On that suffocatingly hot summer day, the sun loomed like a relentless tyrant, slowly sinking but refusing to relinquish its oppressive grip.
Its fiery rays scorched the ground, each beam stabbing down with concentrated ultraviolet cruelty as if the earth were being punished.
The air was heavy and thick with heat, and the schoolyard was bathed in an ugly, suffocating red glow that felt more like a curse than light.
Then there was the sound—the ceaseless, shrieking cries of cicadas that echoed like nails on a chalkboard, drilling into my skull.
It was unbearable, maddening. I despised it, loathed it. That sound felt like a cruel mockery of the day, a constant reminder of the misery that surrounded me.
I hated it, hated all of it.
"I'm sorry..." Almost inaudible over the roaring in my ears, the words escaped my quivering lips.
"Sorry? Is that all you can say?!" The girl in front of me snarled, her voice sharp and unrelenting. It was pure and unadulterated contempt, not merely anger. Her words struck like daggers, slicing through the oppressive silence that surrounded us.
The group encircling me felt like wolves closing in on their prey. Their school uniforms, identical to mine, made them seem more like a pack, united in their malice.
I couldn't meet their eyes—those cold, piercing stares that radiated nothing but hostility.
The girl leading them stepped closer, her presence overwhelming. I don't remember her name or even her face anymore, just the twisted fury in her expression. Her shadow loomed over me, her voice dripping with venom.
"Sorry..." I stammered again as if clinging to the one word that might save me.
"Sorry again? You useless idiot!" she hissed, her small eyebrows furrowing, her lips curling in disgust. Her voice rose, each word laced with mockery and rage, and the others snickered behind her, feeding off her cruelty.
Why? Why were they doing this? I didn't know, and I couldn't bring myself to care anymore.
My legs shook, my heart raced, but no answer came. The memories of how this began were already slipping away, and I was grateful for that. I didn't want to remember.
At that moment, I just had one thought: Run. I have to run.
It echoed in my head repeatedly, but my legs felt like jelly. It was slow, sluggish, and painful.
"You think you can run?!" A voice snarled, piercing the air like a whip and mocking. Their laughter followed, a twisted symphony of cruelty. They didn't just want to hurt me—they tried to break me.
All of them, together, feeding off my fear, circling closer. Even if I didn't know why, I could feel it: they wanted to see me crushed.
Then they lunged. Hands clawed at me from all directions, pulling me apart like vultures tearing at prey. Cold fingers dug into my arms, forcing them back until my shoulders burned in protest.
Why? The question throbbed in my mind, but no answers came. What kind of sick joy could they possibly find in this?
Tears stung my eyes, blurring the cruel faces around me. My pupils shrank as panic flooded my senses. My heart pounded rapidly, the rhythm like a frantic drumbeat. My stomach tightened like a vice as a gnawing pain twisted inside of me.
I wanted to scream, to beg, but no sound escaped my lips. All I could do was tremble, frozen in terror. Please, stop. Don't come any closer.
But they didn't stop. They only laughed—loud, unrelenting, and utterly devoid of mercy. It wasn't just laughter but the sound of my humiliation, the soundtrack to my despair.
"Isn't this fun?" One of them sneered, their voice dripping with malice. The others roared with approval, their twisted glee filling the space around me.
Fun? My chest heaved as I fought for air. Is this what fun looks like? Seeing someone else crumble under the weight of fear?
They were evil.
"Please... spare me," I choked out, my voice trembling with desperation. My body twisted in a futile attempt to break free, but it only seemed to spur them on.
"Forgive you?" one of them sneered, her voice dripping with malice. "Ha! That's the funniest thing I've heard all day!"
"You think you can look down on us and just walk away?" another spat, her venomous tone making my blood run cold.
She stepped closer—that bitch—her presence suffocating as she grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking my head back with brutal force.
"NO! STOP IT! PLEASE!" I screamed, the words ripping from my throat as tears streaked down my cheeks. But my pleas only seemed to amuse her. Her grip tightened, and with every violent jerk, she laughed, loud and unhinged, as if she had been waiting for this moment.
Her eyes were wild, glinting with a manic light, and her lips twisted into a smirk that made my stomach churn. "Forgive you?"
She repeated, her voice rising in a mocking sing-song tone. Then, as if to punctuate her cruelty, she spat in my face, the hot, wet sting mingling with my tears.
The others followed her lead, their laughter like the howling of demons.
They descended on me, their fists and kicks raining down without mercy. My cries and pitiful begging fell on deaf ears, drowned out by their jeers and the sickening thud of their blows.
I could feel the bruises forming and the pain spreading, but more than anything, I felt the crushing weight of hopelessness.
