Chapter 34 - Kouhei and a Punch
It’s only natural to become an elementary school student after graduating from kindergarten.
Like a caterpillar becoming a butterfly.
Well, reality isn’t that dramatic.
At my local elementary school, there were already a few familiar faces. Over time, those familiar faces led to more acquaintances, and before I knew it, I had settled into my first-grade life. I didn’t aim to make a hundred friends, but I did gain a fair share.
Naturally, Marimo also enrolled in the same school. Even though we were in different classes, we often walked home together since we lived in the same direction.
One day, on our way home.
“I played jump rope with my classmates today!”
“Let me guess, you came in first, didn’t you?”
“Wow! How did you know, Kou-chan?”
“Shut up! It’s obvious!”
On another day.
“Kou-chan, can you recite the entire multiplication table?”
“Of course! I can even do the sevens without any mistakes!”
“Really? What about the thirty-ones?”
“…I can’t! There’s no such thing!”
Marimo always seemed to be having fun. As we moved up through the grades, we sometimes ended up in the same class, and our friendship continued to grow.
Marimo was progressing smoothly.
Or so it seemed, but life often has a knack for throwing unexpected challenges your way.
By the time we reached fifth grade, a period famous for the invisible wall of “awkwardness” that tends to form between boys and girls, it was well-known. However, for Marimo and me, that wall never appeared.
Perhaps it was because I’d been dragged around by this genius of the opposite sex for as long as I could remember. Before I could build a wall between boys and girls, I had already constructed one between genius and ordinary, and by that point, that wall had long since been shattered.
Thus, the “barrier-free man,” Kirishima Kouhei, was born.
“Kouhei! Could you pass this to one of the girls?”
A classmate handed me the class logbook.
“Sure, no problem.”
I casually delivered it to the designated girl with the efficiency of a delivery boy, earning me favor among the boys.
“Kou-chan, I was asked to pass this to Aoyama-kun!”
Similarly, Marimo thrived as a messenger for the girls.
For her, the concept of personal barriers was a relic of a bygone era. She’d announce herself with a cheery “Excuse me!” and dive right into anyone’s personal space.
“Oh, there you are, Aoyama-kun! Perfect! Here’s the class log!”
“Th-thanks, K-Kamino…”
“See you, Kou-chan! Oh, wait for me after school, okay? Let’s walk home together!”
“Yeah, sure.”
Later, Aoyama-kun would evolve the Pikachu I’d been carefully raising into a Raichu, but that’s a story for another time.
Marimo’s boundless energy and open-hearted nature made her loved by everyone. Her charisma was already comparable to sunlight, and she served as the class president every year. When we were in the same class, I was usually nominated as the vice-president.
But of course, in any social group, there will always be those who harbor resentment toward the leader. Marimo’s trial came that year.
“That’s strange…”
One day, when I went to the shoe lockers, I found Marimo pacing back and forth.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, Kou-chan. It’s just, I can’t find one of my shoes.”
“Huh? Maybe it fell somewhere?”
“That’s what I thought, but it’s nowhere to be found. Hmm…this is troublesome.”
As it turned out, Marimo had angered one of the girls.
She was beautiful, brilliant, and loved by all, while she loved everyone back. There are always people who feel irked by someone like that.
As a teenager, you might understand these feelings as immature, but as a fifth grader, it was too complex for me to grasp.
And it didn’t help that Marimo couldn’t understand those feelings either. Or rather, it probably wasn’t even within the realm of her imagination.
“Oh, sorry. I accidentally threw Kamino-san’s shoe in the trash. Right, Ta-kun?”
I’ve forgotten her name, but she was like the queen bee of the otaku group, always surrounded by a group of unnoticed boys. Her top lieutenant, Ta-kun, had thrown Marimo’s shoe away.
Naturally, I was furious.
“What the hell were you thinking…wait, what’s up with you, Marimo?”
It was Marimo, the victim herself, who stopped me in my tracks.
“Hehe, sorry! My shoe was probably dirty anyway!”
She was handling it like an adult.
It seemed like her genius had calculated the best possible response.
But dealing with a group of immature elementary school kids with an adult response can backfire.
From that day onward, the queen bee started picking on Marimo even more, and each time, Marimo would respond with the same tolerant attitude.
Looking back, had she continued to maintain that stance, the queen bee might have lost interest and moved on. But there was one fool who couldn’t tolerate it any longer.
That fool was me.
The day for this fool to act arrived about a week after the harassment began.
After school, I rushed ahead of everyone and hid by the shoe lockers. When I spotted Ta-kun reaching for Marimo’s shoes again, I made my move.
“Hey, you! Knock it off!!”
It was the first—and last—time I threw a serious punch in my life.
The punch landed perfectly, carrying the full weight of my body behind it and hitting Ta-kun square in the face. His nose burst with a strange “mokyo” sound, and blood sprayed out.
It was a nosebleed.
Looking back, I was scrawny, but in elementary school, when the physical differences weren’t as pronounced, a punch like that could cause a nosebleed if the target wasn’t prepared.
Don’t worry—Ta-kun had no external injuries aside from the bleeding.
“Who’s next?”
Terrifying.
Covered in Ta-kun’s blood, I turned on the queen bee and her followers.
“I-I’m sorry! S-sorry! Please, forgive us!”
The queen bee stumbled backward, sitting down in fear.
If a kid covered in blood came at me, I’d probably wet myself, too.
“Sensei! Sensei!!”
One of the boys ran off to get a teacher.
They had the nerve to call for a teacher, despite their own actions. I was filled with righteous indignation, but clearly, I’d gone too far.
Way too far.
“Kou-chan! Kou-chan!!”
“What the—”
Hearing the commotion, Marimo came running and quickly jumped on me.
“Why!? Why did you do this!?”
“Stop crying!”
“Sniff…hic… But still!!”
Why did Marimo have to cry?
She hadn’t done anything wrong.
As that thought sank in, my anger swelled from deep within.
And then, as if to declare it to the world, I shouted at the top of my lungs.
“Anyone who makes you cry won’t get away with it!!”
Despite the fact that I was the one making her cry at that very moment, what an idiot I was.
And then, I just kept going. Ugh, it’s embarrassing to even remember.
“Marimo is amazing! So, leave all the background noise to me!!”
“Yeah! Sniff… Yeah!!”
“I’m a man! You, a girl, can rely on me!! I’ll protect you!!”
In this age of gender equality, this kind of line would probably get me into trouble from every direction.
But I was young, so please forgive me.
Afterward, I got a thorough scolding from my teacher, and my parents were called in. But when I got home, my actions were praised, and the Kirishima and Kamino families held a joint celebration party.
The parents should have been given a proper lesson in social norms.
Around this time, changes started to appear in Marimo as well.