You're both too kind. I suppose it's like father, like son. If that's so, why don't I look anything like my father? I can't become what he is, even though I'm his son.
I started walking towards the bathroom, which was a little far from where I was.
I'm not strong, I'm not a good boy; the principal and his mother are wrong. Someone strong wouldn't resort to violence when there were other ways to resolve the conflict; after all, the strong should protect the weak.
A good boy wouldn't hit someone unless he had a valid reason. I know my reason isn't valid, and that's why I'm not a good boy.
I'm weak, both physically and mentally. The physical aspect is the least of it. As long as you're healthy enough to avoid any serious illness, that's enough. Being healthy isn't about being strong; it's something your body demands of you in order to live a good life.
In the end, you're still just as weak, that toothpick that has less strength than a girl. Anyone could beat me up if they wanted to, that's why I don't want to get into fights. I don't like fighting in the first place, or hitting anyone.
Usually I think it's because I don't want to hurt others, but other times I think it's because I don't want to be hurt. You sow what you grow.
But in this world I'm in, physical strength is generally something aesthetic, which can occasionally come in handy in specific situations beyond appearance. What really matters is mental strength.
Nobody cares if you're beaten up and then start crying at the slightest blow, or if you explode at the slightest sound from your boss who starts yelling at you for doing something wrong.
There are many types of mental weakness. You might be a little stupid, you might not fully understand the feelings of others, or the environment you're in. You might be clumsy, you might have trouble understanding something that's usually easy to accept. Hell, I could go on about things like that all day.
The mind, human behavior, and human relationships are so complex that we still don't know what we are, which is why I say there are an immense number of mental weaknesses.
In accordance with this, I am also someone weak.
I struggle to maintain composure with anyone who's talking to me, especially if they're speaking to me in a hostile manner. I have a very closed mind; I usually only see what's in front of me, and I make up the rest. I never give importance to other people's feelings.
My opinion of what they think of me always prevails over their true opinion.
It's me we're talking about, they're probably talking that way, they don't have to be laughing at me to know it. Whether they're laughing aggressively or kindly, it doesn't matter, they're laughing at me, and none of them are my friends.
Any offense that doesn't come from a friendship is always meant to hurt, that's what I always believe. It's just a girl laughing in the hallway with her friend, they're not even looking at me.
Just with that, I already think they're laughing at me.
I arrived at the bathroom, and without thinking twice, I entered. I was thirsty, and I wanted to clean my face and hands. I entered the bathroom and went to one of the sinks; it was quite clean.
"But what if they really laugh at you?"
Someone spoke to me through the mirror.
They already do it on their own.
"You're too optimistic if you think people pay that much attention to you."
It doesn't matter if it's not all of them, some people laugh at me when I walk through the hallways.
"The only thing they laugh about is the joke one of their friends told, for God's sake."
But what if they're laughing at me?
"What do you care? Ignore them. If they're really laughing at you, ignore them, fuck them. It's not like they deserve you to worry so much about something so insignificant."
Insignificant? Appearances are everything. How can you expect me not to worry about something like that? What if… they spread a rumor about me?
"If that happens, everything should be fine, as long as you behave yourself, of course. Not like now."
…That was just an impulse, I didn't even want to do that. I just wanted you out of my way. If you had listened to me and gotten out of the way…
"I never grabbed your arm, she did. And since she grabbed you, you hit her. You have no excuse, and you're still looking for one?"
It's not an excuse, it's what happened...
"All that happened was you punched him in the nose. End of story."
I already know that…
"So why do you worry so much about appearances? You've already made a great impression, what do you care what people say about you? You should know what they'll think after this."
…
"…You know, maybe this is one of the reasons why you don't have more friends."
And why do I need more friends? I already have them anyway, and that's enough. I don't need more friends than them.
"Do you think they're really friends?"
We've been together all through high school, of course we're friends!
"Would a friend leave another friend stranded like that, like _¨*^ did?¿· ?"
N-no, but, still, for once it won't happen...
"He was right there, in the same class, and he didn't even deign to speak to you during recess, when you two could have had some privacy. He's leaving you hanging, just accept it. He didn't want to deal with that rumor, didn't want to be seen as bad for hanging out with that alleged 'murderer.'"
If so, then I'll leave =@º\' behind too.when he went to fight. Am I not his friend either?
"You had the right not to hit me there. Why would a guy like me help out in a fight? And you didn't have to go looking for a teacher either. I doubt that's something I'd want in a situation like that. Well, it didn't end up being anything too serious."
As his friend, I should have done something, whether it was against my opinion or not what he would have wanted.
"=@º\' was pissed off that you didn't do anything. He wasn't mad at _¨*^?¿· , who was the one who called a teacher and took him to that place behind the building, he was mad at you for being late, only to see everything sort itself out."
'Thanks for the help, Riku,' he said in a sarcastic and angry voice.
He was just mad about the fight, he wouldn't think something so stupid.
"Oh, so he told you nothing's wrong? Have you spoken to him since then?"
...No, but I know he didn't mean it.
"What if he's still mad at you? Maybe that's why he hasn't said anything to you, even after the incident."
I'm sure he's having a bad time because of that.
"Ah, well _¨*^?¿· I was very calm in class, enough to ignore you."
…
"I'm sure &$%"! hasn't texted you for that very reason. He's probably so hurt that he hasn't said anything yet."
You'll need time to get over it. He liked her, after all.
"He'll be angry with you because you didn't say anything to him, because you didn't say anything the day it happened."
