I don't like early morning.
In the morning, I'm always feeling not good. I feel so cold like I am in the middle of the blizzard.
When I woke up at 7 a.m., I looked around. The Dreamer was sleeping on the pillow.
Something had changed in the house and I knew that. It was because of Him.
Leon slept in my living room and I could feel his presence. For the first time in my house was another person.
It was a strange feeling, but I did not feel uncomfortable.
To keep warm, I, in dark red pajamas with a picture of a penguin, walked into the kitchen.
As I passed the living room, I looked at him.
Leon slept on the sofa covered with plaid. His expression was very peaceful and happy.
I wanted to stay and look at him for longer, but considering this idea strange, I just began to brew myself coffee, completely forgetting about chocolate.
Ten minutes later, I was in my suit.
Taking my briefcase and deciding today not to wear a tie, I looked at him again, and then quietly left the house.
When I got to university, Ikuta caught me asking, "Where did you go?"
"I went home."
"Who was that young man? Your friend?" he asked what surprised me. He never asked me anything before.
I didn't know what to say.
"Julia was upset," he added, and slightly embracing me continued, "You know, she asked for your phone number, and I gave her that."
"What? Why would you do that?"
"Because she looked so sad when you left. And when she saw you with that guy, she even thought you were."
"You don't have to give my number!"
"Why are you so angry? And besides, you have to thank me," Ikuta said as if he didn't care who I was with.
And then I said, "What about your daughter? You don't care about her feelings?"
"I talked to her, and you know, I explained everything to her. And besides, seeing you as my son-in-law and the father of my grandchildren is just too weird and creepy. My daughter is too good for you."
"Is Julia good enough for me?"
"Well, she's smart. And she's as weird as you are."
I stopped by my office, Ikuta still wouldn't let go of my hand.
"Tell me, why are you doing this? You know me."
"Dear Skye, remember John Donne's words."
"But I'm already happy."
"Yes, but you can be even happier."
"Ikuta, I have to go."
Once I entered the auditoriums, everyone fell silent at once.
Today was a cloudy day, and from this in the audience reigned autumn gloom.
A cool wind burst in, bringing foliage with it.
I opened my briefcase and took out my papers.
Today's topic was quite interesting. Namely, the meaning of life.
Sitting comfortably on a chair, I folded my arms in front of me and caught the sight of a young girl with red hair.
When the first rumbles of thunder were heard in the distance, I began my lecture.
For an hour, my students and I discussed human life. And each of us tried to find the meaning of life.
And then I added my thought, "Sometimes when a person tries to find his meaning of life, he or she does not know that he or she is looking for a great lie. Human tries to do everything to find the meaning of his or her existence. A human starts a family, raises children, works. He or she does everything to be as involved as possible in life. And that's a good thing. There is life in the movement. But why then in the end, when all the energy is in the past, a person realizes that lived the wrong life. Why do many people regret what they did? Why do so many people realize that they lived and played, that they were just pretending? Maybe because the search for meaning led to the fact that a person instead of becoming an individual, a personality, just lived a fake life. If you take this into account, is it so important to find your meaning of life? And is it worth looking for?"
"Professor, but what if a person does not try to find his meaning of life? Doesn't that mean a man would lose all his color?" asked a girl with red hair.
"When it comes to the meaning of life, there's a catch," I replied.
"Which one?" she asked.
"If a person follows his dream, walks on his own path, and not on the path that was dictated by someone, then he or she will certainly find the meaning of life. But mostly, people live in order to please someone to prove something to someone, and therefore, a person lives the life that it is completely alien to him or her."
But in all my work as a professor, I've seen a lot of young people who've studied things they didn't like at all. How many graduates I released who were ultimately unhappy because they chose the path that was dictated by someone.
Sometimes I was worried about the future lives of my students. I didn't want them to live the fake lives.
When everyone left the auditorium, I went to the window and suddenly felt someone's presence behind me.
It was that girl with red hair.
"Professor, you didn't ask us our homework today," she said shrilly looking at me.
"You need to rest. Besides, soon exams, better prepare for them."
