Kokoro glanced at Mika with disbelief painted across his face, his head still resting on her lap. "What… what exactly made you like someone like me?"
Mika smiled softly, her white eyes shimmering with emotion under the warm light of the storage room. "There are too many reasons to count," she said gently, brushing a few strands of hair away from his forehead. "But if I had to pick where it started… it was in our first year of middle school."
---
The bell rang loudly across the middle school campus. Students bustled through the courtyard, full of energy and excitement for the first day of classes. But one seat remained empty in Class 1-3—Kokoro Katsuragi was absent due to a high fever.
That same day, a new student stood out.
"Hey, is that a guy?" one student whispered.
"No, that's Watanabe Mika… I think. I heard she just moved here."
Short, round, and always stuffing her face with meat buns, Mika had a mop of unruly black hair styled like a boy's and wore a baggy boy's uniform. She walked with a swagger and swore like a sailor.
"Tch, this place is too small," Mika muttered as she stomped toward her desk, dropping her backpack with a thud. "Better not be full of lame weirdos."
---
The next day, Kokoro arrived.
He made his way through the hallway and entered the classroom, eyes still slightly dazed from recovering. As he passed Mika's seat, his elbow accidentally knocked over a thermos full of juice sitting on the edge.
Splash.
"Are you kidding me?" Mika growled. "You clumsy moron!"
"S-Sorry!" Kokoro blinked, trying to find tissues.
"Oi! Do you know how expensive this uniform is, huh?!"
Kokoro looked up, confused. "You're… the fat guy from class?"
Mika's face twitched. "The hell did you call me!?"
---
From then on, Mika made it her mission to bully Kokoro daily. She mocked him, tripped him, scribbled weird things on his notebooks, and sometimes even paid classmates to pester him.
"You're not gonna cry?" she asked once, staring at him after she poured water in his shoes.
Kokoro just looked at her. "Are you done?"
That irritated her even more.
---
One particular Friday afternoon, Mika and a couple of her 'friends' cornered Kokoro behind the school, where a small cluster of trees bordered the campus.
"Let's have some fun," one boy snickered, throwing pebbles at Kokoro.
"You're all so bored you've resorted to this?" Kokoro muttered.
Mika smirked. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood today, fatso."
"You're the fatso," Kokoro replied calmly.
Mika's eye twitched.
A classmate grabbed a large rock and aimed for Kokoro's shoulder.
"Catch this!"
But the rock went wide—crashing into a rotted tree.
Buzz.
BZZZZZ.
Everyone froze.
Mika turned her head slowly.
"What… what was that sound?"
Suddenly, a swarm of furious wasps shot out from the tree's hollow. Chaos exploded.
"RUUUUN!" someone screamed.
The students scattered in every direction. Mika tried to sprint but tripped over a root and hit the ground hard.
"No, no, no—!" she shrieked, scrambling to crawl away. The wasps were closing in.
Kokoro paused mid-run and looked back.
His eyes caught Mika's terrified face, her body trembling, too slow to escape.
"Shit," he muttered, then ran back.
He ripped off his uniform jacket. "Lay flat, now! Hands under your stomach!"
Mika obeyed without thinking, burying her face into the soil.
Kokoro threw his jacket over her head and turned to face the swarm.
He waved his arms wildly, yelling and sprinting back and forth to draw them away.
"Over here, you angry bastards!"
A wasp stung his cheek. Then his arm. Then another.
Kokoro stumbled, but kept yelling, redirecting the entire swarm.
"Run!" he shouted hoarsely. "Just run already!"
Mika looked up just in time to see him taking more stings, arms raised to shield his face.
Tears and snot streamed down her face. She scrambled to her feet and ran.
"I need help! Somebody, please!!" she shouted hysterically.
Some nearby teachers and janitors saw the scene.
"What the hell—are those wasps!?"
"Someone call an ambulance!"
They followed Mika back to the woods and found Kokoro sprawled on the grass, his uniform in tatters, his arms covered in welts, still conscious but dazed.
