"See, back in elementary school, this friend of mine stood out a lot—not because of his intelligence or looks, but because of his personality, and one trait in particular."
Kawasaki focused on listening. At least I had her attention.
"Because of that trait, the other kids paid more attention to him, almost like he was some kind of popular boy. But he didn't care about that; he was more mature for his age, so he preferred to keep a low profile and avoid drawing attention."
"Some kids understood that, but others kept treating him the same way—as if having that one trait automatically meant he had to be the center of attention, enjoy it, and make friends with people who looked like him."
Kawasaki nodded, listening closely.
"That's how things went for weeks, and since my friend refused to play along, that positive curiosity and desire to befriend him turned into something negative. They started seeing his behavior as arrogance, like he was acting superior to everyone, as if they weren't at his level to be friends."
"So some of his classmates began bothering him—hiding his notebooks, making fun of him, talking behind his back… the usual things elementary school kids do."
"They bothered him for that?" Kawasaki asked, genuinely curious.
"It sounds ridiculous, right? But that's how childish elementary schoolers can be." I nodded. "Days went by like that for the kid, but since he was mature, he ignored everything and kept going with his routine. And as you'd expect, when you act like an adult around children, they only get worse."
"But everything reached a turning point during a school trip. We spent three days in nature, and I decided to bring a novel I'd recently bought—there wasn't much else to do anyway."
"You decided to bring one, huh?" she said with a grin.
"I mean, he decided to… Anyway, the first day passed normally—or whatever counts as normal in those kids' camps. What matters is what happened the second day. While the kids were called to help prepare lunch, he left his novel in the boys' room, and when he came back, it was gone. Instead, he found some papers hinting at a location, so like some treasure hunt, he went looking for it."
"They hid it deep in the woods?"
Something common in these elementary trips—and probably in every school—is a camp-out with a test of courage on the last night. Kawasaki must've had one too.
"If that had been the case, I wouldn't have minded. I'd already wandered around the forest on the first day because it caught my interest. But that wasn't it. The clues led me to where lunch had been cooked. In the fire pit, I found pieces of burned paper, and nearby, the group of three girls who usually bothered me. They were laughing as they watched me sift through the ashes."
"Wouldn't it be better to just say it clearly? It makes no sense if you keep slipping up."
"All right, all right—it was me…" I sighed. "What they did was something I normally would've let go. They're just elementary kids—maybe their parents don't spend time with them, so they try to seek attention. But that novel had the author's signature, and my mom had taken the day off so we could wait in line for hours since early morning. Seeing something important to me destroyed… pissed me off."
"That's normal. What would've been strange is if you just kept taking it. Honestly, knowing you, it's weird you held back that long." She had a point.
"They were elementary kids, so I assumed it was normal… But you're right, that was my mistake."
"So what did you do about it? I doubt you just let it go."
"Not much… I only tossed their bodies into a lake that night."
"Are you some kind of Yakuza!?"
I burst out laughing when she jumped in shock.
"I don't think so, but I guess it's not too far from how you're imagining it. Since the test of courage was happening that night, I memorized all the paths during the afternoon. At night, I told one of the teachers I wasn't feeling well, so I'd be sitting out."
"Scare them yourself?"
"That would've been the simplest and easiest option, but at that moment, I was genuinely pissed off.
"Something like that. At dusk, I slipped into the forest and hid there, waiting for the group of girls. When they were close to my position, I redirected one of the guide signs they'd set up, sending them toward the edge of a lake that had been used for activities the day before." Since it was the end of the path, the girls stopped there.
"I can already imagine what comes next…"
"It wasn't as impressive as you think. Taking advantage of the darkness, I crept up and pushed two of them into the lake at the same time, while the last one managed to turn around just in time. She reacted well; even so, I grabbed her face and tossed her into the lake too."
