I was about six years old, sitting behind a window near the teacher's lounge.

Since then, I know my heart is getting colder.

In my heart, I always feel like I'm a burden to my mother. Looking at my friends around, I know they have more people who suffer than themselves. But what can I do, I'm not God, the less capable I will be of changing fate, I'm determined to try to help my mother partly, sweep the house, clean the house, fold the clothes... which we... can do.

Maybe it's because I always pray to the gods on the high ground every night, hoping my mother will be promoted to a higher rank and that I won't suffer anymore.

I can't see what the world is like, what the color of the sky is like. If one thing is lost, God will give me another. I can smell the air, the scent of leaves, flowers, and old pages. I can hear the sound of the wind blowing.

Yes, I was given a strange gift by God.

That's, "The Ears of the Wind," just as long as there's no wind, I can hear everything around the ci