Tada, Sore Dake de Yokattan desu Chapter 4: Revolution

My knowledge regarding Ishikawa was non-existent.

Even up to the very conclusion, the reason behind Ishikawa's tears at the observatory remained a mystery to me.

I surmised there was an emotion at play that I couldn't fathom, and that by interfering out of mere curiosity, I would likely become deeply entangled.

Consequently, I refrained from delving deeper, choosing instead to depart from the scene. In simpler terms, I fled.

This was because I had no desire to experience pain.

Trash.

This label felt undeniably fitting for my actions.

?

If presented with an opportunity to justify my behavior, I would assert that this wasn't my perpetual state.

A year prior.

I shared a bus ride with Masaya.

Masaya Kishitani was an individual of genius, universally admired. The moment he entered middle school, he instantly became the focal point of the class, with both male and female classmates frequently smiling in his direction. Around that time, a sports festival was held, and as the final relay runner, he effortlessly erased the deficit, securing victory. Back then, the common sentiment was, “That’s Masaya from Class One,” and he was at the zenith of his popularity. Surely, no one possessed the common sense to dispute this, correct? Except for the foolish, perhaps?

Even I found myself profoundly in awe of him. Not merely once, but on twenty-five separate occasions. For someone like me, utterly devoid of any talent, he was precisely the sort of person I ought to have harbored resentment towards. Yet, that was not my reaction. Gazing upon Masaya only served to make me feel exceedingly insignificant; he was that remarkably special.

Fate would have it that I was seated next to Masaya on the bus.

“Oh, Sugawara. Mind if I take this seat?”

He sat beside me, exuding the subtle fragrance of a refreshing hair conditioner. With an air of complete naturalness, he initiated a conversation with me; it was akin to a supernatural art.

In essence, his intention was to engage me in conversation.

“Speaking of which, we’ve scarcely spoken. We haven't exchanged a word since the Opening Ceremony, have we?”

“Well, yes.”

His demeanor was excessively casual, and I found myself responding instinctively. He possessed a certain power that I simply couldn't disregard.

“Of course, isn't it? Ahh, it's quite striking and unusual. We were never placed in the same groups, and you always seem to vanish after school or during the noontime break. Our club activities are suspended today, so I seized this chance to speak with you.”

“Eh, but aren’t I merely a fragile existence destined to disappear at any given moment?”

“Don't just vanish, man. There are still individuals in this world who wish to know you.”

“From which celestial body?”

“Earth. What’s with that response? What occupies your thoughts typically?”

“The starving children in Africa, or something similar.”

“O-oh, that sounds commendable.”

Naturally, as a resident of a developed nation on this planet, I would never voice that, for I perpetually harbored a disdain for this world.

However, Masaya seemed to interpret my words as a sign of me transcending national boundaries to observe global history, and he nodded approvingly.

“You're remarkable. I perceive you in a completely different light now. If you've been contemplating such matters since Middle School, someone like you is bound to receive a Nobel Prize in the future.”

“You're overthinking it, Kishitani. I heard you experience anxiety when you observe individuals using chopsticks incorrectly. Is that accurate?”

“It is, it is. Well, to elaborate, it's likely because my sister is quite clumsy, and consequently, I've become extremely particular about it. Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder? In any case, it's an odd personality trait.”

He struck me as someone rather complex to interact with. As these thoughts crossed my mind, I suddenly became aware of something.

I was engaged in a perfectly normal conversation with a classmate. To an outside observer, this might have seemed entirely ordinary, but to me, it was highly irregular.

Thus, I couldn't resist staring intently at Masaya. He tilted his head, a look of bewilderment on his face, but I continued to fixate on him. Methodically, I examined his nose, eyes, ears, mouth, hair, and that small mole. Through this scrutiny, I grasped something profound. It had been an considerable time since I had taken a genuine interest in another person, it seemed.

Masaya Kishitani possessed a unique gift.

An undeniable, heaven-sent talent for attracting others to him.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Do you see a ghost behind me or something?”