One of the janitors swatted at the remaining wasps with his shirt. "Freakin' bugs! Shoo!"
Another knelt beside Kokoro. "Kid, you okay!?"
__________________________________________
The sharp scent of antiseptic and the rhythmic beeping of machines filled the small hospital room where Kokoro lay resting. The white sheets were neatly tucked around him, but his body was dotted with angry red swellings—evidence of his battle with the swarm of wasps. Bandages wrapped around his arms, neck, and even his temple. Despite it all, his expression remained calm, peaceful even, as if pain were nothing more than a passing breeze.
His mother and younger sister, Yui, stood by his side. Yui gently touched his fingers, her brows furrowed with worry. His mother, though visibly shaken, managed a small smile, brushing her son's bangs aside.
"He'll be okay," the doctor had reassured them earlier. "He's a tough one."
After a while, the two stepped out of the room to let Kokoro rest.
Just outside the door stood a plump figure dressed in ill-fitting clothes—oversized boy's shorts and a wrinkled white T-shirt. It was Mika… or rather, the version of her that the world had forgotten. Her cheeks were puffed with baby fat, and her short black hair stuck to her forehead with nervous sweat.
"Um… excuse me," Mika said, her voice trembling as she stood before Kokoro's mother and Yui. "Can I… see him? I just want to say thank you…"
Kokoro's mother blinked. "Oh? You must be his classmate. What a cute boy," she said kindly. "Of course, dear. Just don't wake him if he's asleep."
Mika's heart clenched. Cute boy… She smiled weakly and bowed, "Thank you, ma'am…"
As they walked away down the corridor, Mika stood frozen. Guilt tightened around her throat like a noose. She doesn't know… she doesn't even know I've been tormenting her son… and yet… she smiled at me.
Mika swallowed the lump in her throat and quietly opened the door.
Inside, the room was dim. Only the soft hum of machinery and the orange hue of the setting sun pouring through the blinds filled the silence. Her gaze landed on Kokoro, asleep, his swollen face slightly turned toward the window.
Mika took a step in. And another.
The moment she reached his bedside and saw his face up close, her breath hitched. His lips were cracked. His skin red and raw. One of his eyes was almost swollen shut.
"…Idiot…" she whispered, tears spilling freely from her eyes. She fell to her knees beside his bed, hands trembling, and with a choked sob, cried out—
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… why… why would you do this for someone like me…?"
Kokoro stirred. His good eye fluttered open. He turned slowly, surprised to see the pudgy boy crying beside him.
"...Fat guy?" he croaked, his voice raspy but gentle.
"Don't call me that now!" Mika sobbed. "Why… why didn't you just leave me? Why did you take the sting for me…? After everything I did… why…?"
Kokoro didn't answer immediately. He blinked slowly, his gaze softening as he looked at her—no, him, as he still believed.
"Because pain is temporary…" he said quietly. "But hatred… it lasts longer. I didn't want to carry that weight."
Mika looked up at him, stunned.
"You never fought back… even when I bullied you, even when I called you names…"
Kokoro gave a tired smile. "Because I knew it wasn't really about me. I saw how you looked, how you acted. Like a wall trying to hold back a flood… I didn't want to add to your burden."
"You… you really are stupid…" Mika said between hiccups. "So… stupid…"
Kokoro reached out with his bandaged hand and gently patted her head.
"I don't know your name," he whispered. "But whoever you are… thank you for crying for me."
Mika's lip quivered.
"You should hate me…"
"I don't," Kokoro said softly. "Because hate changes nothing. But kindness… kindness sometimes saves people."
He looked at her with the kind of gaze that made your chest tighten—not out of pain, but from the warmth that bloomed quietly and deeply, like spring sunlight through a window.
Mika's entire body trembled. Her tears fell freely again. She grasped his hand and brought it close to her chest.
That moment etched itself in her heart. The boy who should've cursed her, who had every reason to scream and reject her, instead offered forgiveness and understanding.
In that moment, she swore to herself—
I'll change. For him. Because someone like that… deserves nothing less than love.