Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/2912051596567318343/episodes/2912051596645154541
(Hanazawa Yuna)
“If I’d been just a little later, I could easily have died.”
On the day of the entrance ceremony, my father said that after returning from the hospital.
Apparently, he’d fallen into a rice paddy due to dizziness from overwork and lost consciousness, but was rescued by a student passing by.
Even after being told there were no health issues now, I still broke out in a cold sweat.
“I’m going to take a little time off too. Yuna, I’m sorry for causing you trouble.”
“There’s no need to apologize! You need to rest properly! Thank you for always working so hard!”
I said this, half in a panic.
Ever since my mother passed away, he’s raised me all by himself.
Sports day, parent-teacher conferences, graduation ceremonies—he never missed a single one.
To make sure I never wanted for anything, he worked from morning till night and even took care of the housework.
I have an immeasurable amount of gratitude and love for a father like that.
That’s why hearing him say, “I might have died by now,” left me feeling utterly shaken.
“…Thank you, Yuna. I’ll take it to heart that I can’t keep going like I did when I was young. By the way, Yuna…”
“What? Dad?”
“I want to thank the person who saved my life, but the crew member said they only remember him as ‘a student.’ I plan to check with nearby schools, but if it’s someone from the same school, could you pass on my thanks for me?”
“Of course. I’ll tell them myself.”
“Thank you, Yuna.”
After that, my father actually made the inquiry.
But no one came forward.
I understand the reason now.
From the day I enrolled, I was met with strange looks, and if I had come forward, I would have been subjected to even more odd stares.
Plus, there was that mindset that it was only natural to help me. I suppose the person didn’t want to come across as making a big deal out of it.
“……I’m sorry.”
I muttered in front of the pitch-black monitor.
The person I was apologizing to was Ibusuki Sawa. A boy in my class.
I met him in the second semester of my first year.
When we happened to be on the same train car, I caught a glimpse of his smartphone screen. It was the video upload page on MeTube. As someone who modeled for fashion magazines, I was intrigued to see that there were others out there doing the same thing.
I looked up his account and watched his videos.
It wasn’t for any deep reason. It was just curiosity—I wanted to see what a classmate was up to.
But seeing him keep at it without getting discouraged despite the lack of views, and watching him laugh so happily, I found him endearing, and watching his videos eventually became a habit. Watching him post day after day, I even began to feel a sense of camaraderie toward him.
When we moved up to our second year, we were assigned to the same class.
He was always alone. When I asked my friends, they said he’d been that way ever since he entered school.
Everyone was wary, wondering if there was something wrong with him, and no one tried to talk to him.
As for me, I went up to him.
I knew his personality from his videos. I knew he wasn’t a dangerous person. In fact, I even harbored a bit of a crush on him, thinking, “He might be kind of nice.”
So I spoke to him. I treated him like I always do—being my usual, easygoing self with everyone.
Talking to him was as fun as I’d expected, and I started to like him more and more, eventually interacting with him without any reservations.
…That’s how it turned out.
“I’m the worst…”
My chest feels tight. I can’t breathe properly.
Regret is swirling around in my head so much it’s making me dizzy.
I’ve been teasing him, calling him “the introvert.”
There was no malice in it, and no prejudice. I had absolutely no intention of hurting him.
It was just a form of communication. Even so, it was bound to hurt him.
He saved my father’s life, yet I kept hurting him instead.
“Ugh…”
I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
My stomach cramped with guilt, and I threw up.
I threw up out of disgust at my own ugliness.
I really am the worst.
Today’s livestream was the same.
After school, seeing him looking forward to the live stream with all his heart, I joined in with a condescending attitude, thinking, “If no one else is here, I’ll leave a comment.”
“I’m a loner at school, so I’ll be quiet as usual.”
“wwwwwwww”
“Ah! Please don’t laugh!!”
The only reason I’m able to go to school now is thanks to my father, who provides me with a comfortable life.
And it was he who saved my father.
The fact that I have friends and can laugh like this is because my father was saved that day.
Yet, because he saved him, he lost the happiness he should have had.
My happiness is built on his sacrifice, so what on earth am I laughing at?
“Are you crying or something? That’s gross lol.”
“That’s cruel! It can’t be helped—I’ve been a loner since the first day of school!”
To call “gross” just because I’m overwhelmed by the connection with the person I saved…
The truly disgusting thing is my own character, isn’t it?
“Regrets? No, not at all. Even if I knew I’d end up in the same future, I’d still save him without a doubt. Nothing can replace a life. Oh, though maybe I should’ve just skipped school!”
It would’ve been better if he’d blamed me.
Feeling pathetic and so sorry, I couldn’t stop crying, and with trembling fingers, I typed out an apology.
I ended the stream.
He was trying to entertain me. That fact was too painful, and thinking I couldn’t take any more of it, I ended the stream.
I hugged my knees and crouched down.
“I have to make amends… How should I treat him?”
Just speaking the words made my mouth go sour.
My stomach was empty—there was nothing left to vomit—yet a sour smell rose up into my nose.
I’ll apologize with all my heart.
It’s him. If I do, he’ll surely forgive me.
He might even tell me I don’t need to apologize at all.
But then, that certainly wouldn’t be atonement.
…Why? If he’ll forgive me, why isn’t that enough?
“Ah, I see.”
A shameless person like me shouldn’t be allowed to interact with him.
I know that, which is why I’m seeking forgiveness—I want a reason to keep seeing him.
And the reason I’m so obsessed with it…
“So that’s how it is…”
My eyes burned with the heat of a truth I’d realized too late—the truth that this should never have been allowed to happen.
I’ll surely never be forgiven. The idea of us being together is out of the question.
But I’ll do anything for him.
Hoping for the day when I’ll be forgiven and allowed to stand by his side.
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