It's been a while since Daiki and I spent time together. I see him in school but we don't usually go out anymore. He's been busy, I guess. His course is quite demanding too, so I understand.
Daiki has been one of my favorite people as of the moment. He shared stories about his experiences in life both good and bad but as for me, I wasn't able to open up yet. I have been keeping a lot and it's damaging me.
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
What the fuck is that?
Heeey! Can you please turn off your alarm? Jeez. Someone said,
I don't know who talked because I am still half awake and my head hurts because my sleep was interrupted by a ringing sound.
Someone tapped my shoulder softly and mumbled,
"Oi! Time to get up. It's already 5 A.M."
I don't know why but something is telling me that this day is important.
Oh shit! Today is the day I have to report my fucking topic!!!
I hurriedly got up and took a bath. It's Monday, this is the day wherein we are required to do our reporting. Public speaking has not always been my forte because of my previous experiences in High School. Everytime I report infront or talk at the front, someone would always give a scary look, humiliate me or make fun of me. It was hard but I am glad all of that was over.
I was greeted by a bright and sunny morning when I got out of the apartment. For me, it is a sign that it would be a great day. When I arrived at school, the entire class was already gathered in the school's auditorium for their presentations on various topics. I had been assigned to present first, and I am pretty confident about my topic because I have practiced for weeks, so I neatly organized my reporting materials on the podium.
As I began my presentation, my voice started to waver. My hands trembled, and my breaths became shallow. I stood alone on the brightly lit stage of the auditorium. My palms were getting sweaty, and my heart thudded loudly in my chest, drowning out the distant murmur of the audience. Today, the weight of my anxiety bore down on me like a relentless storm.
I clutched the podium and my fingers trembled as I tried to read my notes. My voice quivered as I began my presentation. It was a crucial one, and the pressure was suffocating. I barely made it through the first few sentences when my breaths grew shallow, and my vision started to blur.
The words on the page danced in front of me, and the auditorium seemed to spin. Panic washed over me like a tidal wave, and I felt herself losing control. The audience's whispers became a chaotic chorus, and I was trapped in my own mind.
That's when I saw him, like a beacon of hope in the darkness. Daiki, someone I had admired and known for awhile, was making his way down the aisle towards the stage. My vision was hazy, but I recognized his determined stride and the concerned look in his eyes.
Tears welled up in my eyes as Daiki reached the stage and whispered comforting words to me that could barely hear over the roar of my own panic.
"Mizaki, it's okay. I'm here to help," he said, his voice a lifeline.
I nodded, unable to speak, and allowed him to take the presentation clicker from my trembling hand. Daiki glanced at my notes, his face a picture of calm and reassurance. He gently prompted me to take a deep breath, and, with immense effort, I tried to follow his lead.
In those moments, Daiki's presence was like a shield, blocking out the chaos of the audience and the overwhelming fear. With his guidance and support, I slowly regained control of my racing heart and shaking limbs.
We continued the presentation together, Daiki seamlessly picking up where I faltered, offering encouragement in soft whispers, and helping me navigate through the material. As the minutes passed, the audience, initially restless and uncertain, fell silent, captivated by our remarkable teamwork unfolding before their eyes.
With Daiki by my side, I found my voice again. My confidence returned, and I delivered my final thoughts with poise and grace. The applause that followed was thunderous, a testament to the remarkable recovery we had orchestrated together.
Backstage, after the presentation, I clung to Daiki, overwhelmed with gratitude. I looked into his eyes, tears glistening. Words couldn't express the depth of my thanks, but Daiki simply smiled and shared his own experiences with panic attacks, assuring me that we were in this together. In that moment, Daiki became not just my favorite person but a hero and a trusted friend.
After the nerve-wracking presentation and the emotional rollercoaster it had brought, I needed a moment of respite.
"Do you want to go out later? After your class." Daiki asked.
"Where to?" I replied softly.
"Want to go out for a drink?" He replied with a smiling face.
It's been a while since I got drunk and what happened today seems like I deserve that drink.
I think Daiki still sees the lingering anxiety in my eyes because he offered me a chance to relax and unwind. So, maybe that's why he mustered up the courage to invite me for a drink after school.
My eyes softened as I considered the invitation. I nodded, appreciating Daiki's thoughtful gesture.
"I'd like that, Daiki," I answered with a grateful smile.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue across the sprawling campus. I can see Daiki from a distance, he is standing near the university's entrance, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, a faint smile playing on his lips. He checked his watch and adjusted his collar, eagerly awaiting for me.
Tonight was special – this is our first official outing together since that unforgettable event in the school auditorium when Daiki had come to rescue me during my panic attack.
"Daiki, thank you for inviting me out tonight," I said, my voice filled with gratitude.
Daiki returned a smile.
"It's my pleasure, Mizaki. I thought we could use a break from our usual routines, and I know this great little bar not far from here."
With a nod, we began to walk together down the dimly lit streets towards the bar. The city was alive with the soft glow of streetlights, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the trees.
As we entered the cozy bar, a wave of warm chatter and laughter greeted us. The place had a welcoming atmosphere, with dim lighting and the soothing hum of conversation. Daiki found us a quiet corner booth, and we settled in.
We sat across from each other, sipping our drinks, the tension from earlier in the day began to dissipate. Daiki broke the silence.
"You know, Mizaki," he began gently,
"I've been through some tough times myself. Panic attacks can be really difficult to handle. If you ever want to talk about it or anything else, I'm here to listen."
