When I started High School, My Childhood Friend, who had suddenly become distant and cold, was harassed by a stranger. I stepped in to help, and as a result, from the following day, My Childhood Friend's behavior became unusual. - Chapter 15

“Natsuki! Let’s play at the park!”

Up until middle school, Natsuki had been full of energy. He’d run outside to play with friends, returning home covered in dirt and wide, carefree smiles. He was the kind of kid who thrived on attention—fearless, eager, and a bit of a show-off. He loved being around people. It wasn’t just Shizune; he had many friends, a wide social circle, and every day was brimming with joy and adventure.

But that bright, childlike spark would later come back to haunt him.

“Hey, how about we play soccer at the park next week?” Natsuki’s voice had been hopeful, bright.

“Ah, sorry. I can’t—I have cram school,” one friend replied.

“Oh, right. Yeah, me too,” another chimed in. “I’ll have to pass.”

“Seriously? Everyone’s busy with lessons?”

Even after starting middle school, Natsuki acted the same as he always had. But things were changing. While he stayed the same, those around him grew up, their priorities shifting. One by one, his friends drifted away, busy with new commitments and interests. Eventually, Natsuki became the odd one out. Attempts to talk to classmates were met with half-hearted replies, and the kids he used to play with started avoiding him.

If only he had learned to spend more time on his own, to grow at his own pace. But Natsuki had always leaned on the presence of others, dependent on the company that had surrounded him for as long as he could remember. That dependence became his undoing.
By the time half a year had passed in middle school, Natsuki realized something was wrong. He was becoming isolated. Even so, he didn’t believe he was disliked. There were still a few people he considered friends, and one person he thought of as a best friend. He was sure that if he just kept trying, he could maintain those bonds.

But desperation clung to his every action, and in the end, even those few friends drifted away.

“Hey, isn’t Natsuki kind of annoying?” he overheard one day, his heart dropping at the sound.

“Yeah, he’s loud and exhausting to be around,” another voice agreed.

The words struck him like a blow, shattering his belief that he wasn’t disliked. It was then he truly understood—he was alone, an unwanted presence. The realization stung, deep and unfamiliar, leaving a wound where carefree ignorance had once been. Maybe people had talked behind his back all along, but he’d never known, never considered it. His heart, unprepared, crumbled.

Worst of all, the friend he had trusted the most despised him the most.

“Natsuki? Ugh, I wish he’d just disappear. Can’t he just vanish from school?” The friend’s voice was filled with disdain.
“Really? But you seem friendly with him.”

“Yeah, but that’s just an act. I don’t approach him—he just clings to me. I really wish he’d stop.”

Natsuki had wondered, in that moment, why they wouldn’t just say it to his face. An open confrontation would have been better than this whispered betrayal. But there was nothing he could do against whispers behind closed doors.

He blamed himself for his dependency, for always needing others. He knew he’d brought this on himself, but it didn’t stop the doubt from creeping in. From then on, he began to question everything.

Even his family—his parents, his sister—he convinced himself they must secretly resent him. They only pretended to care out of obligation. He stopped speaking to them altogether, ignoring their concern as more falsehoods.

At school, he withdrew further, talking to no one. Eventually, he stopped going altogether, locking himself away in his room.
“Hey, big brother, dinner’s ready,” his sister would say from the other side of the door.

“…Tell Mom to leave it by the door,” he’d reply.

“Why don’t you come eat with us?”

“…Just leave me alone.”

Looking back, he felt a twinge of guilt for how he treated her. But at the time, he wanted nothing more than to shut everyone out.

Despite avoiding school, he kept studying. It was the only thing that could hold his focus and push away the gnawing thoughts, even if just for a while.

Then one day, amidst the quiet, Shizune knocked on his door.
“Natsuki! Open up! I want to play games and hide out, too!”
The memory of that day was vivid, burned into his mind. The sudden banging, so loud it felt like the door would break, jolted him from his chair.

(…Shizune? Why is she here?)

They’d ended up in separate classes when they started middle school, and they had drifted apart. Natsuki hadn’t thought of her in months. Her visit was as unexpected as it was bewildering.

“What? It’s not even locked,” he muttered as the door creaked open.

“Whoa, it’s so dark in here. What’s with this room?” Shizune’s eyes scanned the shadowed space.

“Why are you here? Don’t just barge in.”

“Excuse me? I’m the one who’s been delivering your homework all this time because you’re skipping class! I’ve earned the right to come in,” she shot back, crossing her arms.

“Oh… sorry.”

“Are you seriously studying right now? This is depressing,” she said, incredulous.

Back then, when his world was dim, Shizune had been the one to light it up.

“…What a nightmare,” Natsuki muttered, eyes opening to the faint light of dawn.

It was 5 a.m., and he’d woken up at an awkward time. He found himself on the floor, half tangled in his blanket from where he’d rolled out of bed.

(My whole life, I’ve always relied on someone, haven’t I?)
Fresh from sleep, past memories surfaced, unbidden and raw.

Letting them linger, Natsuki climbed back into bed, the comfort of sleep drawing him back under.