Her voice. Her angelic voice. You had to get to know her better.

Every thursday, a street musician sang on your street. Whatever the weather, she stands in the same place and sings so gently and calmly that the softness of the clouds cannot be compared with her timbre.

If you walked by, you always gave her more money than everyone else, but she didn't react to it in any way. This girl was basically like a closed, cold castle, not missing even a hint of warm feelings. She was just doing her job. You didn't know if it was a hobby. Or a forced measure. But a small accumulation of snow on the shoulders of her coat on winter evenings at the microphone gave the answer.

Her appearance was slightly unusual for a japanese woman, so you always knew she was a foreigner. That's why today, after a couple of months of silent admiration, you decided to at least try your luck at getting to know her directly. And you used basic japanese so as not to embarrass her with your usual dialect.

"Sorry. I'm not interested in it."

Her beautiful voice in the usual dialogue turned out to be even colder than you expected. Not looking at you, the girl continued to carefully close the guitar case.