Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/16818093079507847550/episodes/16818622171475665973
One week after the incident.
Kuramoto was expelled from school for attempted sexual assault.
Testimony from Amane, the victim, and Kenmochi, who came to her aid.
The camera on Amane’s smartphone, which she had activated to practice her stream, captured the entire incident in the clubroom, and it became evidence.
And the day my punishment was decided.
After school, I was called into the staff room.
The vice principal and homeroom teacher were looking at me with stern faces.
“—Kenmochi-kun, we have come to a conclusion about your behavior.”
I gasp and straighten my back.
“It is true that you stopped Kuramoto from doing what he did. If not for you, Amane-san might have suffered worse. All of us teachers agree on that.”
“Thank you, …….”
“But violence cannot be overlooked for any reason. Excessive hitting is also a problem.”
The vice principal held out a piece of paper.
It was a written apology.
“This time, we are not going to suspend you. However, I will ask you to submit this written apology and to write a letter of remorse. That’s the end of the punishment. Do you understand?””
“…… Yes.”
“Don’t ever use violence again. I appreciate your desire to protect Amane-san, but this is for your sake as well.”
As I left the staff room, my shoulders relaxed.
A written apology and a letter of remorse.
It was not a light punishment, but I was lucky to escape suspension or expulsion.
It was proof that I had saved Amane’s life.
However, the incident left a deep scar on Amane.
She has not been going to school since then.
When I went to the next class and asked, no student had seen her come.
“….Amane”
I muttered quietly in the classroom, staring at the unread message I had sent to her.
Most of the club members quit the game research club because of that incident.
There were three who remained.
Tanaka, Tadokoro, and me.
It seems that rumors spread fast, and word spread that the members of the Game Research Club had attacked a girl who had just joined the club.
The seniors who had left the school said that from that day on, they were looked upon with disdain by all the students in the school.
I, however, seemed to be the exception, as I was praised like a hero.
But it didn’t matter.
Even if I could have saved her physically, I would have left a deep scar on her heart.
I unconsciously clenched my fists.
That moment comes back to my mind.
The clubroom in the old school building, Amane trembling in the dim shadows, and Kuramoto pushing her down.
The feeling of my fist swinging down still lingers in my palm.
The smell of blood, the moaning of the fallen Kuramoto, and Amane’s tears.
That was all that was etched in my memory.
I felt nauseous.
I headed for the Game Research Club’s clubroom.
The old school building was deserted, and only my footsteps echoed in the corridor.
When I reached the front of the club room, I took a deep breath in front of the door.
As I open the door, the dusty air hits my nose.
A desk lined with monitors, cardboard boxes in disarray.
No one has come to clean up the mess since that day.
I sit back in my chair and look up at the ceiling.
—It’s fun to play games with someone, isn’t it?
Her voice and her lame smile echo faintly in my memory.
I leave the clubroom and head to the back of the school building.
The autumn breeze is chilly, and dead leaves rustle under my feet.
Every time I thought of Amane, my heart creaked.
She loved games and chased a big dream with her small body.
Her dream was to become a professional gamer.
In that clubroom, we laughed and competed with each other with our controllers in our hands.
Her presence rekindled my cold passion.
But now she might be alone in the corner of the room with her knees in her hands.
Another week passed.
Amane was still not at school.
I went to the class next door and repeatedly asked one of the students if he had seen her, and he began to find me annoying.
Especially from a group of girls.
It was as if they were saying, “Who cares about that girl?”
I later found out why her classmates were so cold to Amane.
—Amane had been severely bullied by her classmates even before the incident occurred.
In the dimly lit room, Amane was sobbing alone on her bed, wrapped in a blanket.
“……Someone, help me.”
She muttered in a weak voice, as if hoping that someone would reach out to her from behind the door she had closed herself.
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