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“Do you know, Airi-chan? The word ‘Seishun’ only exists in Japan.”
This was back when my older sister was in high school and I was still an elementary schooler.
One of my sister's band members, who had come over to our house to decide on a song for a school festival or something, said that.
“Aga, you really love that story, don’t you?”
“Takanori is a dreamer when it comes to youth, after all...”
On the table were band scores, along with Cola, Fanta, and Pocky.
While being teased by everyone, his eyes sparkled with pride as he spoke. I said to him,
“...It’s a Japanese word, so isn’t that just natural?”
When I said that, he replied that it wasn't like that.
For example, the original Chinese word ‘Seishun’ apparently just refers to a season. When I looked it up in a dictionary to see how it was in English, it came up as ‘youth.’ He explained that simply means ‘young person,’ and it’s a bit different from ‘Seishun.’
Apparently, there is no word other than ‘Seishun’ to describe adolescence while naturally carrying those sweet-and-sour, almost itchy nuances as if it were a matter of course.
That person probably hadn’t researched every single language, and since he wasn’t a native speaker, it was doubtful whether the words ‘Seishun’ or ‘youth’ in China or English-speaking countries truly lacked those emotions.
Looking back now, he was probably just a romantic high schooler who wanted to tell a small child something that would impress them.
But that plan was likely several times more successful than he intended, and since then, I had spent my time being somewhat interested in the word ‘Seishun.’
That might have been part of the reason.
A while after I went abroad with my parents, my heart swelled with emotion when I saw a Japanese school-themed anime for the first time.
From my perspective, living overseas, I felt they were slightly overestimating the brilliance of high school life. It was almost as if they were saying, ‘After high school ends, the rest is just the remainder of your life,’ which made me tilt my head in confusion.
Even so, I became curious if Japanese high school life—if ‘Seishun’—was really that wonderful.
Then, around this time last year, I tried asking Papa and Mama.
“I want to go to a Japanese high school.”
I thought they might oppose it, but Papa and Mama were a couple who met at a Japanese high school and got married, so they were overjoyed. In no time at all, my admission to Musashino International High School as a September student was decided.
I put on a uniform that was a bit plainer than I had imagined, and about two weeks after I entered the school, I realized.
Actual Japanese high school life does not have that kind of brilliance.
‘Is Seishun really that wonderful?’
The answer was simple and cruel.
Youth is a lie.
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