"Hearing you say that with a smile makes me think I should really avoid getting on your bad side…"
I couldn't help smiling at the memory. Throwing those girls into the lake had been so satisfying… I'd held myself back for a long time.
"Once I was done, I slipped away quickly. I even put the sign back where it was so it'd look like nothing happened."
"I can totally picture you doing that. But you mentioned one of those girls saw you—what happened with that?"
I've always done things carefully—something I've practiced since I was a kid.
"My alibi was solid, so when they came back drenched after taking an unexpected dip, the first thing they did was blame me. But since I'd supposedly been in the dorms the whole time—and one of the teachers backed up my story—they ended up looking like liars."
"And after that, they didn't bother you again? The way you told it, I doubt they stopped so easily."
"They tried, but once rumors about them started spreading, their stuff went missing, and the teachers found some school documents in one of their bags… they gave up."
"Judging by your expression, I feel like you're leaving something out, but… I'd rather not know."
The girl who led that group transferred schools, thanks to the "calm and cheerful" little talk we had.
"Nothing worth worrying about, haha." I scratched the back of my head.
"You only say that when you've done something crazy… but leaving that aside, why tell me this?"
"Is there a reason not to?"
It was just a story from when I was in elementary school—nothing wrong with sharing it.
"It's kind of personal. I don't think you should be telling me this…" she said, sounding unsure.
"It's not personal at all. Just something from the past that doesn't matter to me anymore. Plus, it works as a funny little anecdote to share."
Plenty has happened in these fifteen years I've lived in this world, but I'm not going to tell my entire life story without reason. Still, if someone I like asks, I'll tell them—it's not like it's some big secret.
She stayed quiet, as if thinking about what to say next.
"Since I listened to you… would you listen to me?"
"It's not like I have anything better to do," I replied in my usual tone.
No reason to pretend I'm someone who listens to offer advice or comfort; those things are something people figure out on their own.
"A year ago, before entering the academy, I was always alone at school. But back then, a group of girls approached me—the so-called popular girls. At first, I didn't trust them, but they acted so friendly that before I realized it, we were getting along. Over time, I even thought we'd become friends. I was so naïve."
She sighed, as if remembering it drained her.
"It wasn't until one day, when I saw them talking from afar and tried to approach them, that I found out they were only using me."
"Let me guess… to intimidate other girls?"
She nodded.
"During their conversation, they mentioned that being around me irritated them. To them, I was just a nuisance, and they only approached me because my appearance intimidated the other students. They decided to be my friends just so they could bother others and use me as a safeguard to get out of any situation unscathed."
Kawasaki's appearance had always struck me as delinquent-like, and I doubt I was the only one who thought so, which is why those girls took advantage of it.
"And what did you do? I doubt you just listened in silence."
I thought she'd react the same way I had, but she kept a calm expression.
"I confronted them right then, but since I wasn't in the mood, I only told them the truth—and that if they ever approached me again, they'd regret it. Maybe I should've been more direct, like you," she said calmly.
"In that situation, I think you did the right thing."
People act according to what they believe is right; every human thinks differently.
"So after that experience, I tried not to get too close to others. I thought I'd end up being a bother to them. Looking back now… I guess I was kind of an idiot."
I shook my head.
"Everyone deals with things in whatever way they think is best, so I can't say whether it was a good decision or not."
Now I understood why Kawasaki always seemed to do things on her own. She had no issue talking to others, but what she struggled with was trusting people—and forming friendships.
"It was around that time that my father suggested I enroll in a karate academy. I don't know if he had a reason behind it, but I ended up going."
Parents are usually pretty perceptive, and even when you think you've fooled them, it's really just them letting you believe you did.
"And now? Do you still think the same? Isn't that right?"
She admitted she'd been an idiot for thinking that way back then, but after getting to know her, she still hasn't changed much.
Kawasaki looked melancholic, as if it wasn't a pleasant memory. Even so, her expression remained calm.
"I think I still do… but in the end, it feels like it's for the best."
