Arrest

My first conversation with Hayashi Megumi is something painful to recall. It was during our first year of high school.

She probably doesn’t remember, but there was a time when we sat next to each other. Just once, we had a conversation.

Hayashi was the kind of girl who had a lot of friends from the moment we met in high school. Her bold way of speaking could be a flaw at times, but she was beautiful, and her assertiveness drew people to her like loyal followers.

During breaks, her desk was always surrounded by her entourage. Back then, if I went to the bathroom during a break, someone would take my seat without asking, so I couldn’t even step away comfortably.

The stage for our first conversation was the classroom. It was right after a break, when her crowd of friends had dispersed, and class was about to start.

I think it was a history class. I remember our teacher, Saikaigawa-sensei, coming in to start the lesson.

That’s when an eraser fell from Hayashi’s desk.

While yawning, I happened to see it fall, but she didn’t seem to notice. I hesitated. Should I pick up the eraser? Or just leave it?

I figured that if I didn’t, she’d probably complain about it later, so out of pure self-interest, I decided to pick it up.

As I bent down to grab the eraser, I felt a sharp, piercing stare from Hayashi beside me. It was the first time I’d ever felt nervous just picking up an eraser.

“You dropped this.”

I picked up the eraser, placed it on her desk, and said it. Hayashi responded.

But it wasn’t gratitude. Nor was it an apology for making me go out of my way.

“Tch.”

It wasn’t even words—just a tongue click.

To think, after the effort I put into picking up her eraser, her response was a tongue click.

What a girl. To repay kindness like that. From that day on, I vowed never to speak to her again and stuck to it for three years.

Because of that, the number of conversations we had could be counted on one hand. For two people in the same class for three years, you’d expect more, but that’s how it was.

Back then, I hated her. I despised her haughty, arrogant, queen-like attitude.

But spending three years in the same classroom, I couldn’t help but catch glimpses of her out of the corner of my eye. And because of that, I learned a few things about her.

Sure, she was brazen and acted like she owned the place.

But she had a strong sense of loyalty to her friends, was pretty sharp, and had the willpower and drive to express her intentions and see them through.

And, surprisingly, she was quick to cry.

During our third-year sports festival, our class aimed for first place since it was our last one.

We came in second, a close call. Everyone was thrilled with our strong performance. But one girl was shedding big tears.

“Meg-chan, second place is still great, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, exactly!”

Her friends tried to console her, but she didn’t listen.

“I wanted to win with everyone.”

Back then, because of our earlier clash, I watched her loudly lamenting with cold eyes. But looking back now, I can kind of understand how she felt.

I hated her.

I despised her haughty, arrogant, queen-like attitude.

But by the time we graduated high school, it wasn’t just that. Surprisingly, I found myself respecting her in a way.

I admired how she had such firm resolve.

Maybe, back then, I even looked up to her a little.

That’s probably why, when I learned she was a victim of domestic violence, I brought her to my place.

Seeing someone I admired, even a little, cowering from a man’s violence—it might’ve been too much for me to bear.

Of course, I’d never tell her any of this, not even if my life depended on it. I plan to take these feelings to the grave.

Well, maybe it’s not that dramatic.

About a week after I let Hayashi stay at my place, it was after we’d finished dinner.

My phone rang. The number displayed was from the police station.

“Hello?”

I answered the call. Hayashi didn’t seem to know who I was talking to, but she lowered the volume on her tablet.

“Yes. Yes… Alright, I’ll put her on.”

I stood up and handed the phone to Hayashi.

“Who’s it from?”

“The police. It’s about that case.”

I saw Hayashi’s face stiffen. Her hands, holding the tablet, suddenly started trembling.

“…If you don’t take it, there’s no point, right?”

“…Yeah.”

Hayashi took the phone from me.

“Hello… Yes… Yes… Yes… I see.”

Her face darkened even more. A bad feeling crossed my mind.

“…Yes. Yes… Okay. Thank you… Goodbye.”

Hayashi hung up.

“What happened?”

I asked, but Hayashi didn’t answer, her head still bowed. Her complexion wasn’t good. Whatever the news was, it didn’t seem favorable.

“Hayashi?”

“He’s been arrested.”

A long silence followed. The only sound in the room was the relentless ticking of the clock.

Hayashi’s expression didn’t brighten. It was her former lover’s arrest, after all. No matter what he’d done, she must have mixed feelings.

“Domestic violence cases usually only lead to arrests if caught in the act, but with the investigation and the state of my injuries, they confirmed it was severe enough… so he’s been arrested.”

“…That’s good, Hayashi.”

“Is it?”

Her voice was trembling.

“…I didn’t tell him to stop back then. But at the last moment, I filed a report without warning. And now he’s been arrested. I didn’t even consult him. Was this really the right thing to do?”

“…It was the right thing.”

“…But—”

“I’m just glad you’re alive.”

Hayashi looked at me, her face full of fear.

“…Even if I said I’d never forgive him for hurting you, it probably wouldn’t mean much to you. So I won’t say anything about him, or even think about him. I’m an outsider in this, after all. …I’m just glad you’re okay. That’s all.”

Hayashi lowered her head.

“You’ll probably feel guilty. Like you’ve ruined his life. But you were one step away from having your life ruined by him. Everything you did was to survive.”

I stepped closer and grabbed her shoulders.

“It’s okay to struggle with it. But don’t let it eat you up with guilt. Don’t let yourself spiral into self-destruction. That would be like saying everything you did to survive was for nothing.”

Had I ever looked at someone so earnestly before?

“…It would be like saying all my efforts were for nothing.”

My back was itching with embarrassment.

“It’s natural to feel conflicted. But don’t make my efforts meaningless. If you ever feel like giving up on life, I’d rather you live on, even if it means resenting me.”

Feeling mortified, I decided to go back to cleaning the bathroom, a task I’d left half-done before dinner. Hair had started clogging the drain, tangled with shampoo residue—it’s pretty gross to deal with.

“Thank you, Yamamoto.”

As I headed to the bathroom, I realized Hayashi was behind me.

“No need to thank me. I’m just saying harsh things, making you go along with my selfish actions.”

“That’s just how you say things, isn’t it?”

“…If you think so, maybe you’re right.”

“I’ve been thinking lately.”

“About what?”

“Why didn’t I talk to you more in high school?”

…Funny, I was thinking the same thing.

I had plenty of reasons to dislike her. I’m not the type to act superior or avoid people altogether, but Hayashi was the one exception.

Even as my opinion of her softened, I never changed how I dealt with her.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“You’re lucky to have a chance to change your mindset.”

If someone got to live their life twice, would their second life be better than the first? I don’t think so—that’s my take.

What makes a life better isn’t time—it’s mindset. Facing challenges, struggling, making decisions—that’s how people polish their lives. Whether it’s your first life or a second, that doesn’t change. Neglect it, and your life dulls.

“From now on, I’m going to try changing how I interact with people.”

“…You don’t even have that many friends to change things with.”

“I do. One’s standing right behind me.”

Hayashi, behind me, fell silent. Embarrassed, I didn’t say anything more and kept working quietly.

But soon, we both realized something.

Her ex’s arrest meant she was safe now. Which also meant there was no longer a reason for me to keep sheltering her.