A PURE HEART

ii

the red-haired girl is older now, two or three years. maybe even four. he can never keep track of the time passing by. his task is training men his age and sometimes even the younger girls. mostly those who have failed during their previous training. he would often hurt them, his metal arm is a lot stronger than their normal ones. although he never intends to.

his long hair tickles his cheek but it doesn't bother him too much. if he went to ask somebody to cut it, they would surely do it but he kind of likes it. in his clear moments, he thinks that it makes him look cooler. the red-haired girl walks out of the changing room, her bag in her hand and her ballet shoes tied together with their laces, hanging around her neck. she walks past him, her head hanging down, not bothering to look at anyone. he cannot remember her name, even though she tells him her name every time she comes to his gym for training. his memory has never been the best, he cannot even remember a single detail about himself. no name, no birthday. but strangely, it doesn't bother him at all.

he sees that her knees are blue and he assumes that she has either fallen on her own account or that she had been tripped. he often trains with her, he assumes that she still struggles to keep her posture straight while dancing. even though he finds her movements to be very elegant, especially when he trains her.