The morning sunlight slipped through my curtains, but it didn't warm me. Instead, it cast long shadows across my small dorm room, like silent reminders of the life I was trying to leave behind, or maybe just the parts I wasn't ready to face.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the thick envelope on my desk. It still felt unreal. Ten million yen. That kind of money could change everything. I could move out of this cramped room, pay off my debts, maybe even take a trip somewhere far away from here.
But part of me hesitated.
What if things didn't change? What if the bullies just found new ways to hurt me? What if I lost myself in all this?
I swallowed the knot of fear tightening in my chest and forced myself to stand.
Today was the day I had to face the world differently, or at least, try.
---
I stepped outside the dorm, the spring air sharper now, as if the cold wind was testing my resolve.
As I walked across campus, I could feel the stares. Whispers followed me like shadows.
"There he is. The lottery winner."
"Bet he's going to change now."
"Wonder if he thinks he's better than us."
And then, there were the glances from familiar faces, not friends, but not enemies either. People curious about what I would do next.
I tried to ignore it.
My footsteps led me to the small convenience store near campus, the one where I'd bought the lottery ticket in the first place.
Inside, I saw familiar faces, students chatting, clerks busy behind the counter. I walked up to the counter, my hands trembling slightly as I put the envelope down.
"Here," I said quietly. "I want to open a savings account."
The clerk blinked, clearly surprised by a young student coming in with that much money. She smiled politely and handed me the forms.
Filling them out felt like the first real step in a new life.
---
Later that afternoon, I found myself sitting alone on a bench under a cherry blossom tree. The petals drifted down like gentle snow, a fleeting beauty that somehow matched the fragile hope stirring inside me.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Kazuki: "Hey, let's meet up. We should talk."
I stared at the screen, heart pounding. For years, they'd tormented me, and now suddenly they wanted to "talk"?
I ignored the message.
Minutes later, another came through.
"Don't be a coward. Meet us at the café by the station."
I wanted to scream. Was this some kind of sick joke?
But then I thought of the woman who had given me that five-dollar bill, who had shown me that small kindness could change everything. Maybe it was time to draw a line.
I typed back: "No."
---
That evening, the café was quiet except for the low hum of conversation and the clinking of cups.
Kazuki and Ryo sat at a corner table, trying to look casual but failing miserably.
When they saw me enter, their faces twisted into fake smiles.
"Haruki," Kazuki said, standing up. "Glad you came."
I kept my eyes steady. "I didn't come for you."
Ryo chuckled. "Come on, man. We just want to be friends. Things change."
"Yeah," Kazuki added. "You're different now. We want to be on good terms."
I shook my head slowly. "You don't get to decide that."
They looked uncomfortable, but Kazuki tried to keep his bravado. "We can leave the past behind. Think about it."
I took a deep breath. "The past is what made me who I am. I won't forget it."
They exchanged glances, then muttered something about misunderstanding before standing up and leaving.
---
Walking home, I felt lighter but also more aware than ever of how fragile this new path was.
Money couldn't erase scars, and it couldn't buy respect.
But maybe, just maybe, it could buy me a chance to build something better.
That night, I called the woman who had helped me.
Her voice was warm and calm, a steady anchor in the chaos.
"Thank you," I said.
"For what?" she asked.
"For believing in me when I didn't."
There was a pause, then she said, "The real work begins now, Haruki. Remember that."
I nodded to the empty room.
Yes. The real work.