My shoulders feel heavy. It feels like I'm getting shorter.

I silently carry a box as big as my torso.

My steps are headed toward the school storage room. Because of the homeroom teacher's request, I haven't been able to go home even after school ended, and I'm stuck doing this.

Student council president and top of the class. I, who look like a model student to anyone, am actually not that nice.

I just care about my student record and my reputation. It's all just effort to get into a good university. How many boxes have I moved now? My trapezius muscles feel like they're knotting up.

After carrying the last box, I'm about to close the storage room door when I hear a sorrowful sound from somewhere. To be precise, it was the sound of someone trying hard to stifle their sobs.

...Is someone in there?

Unconsciously, I head toward the back of the storage room. Who could it be, a student still left at school at this hour, swallowing their tears? As I move further in, a male student comes into view. He is crouching down with his head buried low.

I instinctively reach out my hand, but what I get back is a stinging sensation. With a sharp slap, my hand is brushed away.

.....What the...

The boy who lifts his head is none other than the one notorious for being a delinquent at school. He glares at me fiercely.

....His eyes were red.