I looked at Daiki, I gaze at him looking vulnerable. I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts, and then began to speak.
I am not sure if I am ready to open up but he has been good to me and I am already starting to trust him.
As I was gathering and remembering what triggered me, my life in Momoka suddenly reminded me of a dark past.
Momoka, my hometown, was nestled amidst the picturesque countryside. It was a place of serene beauty, where nature painted the landscape with its vivid colors. Rolling hills covered in lush, green forests stretched as far as the eye could see. Cherry blossoms graced the town's streets in spring, creating a breathtaking scene that drew visitors from all around. The town was a tranquil haven, where the songs of birds and the babbling of clear streams provided a soothing soundtrack to everyday life.
However, beneath the idyllic exterior, Momoka held a bittersweet place in my heart. It was a town that carried not only the memories of my early childhood but also the scars of my traumatic experiences.
I grew up in a charming traditional house with tatami mat rooms and a tranquil garden filled with vibrant koi fish swimming lazily in a pond. My parents had once filled that house with laughter and love. But, as I grew older, I learned that my parents had their own struggles, and one fateful day, they abandoned us, together with my older sister. The sense of betrayal and abandonment had left deep emotional wounds that I carried to this day.
My school in Momoka had been picturesque too, with cherry blossoms lining the pathways, creating a breathtaking sight in spring. However, within the halls of that school, I had endured torment and cruelty. I had been the target of relentless bullying, with my peers mocking my intelligence and my gentle nature. The scars from those years had haunted me, casting a shadow over my self-esteem and self-worth.
My school was supposed to be a place of learning and growth, but for me, it had become a relentless battleground. The torment came not only from my classmates but, shockingly, from some of the very teachers who were meant to protect and nurture their students.
Every morning, as I walked through the school gates, a sense of dread enveloped me. The moment I entered the classroom, the mocking whispers and cruel laughter would begin. My classmates, oblivious to the pain they were causing, would taunt me mercilessly because I couldn't afford to buy lunch like the others and I am smart like them.
"Hey, look, it's Mizaki, the stupid ass pauper," one of my classmates sneered, loud enough for everyone to hear. The room erupted in laughter, and my cheeks turned crimson with embarrassment. I had grown accustomed to these hurtful words, but they never hurt any less.
But what hurt even more were the teachers who joined in on the bullying, or at least turned a blind eye to it. They seemed to think that my poverty was a joke and stupidity, a source of amusement.
One day, during a particularly humiliating episode, Mr. Tanaka, the math teacher, decided to publicly humiliate me in front of the entire class.
"Mizaki," he said with a sly grin,
"Since you can't afford lunch, maybe you should try calculating how many days you'd have to go hungry to save up for it. You are in a math class, after all. Oh wait, you are not that smart. I guess you will starve."
The classroom erupted into laughter once again, and my eyes welled up with tears. I had always been a diligent student, eager to learn and excel in my studies, but the constant bullying had taken a toll on my self-esteem.
During lunch breaks, while my classmates enjoyed their meals, I would sit alone in a corner of the cafeteria with an empty stomach. I had grown used to the gnawing hunger that accompanied me every school day.
Despite the cruelty I endured, I remained resilient. I found solace in my passion for art and my love for my grandma, who struggled to make ends meet. I knew that my grandma worked tirelessly to provide for me and my older sister, and her love and support were worth more than any lunch money.
These moments of tranquility were my sanctuary, providing brief respite from the painful memories that still haunted me.
"Are you okay?" Daiki mumbled while tapping my shoulder.
I must've zoned out thinking about it.
As I returned to reality, I looked at Daiki and confessed,
"It's not just today, I've had these feelings for a long time. It all started in high school."
I paused, my eyes were misting over as I recalled painful memories.
Daiki listened attentively, offering me his full support.
"You don't have to share if you're not comfortable, Mizaki. But if you want to, I'm here."
I appreciated his understanding. I continued, with my voice trembling slightly, "I was bullied in high school. It was relentless, and I felt so isolated. The girls in my class would make fun of me, spread rumors, and exclude me from everything. It was like living in a nightmare."
I can see that Daiki's heart sank as he listened to my painful revelation. He reached out and gently placed his hand on mine, a silent gesture of support.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Mizaki, I couldn't fathom how someone as kind and talented as you could have endured such cruelty." he said softly.
"You're an amazing person, and they were blind not to see it. But you're strong, and you've come so far."
Tears welled up in my eyes as I felt the weight of Daiki's compassion. I wiped away a tear and managed a small smile.
"Thank you, Daiki. I've come a long way, but sometimes, those memories still haunt me. Today was a reminder of how fragile I can feel."
Daiki squeezed my hand gently, offering his unwavering support.
"Remember, you're not alone in this. And you have a friend in me, someone who understands and cares about you deeply."
As I continued to share my stories, we offered each other solace. Daiki and I found a connection that went beyond our shared experiences of panic attacks.
As we left the bar, our spirits were high, and the night air felt refreshingly cool. Daiki walked me back to our apartment, our conversation continuing effortlessly. Before we parted ways, Daiki said,
"Mizaki, I had a wonderful time tonight," he said, his gaze sincere. "I'm grateful for our friendship, and I hope we can continue to share moments like this."
I smiled, my eyes softening with affection. "Daiki, I feel the same way. Thank you for being such a great friend. I look forward to many more adventures with you."
As we said our goodbyes, Daiki watched me go into the dormitory building. The night had been filled with laughter, shared stories, and a deepening connection. I knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.