I let out a small yawn as I rubbed my eyes.
Just a few minutes ago, I was still at school, but once the bell rang, my moment of freedom had arrived.
The reason for my drowsiness has a name. I honestly despise math.
And the worst part is that it just keeps getting harder. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to add letters to math?
At this rate, by next year it'll be impossible for me. Sure, if I really put in the effort—studying for hours on end—I could manage, but I'm not that dedicated when it comes to things I don't care about.
Right now, my grades are a bit above average, but that's only because having the experience of a past life gave me a mental edge. That edge, however, is nearly gone with each passing year.
And with only a few months left before the high school entrance exams, most students are starting to study harder. Still, with the knowledge I have, I should be able to secure a spot. At least, I hope so. Maybe I'll add a few more hours of study to my plan of one hour every two weeks…
Effort never betrays you—but whether or not you put in that effort is up to you.
Another reason is that, in my past life, I only had a few months left before graduating from university. I was about to be done with studying for good… until I got hit by a car and reincarnated, forcing me to start all over again.
I've had enough studying for two lifetimes already…
I'm not that ambitious. In the future, I just want to be an office worker and spend more time on the job. If I manage to achieve more along the way, well, that would be good news.
Mediocre on my part? Maybe a little.
But it's not like I'm aiming to become the Prime Minister of Japan or anything.
If I can maintain a lifestyle I like, I'll always choose the easier, less demanding path.
Not that I complain about lacking talent—because if you only envy talented people but never put in the effort yourself, there's no point in being jealous.
I say that from experience. If you really want something, you'll push yourself to get it, no matter how hard the road may be.
On the other hand, if you can't bring yourself to work hard enough to reach it, then it never truly mattered to you in the first place.
Of course, if you're stubborn like me and hate to lose, you can force yourself to improve. My body is living proof of that.
Speaking of my body…
"It's been over a week now," I muttered to myself.
Last week, because I got distracted during training, I ended up injuring a girl. Her name is Kawasaki Saki.
Her attitude and the way she carries herself couldn't be less feminine, but technically she's still a girl, right?
Anyway, after injuring her due to my mistake, I took responsibility and decided to walk her to school in the mornings and back home in the afternoons.
"Such a gentleman, huh."
Even I don't believe that…
Before you call it favoritism just because she's a girl—if that accident had happened to anyone else, I would've taken responsibility to help them too.
After all, if it's my fault, I should own up to it.
In any other case, if it has nothing to do with me, then honestly, I couldn't care less.
"She really takes her time…"
Right now, I'm waiting outside Kawasaki's school. I can see groups of cheerful students walking out through the main gate, but that blue-haired, grumpy-looking girl is nowhere to be seen.
Wounds heal with time—something I've seen this past week, as each passing day brought noticeable improvement to Kawasaki's injury.
Since I was responsible for it, once she's fully recovered, I'll be free from the duty of accompanying her. And being optimistic, it shouldn't take much longer. Maybe just a couple more days, if I'm lucky.
Saying it was bothersome wouldn't be entirely true. As the days went by, we talked more than usual. I even cracked a few jokes that Kawasaki surprisingly took in good humor. Or maybe she just thought I'd lost my mind?
Doesn't matter. The point is, we grew closer compared to how our conversations were a week ago.
The more time you spend with someone, the better you get to know them—and their flaws. In short, you can interact more freely with the other person.
And if I had to say something about spending time with someone, the image of a certain blonde girl pops into my mind. The same girl I have to accompany to the mall this Saturday, just to carry her shopping bags.
Oh well, guess I'll just grin and bear it.
I forced a smile, though I doubt it looked like a genuine one.
"What are you doing?"
I looked at Kawasaki, who asked with a hint of doubt in her voice, mixed with mild displeasure.
"Resigning myself to fate—like giving in to an oncoming storm."
"Now try saying that in a language normal people can understand?"
"I got bored waiting for you and started drifting off in my thoughts," I said with a shrug.
"That really does sound like something you'd do." She sighed.
That's how our interactions have been improving. Nothing extraordinary, but still way better than having a one-sided conversation where the other person just nods along.
"Oi, is that how you talk to the person who's been helping you all week?"
Disrespect really thrives in this place.
"Didn't someone say they'd take responsibility for their actions? Or am I wrong?" she said, glancing at me over her shoulder.
Using my own words against me? Guess I need to be more careful with what I say.
I couldn't help but sigh at her remark. "Fine, no need to remind me."
