The Story of How I, a Guy Who Couldn’t Care Less About School Castes, Somehow Ended Up Making All the Five-Star Gals Fall for Me - Chapter 15; Interlude 03

Interlude 03: Mercury’s Past

On the train ride home, I found myself replaying my conversation with Kizuki.

Standing by the door, watching the scenery slip past the window, I suddenly realized how tired I was.

But it was the kind of tired that actually felt good.

“Totally out of character for me…”

All because he said, “I’ll listen to your complaints.”

Before I knew it, I’d let that impulse push me to call out to him.

It was the first time in my life I’d ever been the one to invite a boy.

At first, I seriously thought about making him my punching bag.

But he turned out to be such a good listener that I ended up blurting out things I never meant to.

“Kizuki, acting all cocky again…”

That’s what it felt like.

Still, at least I made it through today without crying.

In the train window’s reflection, my own face looked… like it was actually having fun.

I was never good at talking to people, and even less so with boys.

That’s why, at the start, I’d braced myself—thinking if the conversation stalled, I’d just make up an excuse and head home.

“Once the chance comes, you’ll change on your own,” huh. He really comes out with good lines sometimes.

His comfortable kind of indifference lightened something in my chest.

He didn’t deny me outright.

He didn’t force empty encouragement.

He didn’t lean in with shallow sympathy, pretending just to get close.

And he didn’t try to push me into changing against my will.

“…And yet it doesn’t feel like he’s spoiling me, either.”

Having someone hit the nail on the head like that—

I couldn’t help but feel… glad.

“But why does Kizuki get me so much, anyway?”

Him pointing out that it wasn’t about “needing to fix myself” but just about timing—that was a total eye-opener.

All this time, I kept thinking, I’m socially hopeless, I have to fix it right away.

And honestly, I knew exactly why I thought like that.

Because I hated the version of me that wasn’t good enough.

After transferring ballet schools, I threw myself into it seriously—aiming to go pro, living a completely disciplined life.

Ballet always came first. My private life and school life came second.

That harsh, perfectionist lens wasn’t just on others—it was on me, too.

Classmates who laughed and ran around in the studio just looked childish to me, and it pissed me off.

But the moment I tried to correct them, they got scared… and before I knew it, I didn’t have anyone I could call a friend.

Still, the practice was rewarding. I could feel myself improving every day, and I placed high in competitions, so the balance felt worth it.

I even earned the nickname Glass Doll—both for my delicate performances and for my name, Hari, which meant “glass.”

Within that world, I was pretty well-known, even expected to have a bright future.

If my dream came true, I’d finally be able to fulfill my promise to Koi-chan.

Whenever I was struggling or sad, memories of him were my only support.

Because Koi-chan had been watching over me, I was able to fall in love with ballet this deeply.

Back then, the future overflowed with hope, and the path to my dream seemed to shine with light.

But the magic eventually wore off.

Because of my injury, when I thought about the future, I had no choice but to give up ballet.

The Glass Doll shattered—just as fragile as the name implied.

Without ballet, Hari Suitengu wasn’t anything special anymore.

I was just a lonely, socially awkward girl.

By then, I didn’t even know how to make friends.

And the countless times I got hurt by the bluntness of kids my age only made things worse.

I hated how rough boys were.

I hated how girls forced everyone to follow the group.

All of it piled up into trauma, and my fear of dealing with people only kept growing.

I wasn’t strong enough to endure solitude forever.

I put on a brave face, but inside, I was always lonely.

In the end, I went through all of elementary school without ever finding a place where I could truly breathe.

Still hollowed out, still scared of people, I carried those scars with me into middle school.

And that’s where I finally found real friends again.

Hinawa, Miyu, and Platina.

Meeting them saved me.

My bond with them gave me a new place to belong.

It felt like stumbling across an oasis in the middle of the desert.

With the three of them, I could laugh naturally again.

I didn’t need anything else.

The thought of losing that friendship terrified me—because the time I spent with them was just that precious.

“…So why did I end up talking about Koi-chan with Kizuki?”

Even I couldn’t explain it.

I’d told the three of them before…

But opening up about Koi-chan to a boy I barely knew? I never thought I’d do that.

“…Ah, I get it. Talking with Kizuki feels kind of like how it used to be with Koi-chan.”

The rhythm of the conversation was similar—that’s why it felt so nostalgic.

“Weird, isn’t it? Koi-chan was a girl, after all.”

But whenever I remembered her, I couldn’t help blaming myself for not keeping our promise.

So I’d buried those memories for a long time.

Because of that, I couldn’t even clearly recall her face anymore.

“I wonder what Koi-chan’s doing now…”

I couldn’t picture what she’d look like grown up.

Even if she suddenly appeared in front of me, I wasn’t confident I could talk to her properly.

The fact that I hadn’t kept our promise… I was terrified I’d only disappoint her.

“—Ah…”

A sharp twinge ran through the old scar on my leg, and I sank down where I stood.

A suffocating pressure filled my chest, like I was drowning.

“…Can I really change?”

I wanted to believe in myself again.

Thanks to the three of them, that crushing loneliness had finally lifted.

But now, what remained was my own problem to face.

And maybe… he was the trigger I needed.

“…Guess I’ll try practicing talking more.”

At the very least, I needed to handle everyday small talk with classmates.

Being pushed away because of misunderstandings hurt both sides.

Just like I’d been hurt, I’d probably hurt others too.

I didn’t want to keep being this difficult, fragile thing—like a shard of broken glass cutting anyone who touched it.

“Kizuki would make the perfect practice partner, wouldn’t he?”

When I talked with him, I didn’t feel the irritation or discomfort I usually did with other people.

No—let’s not sugarcoat it.

Talking with him had actually been fun.

The same kind of fun I felt when chatting with Hinawa, Miyu, or Platina.

“No, no, no—there’s no way!”

I tried to deny it, but the lingering excitement still pulsed in my chest.

That pushback only made me breathe deeper, like I needed to cool off.

“This was just me being nervous about talking to a boy! And anyway, I was angry at first, so of course it felt different!”

I clung to that excuse, desperately trying to justify myself.

And before I knew it, the pain from that old scar had completely faded away.