And our hearts became one.
Everything began in 2025, when the leader of Japan issued a proposal entitled "From GDP (Gross National Product) to GDH (Gross National Happiness).
"The public was already exhausted by the impact of infectious diseases that had spread around the world. As a result, the Japanese economy was in a downward spiral.
The "Well-being Policy" was launched in order to improve the situation, advocating "a society where citizens can live in a healthy state of body and mind."
It immediately struck a chord with the tired populace.
The Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology issued the "Well-Being Manual," a textbook explaining the way forward for the citizenry.
Companies acquired people's vital data, such as their voices and facial expressions.
They used this to provide more in-depth support for the growth of their businesses and to further the self-actualization of the employees.

"Kyosuke, it's your turn. Page 372, Chapter 1." Yeah, I know." I tried to frown, bit my numb lips, and stared intently at the beautiful display of white chrysanthemums. My eyes began to blur with tears. I was expressing "sadness." The handbook stated that we should express "sadness" when people die. At least, that's what it said—but was I doing it right? It was the first time someone close to me had died, and I kept thinking about unnecessary things. Goodbye, Dad.

I was now a sophomore in high school, and my coursework on the emotion handbook had increased by 15 hours a week. I liked the handbook. Thinking for yourself was tiring, and as long as I followed the playbook, I wouldn’t do anything awkward.

It was one uneventful day in May. I found something gleaming in the school hallway. It was a marble ball with a diameter of about 25mm, and it looked as though a galaxy had been trapped inside. When I held it up to the light, it looked even more beautiful and seemed to shine even more gloriously.
"Oh, sorry. That’s mine.
"I couldn’t take my eye off the marble, and those words suddenly made me come back to reality. A good-looking female student was standing in front of me. She had a birthmark below her eye and near her mouth. She was wearing a name tag that read "Tachibana".

"Oh, I see. What a beautiful marble. I've never seen something like this before."
"Thanks for picking it up. It's my special treasure...hey, did you just say it looks beautiful?"
"Huh? Yeah, I did."
"But this is just a toy. It has no use other than playing."
"Oh. I thought it was something to be displayed and looked at. The color is beautiful. It looks like a little universe."
"That's right."
She smiled sweetly.
"I like to stare at it while thinking about my favorite things.Everything is so controlled in our society today that you lose your sense of self. I want to be true to what I feel and who I am. As for you..."
"Cut it out. That kind of talk is forbidden. We don't know who's listening.Have you read the chapter on emotions on page 5 of the handbook? You're free to have your own thoughts. But you have to observe these rules when sharing them with others: Rule number 1:..."
"You don’t have to cite it. I know the rules, and I follow them all. Sounds like you're the one who hasn't read them fully enough."

She let out a big sigh and looked down.
"So you're just like everyone else, huh? You don’t see you’re running away from yourself?  You should be more honest with who you are, " she said, as she looked me in the eye. I could feel I was blushing, and I just wanted to disappear. But for some reason, I couldn’t move or take my eyes off her as she walked away briskly.  Her words kept repeating in my head, and I found myself absent-minded throughout the rest of the day.

The following day, I saw her eating bread in the school courtyard, and before I knew it, I was running toward her. I was surprised I couldn’t stop myself from running.
"Hey, Tachibana. I think you're weird, but I really want to know more about you. I'm jealous of you. Maybe I'm a little bit weird. I really want to talk to you. "
"Are you confessing your love or something?"
"Of course not."
"Why are you jealous? I have no friends, and the teachers don’t really like me. You seem like a good person. You don’t have any problems. "
"Well, you're right, I don’t have any problems. But you said yesterday that I was just like everybody else and that I'm running away from myself."
"You believe everything I say?"
"No. Gosh, it's so hard to talk to you. I forget what we're even talking about."
"I know. I don't really understand myself, too."
"What?"
"Hey, do you like music?"
"Sure. I listen to music sometimes, but I don’t really know much about it. All the music made by AI sounds the same to me."
"I know. Listen, let's meet up here after school."
She briskly stood up and raised one eyebrow, looking at me with a suspicious stare. I knew that emotion. It was "displeasure."
"Well, see you later, then."

The things she said and the look on her face when she said them seemed mismatched, but I decided to wait for her after school. My decision turned out to be the right one. She appeared within 5 minutes. She seemed to want to take me somewhere. As we walked, we briefly introduced ourselves to each other. I had learned that when talking to people, you should interject comments about the weather or popular celebrities if the conversation slows, but she didn't seem to care. We walked in silence. I could see my city better than usual.

"It’s here." 
She was pointing to a neon sign that read "Chill Out". Inside was a crowded cafe with a colorful menu serving the kind of things high schoolers would love. Bowls of ice cream were sadly melting after being photographed by diners. This didn't seem like the kind of place where I could really "chill out". I stared at Tachibana. 
"Not here--it’s in the basement."
She smiled mischievously.

