1 Chapter 1

The restaurant was buzzing with conversation and the aroma of sizzling meat on the grill. Even though we were in a private room, you could smell the cooked meat through the door.

We clinked our beers in celebration of our achievement in bringing justice to the courtroom. It was my first client, and he was being sued by a white family who said he was bothering them when in reality, they were harassing him. This case was completed earlier than anticipated.

"Congratulations on your first client, Murase-san," One of the colleagues said.

"Thank you," I said calmly, taking a sip from my glass of beer while the others did the same.

"So, Murase-kun. Since you're new to the company, why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself?" asked the department head.

"What do you want to know?" I inquired. I'm not much of a talker, and the introductions aren't my favorite; after all, how am I supposed to introduce myself when I don't fully know much about myself?

"Are you single?"

"I have a fiancé, which is rather shocking," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"I never saw myself in a relationship when I was younger since I had no interest in dating. It still astounds me that I'd fall madly in love with someone."

"Was he your first love?"

"No, before I met my fiancé, I had a crush on Takumi Usui, but he's an anime character, so you could say my fiancé is the first genuine human being I fell for."

And their "awwws" filled the room.

"How did you guys meet?"

"It'll be a long story."

"We don't mind; we have the whole night to listen!"

"All right then," I said, then everyone settled their chopsticks down, turning their entire attention to me. It felt strange with all of their attention, but because they were interested in my love life, I didn't hesitate to tell them.

"It began in junior high."

[September 17, 2015]

I was standing on the school rooftop, waiting for the owner of the letter I discovered in my locker. It was a well-written letter requesting that I meet the individual on the roof at 12 p.m during the lunch hour. They must have had something urgent to discuss, I thought.

I wasn't busy and didn't have anything planned at the moment, so here I am, waiting for them.

After a few moments, I heard my name yelled from behind me. I turned to see Daiki, the foreign exchange student from Class 2-A. He approached timidly, staring blankly at the youngster.

"Hello, my name is Nakahara Daiki, and thank you for coming, Noa," he said softly.

"What did you want to talk about?" I inquired directly.

"Oh, right," he paused as I watched him swallow nervously while playing with his fingers. I was perplexed as to why the purportedly confident dancer of class 2-A behaved timidly in front of me, but it didn't show.

"I like you; please go out with me!" he said, closing his eyes and bowing.

It was my first confession, and I had no idea how to react but I already know how I'm going to answer.

"I'm sorry, but I only like two-dimensional people."

"What–?"

"Excuse me," I said as I bowed and walked away from the rooftop, leaving the child behind.

I had no sympathy for others at the time, and I didn't care what others thought of me. That's why I'm frequently bullied.

After rejecting his confession, word spread across the school about what had occurred. Unfortunately, Nakahara twisted the truth and said that I was the one who was rejected.

Even if I didn't care, I hated dishonesty. I hated anyone who would lie and cause pain in order to maintain their pride.

Nakahara was popular, so I understand, but I despised it.

I've been ridiculed in the past for getting straight As every semester and year. I have a photographic memory, so I don't need to take notes or read books. For some reason, I could recall every single detail from our classes with a single glance. When they found out, some students were impressed and looked up to me, while many were wary and suspected I was cheating without their knowledge.

It wasn't too horrible until the rumor started. It was like cancer, slowly destroying my self-esteem as a result of all the bullying I received. People who used to appreciate me avoided talking to me. They were afraid of being caught up in the bullying, and I was alone.

My lockers were crammed, my desk was filthy, hateful messages were taped behind my back and on my bag, and they even thought to lock me in the janitor's closet. The rest were fine, but the last one was too much for me.

The janitors' closet was quite small, and staying in there for an extended period of time caused me to suffocate and panic. This was the first time I discovered I had claustrophobia, a fear of being in tight places. It seemed as if I didn't have any freedom to move, and every time I inhaled, my lungs didn't appear to be getting enough air.

A student opened the door just as I felt my stomach squirm in discomfort. It was a little boy with a bucket and a mop. With my tears blocking my vision, I couldn't see who he was clearly, but seeing the way out, I seized the opportunity and ran out.

"Noa? What were you doing there?" When he saw me on my knees, gasping for oxygen, he said. "Are you okay?"

The youngster knelt and placed the bucket and mop stick on the floor. He gazed at me, and I returned his gaze, and my vision gradually improved.

"M-matsumoto?" My stomach felt nauseous from the stress I had just gone through, and I felt the urge to vomit. When Matsumoto heard me gag, he became concerned and looked around for something to help me.

He took the bucket and handed it to me while I couldn't stop gagging, and as soon as I had the object in my hands, I let it all out.

While looking aside, Matsumoto assisted in holding the bucket. Despite his discomfort, he remained by my side and continued to assist.

Seeing someone, especially a male, assist me puzzled me for some reason.

"Why are you helping me?"

"Do you see yourself?" he said, "you're as pale as a radish."

"Are you not afraid?"

"Afraid? If there's anything I should be afraid of, it's how unwell you look; we need to get you to the infirmary office as soon as possible."

As I stood up, using the wall in front of me, he placed the bucket and mop inside the closet.

"I can go by myself," I said, but as I rose up, I felt uneasy in my stomach and the urge to vomit again. As a result, I felt dizzy.

Matsumoto gripped me by the waist just as I lost my balance. "Can you, though?" he asked.

I sighed and surrendered. I don't want to show the entire school how sick I am just to have them call me dramatic. He gripped my shoulder and held me against the side of his body to keep me from falling. We continued in this manner until we arrived at the infirmary office, where I was advised to stay and rest.