"When I was in elementary school, things weren't easy for me. Oddly enough, a group of girls decided to bully me."
It sounds like a bad joke, but if you stand out and choose to ignore them, things can get pretty annoying.
She looked at me with curiosity—seems like I had her attention. So, I kept going.
"That's why, once I entered middle school, I decided to wear contact lenses to avoid any more trouble and try to live in relative peace."
Why wear contact lenses at that age? That's the question I could clearly see written on her face.
I pulled out a small case from my pocket and removed my contacts. I'm the kind of person who likes to avoid problems, so I'll do whatever I can. But if I can't… well, things can get complicated.
Once I stored them back in the case, I looked at her directly.
Genetics can be strange. For instance, on my mother's side of the family, red eyes are common, though the shade varies. My mom and aunt didn't inherit it, so people expected their kids wouldn't either. But I did—and so did my three cousins.
Rumi was the exception; she inherited my paternal grandmother's black eyes.
Back then, I didn't worry much. Kids will be kids—they gave me nicknames, nothing too serious. But as time passed, the crimson in my eyes grew more intense, and paired with my naturally stern expression, it gave me a rather sinister look.
So, after an incident during our last elementary school trip, I decided to start using colored contacts that turned my eyes brown.
Maybe it sounds like an overreaction, but that's how it was. I would've at least hoped my crimson eyes gave me the ability to copy other people's skills… but all I got was bullying, lol.
After I said that, I felt her eyes fixed on me. Unlike before, she seemed genuinely interested—or at least that's what I could guess from the way she stared.
My parents told me my gaze isn't that bad and doesn't need to be hidden, but parents never outright tell you you're ugly.
My self-esteem is fine. Insults and teasing don't really affect me. If it had only stayed at that level, I wouldn't have bothered with contacts at all. But in the vast world of schools, the same situation—or something similar—would likely repeat. I'd rather be cautious.
I'm not the type to complain or curse my eye color. Part of me, the kid inside, actually thinks it looks kind of cool—like one day I might awaken some dark powers. Still waiting for that to happen… I've gotten pretty hooked on light novels with that kind of plot lately.
"They're beautiful…"
"…Huh?"
I stared at her, probably with a look of disbelief, as if I couldn't believe the words I had just heard.
Were we talking about the same thing?
"I mean… I don't think you should hide them."
She's the first person outside of my family to ever say something like that. I had gotten used to nicknames and teasing. Even a certain someone once told me something similar, but their opinion didn't matter to me, so I brushed it off.
"You flatter me, but I'd rather avoid any trouble in the future—or at least until I get into college." I shook my head slowly.
In college, people aren't childish enough to mock someone over eye color… or so I'd like to believe.
"I see…" she said, a little saddened by my refusal.
"It's not like I have some deep conflict about it. I just prefer being cautious." Now that the conversation had shifted this way, I wanted to confirm something. "Besides, if we're talking about something beautiful, I think your eyes are far better."
An empty compliment? Flirting? Not at all. I said it specifically to understand why she was so submissive toward those girls.
Normally, situations like that happen because the victim has low self-esteem—usually from bullying or personal insecurities.
When someone struggles internally, they're more vulnerable to others telling them what to do. Seeking acceptance, they end up becoming a sort of servant, used only to follow orders or play the clown for the group.
The other case, more common, is when those people are the typical bullies. Through threats or blackmail, the victim can only obey without resistance.
"My beautiful eyes? You must be mistaken…" She turned her gaze away, her face clouded with sadness.
So, it was the first case. She's insecure, and those two girls were exploiting that weakness to keep her as their servant.
Taking psychological advantage of others is common nowadays. But it only works when they find someone truly vulnerable—someone they can exploit to the fullest.
"So, I'm a liar?" I raised a brow.
Her expression shifted to distrust and fear, since my tone was sharper than usual—almost as if her words had insulted me.
"I… didn't mean it like that."
All it took was for me to roughen my tone for her to get nervous. I'm certain that if I gave her an order, she'd obey without resistance.
What she's dealing with isn't recent; it's deeply ingrained in her. Those doubts, that fear of rejection—it's made her terrified of standing up to anyone. Yet, she knows people are just taking advantage of her, so it isn't hopeless.
Besides, a few minutes ago she mentioned confronting those girls, which means she only needs a little push to try solving this… though what happened earlier today made things more complicated.
Helping her with compliments to boost her self-esteem might work, but it would also make her more dependent on others' approval. Sooner or later, she'd fall back into the same pattern.
Last time, I gave her advice indirectly, letting her search for an answer in my words. But now, since we're in the same situation, I decided to speak plainly.
Am I being too kind? Maybe. Am I any different from those two bitches? Maybe not.
"I'm guessing you've known them since before middle school, right?"
Expecting her to just open up was asking too much, but there are other ways to figure it out.
"Yes…" She nodded.
That was enough to form a hypothesis.
"At first they were nice to you, but little by little they became rude and bossy, until they were coercing you into obeying them."
She only nodded again.
It's one thing when this kind of bullying starts in middle school, but if it's been there since elementary, it's a lot harder to overcome—but not impossible. If she really were a lost cause, there'd be no point in helping her. Thankfully, she isn't.
"You know, humans have always sought the approval of others—it's normal, part of being in society. To the point where we often feel we need recognition for almost everything we do. And that's not entirely bad, since it feels good when people acknowledge our actions."
"Unfortunately, every good thing has a downside. You can end up relying on that recognition so much that you won't feel good unless others approve of you. Your life will revolve around chasing validation, and little by little you'll lose your free will, only doing things for the sake of being acknowledged."
