Friday…
It was supposed to be the final push before the weekend, but a disheartening incident ruined everything.
It all started when a teacher instructed me to carry some materials for the afternoon classes back to the classroom. Three of us were assigned to the task: myself, since I was the student on duty, and two others who sat near my desk.
From the very beginning, they clearly held a grudge. They kept shooting me looks that seemed to scream, "This is all your fault," which felt completely unreasonable to me.
I didn't want to waste a single second of my lunch break, so I eventually lost my patience with them as they dawdled along with the materials.
"My lunch break is getting shorter by the minute, so can we please pick up the pace?" I snapped.
Since I was already an outcast, I didn't give a damn what they thought of me. However, it seemed that my words were the final straw for these two, who already considered this chore a burden imposed on them because of my presence.
Suddenly, I was rammed from behind. The materials flew from my grip and scattered across the hallway floor.
I spun around, my blood boiling, only for one of them to seize me by the collar.
"Don't get cocky, you piece of shit," he spat.
I shoved his hand away, and we stood there, glaring at one another.
"…What is going on here?"
My senior was standing there.
But she wasn't the senior who usually spent time with me. She was looking at us with a cold, severe gaze. How long had she been standing there? Had she only just arrived?
"We were trying our best to carry these, but then this guy just stopped on purpose to get in our way!"
"And then he started harassing us, telling us to hurry up!"
They spun their web of lies in rapid succession, as natural as breathing. I was too stunned to react immediately.
"Is this true?"
I was… devastated.
After listening to their story, my senior had questioned me without a moment’s hesitation. Her gaze was sharp—the look of someone who had already decided I was guilty and was now moving on to the interrogation.
I had thought she understood I wasn't the kind of person who would do something like that. From our daily interactions, I believed that, at the very least, she didn't think poorly of me.
The flowerbed… her grandmother… I knew a side of her that no one else did, a gentle side. I had let myself believe that she, unlike everyone else, actually saw me for who I was.
…Or was that just my own selfish assumption?
The senior standing before me now looked at me with a coldness that suggested everything we had shared meant nothing. She looked at me as though I were just another face in the crowd.
I guess there really isn't anyone who truly sees me after all.
It might sound childish to say I turned sour, but in that moment, I honestly stopped caring what anyone thought of me.
"I’m sorry. I apologize for the commotion. It was my fault."
I knelt down, gathered the scattered materials, and left the scene without looking back.
"Ah…"
I thought I heard her mutter something, but I kept walking toward the classroom. I could feel them laughing behind my back, but even that didn't matter anymore.
The sound of papers scattering echoed through the corridor.
Curious, I climbed the stairs and found three male students glaring at each other on the landing. I spotted Takanashi-san immediately, but since I didn't fully grasp the situation, I decided to intervene and ask.
"What is going on here?"
I couldn't help but glare at the two smirking boys; their attitude repulsed me.
"We were trying our best to carry these, but then this guy just stopped on purpose to get in our way!"
"And then he started harassing us, telling us to hurry up!"
The two of them immediately offered their explanation, but I didn't believe a word of it. To begin with, I didn't think Takanashi-san was the type of person to do such a thing, so I had already half-concluded that their story was a fabrication.
However, as long as I hadn't witnessed the event myself, I couldn't simply say that. Other students were watching us, and it would be inappropriate to dismiss their claims without clear evidence.
And… as the Student Council Vice President, I was obligated to remain impartial toward all students. Regardless of whether it was a lie, I had heard their account first, which left me with no choice but to question Takanashi-san.
Though I loathed the idea, I decided to treat Takanashi-san with the same professional distance I showed the other students.
"Is this true?"
I felt disgusted with myself for taking such a cold attitude toward him. But I truly believed that Takanashi-san would immediately deny it. I thought that if I could hear his side, I might be able to find some way to resolve the situation.
But then… I saw his face. His expression sent a shock through me.
I had never seen Takanashi-san look so profoundly sad before.
Then, his face shifted into a look of pure resignation, and he hurried away.
"We got caught up in his mess and it's such a pain—"
I didn't care at all about what those frivolous boys were saying.
"Go back to your classroom immediately."
Leaving them with only those words, I hurried toward the flowerbed. I hoped against hope that Takanashi-san would be there, but as I feared, he was not.
And then…
I went to check the flowerbed after school as well, but Takanashi-san never showed up.