"Can I...ask you a question, C?" Kurokawa clutches my hand inside hers, and the distance between us slowly grows close. Her face is so near that if she leaned in slightly more, her lips would brush against mine—but we're still not quite there.
To be safe, I advised the bookworm to not stand on the edge of the school's rooftop. Instead, we sit side by, leaning on the metal door leading to our classroom. When my back touched the metal plates a few minutes ago, not only did I feel its cold, hard surface, but also relief from deep within. It was as though the weight of everything had been lifted off me at once. And it seemed like I was not alone in this sentiment.
Never have I ever thought of the day that something as mundane as being able to touch and feel an object could have such a notable effect. It reminds me that I am no longer in a fantasy world but in real life.
Well... Not YOURS, obviously, but mine. But anyway, you guys get what I am trying to say, right?
As the distance between us reduces, a curious light flashes in Kurokawa's deep emerald green jewels, twinkling like tiny novas in an iridescent cosmos. At the same time, thanks to our bookworm, I can humbly accept the chance to admire the crystal-clear teardrops lingering in those magnificent eyes she possesses.
Sparkling brighter than diamonds of the highest quality, they are more valuable than a work of art from an artist whose talents have reached their ultimate peak. Even when the canvas above us depicts the perfect azure sky of unmatched proportions, it can still not hold a candle when placed next to an exquisite individual like Kurokawa.
Everything that I see right now: her flush pink cheeks and moist lips, her long eyelashes that invite me to keep on looking, her tender shoulders... even the scars and bandages all over her body, describes not unsightliness but something completely different. Something made by nature but has exceeded her limits. Something that I know for certain Kurokawa wants to hear every day.
At this moment, she is, without a doubt...
"The prettiest girl in front of me." This is not a blunder, nor did I make a silly mistake at such a crucial moment. In fact, I want Kurokawa to hear them: my thoughts. I want her to accept what I think of her and know how much of an impact she is currently.
"Hah? Eh? Um...? Th-thank you, C." Kurokawa struggles for a second to find the right way to respond. Her delicate face blossoms even more after hearing my words. Still, embarrassed as she may be, our bookworm never tries to look away. It is as if she wants me to be the center of my attention. Thus, I fill my visual field with only Kurokawa's figure to reciprocate her emotions. She is trying her best. I, too, will do the same. It is fair to her.
Truthfully, looking at her like this, I understand why and how our precious bookworm received a deep and unending mental wound when it came to her outside appearance. I really do. And it is because of this reason I highly doubt if the true intentions behind my voice could reach her fragile heart. Yet, despite these doubts, I cannot stop myself from thinking about whatever comes to mind. There is simply nothing else I can do.
Knowing her suffering is one thing, but thinking similar to her is another. Those two things are virtually unrelated.
She told me she envied the class representative and the housewife. Still, never did I ever think she had the need to become like them. In my mind, those two have their quirks, and Kurokawa has her own as well. Maybe this sounds pretentious, but the marks on Kurokawa make her unique and honestly human. They make her more relatable to me as a background character whose face was a blank piece of skin before yesterday. Kurokawa may not know this, but between her and the other two, I could relate to her much better if we were considering mere looks.
After all, why did I have to envy Han with his super exaggerated "plain" face while I did not have one myself? We were never on the same playing field, to begin with!
One more thing is noteworthy, though. The bookworm is not denying my compliment! Instead of throwing it out her other ear, Kurokawa received it fully. She even said thank you!
I am glad. Truly glad. Finally, progress.
"And...about that question that I was talking about..." Kurokawa brushes off her embarrassment like brushing a speck of dust off her shoulder.
"Sure. Go ahead! It's not like I'm going anywhere." While nodding at her inquiry, I point at the coagulating bloody mess that Kurokawa is trying to hide on her other side. "But can we do something about that first?"
Noticing what I am trying to say, the bookworm makes an awkward smile: "Well...ahaha... Thanks again, C! If not for you, I would have forgotten it entirely! You're a real life-saver! I'm lucky to have you by my side."
"You're not supposed to forget something like that in the first place!"
"But I did, didn't I."
"Ack!"
Her words cut me off instantly. How come I have no idea how to retort a flawed logic like that?! It seems to me she just proved my argument wrong! Is it possible for someone who says such nonsense to also prove herself correct? I know what she is trying to achieve here, but I can not find the right way to say anything back to her. Is this the true power of a clever girl?
Maybe it is the combination of my stupidity and her intelligence...
Regardless, seeing her lighten up after a long while of constant suffering, I want to continue that smile a little longer. Should I joke about how I specifically told her to go to the infirmary, only to find out she was on the rooftop looking down at the school ground with nothing but despair in her eyes?
No.
Dumb, C. Very.
That is very insensitive and, frankly, sounds like digging a grave. I should never make sarcastic jokes like that in front of the bookworm. Kurokawa has received too much from this forsaken game already. No need to bring her tragedies back up and rub them in her face. And the fact that I thought about it showed how inconsiderate I was. I regret it even though I did not say it out loud.
What a dumbass you were, C...
After a long sigh, I give up on arguing. "Please, lend me your arm."
"It's fine! Really!" Although Kurokawa says so, she still obediently shows me her open wound. "It's not that bad. I have had worse things done to me before."
"Doesn't make it any better." My voice stiffens.
Gently holding her and trying not to move excessively, I can see that her right hand is now covered in blood. It did not take me long to understand what went wrong with Kurokawa's hand. All knuckles have cuts and bruises around them. Although Kurokawa's fingers are equally hurt, the sizes of those cuts are uneven. Some are big, some small, and some are scratches that will heal in a few days compared to the rest. However, even when they are not bleeding profusely, there is enough evidence for me to assume that Kurokawa suffered a lot from this incident.
But, of course, being a person who is used to such pain, the bookworm does not flinch. Knowing full well that her injuries might be severe, she continues to show me everything without batting an eyelash or complaining once. That kind of courage is admirable—but also frightening.
This girl is strong... much more so than I will ever be. That strength of hers is also a hidden diamond in the rough.
"I'm not a doctor, but this seems like you were hit by a sharp surface with many edges."
Albeit the bleeding has slowed down exponentially compared to when I saw her in front of the ladies' room, Kurokawa must still be in agony because of her wound. She is keeping a smiley face simply thanks to...being familiar with pain.
"You're not wrong. I...broke the restroom mirror with my hand."
"...I see."
Mirror, again, huh? It is a legitimate reason for Kurokawa. She hates them with everything she has, after all. They are like her bane of existence. But why am I not seeing any shards sticking out? Perhaps she did a quick rinse to wash the tiny fragments off?
Either way, I cannot help but let my heart sinks. There is only one reason why she destroyed the school's property. Her mother has taught her to not be a nuisance, yet she still did that. Her self-hate must have gotten to the point that her mother's potential disciplinary treatment would not matter much. And, if one was to witness what Kurokawa's mother would do to her daughter, one would not consider it light.
"You don't seem that surprised, C?" Suddenly, the bookworm stops and stares into my soul. "Normally, people would ask why. At least, they would show some curiosity. But you didn't. I wonder..."
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