The only one who can help her is herself. That's why, as a way of apology, I'll give her this.
"But do humans truly need the approval of others? Is it really impossible to live without being recognized?"
A bit of a silly question, since everyone lives life differently. But still, there's an average measure of human quality of life, and even if it's subjective, being in that range works as a gauge.
"The answer is maybe. It all depends on the person. Some accept they'll always need approval, but the real question here is… do you need it?"
I looked straight into her eyes.
"I… I don't know." She lowered her gaze.
That's better than a "yes." I should keep going.
"We're students, we're young, and we think that to fit in at school we need friends to talk to, hang out with, people to trust. But that's not essential. You can spend most of your time alone, and nothing will really change."
I can confirm that—I've been on my own by choice since elementary and middle school. I don't mind talking to others if necessary, and if they speak to me, I answer normally.
"From what I see, those two girls are the closest thing you have to friends. But do you really think a friend would treat you that way? I don't know what your definition of 'friend' is, but that's not it." My last words carried a hint of scorn, as if she were stupid for letting it happen.
She muttered something back, but her voice was so low I couldn't catch it.
"If you keep people like that around you, you'll only hurt yourself in the long run. The simplest thing would be to walk away, but since you won't, you'll stay stuck in the same situation, unable to…"
"I know! I already know that!" She cut me off, raising her voice.
I'm not good at helping people, but my only way of doing it is forcing them to realize things on their own. If that means being harsher, then so be it.
"Then why do you allow it?"
"I'm scared… scared of being rejected, of being alone, of no one talking to me again… They could start rumors about me, make everyone ignore me, push me away…" Tears welled up in her eyes.
"And that's a bad thing?"
She looked at me, dumbfounded, as if she couldn't understand.
"What… do you mean?"
"Tell me, do you really need the approval and recognition of strangers—or people who have nothing to do with you—to be happy?"
That's something I'll never understand. Why should I care what strangers think of me? As far as I'm concerned, they can all go to hell.
"…I don't know…"
"Let me tell you something—you're an idiot."
"Huh…?"
My words shifted the heavy atmosphere in the room.
"You don't need anyone's approval, especially not from strangers or people trying to take advantage of you. I'm not saying you should hate everyone or cut them all off, but you do have the ability to choose whose words are worth listening to—and whose aren't."
Simply put, she could've ignored all this from the start and moved on. Of course, there's always the chance those girls might change their methods and try something physical.
"I…"
"You're the only one who decides the course of your life. If you want to accept words that only hurt you, that's your choice. But why should you?"
"…."
"I'll only say this once: don't be someone who needs others to give your life meaning. If someone calls you ugly, fine. If they call you pretty, fine. In the end, it's up to you to decide which words to believe, because you're the only one who truly knows. And let me make this clear—if I had to say who's more beautiful, you or those two, I'd choose you."
That last part might've been unnecessary, but I wanted to give her that first push of confidence—whether she believes me or not is up to her.
My words hit their mark. What I wanted all along was for her to rethink her situation. Should she really be accepting other people's words so easily?
This isn't her main problem, but it's the root of it. Comforting words alone would be pointless. She needs to understand the reason and the cause behind what's happening to her.
Maybe the reason I knew how to handle this was because Rumi went through the same thing. Since the situations were similar, I already knew what needed to be done.
Her face showed a mix of emotions, as expected. In the end, she was the one responsible for this. Seconds passed in silence, filling the infirmary.
Little by little, her expression calmed, as if her thoughts had finally settled.
"I think you've found your answer then. So, if I say your eyes are beautiful, what do you say?" I asked bluntly.
It all started with that line, so it should end with the same.
"Thanks for noticing…"
Her self-confidence had nearly disappeared, but now it was back. When someone compliments you, you thank them for recognizing it. Call it a little egotistical if you want, but a bit of it isn't bad.
"Took you long enough to get it."
Out of instinct and habit, my hand went to her head and I patted her gently. It's something I always do with Rumi whenever she messes up. What can I say—I'm a caring, understanding older brother.
I noticed a faint blush spread across her face from the gesture. I pulled my hand back quickly, realizing it. For a moment, my "onii-chan instinct" had taken over.
"Thank you… not just for your words, but for everything you've done for me." The resolve and spirit she had shown during lunch had returned.
"It's nothing. Just my way of making up for what happened earlier."
She shook her head. "That wasn't your fault. Actually, I…"
I raised my hand to stop her.
"The reason doesn't matter. If I had known they'd drag you into this, things would've gone very differently."
It's one thing if it's just me, but if I had known from the start that they'd bring her into it, those two girls would've been in for a nasty surprise. I prefer avoiding trouble, but if I can't, then I deal with it—and I'm not exactly gentle when I do.
I don't like dragging others into my problems. In the end, you're the only one who can help yourself deal with them.
"In that case… if they had tried to do something to me then, you would have…" She looked at me expectantly.
I had to answer her the same way.
"The answer's obvious." I smirked arrogantly. "I may not look it, but I'm pretty strong." I struck a bodybuilder pose.
She burst out laughing at that.
Sitting by the infirmary window, a soft breeze drifted in, making her hair sway gently. Something so normal somehow turned breathtaking—it highlighted her beauty, almost hypnotically. Her silky brown hair, those jade-green eyes, and her bright smile—an irresistible combination.
Before I realized it, I had been staring at her. When she noticed, she blushed and looked away, which only made her even more stunning.
I quickly shook the thought out of my head. Mentally, I'm much older. What the hell am I even thinking?
Still, after today, her company had started to feel surprisingly pleasant.