Defeated in our little war of words, I started walking toward Kawasaki's house.
"Cof, cof." I heard Kawasaki trying to get my attention.
I turned around. "Kawasaki?"
She reached out her arm. "Haven't you forgotten something?"
Never thought I'd see Kawasaki asking for support so directly.
"Alright, alright, I get it."
I offered her my shoulder for support. She wasn't limping as badly as the first day, so I figured it wasn't really necessary anymore. Still, she must have been feeling some discomfort.
After that, we continued walking as usual—in other words, arguing over which little sister was cuter, a typical debate between two older siblings with a borderline siscon.
You might wonder: how did that even start? Well, it was actually pretty funny.
Not long after I agreed to help her, as we were walking to her house and chatting about random stuff, I casually brought up my younger sister. That naturally led her to mention her own younger siblings, which made it easier for us to keep the conversation going.
Since then, from time to time, we've talked about our siblings in a relaxed way. Of course, once we compared which little sister was the cutest, things took a competitive turn between us.
Feels like it was just a few days ago… which, well, it actually was. Hilarious.
Back to the present—while we were walking, Kawasaki's phone suddenly rang.
She used her free hand to pull it out and glanced at the screen. I noticed she looked a bit surprised for some reason.
"Tsurumi, can we stop for a moment? It's unusual for my mom to call me at this hour."
"No problem," I nodded.
We stopped near a wall, and Kawasaki leaned against it before answering the call.
Even when she does something ordinary, she makes it look cool in the way she does it. Is that the advantage of looking like a delinquent? Should I try it too?
"Tell me, Kaasan."
(...)
"I understand, don't worry, I'll go pick her up."
(...)
"I already feel a bit better, so it's not a problem for me."
(...)
"All right, see you later, Kaasan."
With that, Kawasaki put her cellphone away.
"It looks like Taishi is busy, so he won't be able to pick up Keika, which means I'll have to go get her."
From what I remembered of our conversations, because Kawasaki had a hurt ankle, Taishi—her younger brother—usually took care of picking up Keika, their younger sister. But it seemed Taishi would be busy today, so the task of picking up Keika fell back to Kawasaki.
"Is the place where you have to pick up your sister far from here?"
"It's close, about ten minutes from here, though there's still an hour until she's out," Kawasaki replied, calm and relaxed.
Once Kawasaki got home, she'd have to go out again to pick up her sister. Still, she had another option.
"So, what's your plan?" Depending on that, I'd decide too.
"Mm… I'd rather wait for her—if it's only an hour, I'll find a way to kill the time."
A reply that fit her personality. Maybe she'll go intimidate other students…
"That's good to know. So, shall we go?"
For some reason she looked at me with a little surprise.
"Do you want to come with me?"
"I've got nothing better to do."
"Is that the whole reason?"
"Am I that obvious?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"All right, fine—I'm curious to see your little sister, since it'd be like seeing a smaller version of you, and that sounds fun. Also, I'm not sure whether I should avoid or help you in intimidating other students…"
I'm curious to see a tiny version of Kawasaki; I just can't imagine her being small and cute. It's way too different from how she looks now.
And about the second thing, I'm still undecided about whether helping her become a juvenile delinquent is really the path I want to take.
"Where the hell did that come from? I'm not going to bully anyone!"
"With the way you said that, it sounds like you want to intimidate me… but I get it—you want to seem more convincing." I nodded with a smile.
Kawasaki simply sighed, as if giving up on protesting.
"Just don't act weird or scare her." She stared at me—more of a threat than a warning.
"Oi, oi, I have a little sister too, so I know how to handle kids," I said with pride.
"If you say so…" After one last doubtful look at me, she accepted it.
With no real reason to refuse my company, we changed our route to pick up her little sister.
…
After several minutes of walking, we arrived at the kindergarten where Keika was. Now it was just a matter of waiting, though I'd rather do something to keep from getting bored. Or, as Kawasaki put it, "kill some time somehow."
With that in mind, I started looking around to see what was nearby, and after a short while, I spotted a restaurant close by.
Eating would definitely help pass the time—and I am a little hungry.
"Hey, Kawasaki, want to grab something to eat?" I pointed toward the restaurant.
"I didn't bring enough money." Kawasaki looked a bit down, probably not expecting something like this to come up.
True to myself, I always carry cash wherever I go. Plus, a few weeks ago I came into a decent amount thanks to some very generous students. How could I refuse such a charitable donation?
"Don't worry, I'll pay. I've got extra."