I remained locked in a blank stare at him until he finally spoke. His innate ability itself had startled me. Or rather, the experience of perceiving an ability in others left me profoundly taken aback.

It felt akin to making contact with extraterrestrial beings.

I couldn't even deem myself trash, while Masaya was a born genius.

Throughout the two months I conversed with Masaya on the bus, I gradually reverted to my former, more ordinary self.

If someone initiated a conversation, I exerted my utmost effort to respond, and while consuming my meals, I’d attempt small talk with the girl across from me. During class, my focus would be on diligently taking notes, ensuring no homework was forgotten, and always submitting assignments punctually.

I suppose my feelings towards Masaya encompassed a blend of jealousy, envy, and deep respect; that encounter with him left an indelible mark upon me.

But as I mentioned, this transformation was transient, lasting only another two months.

“Those individuals who achieve high scores on the Human Power Test tend to become arrogant and irritating as a result, don't they?”

This occurred during the noon break. I was situated in a quiet corner of the classroom when I happened to overhear a hushed conversation among some girls.

I was engrossed in my reading, and despite my proximity, they paid me no mind whatsoever.

“Class three is particularly noteworthy; I heard someone actually handed over her test results to others.”

“The test card for the Human Power Test? Wah, that’s pretty high, isn’t it?”

“Right right. 12th. She’s boasting around with it. How shameless.”

“Eh? What’s her name?”

“That Kotomi Ishikawa has a screw loose in her head, don’t you think?”

And the boring gossip started to veer off course.

“Want to tease her?”

Finally someone suggested this.

With a nonchalant look, she said such a cruel line, and it left my back shivering.

So I instinctively stood up. They widened their eyes, rooted to the spot, and I stepped towards them. To be honest, I was terrified by their stares. Ever since young, I was always given such condescending looks.

Perhaps I wanted to get rid of my nickname as trash, and become a hero like Masaya.

“You girls are horrible.” I summoned my courage to say that, “Just rumors, and you think up of such a stupid plan. It’s an eyesore.”

They held down the hems of their blazers, and appeared to be trying to say something, but with more stares gathered upon them, they could only scamper away from the classroom.

I thought I was fighting against evil.

(I was nervous, but I did express myself…maybe I might get everyone’s approval.)

So I had such an optimistic thought.

I stood in place, and had a deep breath, returned to my seat, and continued reading.

However, reality was not that pretty.

Days later, we had a Human Power Test at the end of the second semester.

During the first semester, I was 297th for the Human Power Test.

For the second semester, I was 345th.

It was the complete opposite. I was stunned by this slide in results, holding the Test Card that was given to me, and dumbfounded for moments.

I sat in a corner of the classroom, staring at this number. Suddenly a boy went behind me.

He peered at my grades, and I instinctively turned away. Kouta Katou gave me a look of pity.

“So it slid…” he said, “A few people suggested not to vote for Sugawara.”

How kind of them.

My response probably wasn’t too drastic, and Katou, feeling grieved for me, consoled me,

“You scolded a group of girls, right? That infuriated them, and they went about spreading unfounded rumors, like ‘you peeped into the girls toilet’ or ‘you molested them’, or something.”

“Just for that reason…?”

“Yes.”

“Oh…that’s stupid.”

“Right. But, I can understand their feelings, of wanting to bullying someone who gets high scores in the Human Power Test…” Katou added with sympathy. “I’m not talking with you again, Sugawara. I don’t want to get involved…bye then.”

Katou hurriedly left the scene, so as to avoid having others realize that he chatted with me.

His actions allowed me to realize something.

I see. No matter how much I worked hard or devoted myself, all I can appear to be is awkward, embarrassing, doing foolish things. I thought I was gracefully swimming freestyle in a lake under the moonlight, but I’m just an abandoned puppy struggling in the drain.

And after all I did, others found me repulsive.

Thus, I gave up on working hard. It’s pointless for someone like me to work hard. I should try my best not to attract attention, and become someone unimpressive.