Like I said, everyone has their own way of thinking and doing things. I'm in no position to criticize her or say her way of thinking is wrong, especially since I'm well aware that I do plenty of things the wrong way myself.
"If that's what you think, then so be it," I answered seriously.
Her trust issues won't be solved overnight, so there's no point overthinking it. But if she can take even the first step, that's already something.
"What do you think?" she asked, staring straight at me.
"If you're asking me—and I'll be honest—mmm, you're an idiot," I said with a faint smile.
I'm not one to tell her what's right or wrong, but if she asks for my opinion, then that's a different matter.
She raised an eyebrow at me but stayed silent, as if telling me to continue.
My way of thinking is different from hers; after all, every person is different.
"What's so wrong about being a burden to others? Not everything will go the way you want. Sometimes you'll have to rely on people for help or support. And when that moment comes, are you going to reject their help just because you don't want to be a burden?"
You can't always do everything alone. Even if you want to, there will be times when you'll have to depend on others.
"Stop daydreaming, Kawasaki. Humans are selfish by nature, so sometimes we just have to ask for help. Besides… what's so wrong about asking for help?"
She just looked at me, as if weighing every word I said.
"If you want to be selfish and ask for help with something, then do it. No one's stopping you. And if some people think that makes you selfish, then tell them to go to hell. In the end, it's perfectly normal; what would be strange is shutting yourself off from any help others want to give you."
It's been over a year since that happened. Kawasaki already reflected on those thoughts and tried not to let them bother her, choosing to do things however she felt was best.
Some girls would've taken on a huge emotional burden, but everyone's different. Kawasaki, for her part, decided to stop overthinking others and trying to do everything alone—and there's nothing wrong with that.
"Those are pretty selfish words," she said, giving me a calm smile.
"You wanted to know what I think, and that's my answer. Don't overcomplicate something that only happened once. We all have different problems, but in the end, the real difference is how we face them."
"Hearing you say that makes me feel stupid. I thought about it at first, but then I just locked myself into that idea." She sighed, leaning back in her chair and looking up at the ceiling.
Kawasaki's case, like mine, is easy to handle thanks to the way we deal with these things. She chose to overcome that situation in her own way, even if she made a few mistakes—but humans are prone to that.
"There's nothing wrong with it. We're young; we're allowed to mess up."
"Are you my dad or something? That sounds exactly like something he'd say," she replied, smiling with good humor.
I'm not nearly old enough to be Kawasaki's father, although…
"I'm not sure… but if you introduce me to your mother, I might consider it..."
A loud sound echoed through the room—the sound of her fist getting caught in my hand.
"You really don't value your life if you say things like that!"
My words completely shattered the atmosphere that had settled since we started talking about deeper things—but honestly, this suits us better. We're not that kind of people.
"Alright, alright, I won't say it again." I nodded while still holding her fist, since she hadn't eased up at all.
Judging by Kawasaki, it was easy to imagine what her little sister might be like—and I wasn't too far off. So her mother must be an older, more mature version of the girl in front of me…
I moved my other hand to catch her other fist, which was aimed straight at my face.
"I don't think I said anything this time."
"That expression says you're not thinking anything good!"
Was I that obvious?
"I just pictured a few things." I smiled at her.
I was being completely honest—I only tried to imagine her mother's face. But I doubt she believes that.
"Don't worry. I'll fix those thoughts of yours myself," she said with a sinister smile as her fists tightened.
"Should we get back to studying…?"
She's standing while I'm sitting, so I'm at a disadvantage—and she knows it.
"In a minute. Just let me beat you up and rearrange your brain!"
"I don't think a couple of punches will do that…"
How is she this strong? If we keep struggling like this, she'll break free—and nothing good will come from that.
"Even better for me!"
I can see her grinning wickedly, ready to strike the moment I show any weakness, like a wild animal.
I take back what I said earlier—Kawasaki is a troublesome girl…