When I Picked Up A Stunningly Gorgeous Downer-Type Beauty In Front Of The Entrance. - Chapter 40: Sitting in front of my neighbor's entrance. Sajou Hitori’s POV.

Sitting in front of my neighbor’s entrance.

Sajou Hitori’s POV.

Trouble. Sometimes you know you’re in trouble but can’t seem to act on it.

For me, that’s now, facing a problem that’s currently unfolding.

Mid-September. Summer vacation has ended, and two weeks have passed.

While it may be described as the end of summer vacation, for someone like me who hardly attends school, there’s hardly any difference between school days and holidays.

Both are the same.

Either stay holed up in my room with my ears covered.

Or wander aimlessly outside.

Either way, it’s meaningless. Just blocking out the unpleasant reality and running away.

My nihilistic life. I often entertain thoughts that aren’t even philosophical, just downright pessimistic.

The monochrome of my life began to gain color during the June rainy season.

I met Rihito, who lives next door, on my birthday—now an irrelevant story.

“…What am I doing?” I groaned.

In front of the entrance. Not my own home, but in front of Rihito’s house.

What am I really doing here? I sank lower, holding my head in my hands.

After Rihito went to school. It was past 9 o’clock.

I had achieved my routine of sitting in front of the Hinata household’s entrance, holding my head in my hands, once again.

I understand.

I understand perfectly well that I’m engaging in some seriously strange behavior.

But even though I order myself in my head to stop this suspicious behavior, I find myself sitting here, holding my head in my hands.

What’s with that? It’s scary. Maybe I have somnambulism.

If this behavior were truly inexplicable and happening unconsciously, it would be understandable as an illness… no, that’s the end if I just resign myself to that conclusion, but it’s not like that.

I know the reason.

Mid-August. The summer when I truly realized my feelings for Rihito.

It was a day when my monochrome world was suddenly filled with vivid colors.

That summer, I fell in love with the boy next door.

…It sounds poetic when you put it that way, but in reality, it’s just Rihito’s room. Jumping onto his bed… and then, well, you know. I can’t believe I did that, even thinking back now makes me want to die.

I never thought about it before, but apparently, people can die of shame. I want to die. I want to disappear.

Well, my spirit might be dying, but unfortunately, unlike my unhealthy face, my body is perfectly healthy, and life goes on, for better or worse.

Realizing my feelings for him combined with this embarrassment made it awkward to face him.

“Actually, I’ll die if I do. If I see him right now, I’ll definitely die…”

I have this conviction that I’ll jump headfirst into an encounter. Literally, headfirst. Like a water balloon filled with red paint bursting.

No one passes by, but I bury my face in my knees. I didn’t want anyone, not even myself, to see my flushed face.

But even so, it’s not like I’m okay with just staying like this.

Today, I’ve resolved to go to the entrance of the house next door, hold my knees, and resign myself.

Then I decide to try again tomorrow, and again I end up holding my knees, postponing.

Delaying. Postponing. Putting it on hold. Suspending. Dragging it out.

…Before I knew it, a month had passed. Why?

During that time, all I did was writhe in embarrassment in front of Rihito’s house, holding my knees… effectively doing nothing. It was a nihilistic existence, worse than stagnation. It’s painful. I want to die.

Even with such empty actions, days continue to pass. They overlap.

In my heart, there’s a discomfort like snow piling up, not knowing what expression to wear when we meet. As days pass, it accumulates like snow in a snowy region.

It doesn’t melt even in the lingering summer heat, leaving behind pristine snow without a single footprint.

How nice it would be if this were real snow. I still don’t feel ready to shovel it.

As a result, after Rihito went to school, I spent my days holding my head in front of his house.

The fact that I head there after he’s gone to school shows just how pathetic I am. Realizing that only makes me more anxious.

“…This won’t do. I have to do something.”

If I continue like this, I’ll just be a stalker.

I’m sure I’m not that kind of person… I hope so.

But no matter how much I try to motivate myself, I can’t seem to fix it.

Just thinking of Rihito’s face makes my cheeks flush.

It’s serious. It’s too late. It’s terminal.

I never thought I’d get so deeply involved in love.

That’s the kind of thing girls who lead normal school lives do, sparkling and falling in love, talking about boyfriends like accessories, having fun gossiping with friends about crushes… I’m no good at that.

I only went to school normally until about the second year of junior high, and even then, I kept my distance from others, so I’m completely clueless about those kinds of stories.

My knowledge was skewed. And in a negative direction, too.

This is not good, I press my forehead against my knees and rub it back and forth.

Me, in love…

I used to look at those stories of girls talking excitedly about boys in their class or confessing to seniors as if they were from a different world, with a somewhat detached gaze… and now I’m in love.

It’s embarrassing in many ways. In fact, just the word “love” is embarrassing. Why does the heart exist? Are these base intentions?… It’s cold, I want to die.

But even so, if I continue like this, it won’t develop at all. It’ll just fade away and be forgotten.