We walked down the shabby staircase by the gaudy cafe to find a pastel pink door with a dim light. On the ground, there was a sign that read "Cafe BEATS". Because of the land readjustment that had taken place, there were only relatively new buildings left in this area. This space seemed misfitting, and that intrigued me with its unexpected beauty.

As I hesitated, Tachibana opened the door and a kind of music I had never heard before flooded my ears. It was by no means music that was easy to listen to. You could even hear the performer's hands strumming the instrument, and the singing was rustic, yet also delicate and refined. I just stood there, dumbfounded. There was a red turntable in the middle of the store, with music playing lightly.
"In the past, people used to make their own music. I don't necessarily dislike today's AI music, but it's nice to know this kind of music exists, too."
I felt a pain I had never experienced before. It was like my chest was growing tighter.
There were books and records on the shelves, and in the corner, a jukebox I had only seen in the movies. I had never seen this much analog content before in one place. A man past middle age carefully poured hot water through a drip pot into a coffee cup.  The pleasant aroma of coffee stimulated my brain.

"Until I found this place, I felt like I was on puppet strings. But music is so unusual...it adapts itself to your emotions, and helps you open up. I still feel empty inside, but I feel like it's filling me up little by little."

"What do you usually think about, Kyosuke?"
It felt as if my heart was being squeezed by Tachibana. The moment felt soft, warm, and sweet.
"Lately I...I feel like my body is a machine. I wake up at the same time every day, go to school for classes, have meaningless conversations with my classmates, then go home. I do my housework, study, listen to pop music, and fall asleep while watching videos. It starts to feel like I'm doing work. Every day feels the same. I feel like I'm made of steel. It’s not even painted, just bare steel. My face is smooth and flat, just like No-Face. I have four arms. My daily conversations and schoolwork come to me on a conveyor belt. I swing my arms, occasionally using fine motions, and mechanically respond to the stuff coming and going on the conveyor belt, and send it back when done. Every time I move my arms, it’s so loud that  I can’t even think. But, today was something."
"Let's sing."
"What?"
"When you feel like that, you should sing."
"But I've never sung before...and I don't remember the songs we heard."
"You just said you listen to pop songs every day. Those'll do. Come on, I'll sing with you."
I couldn't resist her eyes. I took a deep breath and sang a song I listened to every day. Was this my real voice? I felt like I was hearing it for the first time. I was totally off-key. I heard Tachibana singing next to me. I never knew I could smile in such a carefree way, without worrying about raising the corners of my mouth.Once we finished singing, I started laughing and couldn’t stop for a long time. So this was "fun"? "Wow, I'm so awful at singing. Guess I'm human after all."

From that day, I went to BEATS to listen to records with Tachibana almost every day. When we didn't have enough money to buy coffee, we would go to the park and talk about music. Music is fascinating. I couldn’t describe what I was feeling with words like good, bad, pleasant, or sad. I tried to talk to my friends at school about records and music made by old bands. But they completely dismissed it, saying they were not interested in such ancient stuff. I told my mother about it, and she smiled sadly, saying "Yeah, things were like that back in the day."

When I saw my mother's expression, I remembered the azure-colored box that I had cherished as a child. It was a chocolate box I had received from my grandfather. Every time I opened it, its sweet smell made me happy. My grandfather was an eccentric person, and everyone in my family skirted around him cautiously. So he kept to himself in his study. I liked him, so I often went to see him when my parents weren't watching. However, one day my grandfather suddenly disappeared, and since then, the box and the study had never been opened again.

I wanted to know more about myself. 
I wanted to get to know Tachibana.

With my back to the summer garden and the bright afternoon sun, I brought myself to enter my grandfather’s study. It has been covered with dust, but things were just as I remember them. I gasped at the sight. Along with the vast collection of books was a cello case. That's right, my grandfather liked music. I liked listening to him play the cello. I had known music for a long time. Why did I forget such an important thing? I found my favorite box on the corner of a dusty shelf and opened it with my trembling hands.

The box was full of odds and ends. There was no scent of chocolate anymore. It was stuffed with lovely candy wrappers and a badge shaped like a dragonfly. A used box of matches. Without a doubt, they were my old treasures. I had tucked these items away so I wouldn’t forget the fun times and the things that gave me joy, but somehow, over time, they had turned into something to be shut away, not to be touched.
Just when did I lose such an essential part of me?

The following day, I told Tachibana about the record I had found. Her eyes brightened, and we agreed to listen to the record at BEATS after school. I felt as if my heart was heating up with anticipation. I couldn't sit still. The end of the class couldn't come soon enough. WAKUWAKU – the feeling of being pumped up –  might be a cliché, but that's the only way to describe the feeling.

