I Risked My Life To Save The Cheeky Girl, And As A Result, I Lost My Right Arm.

Classmate (Part 2)

Today, I, Kurasaki Momoka, spent the entire day observing my classmate, Nakamura Reijiro.

After the accident he had last autumn, he spent nearly four months in the hospital. Now, he was finally back at school.

Nakamura-kun and I were both members of the health committee, so we’d occasionally talk. We weren’t particularly close, but we’d greet each other when we crossed paths and could engage in light conversations.

He was a bit clumsy at times, but his charm and kindness were endearing. I always thought he was a rather sweet and lovable boy.

So, when I heard that he’d been involved in a severe accident—so severe that it resulted in the loss of his right arm—I couldn’t believe it.

Nakamura-kun is undeniably a good and kind person. He even put himself in harm’s way to protect a junior.

For someone like him to lose his right arm… If there really is a God, I’d be angry with Him. Why Nakamura-kun? I’d beg, “Please, don’t be cruel to him.”

“Good morning!”

When he walked into the classroom this morning, I nearly burst into tears.

Hearing about it and seeing it in person were two entirely different experiences. Seeing the empty sleeve of his right arm dangling by his side was enough to make my chest feel like it was being crushed.

When he dropped his textbooks, I didn’t even think before rushing over to help him. My body moved on its own, driven by the instinctive thought that I had to help.

“Thanks, Kurasaki-san.”

Even now, Nakamura-kun was as kind as ever. He called me kind for fumbling over my words, as if to console me.

I didn’t want to see someone so kind have to endure such pain. That’s why, for the entire day, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

During classes, during gym, even during the periods when we moved classrooms.

Whenever Nakamura-kun struggled, there were always classmates there to step in and help. While I was relieved to see that, I couldn’t help feeling a small pang of frustration for not being the one to help him first.

(Still, with this kind of support, Nakamura-kun might just be able to get through his school life.)

That thought finally allowed me to feel a little at ease—at least until the fourth-period class, just before lunchtime.

“…Now then, let’s go back to the basics. Could someone please write the formulas for the volume of a cylinder and a cone on the blackboard?”

Fourth period was math. Our teacher sketched a cylinder and a cone on the board and then asked one of us to provide the formulas for their volumes.

“Today is March 6th, isn’t it? It’d be boring to just pick numbers 3 and 6 from the attendance list, so… how about 3+6? Roll 9! Please write the formula for the volume of a cylinder on the board.”

That was me, roll number 9. I had assumed numbers 3 and 6 would be called, so the teacher’s method felt very much in line with her unique style. I stood up and walked to the blackboard.

“And the next one will be… 3×6, roll 18! Please write the formula for the volume of a cone.”

The person chosen this time was Nakamura-kun, roll number 18.

As Nakamura-kun stood up and walked to the front, the teacher called out, “Oh, that’s right,” as if remembering something.

“Nakamura-kun, can you write it? If it’s difficult, we can ask someone else to step in.”

For a moment, he looked unsure but then replied, “I’ll give it a try,” and picked up a piece of chalk.

While the teacher and Nakamura-kun were talking, I had already finished writing my formula on the board.

I could’ve gone back to my seat, but I decided to stay and watch until Nakamura-kun finished.

Tack, tack, tack…

Standing beside me, he gripped the chalk in his left hand and clumsily began writing the formula.

The formula for the volume of a cone is V = (1/3)πr2h. He managed to write up to V = (1/3) without any trouble.

(Thank goodness. He might be able to finish this.)

Just as I thought that—

Clack.

The chalk slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.

Flustered, he crouched to pick it up and began writing again.

Tack, tack, tack…

His arm was trembling. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, and his lips were pressed tightly together.

Perhaps the symbols like πpiπ and rrr were hard for him to write.

(Nakamura-kun…)

Before I realized it, my palms were damp with sweat.

I swallowed hard and silently watched him.

The rest of the class had also fallen completely silent. Not a word was spoken as everyone quietly observed Nakamura-kun.

“…………”

Clink.

Once again, Nakamura-kun dropped the chalk.

Just like before, he crouched down and stood back up.

“Hang in there, Nakamura-kun!”

Without thinking, I called out to him.

“You’re almost there. Just a little more, and it’ll be over soon.”

“…………”

Nakamura-kun briefly glanced at me with a sideways look, then turned his attention back to the blackboard.

He placed the chalk on the board again, ready to continue, but… there he stopped.

“…………”

Nakamura-kun was crying.

Tears were spilling from his eyes, falling to the floor below.

He sniffled quietly, his face twisted in distress as he cried.

“Uu… guu…”

“…………”

“Suun… suunsun…”

“…………”

The room was eerily silent. The only sound in the classroom was his quiet sobbing.

“…………”

Before I realized it, I was crying too. A tear dropped from my right eye… and I could feel it trailing down my cheek.

Yes, that’s right.

Nakamura-kun might be able to write again. It might still be difficult, but he could probably manage to get through a day without much trouble.

But the wound in his heart from losing his arm… that would stay with him forever.

It wouldn’t just go away. It couldn’t be easy.

“Nakamura-kun…”

I approached him and tried to speak to him gently.

Nakamura-kun wiped his tears away repeatedly with the back of his left hand. Yet, the tears continued to flow, never ceasing. His wet cheeks never seemed to dry.

“…I…”

“…………”

“I… I’m so ashamed…”

“…………”

“I can’t even write properly…”

“…………”

The strained voice that Nakamura-kun forced out made my chest ache with pain.

That’s not true.

There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Nakamura-kun saved someone’s life, and this is the result. He has nothing to be ashamed of.

In fact, Nakamura-kun is admirable. He’s truly admirable. I believe that. There’s absolutely no reason for him to feel ashamed.

“…………”