One of the teachers played classical ballads on the piano as the rest of us warmed up for our badminton session. it felt like a scene out of a movie. The birdie flying in the air back-and-forth over the net. The whish of the rackets swinging. The squeak of sneakers on hardwood.

It was a perfect moment. One of those moments that can live inside of you for a long time without ever making itself known. Because it’s not a big bad or the highest of highs. It’s not a book being published or graduating college. It’s not falling in love or losing someone. It’s just a simple spot of joy.

This season is changed now. The beginning of summer is here. The slow but steady march of insects has started, and every outside adventure brings a light sheen of sweat. For now, this is the last summer I will spend on Tsushima.

I wonder if hearing the whish of rackets will remind me of the spontaneous piano ballads in the Kuta Junior high gym. Or if by then, I’ll have another perfect moment I associate it with.