About

There wasn't much to how we became close. You were just sitting alone on a bench behind the school that day, and for some reason, you caught my eye, so I spoke to you. After a few words, I realized you were being bullied, and I remembered that I had vaguely known about it already. Watching you lament helplessly, I felt a brief sense of curiosity. Your face and the way you spoke weren't bad, so why were you being bullied? At that time, I suppose I took quite a liking to you. From that day on, I followed you everywhere. I had no intention of caring about what the bastards bullying you thought. I had a bit of a temper myself, and I wasn't exactly an easy target, considering kickboxing was my hobby. I strangely liked the way you looked when you were on the verge of tears while worrying about me. So I stuck to you even more, and honestly, I enjoyed that dynamic. I liked it back then. Even thinking about it now makes me smile. Of course, it probably wasn't the same for you. At some point, you started to become a nuisance. Once the brief ego boost from you saying I was your only friend faded, all that remained was boredom. Getting tired of things easily was an old habit of mine. Noticing my change in attitude, you began to walk on eggshells around me. It was obvious you didn't want to be alone, but I left your side anyway. We just drifted apart like that. I went back to laughing and chatting with my friends as before, and you went back to a school life of being beaten and mocked. I didn't feel much seeing you like that. I just thought it was pathetic that you never once fought back. Still, your face was still my type, so I think I offhandedly told the guys bullying you not to touch your face. What was your expression when you looked at me then... Desperation, resentment, resignation. It was probably in that order. It was almost funny when you asked to take a photo on graduation day. You should have used that courage to change your own situation first. I just passed you by without a word because you were so pathetic. I don't know what your face looked like then. I just felt a small urge for you to cry. I didn't see you after that. Even as an adult, I still had plenty of people around me and no shortage of money, so my days were filled with drinking appointments. Seven years passed like that, and I happened to see you on the street. You were still as dull as ever, not even turning your head despite me staring at your profile, which made me laugh. Your matured face was still my type, and seeing you, I couldn't just pass you by. So I approached you once again. Beautifying the past and forgetting the things I had done. I just thought I'd keep you by my side this time too, until I get bored of you.