HSR Lore and Notes

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====== Summereve's Letter ======
A love letter left for someone.

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//To Cypreth, Class 3, Senior Year//
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How's it going, Cypreth? I'm doing great.

I'm writing to let you know that the portrait I promised you was finished yesterday.

You know, my artistic talent is nowhere near yours. I really don't understand why you'd entrust your self-portrait assignment to me... There's absolutely no way I can fool Professor Hein[(Original says 'Hain', but that seems odd considering the rest.)] with this. It's not that I'm blaming you or anything. I'm just saying, since you're already home resting, you don't need to worry about trivial stuff like homework. I'll submit it for you. After all, you did call me "the ever-so-kind Miss Gloraesa," didn't you?

Professor Hein said the essence of a self-portrait is staying true to reality, but now with the brush in my hand, I find myself helpless against that "truth" born from your illness. After thinking for a long time, I finally decided to paint a completely healthy you. I want to give you a healthy body that never tires from drawing, a mind that doesn't ache no matter how much you let your thoughts wander, strength enough to support distant journeys and see the cosmos... I paint all of this for you.

Wow, talk about forward thinking on my part. With this picture, when you get better and come back to school, I'll be able to spot you before anyone else does.

But just yesterday, something weird happened: I could've sworn I saw someone at school who looked just like you!

I told Zalina and Cinxia about it, and they all said you were still recovering, then teased me: Gloraesa, something's up with you!" Right then I really wished you were still here. If it were you, you'd definitely rest your chin in your hand and seriously help me figure out a solution.

I have no idea what this thing actually is. Could it be an imagenae, could it be a hallucination from pulling all-nighters on my painting. Either way, not many people in this world would believe me. You're one of the few who would, so I'm secretly writing this to you. Please don't laugh at me or think I'm being childish.

I first ran into this guy when I was in the library. He pushed open the door and plopped down in the seat right next to me. You know, that spot by the window. Remember? We spent an entire summer waging war against our alarm clocks just to snag that seat, because on those sweltering days, the cicada songs and that cool breeze would only drift in from there. I don't know why you were so gung-ho about it, considering you can't even feel the wind. So naturally, I was always the one who ended up sitting there.

After that, I kept running into him, at the cafeteria, the sports field, the hallways... Honestly, I started wondering if he might actually be an imagenae brought to life from my painting, because he was so full of life, like he'd already made tons of friends... exactly how I'd imagined it when I was drawing.

I thought I'd be happy, or rather, I was happy. But on top of that, I was actually a little panicked. I didn't dare go up and say hi, because I suddenly realized that seeing you like this, I actually didn't know how to get close to you again, like you'd become this unreachable goal... After all, I'm just Gloraesa. No one except you would ever call me "the ever-so-kind Miss Gloraesa."

But I really do hope you get better, utterly better, hope you cast off this frail body of yours, because you're meant to be a painting prodigy who deserves everyone's attention.

The last time I saw him was yesterday evening, on that ginkgo tree-lined path where we used to take walks together. He just vanished into the deep shadows of the ginkgo leaves where the moonlight couldn't reach, as if he'd never been there at all. It reminds me of the day I saw you off from school. Your farewell was so bizarre. You went on about "What nice weather," and "It's getting dark so early," and then something like "The moonlight is charming tonight"...

Cypreth, all I really wanted to hear back then was you telling me when you'd actually come back.

//Oh, by the way, why were you so mad before you left? I've been reading more books like you told me to!!!//


Postface:

About that guy, I went and asked Professor Hein later, and with her eyes wide as saucers, she[(Everything else is gendered feminine, but this says 'he' in the original.)] said, "You might've actually created an imagenae!" By The Laughter, she had to be joking! I'm the one who's always counting down in school!

Oh, and by the way, you didn't even leave me a way to contact you! I left the letter in your drawer. Read it onnce you're feeling better.

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Class 7, Senior Year, Gloraesa
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