"Today was actually kind of fun," he said, in good spirits.
"I don't think 'fun' is the right word…"
I just couldn't understand how he could find what happened today fun. He was a little strange.
"Fun depends on one's perspective." He gave a calm smile, as if that beating he'd taken hadn't even happened.
"You're weird."
Maybe before I would've thought twice before saying that, but after talking with him in the infirmary, I realized there was no need to be so cautious. He's the kind of person who wouldn't care about something like that.
"Do you think so?" He looked up at the sky. "I suppose I'd say the same."
I couldn't help but laugh at his words.
Several minutes had passed since we'd left school, and to my surprise, he'd offered to walk me home—and I accepted. Maybe that's just something friends do, but since I've never really had one, I'm not entirely sure.
From grade school until now, the most I'd ever been was the girl who ran errands or the butt of jokes. So this was all new to me.
"By the way… thanks again for—"
"I told you, there's no need to thank me." He shook his head, cutting me off. "Call it coincidence, or just chance."
His tone was serious, as if telling me not to bring it up again.
Maybe I was being a little annoying with that subject, but I didn't really know how to start a proper conversation.
After his last words, silence fell between us. Since this was the first time anyone had ever walked me home, I wanted to keep talking, but I had no idea what to say. Maybe about the weather? Or what we had for lunch?
Hopeless at thinking of conversation topics, I sighed inwardly. Not knowing if this would ever happen again made me nervous—I doubted I'd ever find the courage to ask him to walk me home another time.
Back in the infirmary I had tried to sound more confident, but this was still new territory, and the truth was I just didn't have that kind of confidence yet.
Still, I knew that whatever I said, he'd answer without hesitation. From the moment we met, I could tell he was always honest with what he thought and said.
I guess I had nothing to lose by trying…
"So… what do you think about the weather?" I asked, trying to sound as confident as I could.
"You really don't know how to start a conversation, do you?"
I avoided his eyes, making it clear just how bad I was at this. He saw right through me.
"I just…" I tried to speak, but ended up stammering in embarrassment.
"Don't worry, I'm the same. I even thought about asking that myself." He smirked.
"Then say it first!"
For the first time, I actually felt annoyed—but it wasn't anything negative, more like embarrassment.
"My bad. But as you can see, this is the first time I've ever walked someone home, so don't expect me to come up with smooth conversation topics."
I barely knew anything about him, but that surprised me. From the way he talked and acted, I thought he had friends.
"Why did you decide to walk me home?" The words slipped out before I realized.
"I'm a gentleman. I couldn't just let a lady walk home alone." He added a little gesture to go with his words.
"A gentleman…?"
That was something I'd only ever seen in shows online—the kind and noble type who does everything to protect his girl.
So does that mean he…
"No, no, no." He quickly waved his hands. "I was joking. I can be a lot of things, but I doubt I could ever be that." He shook his head.
"Is that a bad thing?"
My knowledge came from shows I'd seen, so I didn't really know if there was more meaning to that word.
"Hmm… not bad, just not how I see myself." He looked thoughtful.
"You don't like it?"
"It's not about liking it. I just don't think I fit that word. I'm just a normal guy you could find anywhere," he said with an ironic tone.
A normal guy… Was that really the most fitting word for him?
"A princ…"
"Absolutely not."
He cut me off before I could finish.
Now that I think about it, he's been supporting me in his own way ever since we met, without ever asking for anything in return. It reminded me of the books I used to read as a child.
"Why not?" I asked, puzzled. He denied it far too quickly.
"Don't compare me to those blond-haired guys who smile through every problem. I'm just a normal guy. I have bad days when I don't want to see anyone, and if I don't like someone, I'm not going to fake a smile. I have no reason to."
"I see…"
His words were sharp, leaving no room for contradiction.
He was right. I'd been a little foolish to think that way. We'd only known each other for less than a week. It would be strange for me to want to call him that already. I was just acting like a naive, innocent girl.
The truth or a lie… If I had to choose, I'd rather someone tell me the truth than lie for my sake. Someone who only says what they think is best for me… or someone who'll speak the truth, even if it isn't what I want to hear.
"So, does that mean that word is closer to a politician?"
Someone who always smiles no matter what, never speaks the truth even when it's needed, and hides everything behind lies. At least, that's what I once heard my father say.
He stopped and stared at me. Did I say something wrong?
But then his expression shifted, and he burst out laughing.
"Couldn't have said it better myself."
His laughter was contagious, so I ended up laughing too.
I never thought walking home while chatting with someone could be this fun. I got so caught up in the conversation that I didn't even notice we'd already arrived.
"This is fine." I stopped at the gate to my house, which opened into the yard.
"My job ends here." He stretched as he spoke.
"You make it sound like a burden."
"Maybe it was." He grinned.
If I hadn't interacted with him so many times before, I might have believed he meant it.
"Though you were the one who suggested this," I shot back, staring at him.
"Alright, alright, you got me." He raised his hands in mock surrender.
He really was a strange one.
"Thank you for walking me home." I bowed, wanting to properly thank him, before he stopped me.
"Don't mention it. Besides, it's been a while since I walked home talking to someone."
"Then, if you..."
Before I could finish, his phone buzzed.
He quickly pulled it out and checked the message.
"I need to stop by the store on my way back. Well, I'll do it tonight." He muttered to himself before putting his phone away. "Were you saying something?"
