When I was eight, my parents were dual-income and incredibly busy. They were so crazy about work that they just left their son behind... Eventually, they dumped me at my grandfather's house. (It was more like an abandonment of responsibility.)

Still, my grandfather was the only one who treated me like real family. The food and the place to sleep gave my nucleus accumbens a full sense of satisfaction. Sleeping on his lap, or just sitting in the cart he pulled and falling asleep there—even those tiny bits of fun were so precious I could have died for them.

The kind of fun city slickers wouldn't understand.

A few days later, I followed my grandfather, holding his hand. We arrived at a small public school in a tiny rural village. Well... it was expected. I couldn't just waste my life as an elementary school dropout.

So I transferred to that small country school near the house. It wasn't all bad. The kids were generally innocent, their pace of thought was leisurely, and above all, the number of students was unbelievably small. That was a clear advantage. One of the few precious things I managed to salvage from this place.

But, while playing with the other kids, there was always one girl who stood alone and lonely, as if she were friends with the wall.

She hardly spoke, just watching us silently like a mute. Sometimes she'd laugh as if watching a comedy scene on TV, and I could see her fidgeting as if she wanted to join in.

(It seemed she already had the nickname 'Boring Bitch' at school.)

For some reason, that awkward appearance kept catching my eye, and I thought she was strangely cute. It made me want to tease her a little. So, I deliberately threw words at her in a more indifferent and blunt way.

Playing with her by my side, unable to speak, was more uncomfortable than I thought.

The sensation of unease came first, and the reasons always followed later. But what could I do? Beauty often erases all explanations.

I used to call her harsh names in my head and couldn't speak kindly to her.

Even so, she was always behind me. Silently, without a word of complaint, like a shadow.

Now, returning to the present.

The fact that I'm still by her side sometimes feels strange.

While other kids drifted off to the city, I remained stagnant here as if exiled. Together with her.

She still falls asleep with her head on my lap. The warmth I once received from my grandfather, I'm now reflecting back to her like a half-chewed memory. And then, I always whisper.

...You really shouldn't catch a cold.. You idiot. Don't get sick.