Chapter 91 ？ ？ ？ ？
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
A new arc begins.
(And yes, the delay is entirely the fault of the FF7 Remake and Trials of Mana!)
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[？ ？ ？ ？*]
I wonder exactly when it was that he first began to occupy my thoughts.
Back then, I was just a kindergartner who loved playing house and dolls. The other kids never let me hear the end of it; I was an easy target for their teasing.
That day started no differently. But there was one thing-one person-who changed the script.
”What’s it to you if he wants to play house?”
A single boy stepped out from the crowd, interposing himself between me and my tormentors. He stood his ground, shielding me.
”Because… it’s gross,” one of the boys said. “He’s a boy, but he won’t even play Hero with us.”
”Oh, really? So, by that logic, is it ‘gross’ when a girl plays Hero?” my protector asked. “There are plenty of women in the Sentai¹ shows, aren’t there? Is that ‘wrong’ too? Well? Answer me!”
The boy who had been picking on me kept spitting venom, but the boy who stepped in threw every word back in his face.
”Wait… does that mean I’m gross?”
The voice belonged to a girl, her eyes welling with tears. She was one of the regulars in their “Hero” games.
”Yeah. According to this guy, that’s exactly what it means,” my protector replied. “Pretty cruel, right? Just plain old gender discrimination.”
”That’s not true!” the bully shouted. “You’re the one who said it! It’s totally fine for girls to play Hero!”
”Then it’s totally fine for this guy to play house, isn’t it?”
”It’s not!”
”Why? Because it’s ‘gross’?” my protector mocked. “Man, you’re pathetic. You’re just mean.”
”What did you say!?”
”A real Hero of Justice would never say things like that. You’re the worst,” the boy said firmly.
Left with no retort, the bully fell into a sullen silence. He slunk away, unable to bear the weight of his own hypocrisy. Looking back on it now, my friend really did have a silver tongue, even at that age.
”Alright! The villain has been vanquished!” he said, flashing a grin as he reached out a hand toward me. “Hey, you want to play together?”
* * *
From that moment on, I was his shadow. At first, I was content just to follow a step behind, but before I knew it, we were walking side-by-side. By the time we hit middle school, my feelings for him had crystallized. I’d tried calling it “friendship” or being “best friends,” but I was lying to myself. I loved him. Not just as a companion, but as a man.
Yet, as my heart grew closer to him, the physical and social distance between us began to fracture and widen.
* * *
It started in the latter half of elementary school when I took up soccer. The spark was something small-watching a women’s match on TV with my parents. Seeing those women play with such intensity made me realize that it was okay to be an athlete, regardless of gender. I begged my parents until they signed me up for a local club.
I tried to get him to join, but he was a creature of the indoors. He gave me a polite “no,” saying he’d rather stick to his games. Still, he never missed a single one of my matches. He was always there in the stands, watching. That alone was enough to keep me happy. Besides, we still had our time together, huddled over controllers and lost in virtual worlds. In elementary school, we were still “us.”
But middle school changed the landscape. I joined the school team and threw myself into the sport with a feverish intensity. Perhaps it was hard work, or perhaps I simply had the talent-honestly, it was likely both. I improved at a terrifying pace. Before I knew it, I was the ace of the team. And with that title came a crowd. I was constantly surrounded by people.
”Look at you, the local celebrity,” he said once, his voice laced with a bitter irony. I could do nothing but offer a weak, pained smile.
I never asked for any of this. I didn’t want the fans or the attention. I just wanted him.
That was why I chose the same high school. I turned down scouting offers and recommendations from elite sports schools without a second thought. When he asked me why, I gave him the only truth I had.
”Because I want to go to the same school as you,” I said.
He just sighed and gave me that same wry, distant smile. I didn’t realize until my second year of high school that I had made a catastrophic mistake.
* * *
In high school, the chasm between us became unbridgeable. I was obsessed with the game, and my popularity only surged as I became a fixture of the soccer club. Meanwhile, he started drifting toward other circles, finding friends who weren’t me. Between my grueling practice schedule and his apparent desire to avoid me, we stopped walking home together. He was pulling away, and I could feel the threads of our connection snapping one by one.
Then came the bullying. In our second year, a group of delinquents set their sights on him. Every time I saw them tormenting him, I stepped in. I couldn’t help myself. But every time I “saved” him, his face would contort with a frustrated, ugly sort of pain. I thought he was just suffering from the bullying itself. I thought he was hurting.