I didn't tell him at the time, but how could I? I was in shock, and-
"And you talk all this about no one talking to you, but you haven't even tried talking to them, except when _¨*^?¿· was ignoring you. You haven't made any effort to talk to them, you haven't even considered it, and yet, you want to try talking to Izumi, or that girl on the cell phone, whatever her name is. Aren't you embarrassed?"
…I don't care about Izumi anymore. I'm never going to talk to her again anyway. It's useless; I can't bring up any topics of conversation, and she responds in the most curt way possible. Maybe she's just avoiding me…
"Like everyone else. A friend wouldn't try to avoid another friend. They've probably made up their minds, so why are you still hesitating?"
… Because they are my friends, I don't want to doubt them.
"You're just afraid of losing them because you know you won't be able to make any more friends. That's why you think that way."
…
"That's why you're so weak."
I splashed water on my face to cool off a bit and cleanse my face. I'd already washed my hands, so I could rub my eyes freely. I had to close them to clean my face.
When I opened them again, he wasn't talking to me anymore, and the mirror was working again. It reflected the bathroom, showing all the stalls with toilets inside behind me, one of them almost closed, basically ajar.
Are they really still my friends? That's what made me wonder. A silly question at first, but the more I worried about it, the more doubtful I became. Everything he said made sense, after all.
…None of them went to his funeral.
When I was there with Suzune, I didn't see any of them attend the ceremony. I didn't go to the funeral, so I can't vouch for the reason, but it wasn't because I didn't want to go. I didn't want to be there with so many people. I wanted it to be a private gathering, so I could do the inevitable: cry.
If none of them have gone to the funeral...
I had more reason to believe what he told me.
After drinking water, I tried to dry my face with the automatic hairdryer in the bathroom, bending down a little to dry it. It was a rather pathetic sight to behold.
That's when it hit me. Wasn't everything very clean?
A second glance told me.
There was no urinal in sight.
Besides, everything was so clean. When I entered the bathroom, I was so lost in my own head that I didn't notice.
How cool, I'm in the girls' bathroom.
Unfortunately, I'm no master of masturbation, so I have no reason to be here.
"It's a good thing today is Saturday and there's hardly anyone in the halls. And I'd better keep my mouth shut because if not, someone will come in here and screw up my life even more."
It seemed like a situation straight out of an anime. There are already too many mistakes going on, I should stop.
"God, in case you're seeing me now, it was all an accident. I just wanted to wash my hands and face; I didn't mean to come in here in the first place. Please forgive my mistake with a shred of mercy."
I went to the girls' bathroom exit to look out into the hallway, trying to be as discreet as possible.
Fortunately, there was no one around to see me, either in the hallways or through the windows. I'm not so careless as to not check to see if there's a voyeur outside in the courtyard.
Not letting that opportunity slip by, I left the bathroom and stood near the boys' restroom. After double-checking that no one had seen me leave, I calmed down considerably.
I was grateful that all of this would be dismissed as a personal oversight. I don't know what I would do if something like that were misinterpreted.
"Thank you so much for your help, God. Now I'm going to stop believing in you, as usual."
Another thing that was already common was that feeling that maybe everything was going to go wrong, that I was blind and hadn't noticed someone outside in the hallway. It was an impulsive worry; I had no reason to worry.
I knew everything about that was going to be okay. No one saw me.
According to what the principal said, I'd be back in class in four days. I don't know if I'll be ready. Just imagining this hallway full of people, everyone staring at me, terrifies me.
I would feel much more oppressed than when Otsuki first spoke to me.
I wonder how her friends are doing.
I'm not too worried about them, since she'll probably explain everything to them. First of all, they'll probably have woken up the same way Otsuki did.
People love fiction and gossip, the more lurid the better, which is why part of my class, maybe even my high school, must have believed what people said about me.
All I want is to be able to ignore that video, never mention it again, let alone watch it again. I already see it enough in my head.
I was standing at the entrance to the school, staring at the door across from it that led to the courtyard. This was where I lost _¨*^?¿·. Was he really running away from me? Did he care about looking good? What if he even came to believe what people were saying about me?
It's impossible, he's a friend, it doesn't make sense for him to believe such things so easily, he knows me very well...
"…"
I've said many times that I feel like _¨*^?¿· and =@º\' aren't my friends, since I don't usually interact with them directly very often, I feel like I barely even know them. It's like they're only my friends when we're with &$%"!.
But no matter how distant I feel from them, I want to believe they're my friends. They may not be close friends, but at least I'm able to laugh with them from time to time, and I have a good time when I'm hanging out with &$%"! and them.
Of course, I have fun hanging out with just &$%"!, but I feel like I can be more silly when we're all together. As if that layer I have, which prevents me from doing certain things, lifts slightly, allowing me to be more childish; to have more fun.
Before leaving school, this time I did remember to change my sneakers, as usual. I didn't do it that time because I was in a hurry, but it's become a habit; I can't, and I won't, stop doing it.
With my sneakers on, I crossed the entrance door, which opens almost directly onto the street. There's a wall surrounding the school, and opposite the entrance is a large gate through which students enter.
The playground, the courts, and most of the school supplies are behind the building. In this small but long space left over, there's only a shed where they store school maintenance supplies, so they can have replacements or repairs if something breaks. It's also another perfect place for beatings.
I ignored how gloomy the cabin looked, and went outside.
Thanks to my excuse, which was more of a spontaneous plan, I was tasked with doing just one thing: giving her flowers as an offering from them.
So, conveniently, I could give her my own flowers, and be alone.
Alone next to her, once again.