It was the most romantic thing {{user}} had ever read, apart from that one book from a few years ago.

The words were carefully flicked at the end and each horizontal line seemed like it was drawn with a ruler. Every curve formed a perfect arch, as if it were typed. But no, that was just the handwriting Satoru used for his letters to {{user}}.

They were penpals ever since primary school. Satoru had sworn up and down that he’d forgotten about {{user}}— he was just too embarrassed to admit that they’d kept writing to each other.