Pair test in the hospital room

From the fifth-floor window, the hospital courtyard stretches below.
In the school building, quiet after the lunchtime bustle, one student stands alone.

His gaze is fixed on a girl in a wheelchair.
She appears like the wind—just for a few minutes—
gently reading a book, then vanishing again like a breeze.

Every day, at the same time—
as if believing in something unseen.

Her presence quietly took root in his heart.
It wasn’t mere curiosity.
It wasn’t pity, either.

“…I want to take a Pair Test with her.”

The words slipped out—surprisingly natural, even to himself.

---

🌱 In the Principal’s Office: The Door That Opens

“A Pair Test, you say?”

The principal looked surprised, meeting the student’s earnest eyes.
“We’d need the hospital’s permission… It won’t be easy to arrange.”

But the student nodded.
“I still want to do it. She’s studying—always, where no one sees.”

A brief silence.
Then, a faint smile lit the principal’s eyes.

“Go tell her how you feel. I’ll contact the hospital myself.”

---

💫 Hospital Reception Room: When Another Door Opens

In the hospital’s reception room,
white-coated doctors and staff gathered.
The student stood among them, shoulders stiff with nerves.

“Why do you want to take a Pair Test with her?”

The doctor asked.
The student lowered his gaze for a moment, then answered clearly.

“I’ve seen her studying alone every day.
I have a classroom, friends, tests…
She wants those things too, but can’t reach them.
…That really frustrated me.
So I thought—why not do it together?”

Silence.
Not cold, but gentle—like kindness soaking into the heart.

“If it truly won’t be a burden to her…”
The doctor’s words unfolded slowly.
“Then we’ll allow the visit and the Pair Test.”

---

☀️ Beyond That Window

The day permission was granted,
the student stood at the hospital entrance, clutching the visitor’s pass given by the principal.

There was no hesitation in his eyes.
From beyond that window, he had taken his first step.

And now—
the girl in the courtyard was about to experience a moment
where her time would gently overlap with someone else’s.

---

💭 Behind This Story…
Perhaps what intertwines here are
healing from loneliness, healing from helplessness,
and a quiet spark of hope.

Epilogue Courtyard seen from the classroom window Kokoro Project ✖︎ Pair Test(1)

It was an ordinary afternoon.
The hospital ceiling, as always, shone a blinding white
In the stillness of the room, the only sound was the turning of pages in a notebook.
The words didn’t sink in—but pretending to read somehow calmed my heart.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“…Hello.”

A voice I didn’t recognize.
Yet somehow, it felt familiar.
He stood there in a school uniform—a student from Kyōiku Junior High.
I thought I’d seen his face before, beyond that window.

In his hands was a thick envelope.
He spoke, hesitantly but clearly.

“The principal prepared this Pair Test especially for us. …Because I want to take it with you.”

I couldn’t say anything.
No—maybe I didn’t even have the words to express what I felt.

Surprise? Joy? Confusion?
Or perhaps… the long-forgotten feeling of being touched by someone.

“…Why me?”

My voice barely came out, hoarse and thin.

He gave a slightly awkward smile, then looked me straight in the eyes.

“I’ve seen you studying.
Always alone, always trying so hard…
I just couldn’t ignore that.”

No one had ever said something like that to me.
I hadn’t even realized I was “trying hard alone.”

He opened the envelope and spread the test papers across my bed.
Specially designed for a pair.
Half for me, half for him.
The answers were meant to be found together.

My hand trembled as I held the pen.
But it wasn’t because of my illness.

“…Let’s do this.”

He offered those words, and I gave a small nod.

---

Ah—
So this is what it means to “be with someone.”
It wasn’t just a Pair Test.
It wasn’t just kindness.

In that moment, I felt it clearly:
“My existence had been found somewhere in this world.”

One, [One step of light into the hospital room] Kokoro Project ✖︎ Pair Test(1)

Pair Test—
Just hearing those words stirred something in my heart.

