after all these years.I just want to hear how he feels, to know the one that I can never get an answer for again.

I asked the girl in my class and she relayed the comment he said to me.

gorgeous.He said.

I can imagine the mist in his eyes.He would be stunned for a moment, staring at the clouds and the sky. He likes clean things, so he will be moved by them.

I can imagine that this 14-year-old Yukimura overlaps with the teary-eyed boy in my memory.

This is enough.

This is my best dream.

I hope this dream never wakes up.

Later, I graduated from junior high school and left Kanagawa to go to school in Tokyo.After graduating from high school, he went to a French university to study photography.

After another six years, I returned to Tokyo and established my own studio.

I haven't thought of that boy for a long time, and I no longer pay attention to his news.

I have the best memories, where, on a stretch of coast, lived two carefree boys.

That's my Neverland.They never grew up again.

-

My name is Yun Shanghuang. 23 years old.

Reuniting with first love.

Wearing a simple silver ring on the ring finger of his left hand, he sat on the armchair opposite the reporter and smiled softly.

The reporter introduced the photographer's name to him, and his eyes fixed on mine.

"haven't seen you for a long time."

He said.

Outside the French windows behind him, rain was dripping from billowing clouds.He smiled at me, his eyes were still so clean that I couldn't escape.

"I like your work very much, it has always been so beautiful." He shook my hand, "Free like a cloud."

He was a god, and he stretched out his hand to push away the dark clouds behind him, and the continuous rain finally stopped.

A ray of warm sunlight peeked out from above the clouds.