My childhood friend? That relationship slowly unraveled over time. As we grew up, distance began to form. The nicknames we used to call each other fell silent. We started to feel awkward around each other, caught up in our own worlds—maybe even with feelings for others that we never discussed.

But foolishly, I fell in love with her. At first, I didn't realize how incompatible we were. We spent our days together, pretending everything was fine. But then rumors started to spread—rumors about her. I began to understand that I was just a faint shadow by her side, unworthy of standing there. That sense of inferiority grew within me.

She became colder, more distant. And finally, she completely drifted away. That's when I realized there was an invisible wall separating us. I bitterly accepted that reality, and from that point on, I started to change. I became someone closed off, keeping only a few friends.

Relationships with girls? I avoided them entirely. My friends were all guys, at least until I entered high school.

Back then, I began to realize one thing: my inferiority complex made everything harder. I tried to change. I exercised, cut my hair, made sure I looked neat and clean. Appearance mattered, at least to avoid odd stares from others. Even so, the fear lingered. Fear of rejection, fear of failure, fear of appearing weak.

Whenever that fear surfaced, I numbed my emotions. I thought, if I made my heart cold, I could survive. And so far, it worked. I could talk to others without trembling. I could socialize, even if only out of obligation. But when it came to girls… everything was different. My heart froze, my tongue tied.

At night, I worked at a fast-food restaurant. There were girls there too, but I avoided them. My job was in the kitchen. I didn't need to talk to them or face them directly.

"Thank you for your hard work."

As soon as I finished my shift, I went straight home.

That night, on the way home, I saw her—my childhood friend, Inui-san. She had just come out of a convenience store, carrying a small plastic bag. I froze where I stood, waiting until she walked far enough away before moving again.

We lived next door to each other, so I had to be careful. From a distance, I watched her enter her yard. As I passed by her house, I lowered my head, hoping she wouldn't notice me.

"I'm home," I said as I arrived at my house.

"Welcome back," my mom replied. "Still working hard, huh? Your dad might allow it, but aren't you tired?"

"A little. But it's okay. At least I'm learning to communicate with others."

My mom smiled. "That's good. Remember, peace of mind is happiness."

I didn't understand what she meant back then. But now I do. Peace of mind—free from worries, free from fear—is true happiness.

---

Today, the classroom felt different. There was a strange but not unpleasant atmosphere. Our teacher entered the room with someone behind him.

"Alright, everyone. Today we have a transfer student. Please introduce yourself," the teacher said.

A girl stepped forward. Her long black hair swayed slightly, and her large eyes looked around the class with confidence.

"My name is Hinata Hina. Nice to meet you all. Please take care of me," she said with a bright smile.

That name… Hinata Hina? My body tensed. I slowly raised my head, making sure I hadn't misheard.

She stood there, smiling sweetly just as I remembered. Her face hadn't changed much despite the years that had passed. Her hair was longer, her figure more mature, but there was no mistaking her.

Hinata Hina.

She was my childhood friend—someone who used to be so close to me before she moved to another city. I thought I would never see her again, yet here she was, standing in front of the entire class.

"Hinata-san, you can sit next to Tanaka," the teacher said, pointing to my desk.

I froze. The world seemed to spin slower. Hinata walked toward me, her smile unchanged, as if she still remembered me.

"Tanaka-kun, it's been a while," she said softly as she took her seat.

I stared at her, shocked and confused. No words came out of my mouth. I could only wonder to myself, Why now? Why is she back?