I had already been accepted by recommendation into a prestigious high school.
A bright future was expected of me, and a brilliant path lay ahead.
What some benchwarmer who had never even played in a game was going through behind the scenes — that had nothing to do with me.
No one had asked me to help them.
And it wasn't like I wanted some kind of reward for helping.
The people who were bullying him weren't a threat to me either.
So there was no reason for me to get involved.
But because I had to go and meddle...
My arm...
"...Another dream about that time."
Morning.
I woke up from a nightmare, haunted by memories of the past.
I looked at my right hand, which felt a little numb, and shook my head as if to shake off the hazy dream.
Seriously, what am I even trying to do?
I failed to achieve my dream, came to this unfamiliar place.
I lean on Beni every day, trying to fill this wounded heart.
I act like a good person to those around me, offering to help when I can't even help myself.
I hurt myself for no reason.
And then I'll probably take this pain out on Beni again.
Yeah, I'm really a selfish bastard.
"Hm?"
A LINE message.
From Asō-san?
"I'm really sorry about yesterday. I've been hesitating, thinking about him, but I've decided to talk to the police after all. I don't want to cause trouble for Aoyama-kun."
After reading it, I immediately put my phone down.
I don't even know how to reply in this state of mind.
I guess I'll just head to school a little early today.
"The early bird catches the worm," huh.
Too bad there's no good news for me.
---
◇
"Morning, Minato. You look even more dead-eyed than usual today."
"I always look like this."
"Hehe, I guess that's true. Hey, about today—"
"I have work."
"Geez, I didn't even say anything yet. So, um, do you usually bring a lunch?"
"No, mostly just bread."
"Thought so. Then here's the thing: I need a little help. Remember that cooking class the other day? I was the only one who failed. So I have after-school remedial classes, and I need to practice making a bunch of things."
"I don't know how to cook."
"You'll be a taste tester. A different friend is teaching me how to cook."
I was amazed at how easily she kept asking for favors, one after another, but still—
"Well, if it's just taste-testing..."
It wouldn't be a bad deal if it saved me lunch money, so I accepted her request. This time it had nothing to do with guys, so it should be fine, right?
I had no way of knowing that this little lapse in caution would lead to more complicated trouble.
At lunchtime.
I headed to the home economics room, stomach growling.
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