Chapter 43: The Fear Of Being Left Behind

Chapter 43: Chapter 43: The Fear Of Being Left Behind

Shion’s monologue, POV

--------------

​After some moments had passed, the group moved slowly across the white sand, their footsteps sinking into the dry grains, muffled by the constant, low murmur of the tide.

​It was still hard to communicate among ourselves, so I didn’t.

​But then Oota spoke up.

​"Are you really alright?" he asked.

​"Why do you ask?" I replied. He seemed concerned, but it was sort of out of the blue.

​"Your eyes... they have been monitoring everyone’s movements for a while now," he added. He noticed immediately, even though he was the one I was subtly trying to hide it from.

​"Sorry, I... for a moment I got self-conscious. I was the one who caused this mess, wasn’t I?" I muttered.

​"N-no, it’s not your fault, okay? A lot of things are going on right now, and we shouldn’t blame ourselves," he added. I had thought he was trying to interrogate me, but he was just being caring.

​So sweet.

​"You know what, you’ve changed a bit since I last saw you," I added, smiling.

​"Really? I don’t think I have, though."

​"You still think you are the ’you’ from before? Just so you know, the ’you’ from before would have not wanted anything to do with romance, let alone accept this kind of invite from friends," I replied, stating my observations from elementary school. He was more cold than warm back then, tending to isolate himself from the rest of the world.

​Even then, I still looked up to him; he managed to get through it all without completely breaking.

​I, on the other hand, probably peed my pants from the stress alone.

​Dr. Yamaguchi didn’t go easy on any of us, not even the inexperienced ones.

​"Funny, Aki and Junpai did mention something along those lines," he chuckled before adding, "Then I guess I did mature a bit."

​"Mature, huh..." I murmured.

​"What? You don’t believe me?" he protested. I shifted my head toward him.

​"Not really. I do think you’ve matured as a teenager."

​Well, I can’t say as an adult, because he’d just be like, nah... I’m not that mature.

​"Not a compliment if it’s coming from you," he protested again. He’s really stubborn, but I can’t say that out loud, can I?

​"Well..." Oota muttered, going silent for a bit.

​"For me, you are the one who changed the most out of the three of us," he added. I blinked, facing him. What does he mean by change?

​Yes, humans change over time, both during an individual’s life and across generations through evolution. But which aspect is he referring to?

​Is it growth he’s referring to? People start as small babies, grow taller and heavier through childhood, and develop fully into adulthood. Aging—as people reach old age, skin wrinkles, hair can thin or turn grey, and bones can lose density. Or did he mean my mind? People’s brains mature, learn new skills, and store memories as they age.

​"Remember Todoki? He was the guy that I had a fight with when you first arrived."

​I don’t know much about the individual called Todoki; he was expelled almost immediately after my arrival.

​He was not part of Oota’s class, if I remember correctly, but he was a useful asset or friend of his.

​His actions held his class back, so they had him expelled, and Oota couldn’t do a thing about it.

​"For the first two days I started middle school, he was always helping one way or another. I was new, so I was barely fitting in," he continued.

​"He was loud and overly familiar, but in a school where everyone else was sizing you up by your family name or your entrance exam scores, Todoki didn’t care about any of that," Oota continued, his eyes fixed on the shifting patterns of the crowd’s movements.

"He just handed me a juice box on the second day and said, ’Stop looking like you’re about to throw up; you’re making the rest of us nervous.’"

​A faint, bitter smile touched the corner of Oota’s mouth. A small smile appeared on Oota’s face. There was no sarcasm behind it or attempt to hide something. It was almost... fond.

​I hated how quickly I noticed that someone else had seen Oota like this before me, been there when he was new.

​Someone else had made him feel comfortable.

​The thought was childish, I knew that, so I pushed it aside.

​Todoki had given him a juice box—that was all. Something so stupidly ordinary that it shouldn’t have mattered.

​But apparently, it did.