In my eyes, the others have lost their luster.

And so, Masaya himself stopped the harassment of Ishikawa. I always felt that I was worshipping him. My courage would only stoke the flames of their malic, completely meaningless.

Through this incident, I learned two things.

One, I can’t be like Masaya.

Second, it’s better to be trash.

And so, I ended up not caring about others again.

I decided to continue living as trash.

Or at least, that was supposed to be the case.

“‘I’ seem to have some troubles.”

I spent two whole days thinking of the reason why she would cry, yet I had no idea at all, or rather, I couldn’t have, as my mind’s always thinking about random stuff. It’s no different from before.

I was a normal person for two months or so, but that was a year ago. After that, I became trash again. She’s someone of a different world from me, just like how Masaya’s an alien to me.

Thus, I asked my friend Sou, who might come in handy. Inside this lonely room, I awaited his reply,

“Hm, I’m not sure. I never knew her. If you want to discuss this with me, you can be more detailed.”

In the end, even he couldn’t help me out. I didn’t intend to spill the details. I didn’t want to talk to others about Ishikawa that easily.

Sou replied with a question mark, one that had a sigh in it.

“A troublesome personality you have. I can only say that you are becoming ever so conscious of her.

“So I guess that’s it, huh?”

“Right, to a point where you have a crush on her. It is heartbreaking though, to say the least.”

I showed no intention to refute. Crush, maybe he got it.

“Everyone’s voicing the same sentiment. My mother, my father, the educators, even the stories in manga and anime—they all preach the importance of cherishing friends. They insist that even if one is intelligent, friendship is paramount; even if one is powerful, friends hold the highest value. If that’s the case, and everyone around me is rejecting the idea of friendship with me, does that imply I am beyond hope? The Human Power Test… it’s merely a metric.”

“Ah, I understand.”

“Why must I endure such treatment? To be penalized, envied, and discriminated against—I’ve had enough! I don’t crave attention.” She vocalized her pent-up frustrations, adding, “I’m terrified of facing harassment like I did last year…”

“…”

“I despise being mistreated, subjected to glares and scornful clicks of tongues… They believe I deserve this, that my Human Power Test results justify their disdain. It’s agonizing.”

Like a child, Ishikawa’s voice grew frail.

Witnessing her distress, a flicker of annoyance sparked within me.

“I’m aware…”

The words slipped out unintentionally, yet Ishikawa appeared not to hear. She looked up at me, a bewildered expression clouding her features.

Why do you gaze at me like that, Ishikawa? I understand your pain. I summoned the courage to confront that wickedness, though you were unaware.

A surge of dissatisfaction welled up, and reflecting on past events brought a pang to my heart. However, noticing several cuts on Ishikawa’s hands rendered me speechless. I assumed she had injured herself due to careless handling of the scissors. As Ishikawa continued to apply pressure, the wounds inevitably worsened, her palms flushing red.

Glancing down at her hands, I touched my own chest, felt my heart beating, and continued,

“In that case, simply surrender.”

I uttered the words that had been weighing on my mind.

“What’s wrong with being considered trash? What’s wrong with being hated? If you persist in fearing others, living in misery, you won’t be able to attend school. It would be far simpler for you to disregard friendships and navigate this world.”

“How can I possibly do that?” She disregarded my counsel, shaking her head in anguish. “For the past fourteen years, I’ve maintained a forced smile, a mere clown, entertaining others, living solely for my friends.”

“But if this continues, you’ll break, Ishikawa. Didn’t you mention envying me? I’m genuinely concerned for you. I…” Hesitation struck me in that moment, but I pushed myself to continue, “But I like you. I cannot bear to see you suffer any longer.”

I strove to articulate my feelings as best as I could. A warmth spread across my cheeks, and I yearned to plunge my head into the coldest water. Yet, recognizing the gravity of the situation, I shifted my gaze back to her.

For a fleeting instant, Ishikawa ceased her work on the doll. Shortly thereafter, she made to retrieve the s