So, in a desperate, misguided attempt to cheer him up, I invited him to a mixer².
”A mixer?” he asked.
”Yeah. Why not give it a try?” I replied. “It’s just some seniors and juniors from the club, and the other side is from a different school. You might actually meet someone you click with. What do you say?”
The truth was, the thought of him with another woman felt like a knife to my chest. But I knew… I knew I had a body that was incapable of love. If I couldn’t make him happy, the least I could do was help him find someone who could.
”…I guess. Fine,” he muttered.
”Really? I was sure you’d say no! Okay, I’ll email you the details,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.
I had no idea that I was laying the final brick in the wall between us.
* * *
The day of the mixer. We arrived together. For a few brief moments, being alone with him made me feel giddy, like we were kids again. Since we were all minors, there was no alcohol-just a glorified house party. The host gave a short speech, and then everyone fell upon the food and conversation. At least, that was the plan.
For some reason, the room gravitated toward me. Even though the numbers were supposed to be even, I was smothered by people. The atmosphere turned sour almost immediately. Across the room, he was staring at me. No-he was glaring. The people surrounding me were babbling, their voices a dull roar in my ears, but I couldn’t process a single word. All I could see was him.
Suddenly, he snapped. He slammed his fist onto the table so hard the glasses rattled.
”I’m leaving,” he said. He stood up and stormed out of the venue without looking back.
”Wait! Hold on!” I cried.
I tried to scramble after him, but the people around me physically blocked my path, trying to pull me back into the conversation. The frustration boiled over.
”Let go of me! Enough!” I shouted.
I wrenched myself free and ran out into the night after him. I caught up to him just outside the building.
”Wait! Please!” I said, grabbing his arm to force him to stop. He wouldn’t even turn his head.
”Look, I… I had no idea it would turn out like that,” I pleaded. “I’m so sorry. If I made you feel out of place, I truly apologize.”
I waited for a response, but the voice that came back didn’t belong to the boy who had protected me in kindergarten.
”Give me a break… is it really that fun for you? Looking down on me?”
”What? No-“
”Did you invite me just to show off?” he spat. “Was this whole thing just a setup to prove how popular you are while I rot? You just wanted to make a fool out of me, didn’t you!”
”No… that’s not it at all…”
”Like hell it isn’t! You were standing there laughing, having the time of your life! Do you have any idea how pathetic I felt? How miserable?!”
He was right. From the outside, that’s exactly what it looked like. But the truth-the truth was so much worse.
”You’re wrong… please…” I whispered.
”And at school too! Do you think I don’t see it?” he continued, his voice rising. “You ‘save’ me just to boost your own reputation, don’t you? Do you have any idea how much it kills me to be ‘rescued’ by you over and over again? You just love the view from up there, don’t you? Looking down at the miserable loser!”
I knew the rumors. I knew what people said. But it wasn’t like that. I just wanted to be the one to protect him, the way he had once protected me. That was all.
”That’s… that’s not it… I just… I really…”
”Then leave me alone! Just stay the hell away from me!”
He wrenched his arm out of my grip and walked away into the darkness. I stood there, paralyzed. My head dropped, and I watched my tears hit the pavement. In that moment, I felt the last thread snap. It was over. We were gone.
Never before had I loathed the very skin I lived in more than I did in that moment.
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Summary:
A flashback reveals the complex history between the narrator and ‘him,’ starting from a childhood rescue in kindergarten. Over the years, the narrator’s athletic success and popularity created a rift as the boy descended into isolation and bullying. A failed attempt to reconnect at a mixer ends in a brutal confrontation, severing their bond completely.
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Trivia:
- The narrator was teased in kindergarten for playing with dolls/house.
- The boy originally used ‘gender discrimination’ and ‘hero of justice’ logic to defend the narrator.
- The narrator intentionally chose a lower-tier high school just to stay with him.
- The narrator’s ‘saving’ him from bullies actually caused him deep humiliation.
- The narrator believes they have a ‘body incapable of love,’ hinting at a major internal secret or condition
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Character Insight:
The narrator’s love is selfless to the point of self-destruction, but they are blind to how their overwhelming ‘perfection’ and constant rescues crush the boy’s pride. The boy’s lashing out is driven by a deep-seated inferiority complex and the feeling of being a prop in the narrator’s success story.
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Behind the Scenes:
The author notes that FF7R and Seiken Densetsu 3 were the reasons for the chapter’s delay, indicating the era this was written.
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TL Notes:
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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