It's only now that I've realized I haven't seen her before. These almost dark red eyes have not yet looked at me through the prism of knowledge. And I said, "What's your name?"
«Hoshi.»
«You are new here?»
"Yes. I'm an exchange student. From Japan," she replied by taking a few steps in my direction.
When she put her backpack on the table, I noticed that she was wearing leather jacket and leather pants.
"I've always wanted to go there."
"Professor, I must admit, from all the universities I have tried to study at, this university is suitable for me. And your lectures, I'm just in love with them."
"Glad to hear that."
"Would you like a cup of coffee? At the same time, I will tell you about my culture," she suddenly suggested.
"I was just about to go to the canteen for breakfast."
Smiling, she nodded her head.
I followed her, and as we walked down the long corridor, someone stopped me by touching my shoulder.
I turned around and saw him.
Leon, looked at me and then turned his eyes to Hoshi.
While I had time to think about something, he suddenly said to me, "Professor, it's time for us to go."
"If you're busy, I won't bother you," Hoshi said, bowing, walked away.
Heavy clouds hung over the city. Children were running past holding colorful umbrellas.
Rows of houses and shops stretched along a quiet road on which only a few cars could pass.
The whole town was so quiet.
It's different in the summer. In summer, the city has a very different sound. And spring and autumn the same way. With each season, the city speaks different languages.
I walked past the vegetable stalls that were covered with cellophane. I liked the aroma of the fruit that so desperately kept the voice of summer.
Walking past the little cafes and bookstores, I followed Leon. He was walking like a soldier, but at the same time he threw his feet forward with such ease, as if he had no weight.
He was wearing a yellow shirt and blue jeans. Both of his hands were in his pockets. His gaze was directed straight forward, and brightly sunny hair, as if the flame of fire were dancing in the wind.
I walked and looked at his broad shoulders. His gait was truly beautiful. And I followed him as if I were following my dream.
When we reached the end of the city, to the place where the rows of shops and small houses were ending, he suddenly stopped and looked at me without saying anything, continued his way.
Only now we were heading towards the forest.
I liked this city so that it is easy to be alone with nature. You just have to walk and here you are in the woods.
Pines and aspens towering to the sky, kept in themselves the tranquility of nature.
I was still following him. The soft grass under the feet was strewn with raindrops that seemed like beads.
I was wondering where he was leading me, but when we stopped at a tree that was standing away from the others, Leon abruptly sat down on the ground and looked at me.
"I read your book, " he suddenly said leaning against the tree.
To my surprise, the lush tree well sheltered us from the light rain.
I sat down next to him and unbuttoned my jacket.
"So you read my book, which one?"
"Chain Reaction."
"What?"
"Are you angry about it?"
He turned his head to me. Dark green eyes made me shudder.
"Let me guess, were you denied publishing this book?" he asked, combing his bangs back.
Looking at him in profile, I am even more confused about how old he is. And then I noticed that in profile, his little nose had a small dorsal hump that gave him an aristocratic look.
"Yes. My publisher thought this book was too loud."
"Of course, he would think so."
Sitting so close to each other made me nervous.
"But your book will be published. Don't doubt it."
«Why do you think so?»
"Stupid question," he said, and suddenly got up and headed toward the forest.
The rain stopped, and I went after him again. Only now, we walked through a dark forest in which at times you could meet squirrels.
As we walked along the path sprinkled with pine cones, Leon suddenly asked, "Do you like to teach people?"
"Yes. I like it."
"Do you like the teachings of ancient philosophers?"
"Perhaps yes. Although some of them I do not like."
"It's always like that."
I wanted to ask him who he was. And I found the courage to start asking him questions.
"You're a writer?"
"Yes," he said.
"And what do you write?"
"Everything. I write about everything in the world."
"Why didn't I notice your books. Have you published?"
"Yes," he said.
"But why didn't I notice your books?"
"Probably because you were always busy creating light for people," he said, and his words made me smile.
Who is he? Why him? So many questions that I didn't know what to do next. I wanted to know more. For the first time in my life, someone's mystery fascinated me.