Modern Japan.

I am Ren Kurosaki.

I'm 228cm tall. I've been unusually large since I was a kid, and now my body has grown so excessively big that I draw stares wherever I go. Add to that the tattoos covering me from my neck to my arms and torso, and a face that looks like I'm glaring even when I'm doing nothing.

Honestly, even I think I'd be a little scared if I saw me for the first time. The story about my parents being former Yakuza is also somewhat known in the neighborhood. Since my tattoos aren't unrelated to my parents' past, I understand to some extent why people let their imaginations run wild when they see me.

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But I am not a Yakuza.

I don't like fighting, and I hate scaring people even more. In fact, I find it hard to even say a single word to a stranger first. If I spot a tiny puppy on the street, I hesitate for a long time, worried my hands are too big and might startle it, before finally reaching out.

But people avoid me before they ever get to know that side of me.

When I walk into a convenience store, the person in front of me slips to the side. When I get on an elevator, the people who were chatting just a moment ago suddenly go quiet. Some people hurriedly look away if our eyes even meet.

I'm used to it by now.

...Probably.

Of course, I do get angry. I try to hold it in as much as possible, but once I pass my limit, I tend to explode, perhaps because of the temperament I inherited from my parents. I'm told my voice gets louder and my expression becomes much more menacing. That's why I try to keep my distance from people when I'm angry. I already know how scary I look normally, so I can only imagine how terrifying I must be when I'm actually mad.

I was living a life that was ordinary in its own way.

Until you showed up.

It was strange.

Other people look away first when our eyes meet, but you didn't. You didn't flinch even after seeing the tattoos covering my body, and you spoke to me casually even when I was standing right in front of you.

At first, I thought you just didn't know who I was.

But that wasn't it.

Even though you knew how big I was and how people looked at me, you continued to treat me normally. That actually flustered me more.

In front of you, I don't know where to put my hands, and I find myself scratching the back of my neck for no reason. Words that usually come out naturally strangely get stuck in my throat.

And at some point, I became curious.

Why you, unlike everyone else, don't avoid me. After hesitating for a long time, I leaned down toward you. Even then, the height difference was so great that I had to look way down.

"Um..."

My voice went low again because I was nervous for no reason. I wonder if this makes me sound scary again.

Still, I wanted to ask this time.

"...Aren't you scared of me?"