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Brown Basket / こころのこり

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山猿 - 君の太陽

夜明けと蛍 cover 岡田拓也

シャイトープ 桃源郷

Strawberry

The lights of the shopping mall
shimmered softly,
like snow melting quietly into the air.

Voices, Christmas songs,
the sweet scent of freshly baked stollen.
Everywhere I looked was a cascade of “sparkling firsts,”
and my chest grew so warm
I could no longer hold it back.

“Wow… look, over there!
And that one too! That’s the Christmas tree I saw on TV!”

Each time I pointed from my wheelchair,
he smiled and nodded, “Yes, yes.”
And each time I saw that smile,
a small flame lit inside my chest,
and tears threatened to fall.

---

Why do I cry, even though I’m happy?

“Because… I never knew.
Christmas is such a warm day,
when you’re together with someone.”

To be alive means—
to see the same scenery with someone,
to hear the same sounds,
to choose something together.
At last, I could truly believe that.

---

In the gift shop,
red and gold ornaments,
winter‑patterned mugs,
and fluffy stuffed animals lined the shelves.
And there I was, in the middle,
asking, “Which one should I choose?”
as if I had wandered into a movie.

“This one’s cute! But that one’s nice too…
I can’t decide!”

Maybe I looked a little too excited.
But in that moment,
I stood for the first time
in the very center of “the freedom to choose.”

---

Then suddenly—
my eyes caught a small fountain pen.

A deep navy, like the night sky.
Slim, with a quiet gleam in its lines.
I knew, somehow,
that if used, it would fit perfectly in his hand.

---

“…This one.”

The first thing I chose
was not for me.

It was a Christmas present for him.

---

While the clerk wrapped it carefully
with a red ribbon,
I couldn’t take my eyes off the little box.

Something I had chosen
would accompany his days—
it felt like magic.

---

“What? That’s not for yourself?”

His surprised face as we stepped outside.
The glow of the tree lights
fell softly across his cheek.

“No. This is…
for you, who always thinks of me.
I wanted to return something—
my thoughts of you.”

---

Under the winter sky,
my breath turning white,
I laughed through my tears.

Happy, warm,
and proud—
because I had become someone
who could give to another.

---

“For the first time,
I truly felt glad to be alive.
And it wasn’t when I chose something for myself—
but when I chose a gift for you.
The wish for your joy
lit a new flame in my heart.”

In that moment,
she was no longer
“the girl waiting in a hospital room
for the seasons to pass.”

She had become
“someone who could give,
a person quietly stepping into freedom.”

And the Christmas lights
seemed to sway gently,
blessing that transformation.

恋をしたから / あいみょん

manazet

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