Mono No Aware 【木漏れ日】
Japanese (n) lit. 'the pathos of things'
❝The beauty that comes from sensitivity to amd awareness of the impermanence of things❞
This book will be a collection short stories and oneshots written showcasing Mono No Aware. They wi...
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PORTICO /ˈpɔːtɪkəʊ/
(noun)
-A structure consisting of a roof supported by columns at regular intervals, typically attached as a smaller porch to a building.
｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆ - ☆｡･::･ﾟ★,｡･::･ﾟ☆
You glared at the intricate square patterns on the wooden door in front of you as you mentally prepared many ways of avoiding ringing the bell of the house.
A few days ago, it wouldn't have had been a problem. It never had been one before.
The thing was, you had always loved playing football in your backyard and it happened so that the makeshift goalpost you had, was in the direction of your neighbouring house's garden.
It was another thing that even though you loved it, you would always shoot the ball too high over when excited. And it just always happened so that the victim of your excitement was the neighbouring garden.
Actually, it wasn't a serious matter. That house had been locked up since the grandpa that lived there passed away. He used to adore you and your family, but you don't remember much as you were only a toddler back then.
He had asked your parents to take care of the house and especially the garden until the next tenant shifted there.
People generally avoid the houses where someone has passed away. So, naturally, the house remained empty.
But that was until a few days ago.
You had heard from your mom that a family from Busan had shifted there, but being the shy and awkward kid you were, you maintained your distance from them.
But, again, it was just your luck that you once again shot the ball into their garden. It is different from getting scolded by your own mom and some stranger.
And on top of that, your mom had given you rice cakes to deliver to your neighbours.
And way to go for the first impression.
Anyway, whoever was gonna open the door, was taking their own sweet time. After what felt like hours, the door was opened.
You somehow tried to gather all the courage to look up to the person. But your eyes met a pair of sharp dark brown eyes. Your heart skipped a beat. The person in front of you was a boy, around your age and with a face that would make even greek gods jealous...
You quickly squeezed your eyes and subtly bit the inside of your cheeks.
Opening your eyes, you just kept looking down. You tried to speak to him, any word, anything at all, but your voice failed you.
Anyway, even if you would have spoken anything, it would be embarrassing, talking with stuttering and all.
He questioningly stared at you, as if thinking for a moment
