Tsugumi begins

Admiring my older brother, who was a small-town Yankee, and my older sister, who modeled as a gal, I followed in their footsteps.

That early summer of my first year in junior high, I made my already thin eyebrows even thinner. I lightened my hair.

Colored contacts? Check. Fake lashes? Bought.

I spent my New Year's money on AVIRA PINK clothes. The upperclassmen carrying their novelty tote bags looked so cool.

I wasn’t just a kid in Pink Latte anymore.

We were junior high students now!

At the time, when my family had gone to bed, I would pile pillows under my blanket, sneak out the window without making a sound, and gather at a friend’s or senior’s house. Then, I’d quietly return home at dawn, eat breakfast like nothing happened, and get ready for school.

The school was only a one-minute walk from my house. But as a proud member of the "barely-on-time" crew, I made sure to arrive exactly at the last minute—8:30 sharp.

The school’s warning bell would ring, signaling us to hurry. At the same time, a teacher would stand by the school gate, shouting, "Run! Hurry up!"

But the more they rushed me, the less I wanted to listen. So one day, I stopped hurrying altogether. I’d loiter around the park under my apartment, waiting—not really waiting—until the teacher finally gave up and left.

Then, I’d stroll into school at my own pace.

For some reason, arriving right at 8:30 got me scolded, but if I showed up just before the first period started, I was praised for "at least making it."

Realizing this loophole, I milked it for all it was worth.

I was a cunning, overconfident 13-year-old. But even as I watched my peers smoke, I thought to myself, "If I quit being a delinquent someday but still have the habit of smoking, I’ll probably regret it. Better not start."

Clearly, my rebellious phase never made it past the chūnibyō stage.

Then came my first summer break in junior high.

Despite my antics, the one assignment I eagerly completed first was the book report. For my independent study, I even wrote my own book.

I wasn’t athletic. I wasn’t great at academics. I was never the best at anything.

But writing—writing was the one thing I had always been praised for by my teachers.

Twelve years have passed since then.

I still love writing down my honest thoughts, reflecting on them.

Not as work, not for any reason—just for the freedom of it, like an independent study project.

Even now, as an adult, I think it’s a blessing to still have that love. I’ve met more friends who share this passion, and together, we talk about the things we love. Having spaces like that, where I belong, makes me happy.

I have no grand ambitions.

I just love this. 😍

And so, in the summer of my 25th year, I started TSUGUMI.

A new independent study project. I hope you’ll read it from time to time. ♡

And with that long-winded, laid-back introduction—hello!

Text Himawari

@hmwr3112