"It's nothing." For a moment, I wanted to ask if we could walk home like this every day after school, but in the end, I backed out. I wasn't confident enough for that yet.
"Guess it's time for me to head out. See you later." He waved as he turned away.
"See you." I waved back, though he didn't see it…
From his words, I knew we'd meet again. After all, we went to the same school.
I used my key to unlock the front gate.
A large two-story house with a yard out front, a garage for my parents' cars, and a small fountain.
To some, living in such a big place might seem wonderful. But to me, it felt lonely.
"I'm home…"
My words echoed with no reply. Maybe a week ago, someone would have answered me, but now she wasn't here anymore.
I slipped off my shoes and went straight to my room.
I set my schoolbag down on the desk and flopped onto my bed.
There were times when I just wanted to lock myself away in my room, but there was always someone who motivated me to keep going to school.
But now, after everything that had happened, I still wanted to go. To think my mindset would change like this…
Now that I realized it, I'd never even asked him his name. I'll ask on Monday!
I couldn't help but smile at how foolish I'd been, not even introducing myself properly.
For a few minutes, I just stared at the ceiling before finally getting up to change.
The school uniform was the last thing I wanted to keep wearing.
So, I slipped into a pink sweater and a long dark-blue skirt.
A quick glance in the mirror confirmed I looked presentable—she always liked it when I dressed more feminine.
Once I was ready, I grabbed my keys and left the house.
I walked to the station, where I'd have to wait a few minutes for the next train.
Right now, I was on my way to the hospital—just like yesterday, the day before, and every day since.
While waiting for the train, I remembered the first time I met him.
The day before had been my birthday. As usual, my parents were working, but they still left their gifts for me in the living room.
That's how my birthdays had always been… except I always had someone I could count on. Even when I was little, she was there for me—my grandmother.
From elementary school until now, she had always looked after me and stayed by my side.
On that birthday, I was sitting at the dining table, excited because my grandmother had baked me a cake. She told me to invite my friends to celebrate, but since I didn't have any, it was just the two of us.
But that was enough. As long as she was with me, I felt like I didn't need anyone else.
How naïve I was...
As my grandmother came toward me carrying the cake, she collapsed.
Seeing her on the floor froze me. I didn't know what to do—panic and fear overwhelmed my mind. I called out to her again and again, but she didn't answer.
In my panic, I called an ambulance, and then my father.
After what felt like endless minutes, the ambulance arrived with the paramedics. They placed my grandmother on a stretcher, and we headed to the hospital where my father worked. He handled the arrangements.
At the hospital, she was admitted right away, but no one told me what was wrong.
I even asked my father, but he wouldn't answer.
Hours went by, and with each passing moment, darker thoughts filled my mind. When night came, my father took me home. I tried to insist on staying the night at the hospital, but he wouldn't allow it.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I was terrified that if I closed my eyes, she wouldn't be there when I woke up.
Early the next morning, I rushed back to the hospital.
She was in a room, resting, but I was given no further information.
Even when I asked my father how she was doing, he simply told me to go home.
In that moment, I felt completely useless—unable to do anything for the one person who had always been there for me, supporting me for as long as I could remember.
I sat outside her room, burying my face in my knees as tears ran down.
The helplessness was crushing. All I could do was cry.
That's when a strange sound caught my attention. Looking up, I noticed only an empty can of some odd drink and the figure of what looked like a boy my age walking away.
I didn't know what to make of it, but since I had only eaten a light breakfast, I ended up drinking it.
"It's so sweet."
Those were the first words I said after tasting it.
That sugary taste calmed me for a moment.
A few hours later, my grandmother woke up, and I immediately went to see her.
"I'm fine. It's just something normal at my age."
Her tone was gentle and calm, but I knew her too well—she was lying.
She apologized for not being able to celebrate my birthday properly. I told her that next year we could celebrate it again… but she quickly changed the subject.
After saying goodbye and letting her rest, I went up to the rooftop to clear my mind.
I wanted to believe I was misunderstanding things, that I was overthinking. My father was a good doctor—he would never let anything bad happen to his own mother.
Up on the rooftop, I looked out at the vast, cloud-covered sky.
For some reason, it helped clear my mind, giving me a brief sense of calm.
Lost in thought, I noticed a boy sitting on one of the benches, a drink beside him—the same kind I had received just hours earlier.
I wasn't sure if it was the same person, so I timidly asked while taking a seat near him.
Until then, I had rarely tried to start a conversation with anyone.
So, after receiving a positive response from him, I thanked him.
With nothing else to say, I stayed silent and turned my gaze away, though I could still feel his eyes on me. Gathering a bit of courage, I asked why he had acted that way before.
"You reminded me of my little sister."
That was all he said.
I didn't know how to respond. But then he added, "If life is bitter, at least coffee should be sweet."
That made me recall how sweet the drink had been, and I couldn't help but emphasize it.
After exchanging just a few more words, he stood up to leave.
But before walking out the door, he turned back and tossed me a drink. I fumbled, but managed to catch it before it slipped from my hands.
"Maybe you'll need it later."
Why did he say that?
I never got an answer, though I still thanked him for the gesture.
And once again, the drink was very sweet…
The sound of the approaching train's signal startled me, pulling me out of my thoughts.