Time can wear out a thing, not its value.

╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳╳

Entering the old library felt like entering a palace.

The interior was large, each wall had a bookshelf on it.

It felt like heaven.

"This is marvelous, Makoto-san."

He said, wide-eyed,
breathing in the smell of old books.

"Thanks. My grandparents owned this place.
I used to come here often when I was little.

My parents were always away on business trips and
I was often left with my grandparents.

But don't be too amazed. This isn't the best part of it."

She said with a cheeky grin as she led him a floor up,
opened the door and ushered him with a flourish.

"Ta-da! My grandfather's prized piano!"

Just seeing the instrument he'd grown up with,
the instrument which he'd became attached to the moment he saw it,
made him emotional—
his tears threatened to drop any moment.

He ran his fingers over the carefully preserved ivory keys with such gentleness
it was as if it were his.

You were the start of it all—
my success,
my burdens,
my confusion.

Then his tears fell
o
n
e
after the
o
t
h
e
r.