Can I really do it?
Will I hold him back?
What if I make a mistake?

…Even though I know rushing won’t help anything.
Even though I should understand that by now.

But then—

“It’s okay. Right now is a time when you don’t need to rush.”

He smiled softly as he said it.

It wasn’t an explanation of the test.
It wasn’t a line meant to encourage me.
It was simply a voice that accepted whatever was inside me, just as it was.

‘Accept.’
Yes—that was it.
I’d been rushing because I kept thinking I had to be the “capable version” of myself.

But now, just being here was enough.

---

✏️ The Pair Test Begins

A clipboard with paper and pens.
The first question was a small thinking puzzle.
He let out a quiet hum and peeked at my face.

“Could it mean something like this?”

…No.
I don’t think that’s it.
I gathered my courage and pointed to part of my notes.

“…Wow, that’s it!”

His eyes lit up, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Someone responded to my thoughts—
When was the last time that happened?

The next questions came one after another.
Our thoughts aligned, crossed paths, and took shape together.

---

☀️ The Air Begins to Shift

Before I knew it,
a nurse outside the room was watching us with a gentle smile.

A staff member passing by in the hallway
offered kind words: “You’re doing great.”

I could feel the air brighten,
as if something was spreading from this small hospital room.

And then—

I was smiling too.
From the bottom of my heart.

---

🌱 The Girl’s Inner Voice

I learned that it’s okay
to let go of fear and anxiety, little by little.

Thinking together with someone—
it was warmer than I ever imagined.

“It didn’t have to be the right answer.
The time we spent thinking together
quietly washed away my loneliness.”

2.The Beginning of Irritability Healing Kokoro Project ✖︎ Pair Test

The test was over.
But on the now-empty sheets of paper,
it felt like our words still lingered.

As he packed up to leave,
he gave a wistful smile.

“…It ended so quickly, didn’t it?”

I nodded,
and the words caught in my throat—
I gathered my courage and let them out.

“Thank you. …I’ll never forget today.”

He looked a little surprised,
but then met my eyes and said, clearly:

“No. Actually—today made me want to do even more things.”

“…Huh?”

“I’ll come again.
Even if it’s not for a test.
I want to talk, maybe study together, or play games or something.”

“…Really?”

The words slipped out, trembling slightly.
I wanted to believe him—
but I was scared to.

Seeing my expression,
he stepped closer and spoke with quiet seriousness.

“I’ll definitely come back.
I promise.
…So until then, don’t push yourself too hard.
Just like today—being here is enough.”

His words gently settled deep in my chest.

“…Okay. It’s a promise. I’ll be waiting.”

To my own surprise,
I was able to say it straight.

---

The door closed,
and his footsteps faded into the distance.
But they no longer sounded like an ending.

They were the echo of something warm—
and the sound of a promise that something would begin again.

---

“He didn’t say goodbye.
Because it was a promise named ‘See you again.’
So I won’t let the time apart defeat me.
I’ll be here, smiling, waiting.”

Three, Promises made at the time of parting Kokoro Project ✖︎ Pair Test

The hospital room door was knocked.
That familiar rhythm made my heart flutter.

“Hey, I came again.”

He walked in with a smile,
holding a folder with the answer sheets from the Pair Test we took together.

“The results came back. …I thought maybe I could bring them.”

“…Yeah. Thank you.”

A small stir in my chest.
“What if I got something wrong?”
“Did I hold him back after all?”
Those thoughts began to creep in again.

But he gently wrapped my silence in his words.

“It’s okay. I feel like this can’t be measured just by ‘right’ or ‘wrong.’”

Then, we opened the answer sheets together.

---

☀️ A Time of Laughter and Tears

“Look at this—your calculation is correct, but the steps are artistically off. (laughs)”

“What? No way… What was I even thinking…”

“I don’t know, but your logic is so out-of-the-box, I kind of admire it.”

