I recall her words during those casual conversations in my mundane daily life.
Sometimes, she would say things that I have never thought of, things that are reflective and somewhat philosphical.
She's always gazing at something far away. It feels like she's seeing a different world from me.
She gazes with a gloomy face, as if she's thinking about someone somewhere else.
Why is that, whenever I looked at her undecipherable side face, I felt my chest tightening?===
Creating art is, I think, the most beautiful thing in this world—
She once said that.
I think I now understand what that means by a little.
In order to get closer to her spirit, and to learn a bit more about her, I have continued with my music.
I believed that something can be saved by doing so.===
She called her own works "Moon at midday".
"Even though it's there, it can't illuminate anything."
There's nothing like that, Yuma.
The moonlight that you have lit has helped me to live.
"Moonlight at midday"
This is a song about a moon like you.
This was the first song that I wrote about her.
This was also the song that made me well known to the public.
I left the company I'd been working for and came to the city. I decided to truly become a singer-songwriter because I'd earned quite an amount of money from this song.
However, the fact that I labelled her story with a price and made money off her gave me complicated feelings.==
Her living place remained the way when she was here during my visit.
It is as if the time here has stopped flowing.
I saw her diary there.
Then, I saw the final work she left behind.
The lyrics and melodies ended abruptly halfway. It is an incomplete song.
In the song, I write about her.