​"Looking back, I suppose I knew he was trying to rope me into whatever political games his class faction was playing. But to me... he was just the first person who made this place feel a little less like a prison."

​I kept my steps aligned with his, listening quietly. The abrasive sting of the previous scene seemed to recede, muffled by the steady, rhythmic crash of the waves.

​"And when he got expelled..." Oota’s voice dropped, the lightness completely draining from it.

​"I didn’t do anything. I watched from the sidelines while the school machinery chewed him up and spat him out because his utility dropped below zero. That was the day I realized how fragile everything here actually is."

​"You see where I’m getting at? I haven’t changed from back then at all. I watched Junpai and the situation escalate to this point, and I didn’t do anything to help."

​He was set up by his classmates; it was kind of stupid, because even though he might have predicted it and made contingencies to prevent exposure, if the peers around you are all against you, it would by default be a loss.

​He stopped walking. The rest of the group—Aki, Junpai, and Mataguchi—were drifting a few yards ahead, absorbed in their own low-murmured discussion about the upcoming theater slots.

​Oota turned to face me, the afternoon light catching the sharp, tired angles of his face.

​"So when you talk about me changing," he said, his tone softening into something entirely earnest, "you need to remember why I started paying attention in the first place. I wasn’t trying to play the hero. I was just terrified of being the next one left behind."

​I held his gaze, feeling the sudden, quiet weight of his words settle between us.

​I had heard the name Todoki before, maybe once or twice, but never enough to attach a face to it. Someone from another class who had helped Oota when he first arrived and had been expelled.

​That should have been all, but as Oota continued talking, the name began to feel deeper.

​The playful banter from a moment ago evaporated, replaced by the raw, unspoken reality of what it meant to survive in this school. We weren’t just teenagers hanging out at the beach; we were pieces on a board, constantly calculating our next move to avoid elimination.

​That was my perception of the situation.

​"You won’t be left behind," I said softly, the words slipping out before I could second-guess them. "Not if I have anything to do with it."

​He blinked, surprise flickering across his features before a genuine, self-deprecating chuckle broke the tension.

​"Heck, look at you, talking like you own the place," he shook his head, though the tension in his shoulders finally melted away.

​"Come on. If we don’t catch up to Mataguchi, he’s going to pull out a spreadsheet to calculate our exact rate of conversational delay."

​I let out a small breath, a mixture of relief and lingering anxiety warming my chest. "Right. Let’s go before he decides to reroute our entire evening to an educational seminar."

​"Wait, what?" Oota muttered playfully.

​"What?" I questioned playfully in response.

​"Your impression of him is just... impressive."

​"What do you mean impressive?" I asked again.

​"It’s too accurate; it’s like you are studying him or something," Oota smiled while replying.

​I knew he was playing, but come on, it sort of stung.

​Inosuki purposely fell back, letting a wide, five-meter gap open between himself and us. He took a slow, measured breath of the salty air, his sharp eyes narrowing into a cold, diagnostic stare as he tracked the physical mechanics of the group.

​He was profiling us.

​I was walking on Oota’s left, my shoulder occasionally brushing against his arm. I was nervous about it, but I remained active during our conversations.

​Ahead of him, I was currently listening to Oota speak and didn’t pay close attention to Inosuki.

​I reached up with my right hand to casually brush a stray strand of white hair behind my left ear, my head turned by a mere three degrees as I gazed at him.

​I wasn’t malicious or predatory. I maintained a cool and friendly attitude.

​Then I returned to offering Oota a sweet, reassuring smile.

​Inosuki was too distracted with the other group dynamics and current state to notice any sudden microscopic changes within those split seconds.

​I glanced back. Mataguchi was walking perfectly parallel to Junpai, his blank eyes fixed on the distant sunset, his face completely frozen like a statue in the evening chill. But he replied and indulged in Aki’s conversations, which were meant to calm Junpai from his sudden mood.

​But to no luck.

-----------

"We are all in the same boat, in a stormy sea, and we owe each other a terrible loyalty."

---------