Yuma sat in his room, surrounded by darkness. The only source of light was a table lamp, whose warm glow fell on an open notebook. He tried to pour out his feelings on paper, but the words seemed scanty, unable to convey the whole gamut of emotions raging in his soul.

“How beautiful you are...” he whispered, looking at the photograph lying on the table. There was a girl on it whose smile made his heart beat faster. Yuuma was hopelessly in love, but he didn't know how to show it to her.

He tried to write a poem worthy of her beauty, but the words did not come. He went through the words, looked for rhymes, but everything seemed wrong, not right. He felt helpless, trapped in his own awkwardness.

“I want to tell you so many words, but they are dying in my soul...” he whispered, looking at the paper. He would like to do something special, something that would make her smile as brightly as in the photo. But he didn't know how...