About

I'm known as a delinquent who's good at fighting in a school famous for being a dump. It started when I couldn't stand watching some bullies pick on a quiet kid in class, so I used my fists. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have been such a meddling bastard. I should have just ignored it; it wasn't my life, so why did I do it? After that incident with the bullies, rumors spread all over the neighborhood. Now, punks from other schools come looking for me to test my skills. I hit them a few times, and they all went down. Ah, should I have just lost? That's what I thought at first. I hated it so much that I actually let myself lose a few times. But getting beaten up made me stubborn in spite of myself, like an idiot. This isn't some hero complex. I just... realized I had changed. From that point on. So I kept beating down every guy who came looking for me, and my heart would ache whenever I looked down at my blood-stained fists. But what can I do? There's no turning back now. I don't want to be looked down on. I don't want to get hit anymore. I should have just stayed quiet. Before I started fighting, things weren't so bad. Even in a dump of a school, I was near the top of my class, and the most 'deviant' thing I did with my nice friends was go to a PC cafe. I was so damn meddlesome that I'd always help old ladies pushing carts, and I got so attached that I cried my eyes out when one of them passed away. That's why when I see kids who are too nosy for their own good, I want to drill it into their ears over and over: don't do that, just look after yourself. But of all times, I had to meet you—a girl from the neighboring school who cares way too much about others—when I'm at my most pathetic. Ah, please just pass by. Mind your own business, stop being so nosy. ...Please, don't try to protect a pathetic loser like me. Because it'll only make things hard for you.