Chapter 10

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When I was in second grade, I learned that there was a girl in the neighboring class who had a bad temper and was isolated from others.

She had been something of a minor celebrity since then, but it took me two years to notice her, solely because I too was isolated from the class community.

The girl's name was Asakura Rin.

She is the name I would mention the most in my life to come.

◇◇◇

Our meeting was abrupt.

On a day in June, when the heat of summer was already palpable.

After school, while my classmates were playing dodgeball on the playground, I was in the air-conditioned library.

I was scribbling hiragana on manuscript paper I had bought with my allowance, as if possessed by a demon.

Yes, I was writing.

At that time, I aspired to be a novelist.

To say I aspired to it, however, doesn't mean I had a concrete plan to achieve it by working backward from my goal.

I was simply trying to do something that seemed like what a novelist would do, out of admiration for the profession.

It's the same kind of enthusiasm that today's elementary school kids have when they say they want to be YouTubers and start a channel.

The inspiration was simple.

I thought the ultra-famous light novel author, "Sato Maple" sensei, who was featured on the weekly Sunday night show "Sugar Continent," was cool.

That was it.

I genuinely wanted to be like Maple sensei, sitting alone at a desk, calmly creating stories, a solitary figure.

For a second grader, that was the extent of my motivation.

Looking back, I think there was also a psychological factor at play: I wanted to justify my own isolation by becoming such a figure, given that I was socially awkward and often alone at the time.

So, the after-school library became my sanctuary of mind and time.

I would claim a seat as far from the entrance as possible and diligently write every day.

On the day I met Rin, I was writing as well.

That day, I had to run to the bathroom because the air conditioning was a bit too strong, and my stomach was in distress.

When I returned, feeling like a hero who had just defeated a monster, I found a girl sitting in my seat, looking at my manuscript.

She was incredibly beautiful...

Even as a child, I thought so.

Her skin was as white as snow, and her features were as finely chiseled as a sculpture.

Her hair, as black as black coffee, reached down to her waist, and it shone with a luster like a clear night sky.

Her demeanor was dignified, almost like a sharp blade.

I had a vague memory of reading in a book that such a girl would be called a "Yamato Nadeshiko."

"Did you write this?"

The girl, noticing my presence, turned her large, clear eyes toward me and asked.

Her eyes seemed to be a bit forceful, or rather, they looked angry.

I, who was already unaccustomed to communication and had a hard time with people, took a slight step back.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

The girl, realizing something, blinked her eyes.

"This isn't because I'm glaring; I just have a naturally bad temper."

Her explanation was so fluent, as if she had given it many times before.

Hearing her words, I remember thinking, "Oh, I see," and accepting it quite easily.

My attention was not on the girl but on the fact that she had read my work.

"Did you read it...?"

"Yes, I read it."

Why?

Before I could ask, the girl continued.

"I saw the paper on the floor and picked it up, and I accidentally saw a bit of it."

With a phrasing that seemed beyond a second grader, she spoke and then, a bit shyly, looked away.

"Um... I found the content very intriguing, so I ended up reading it thoroughly."

Rin scratched her cheek, a childish gesture that seemed out of place with her tone and demeanor, making my heart skip a beat.

"I'm sorry for reading it without permission."

The girl bowed her head respectfully.

Looking back, her words and actions were truly beyond those of a second grader.

It would be a while before I learned that Rin's family was strict with etiquette and had trained her from a young age.

"Hey...!!"

Ignoring the context and flow of the conversation, I reacted to the girl's apology.

At that moment, I wasn't angry about her reading it without permission or embarrassed that my work had been read.

My immature mind was filled with just one curiosity: how did others perceive my work?

So, I asked.

"How was it!?"

"Huh?"

Probably, from the girl's perspective, my face must have been shining brightly at that moment.

"How was my novel!?"

Despite usually being introverted and quiet, the excitement of having someone read my heartfelt work gave me energy in my words and body.

I wanted to know what she thought of my work, I wanted her feedback!

The girl's eyes widened for a moment at my one-sided desire for validation, but then her expression softened.

"It was really, really interesting."

It felt like light had penetrated the darkness of my solitary world.

She had called my novel, which I had written impulsively and freely, "interesting."

It was as if I had been affirmed as a person.

For me, who had no friends and was always alone, that feeling brought a shiver of emotion.

And toward the girl who had given me that feeling, I felt a warm, spring-like warmth.

At the time, I didn't understand the nature of that feeling, but I think I was drawn to her.

*Chuckle.*

The girl covered her mouth and laughed softly.

Seeing her innocent, childlike smile, I felt a rapid heartbeat that I had never experienced before.

I didn't understand why my face was hot at that moment.

"Why are you laughing?"

"No, I'm sorry. I just thought you were more reserved, so I couldn't help it."

Her words made it seem like she had known me for a long time.

Then, the girl continued, solidifying our future interactions.

"Is there no continuation?"

This was my meeting with the girl, Asakura Rin.