My body trembled, and my voice cracked, but all I could do was beg. "Please... please, stop..."
But they didn't. They wouldn't. My suffering was their entertainment.
It hurts—so much. The pain felt endless like it was tearing me apart. I can't take it.
Please, someone, help me! My voice broke as I cried out, trembling with fear. I reached out, hoping for someone to hear, for someone to come.
But there was nothing. No footsteps, no answers. My heart pounded, and I felt so small, so alone.
No one came. No one.
I couldn't stand it anymore.
'Please disappeared'
I snapped
They were frozen into ice.
***
"It was that dream again."
I slowly opened my eyes, greeted by the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. It took a moment for my mind to register where I was—my new room.
The space was larger than what I was used to, yet strangely, I felt more at ease here than I ever did in the old house. The soft morning light seeped through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room and creating a sense of calm I hadn't expected.
But then, the headache.
It was there, throbbing painfully at the base of my skull. Every time I had that dream, the pain was like a faint, cold flame, burning relentlessly in my head. It never truly went away, lingering even after I woke up.
I rubbed my temples and sat up, trying to shake off the dizziness. Today was my first day at a new school, and despite the newness of everything around me, I wasn't feeling excited.
The thought of meeting new people, of having to introduce myself and make small talk filled me with dread. I didn't want to deal with it. I hated the awkwardness, the constant need to fit in, to act like I belonged.
And the fact that I got bullied. Even though it happened long ago, even before I met him—the man who stole my heart and protected me.
But. I still hated school.
I loathed it so much.
However, if I don't go, he will be very disappointed, and so will my mother.
Shinji, he will definitely force me to go to school at all costs. I don't want to disappoint him.
No, no way.
I have to go. Yes, I have to go.
Putting my hand to my chest, I remembered the silver-haired boy's face and regained my courage.
Why should I be so worried? He was there too. That's right, Shinji he will protect me.
Yes, my hero will protect me.
So I get out of bed and begin the day.
Starting a new normal, I felt a sense of contentment as I finished my morning routine.
After brushing my teeth and tidying up, I happily made my way to the heart of our home—the cozy kitchen. It was a familiar, comforting place, filled with the rich aroma of freshly cooked food, the sound of sizzling pans, and the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the window.
My stomach grumbled in anticipation of the delicious breakfast spread that awaited me.
There, I knew I would find all kinds of mouthwatering dishes prepared with love. Uncle Masanori would likely be there too, sitting at the table with his usual gentle smile.
But above all, the one person I longed to see the most was Shinji Tsugimoto.
Shinji was different. His presence was like a warm embrace, and every time he looked at me with that soft, reassuring smile, I felt a flutter in my chest.
He had this way of making me feel special—like everything would be okay as long as he was near.
Just the thought of him brought a smile to my face, and my heart would swell with happiness.
Today was particularly exciting. We were going to school together, and the anticipation of spending the day with him made me feel giddy.
I could already picture the walk to school, chatting with him about anything and everything, enjoying the simple moments we shared. I couldn't wait.
But when I finally entered the kitchen, ready to greet everyone, a wave of disappointment washed over me.
The kitchen was still filled with all the delicious food I had hoped for, and Uncle Masanori and Mom were sitting around the table, chatting and laughing as usual.
But Shinji... he was nowhere to be seen.
I froze, confused. It was as if my heart had skipped a beat. Was he running late? Had something come up? I couldn't help but wonder, my eyes scanning the room as if he might suddenly appear. But there was no sign of him.
"Huh? Where is he?" I muttered softly and asked with a sense of disappointment.
"Ah, that Shinji, he's already off to school." Uncle Masanori spoke in a calm, almost indifferent tone, sipping his morning tea.
The words seemed to roll off his tongue effortlessly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for Shinji to be up and out so early.
He didn't even look up from his cup, as though his routine was so deeply ingrained that any deviation would be unnoticeable.
Mom added to the conversation, her voice laced with a touch of resignation.
"The boy said he had something to deal with today, so he just took a sandwich with the Bento box and left without saying much. He seemed in a hurry, too."
Oh.
I paused for a moment, letting the information settle. "I see... I understand," I murmured, though there was a tightness in my chest.
Despite the acceptance in my words, a part of me still felt a pang of disappointment. I had been hoping for a few more moments with him before he dashed off.
All of my anticipations were shattered in that instant.
Sighing, I sank back into my chair with a sense of boredom, my posture deflating like an overfilled air balloon losing its air.
I picked up my chopsticks, slowly poking at the food on my plate without much enthusiasm.
It wasn't the same without him here. But, I reasoned, if we didn't get the chance to meet now, there was always school. It wasn't the end of the world, after all. We'd see each other again there. No problem.
Yeah, there won't be... any problem.