Since it was Friday, the day usually flew by for a student like me. Before I knew it, the bell rang to signal the end of classes.
Normally, this would be the perfect time to head home and waste the afternoon reading or playing video games. But before that, I had something to take care of—going behind the school to meet the supposed sender of the letter that had been slipped into my locker this morning.
It was way too suspicious. And honestly, I'm not nearly attractive enough to have some kind of secret admirer. Still, curiosity was enough to push me to walk over there.
Thinking about it now, I'm not even sure if the letter was the typical confession from a girl. It could just as easily have been from a guy. No—that'd be way too weird and unsettling…
Sorry, but I like girls.
While I was busy entertaining stupid thoughts, I arrived at the spot. As expected, there was no one around. Maybe I came too early… or maybe it was just a prank to mess with me?
That wouldn't be too far-fetched either, though I doubt anyone would bother writing a letter just to waste a couple of minutes of my time.
A few seconds after I arrived, two guys walked up and stopped in front of me.
Is there any way to say I like girls without hurting their feelings?
Like in any school, there are students whose names you hear everywhere even if you've never met them—either the popular kids or the stars of the sports clubs.
They're like those commercials you see over and over on TV—whether you want to or not, you end up remembering them.
That's why there was no mistaking these two. The one on the left was Kato Kazuki: athletic, about the same height as me, with striking purple hair, and captain of the soccer team. The one on the right was Fujita Ren: also athletic, slightly taller than me, with dark green hair that made him especially popular with the girls—probably because he's captain of the basketball team.
Anyone would call them the definition of "cool students." Popular with girls, the center of attention at school events—it all fit.
At this point, I had no idea what two people like them would want with me. But piecing things together, I think I could already guess. And it definitely wasn't anything good.
I wondered… what approach would they take? Just a simple threat, or a "lesson"? Staying quiet wouldn't change anything, so I decided to speak first.
"Hey, are you waiting for someone too?" I asked, a casual line that even surprised me with how good I was at playing dumb.
Where are Hollywood recruiters when you need them?
"First of all, let me confirm something. You're Tsurumi, right?" Kazuki, the soccer captain, asked in a straightforward tone, staring directly into my eyes.
Since I wasn't well-known, I was basically invisible to most students.
Looks like they did their homework if they managed to find my name in just a day. Should I give them a gold star?
"Yeah, that's me." I replied in a flat tone, keeping my hands in my pockets.
As soon as I answered, I saw Kazuki step toward me with confidence, arrogance written all over his smile.
Given the situation, it was clear they'd chosen the "lesson" route over a simple threat.
I sighed inwardly at what was about to happen.
When Kazuki finally stood in front of me, I felt a sharp pain in my stomach—his fist had landed squarely. If I had to compare, I'd say it was about the strength of someone above average for our age.
The blow knocked the air out of me, leaving me coughing.
And without the slightest hesitation, Ren, the basketball captain, closed the distance and smashed his fist into my cheek.
That hit sent me crashing to the ground.
I won't deny it hurt—it's to be expected from the basketball captain, after all.
Once I was down and defenseless, both Kazuki and Ren started kicking me.
Didn't anyone ever teach them to play nice with others?
Great, now my uniform's dirty. Ah, I'll have to remember to do the laundry when I get home.
"This is what happens when you insult and mock Aiko and Hana." Ren said with a hateful tone.
I feel like I've heard those names before, but if I can't recall them, they're not worth remembering. Still, given the context, I guess they're talking about the two idiots from yesterday. An insult traded for a beating—fair enough, in my opinion.
I should've brought a scale to prove it.
While they both kept kicking me, I noticed three girls watching from a distance, staring intently at the scene. I suppose it must've been quite the spectacle.
As I fixed my gaze on the three figures, it became clearer.
…So that's it. This wasn't just about teaching me a lesson—it was for her as well. Far too sinister for middle schoolers. Boys these days are too hot-blooded. Though I guess that includes me too.
The girl I'd been having lunch with this past week was standing there, unable to do anything. That cheerful, confident look she had just hours ago was now shattered and broken.
She screamed and tried to run toward me, but the two masterminds behind all this grabbed her arms, holding her back. She fell to her knees, powerless.
A few seconds later, both girls walked up and stood right in front of me.
"I think he understands his place now. I hope you've learned not to mess with us, you pathetic idiot."
Who would've thought girls could be this cruel? The irony.
After one of them said this with that superior tone, the two boys finally stopped kicking me.
I've had worse days, so this is just another mark on my calendar.
"Ren, how about we go to the movies and then karaoke? Since you don't have practice today." One of them clung to his arm.
"Sounds like a good idea. What do you think, Kato?"
"Count me in," Kazuki said cheerfully.
The other girl, mimicking her friend, clung to the other boy's arm. It wouldn't surprise me if they were actually dating. In fact, that would explain why they didn't hold back against some poor guy who just spoke the truth.
Seems like being honest is a crime in this country...
As they left, they stopped in front of the poor girl still on her knees, her face frozen with fear and sadness. I think they whispered something to her while touching her shoulder, but I was too far to hear. After that, they finally left the place.
