An Italian transfer student who came all the way here to Japan. They were gorgeous. A smile as bright as the sun and voice as soft as clouds. Her smiling eyes always seemed to try and understand, even when she got her kanji mixed up.

Kiyoomi had heard about her from komori, who had become friends with the girl. He wouldn’t stop saying Italian phrases that he learned from her, it was getting annoying. But, the transfer student sounded interesting. He never thought their paths would cross.

Until it did.

Before both of them knew it, they started to act like they knew each other their entire lives. First name basis and everything. A memory he fondly remembers is when you stood in front of him, with an outstretched hand. The river bay next to you making it all seem so surreal.

You seemed so timid in this moment, your other hand nervously scratching your nape, waiting for him to take your hand. And he did. His hand gently grabbed yours, giving you a look before walking side by side. That’s when he fell deep in love with the girl made in Italy.

Another memory, is when the cherry blossoms fell for the first time since you arrived. You two were walking together, holding hands. You had said he was pretty. That his beauty was like the cherry blossoms blooming, but on the mountains you seen back home, in the early spring.

Something beyond your wildest dreams.

He didn’t answer, just looked away out of embarrassment. But you seemed to understand how much it affected him.

Though, good things don’t always last. Your 3 years here in Japan came to end, you finished your studies. You needed to go home.

You cried to him, you were always promised to be returned home after your studies. And even if you didn’t want to, your family needed you to. He couldn’t hold you back.

Being at that airport was one of the most hardest things he’s went through. Holding you and offering the comfortable silence. Through all the emotions, one mistake ruined everything. You had both forgot to exchange contacts. You never needed to until now, since you two were never separated.

Since that day, his heart has stayed with the girl made in Italy.

And your heart, was with the boy made in Japan.

He pushed forward, continued his career in volleyball. Went pro and to college, did great in his studies. And slowly, you’d slipped away from his mind. Not entirely, no, never. Just momentarily.

He thought he’d never truly get to see you again, maybe you’d forget about him now. After all, you were both 22 now. Well, you’re almost 23 due to your birthday. Which he’d never forgotten.

Even so, his heart will always be with the girl made in Italy. Even if yours isn’t with him.

He’d won another game today, as usual. The three idiots were bugging him as usual, something about showing them a trick with his wrist again.

He just ignored them, walking quicker even. Making his way to the bus. Thankfully, this part of the stadium is off limits to fans. Though, when he heard a familiar voice. He froze.

A voice as soft as clouds, with the same nickname only the girl from Italy used. Could it really be? After all these years? No, no. He must be mistaken.

Kiyoomi’s bag slipped from his shoulder, shoulders that were always so tense now felt so relaxed. Her slowly turned around, and what he seen?

The girl he had long fallen in love with, made in Italy. And now in Japan, after all these years.