"Are you sure?"
By now, I'm used to her doubting whatever I say or do. Everyone has their own way of being.
"It's no problem. It's not like I have much to worry about anyway."
You don't get to choose the family you're born into, so if my parents have money, that's not really up to me.
After convincing Kawasaki, we decided to head to the restaurant.
As we walked in, we were greeted by a warm atmosphere. It was winter, so the cold outside made the indoor heating all the more welcome.
"Good afternoon, table for two?"
A waitress came over as soon as she noticed us enter.
I nodded at her question. It might seem obvious, but sometimes people are waiting for others, so in that case a table for two wouldn't work.
We followed her to a table in the corner and sat down. Once we were comfortable, she handed us menus with the available food and drinks.
"I'll be back in a few minutes to take your order."
We both nodded in response.
After she left to continue working, I started looking through the menu. There were all sorts of dishes, from pasta to burgers, and the prices were surprisingly reasonable—even for a student's wallet, which isn't much to begin with.
Judging by the look of the place, I half-expected it to be one of those restaurants that charge a fortune for tiny portions, but luckily that wasn't the case.
After flipping through the options a bit longer, I settled on a burger. What can I say—classics are the best.
"Have you decided what to order, Kawasaki?"
"Not yet. There are a lot of dishes I've never tried, so I'm not sure what to pick…"
She's like a kid in a candy store.
"Just go with whatever catches your eye."
For simple problems, simple answers.
"If you put it that way, then I guess I'll go with the lobster pasta."
Once we had decided, the waitress returned shortly after and took our order.
"Your meals will be ready in about ten minutes." With a polite bow, she left us again.
With some time to spare before the food arrived, I decided to satisfy my curiosity.
"Kawasaki, when did you start practicing karate?"
After all, there's no better way to pass the time than with a brief conversation.
"What's with that question, Tsurumi?" Kawasaki looked at me with her usual expression.
"Call it curiosity—or just a way to distract myself until the food gets here."
"You're really strange." She gave a faint smile. "I started practicing karate a year ago."
"A year!?" I couldn't help raising my voice in surprise.
Could she be one of those people you'd call a genius?
Isn't she supposed to be the delinquent who intimidates other students and takes their lunch money?
"Is it really that surprising? And why does it feel like you're insulting me in your head?"
"That's just your imagination. As for the topic itself, considering how good you are, I thought you'd been practicing karate much longer. It's surprising you're this skilled after only a year."
Being blessed with natural talent for fighting is kind of terrifying. If you don't have it, all that's left is to push yourself until your body gets stronger from the strain—or until it breaks, whichever comes first.
As for me, I spent far more time than I'd like just trying to stop being my classmates' punching bag… Painful, if somewhat nostalgic, memories.
"Maybe I do have talent for it," Kawasaki said proudly. "Besides, I guess I was influenced by my father too—he practiced karate since high school."
That makes a lot more sense. Genetics really can be surprising.
"So your father inspired you to start karate?"
I noticed Kawasaki's expression shift for a brief moment before returning to normal. Did she remember something discouraging?
"You could say that. I'm grateful to him for it." Kawasaki gave a slight smile.
Talent, plus motivation from her father. A good combination.
"And what about you, Tsurumi? How long have you been training?"
"Two years of kendo and another three in MMA," I said casually.
She blinked a few times as if doubting what she just heard.
"Kendo? You?"
"Is there something wrong with that?"
"It's just… looking at you, I can't picture you doing kendo."
I could partly understand her reaction. People who practice kendo are often seen as samurai types—serious, disciplined, reserved, respectful, calm-minded, and strict with themselves.
And just by knowing me, it's obvious I don't exactly fit that stereotype.
"That's rude… but fair. Besides, it was tough. The sensei who ran that dojo was extremely strict and disciplined."
Needless to say, I couldn't land a single strike on her with a sword. Of course, I was a gentleman who didn't want to hurt a woman… Or maybe she was just so strong there was no way I could.
"Was it fun?" she tilted her head, curious.
My days were spent repeating sword movements and training my body, with the occasional sparring match against my classmates.
"It was, but I ended up quitting because it just wasn't for me."
Thinking back, my mother looked a little disappointed when I told her I was quitting kendo.
"I see. And as for..."
Before she could finish, the waitress approached us with our dishes.
With the food on the table and chopsticks in hand, we focused on our meal. Basic manners.
"Itadakimasu."
"Itadakimasu."
We gave thanks in unison before starting to eat.