A pleasant time

Only when sitting at a warm and peaceful corner of his favorite coffeehouse could I have the chance to watch him more closely. Most of the time at our regular meetings, I often avoided direct eye-contacts in some way that I did not fully understand at all. It’s not anything new that I was kind of a shy person, but in fact I’ve never been too cautious to miss any important detail.

Still, I hardly found many good opportunities to enjoy a full-hearted conversation, even though we have been close enough to have several jolly moments together from time to time. I still remembered, on the first day at his house and talking for the first time, how happy and grateful I was when finally getting closer to my dream goal that only few could share. Since that beginning day, I’ve brought along a great pride which later became an unconditional responsibility that I must willingly fulfill. And until today, I’ve never felt any little sign of frustration in this decision of mine.

I was totally right to follow him, at least this is the best thing I could make sure of right now. It looks as if, a fateful encounter has occured to me since that pleasant time.

I looked at his hair, gradually turning hoar through days and months. I’ve been watching his figure many times, when we were taking a break between discussions, or when there was a story from him that made me forget even my own little anxiety in my mind. Today I looked at the hoar frost on his hair again, while feeling every bit of moment passing inside that cozy restaurant. It was always a good time to talk casually with him, and even more pleasant in the case I could rekindle the motivation built throughout the exact one year we spent together as supervisors and students.

In terms of the major field, could I be able to obtain the honor of being regarded as a member of another family?

The way I looked at and interacted with him, naturally reminded me of my father. Dad was a little older than Sensei, and during our quiet moments at home, I also often looked carefully at his figure reading, watching, and eating, also some of his rare smiling in our family. And of course, his hair with some hoarfrost endpoints was symbolic to me. I could only watch him closely when we’re not talking, and for some reason, I hardly found it easy for me to make eye-contacts in a normal way, although we are father and son. In this case, I often relate the two of them together.

That made me think, there must always be some kind of mysterious force happening whenever I look honestly at any important man. Those avoiding eyes were never as simple as they seemed.

Responsibility and Recognition. They reminded of a long way ahead, yet strangely as far as a distance between eyes.

Once you pay attention.


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