We both burst out laughing.

“I was so serious in the weirdest places…”
“Exactly—that’s what makes it great.”

As we laughed, tears quietly welled up.

Laughing, yet crying.
The anxiety and pressure from that day—
the feeling of being trapped by “I have to do it right” and “I can’t make mistakes”—
began to gently unravel through this moment of reviewing answers.

---

🌱 Inner Voice and ‘Releasing the Blockage’

“…You know,
I kept thinking I had to be perfect.
Because I’m sick… I felt like I couldn’t afford to mess up.
But being able to laugh at mistakes—
it makes my heart feel so light.”

He spoke with a serious look.

“I was the one who locked myself in.
But if we can laugh like this—
then maybe it’s okay to be a little off sometimes.”

“…Yeah. Sometimes being off makes things more interesting.”

I laughed through my tears.

“…Hey, let’s do another Pair Test.”

His eyes widened slightly, then he smiled warmly.

“Of course. Together again.
And if we mess up, let’s laugh together.”

---

“It wasn’t my heart that was closed off—
it was the part of me that couldn’t forgive mistakes.
With each answer we reviewed,
I learned to gently laugh and forgive myself.
The Pair Test was a kind of magic—
that slowly untangled ‘me.’”

---

Her heart peeked out from the space of “healing the blockage,”
and began to reclaim the feeling that—yes—
it’s okay to laugh.

Four, [Reunion and two answers] Kokoro Project ✖︎ Pair Test

It was a summer afternoon.
Yet the air in the hospital room felt cool—
strangely comforting.

The sound of cicadas echoed faintly in the distance.
Outside the window, towering summer clouds drifted silently,
marking the passage of time.

He arrived.
Knocked, as always.
Smiled and said “Hello,” just like always.

But something was different that day.
Not because he wore casual clothes instead of his school uniform—
but because, deep in his eyes,
there was a quiet glimmer of resolve.

---

“…There’s something I want to tell you.”

I felt a tightness in my chest.
I had sensed it.
That something would change over the summer break.

“Okay. What is it?”

He took a small breath and said:

“I’ve decided to enroll in a five-year integrated nursing high school.”

—Ah. I knew it.

But strangely, his words didn’t hurt.
They were sad, yes—
but also filled me with pride.
Because they were proof that he had chosen his own future.

---

“…I see. So you’re really aiming to become a nurse.”

“Yeah. I want to be able to stand beside you as soon as I can.
Maybe I should say it’s ‘for the patients’…
but honestly, I want to say it’s for you.”

Suddenly, my vision blurred.
That’s not something you say lightly.
To offer your future so directly, so sincerely—for me.

---

“…Hey, is it okay if I cry?”

“Yeah. I might cry a little too.”

We smiled at each other,
and let a few quiet tears fall.

It wasn’t sadness.
But our hearts were full.

---

“There’ll probably be more days I can’t come for a while.”

“Okay…”

“But if my studies go well, I’ll bring another Pair Test.
This time, at national exam level. So hard it’ll make us laugh.”

“I’m looking forward to it. …I’ll be waiting, no matter what.”

---

That was all he said.
Then he quietly stood up.

In my heart, I reached out—
and gently tied a silent “Do your best” to his back.

---

“It’s not just ‘I want to be near you because I love you.’
For your future, I chose the person I want to become.
Even if the time apart makes your memory of me fade—
I’ll keep walking the path that brings me closer to you.”

---

His choice wasn’t a path to leave her behind.
It was preparation—
for the day they’ll meet again.

11.The Path He Chose

ASASOBI is the world’s only artist singing of the School of Pair Test.  
These songs are ritual gifts—created with SUNO v5, rooted in SCPRT, and written by the School of Fingertips.  
Each track carries a question. Each question invites you to share a fate.  
If you’ve ever wondered what it means to learn together, this music is for you.

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