"Kyosuke, got a minute after class?"
As dusk drew, I went to the faculty office and was given a handbook about my future career path. It listed the universities I was likely to be accepted into, the companies I should try to apply to, and details about my aptitude. I glanced briefly over the handbook and shut it, and its promise of a "happy future," away in my desk.

I walked briskly now, thinking of Tachibana.She was probably staring at the marble she always kept in her pocket, waiting with an expression of curiosity and expectation – the kind she never showed the others at school. I wanted to see her as soon as possible.

I caught someone waving at me from the corner of my eye. It was one of my "friends," with whom I ate lunch at school each day.

On my way to BEATS, I noticed a commotion of people coming and going. It seemed like something had happened nearby. I looked up, and I felt as if time had stopped.
I simply couldn't believe what I was seeing before my eyes.The cafe, our cafe, was going up in flames.Black smoke billowed into the sky, blocking my view. Was this reality?I looked for Tachibana, but the crowd seemed to block my path.

I caught someone waving at me from the corner of my eye. It was one of my "friends," with whom I ate lunch at school each day.

Sometime later, a nearby police officer came to take us into protective custody.I was deemed to be in an unstable mental state and was sent to an "emotional rehabilitation facility for minors" the management of which was entrusted to the government by schools and parents.I arrived at the facility and was led into a small room about 4 tatami mats across in size. The room contained only a bedroll and a well-being handbook, with a closed circuit security camera.

An unfamiliar device was strapped to my ankle. It was as heavy as a shackle.

The AI installed in the room dispassionately gave an explanation of the facility and equipment.

The facility served to help minors rehabilitate and grow into better people. The ankle device collected vital signs at any time with the security camera analyzing minute muscle and eye movements to detect emotional changes.

Once those levels normalized, the minor was free to leave the facility.

I would wake up at 5:00 AM every day, run 10 km, then give a self-introduction in a loud voice, showing penitence for what brought me there.

"I listened to man-made music, questioned the statements about emotions written in the handbook, and became too fixated on excessive displays of emotion! And I forced the people around me to harbor excessive emotions, too!"

But why?!"

"There is a diversity of emotions that cannot be expressed quantitatively, and I harbored doubts about my feelings being controlled! I thought having a richer emotional life was a good thing, and that my lifestyle would improve by sharing that with others!"

"And what happened as a result?!"

"It led to my friend instigating an arson incident. And one of my best friends may have died! I am entirely to blame for all of this!"

"What do you mean, 'may have’ died? Face the facts! Speak up! Say it again!"

"It's my fault that...that..."

I shouted the same line over and over again until I grew hoarse.

After my confession was over, I recited the well-being handbook in a loud voice.

I then slept for four hours, and the same thing repeated again the next morning. The data on my state of mind showed wild undulations at first, but with each passing day, it stabilized, becoming normal.

"Kyosuke, you've got it in you still! Good job, and take care of your mother."
It was a cold day in January when I was finally let out of the facility with that parting comment.

My mother had come to pick me up and was in tears.
"Mom, why are you crying? We're supposed to show 'joy' here. See, you spread your lips wide and pull the corners of your mouth up as far as they can go. I'm better now. Don't worry. I'm sorry. I  really am."

The next week, I was bound back for student life, so I headed into town to buy some new writing implements. I had been born and raised in this town, but it seemed somehow alien to me. 
On the way back, I walked a familiar route home. My body suddenly trembled. I looked up and found the place BEATS had once stood. It was a vacant lot as if nothing had happened.
I stood there for some time, staring at the lot, before heading back.
I had lost everything.
I frowned, bit my lip hard, and stared at the beautiful sunset. My eyes began to swell and up and tear. Was this "sadness"?

"Kyosuke.
"It was a familiar voice. I thought I would never hear that voice again. I turned around in spite of myself.
A symmetric, attractive face, with a birthmark below one eye and near the lips. It was without a doubt, Saki Tachibana.
"Why are you..."
"Kyosuke, give me your hand.
"She slowly pulled her hand out of her pocket and placed a black ball covered in soot in my hand. There were distinct, raw burn marks on her hands.

"Is this..."
As I wiped the soot with my fingers, a familiar glow emerged.
I polished the ball further, and her beautiful universe appeared within it.
"I only know how to smile the way the handbook taught me now, but I liked the time we spent together. So no matter how much they break me, I'll keep smiling within, in my heart."

Perhaps my friend was right. My feelings aren't anything special. My emotions are simple, and can probably be expressed entirely by data.

Yet, where is the fun in that? That's not what matters.

What matters is: What am I feeling now, in this instant? What do I want to do? What can I do for you, and for myself?

"Let's sing. I want to sing with you."