Moments later, she struggled to her feet and walked slowly toward me.
No point in lying on the ground any longer, so I stood up, stretched a little, and brushed the dust off my uniform.
Still waiting for my academy award, or at least an invitation…
"I'm sorry…" Once she reached me, she started crying, apologizing as if all of this was entirely her fault.
"Why?" I tilted my head, wanting to hear her answer.
"It's my fault they beat you up. If only I hadn't confronted them today…" She wiped her tears with her hands.
I see—she thinks this happened because she stood up to them.
"Not at all." I waved my hands. "This would've happened either way." That's the undeniable truth.
She looked at me with doubt, still crying.
"What do you mean…?"
"I don't blame others for my decisions, so don't take on guilt for something that isn't your responsibility."
Yesterday, I picked a fight with those two because they ruined my lunch. That was my choice.
"But…"
"And stop crying. I'm the one who got beaten up, so why are you the one in tears?" I gave her a puzzled look.
I'm the one who felt the pain, so her sobbing like she's the victim doesn't make much sense. Besides, we're not even friends for her to worry this much about me.
"I'm sorry…" She kept crying as she answered.
"Let's just leave it at that." I shook my head. A lost cause.
With nothing else to do here, I started walking home to get ready. But after a few steps, I felt her grab my wrist.
I turned my head and saw her staring at the ground, silent. Guilt, fear, and other messy emotions—she didn't know what to say or do.
Maybe I share a bit of the blame for this too. If I had just… no, that would've been a terrible idea. In school, things would've only gotten worse. Long-term trouble is the worst kind.
"My whole body hurts, I'm sore to the point I can barely walk. If only there were someone who could help me to the infirmary," I said in a tired tone.
I just want to go home, but I'm not in a hurry. I still have a couple of hours to get ready anyway.
"Let me… help you…" She looked straight into my eyes with whatever little resolve she could gather.
That girl came to my side and tried to help me walk. Of course, I didn't put any weight on her—after all, I can walk just fine on my own.
That's exactly why I prefer to avoid getting involved in other people's problems.
What really bothers me is that they used me as a way to intimidate someone else, and that's entirely my fault.
My personal rule is not to get involved in other people's issues… but if I can't run from it anymore, then I'm free to do as I please.
If I'm already at the party, why not dance?
Slowly but steadily, we made our way to the infirmary. Luckily, the nurse wasn't there.
Once inside, I sat down on one of the beds to rest. A little break should be enough—though, truthfully, I'm perfectly fine. I've had worse days, times when I actually needed to rest just to keep moving.
As I was thinking back on those exhausting days, the girl who had accompanied me here came over with some medical supplies—gauze, cotton, alcohol, and more.
"It's not necessary. I'm fine," I said, shaking my head. I appreciated the gesture, but since I had no real injuries, there was no need to treat me like a patient.
"My father's a doctor, so I know the basics of first aid…" She said nervously, lacking confidence.
Honestly, this girl is…
"I do feel a little pain on my cheek," I admitted, giving up on protesting.
A small smile formed on her face.
Since she had been kind enough to bring me here and wanted to help, I couldn't be so ungrateful as to refuse.
With care and gentleness, she cleaned the spot on my cheek that had turned reddish from the hit I took. After the proper steps, she placed a piece of gauze and taped it neatly over the affected area.
"You're good at this." She was careful and showed she knew how to handle the supplies she had picked up from the shelf.
"It's just something basic I picked up when I used to visit my dad at work…" she said, averting her gaze as if recalling those days. "Though I never thought it would be much help… I was just a kid trying to get my father's attention." Her last words came out disheartened.
She's right—this is basic knowledge… but what sets her apart is the way and care she puts into it.
It's common for parents to be absorbed in their work, so children often try to get their attention by imitating them.
"Is that so? Well, I'm grateful for your help, so I don't think it's useless at all."
It's the least I can do for dragging her into my mess. Being considerate toward others is something I usually reserve for my family.
She looked at me doubtfully, as if she couldn't believe I had actually said that.
"Thank you… You're the first person who's ever told me that." A faint smile appeared on her face.
Words of gratitude aren't unusual—in fact, they're quite common in Japan. But if you're surrounded by people who belittle you and use you, it's inevitable your self-esteem takes a hit. You grow timid, even afraid to disobey others. The kind of psychological fear they can inflict is terrifying—I know that from experience.
If she keeps that attitude, her future won't be very bright. And judging from what happened today, it's likely she'll want to retreat into her own bubble.
"I'm not in a hurry, so if you want to talk, I'm all ears." I had about two or three hours to spare, so there was no problem.
Speculation and guesses won't get you very far, but if I know the root of the problem, I can do something. I won't solve her issue, but I can help her find a way to solve it herself. It's my way of making up for what happened today.
Her eyes lingered on me for a few seconds, as if she thought it strange to share something personal with a stranger. Opening up isn't easy.
So, to lighten the mood and give her a bit more confidence, I decided to start first.