What Hayashi Megumi wants to convey
After eating lunch, we sat facing each other.
“So, how’s the friend’s representative speech coming along?”
Yamamoto rubbed his full stomach and asked me.
For a while, I explained to Yamamoto the results of yesterday’s discussions, where we all struggled together. But as I spoke, I couldn’t help but feel that despite spending hours, we hadn’t made much progress.
At this rate, would we even make it in time for the wedding? A faint unease crept over me.
“In other words, you thought about a lot of things, but got almost no results.”
“Hmm…”
Yamamoto rested his hand on his chin, lost in thought for a moment.
“…First off, why don’t we think about why the discussion didn’t move forward at all yesterday?”
“Huh?”
The idea of examining the reasons behind a failed experience felt like nothing but pain.
“It’s exactly because it’s a failed experience that you need to face it, right?”
“…Ugh.”
“What, do you think failure is just something unpleasant? That’s not how it works. Failure happens because there was a problem. That means, the next time the same situation comes up, it’s the easiest thing to address for success. If you succeed despite a problem, you’ll never be able to replicate that success. Why? Because you can’t see the reason for the failure. On the other hand, if you fail once and figure out why, you won’t make the same mistake again.”
I see.
So, the clearer the problem, the easier it is to succeed next time.
That makes sense, I suppose.
For example, if you got a low score on a test because you filled in the answers one column off, you could just make sure not to do that again, and the fix is simple. But if you studied hard, prepared thoroughly for the test, and still got a low score, you wouldn’t know where to begin fixing it.
And if you somehow managed to succeed once in that situation, improving would be even harder.
“…But this time, I don’t think the reason we couldn’t pull the discussion together is that simple.”
“That’s true. But I know what needs improvement.”
“What’s that?”
“What did you all want to say to Ishida, who’s getting married?”
…What I want to say to Ichi?
This time, Ichi asked me to give the friend’s representative speech at her wedding.
Since then, I’ve looked up how to give a friend’s representative speech. Akari taught me the formal way to do it, and I’ve been trying to write the speech based on that.
According to the speech guidelines, the key was to praise the other person.
“I don’t know.”
When Ichi asked me to give the friend’s representative speech, did I want to praise her?
That wasn’t it.
That’s not what it was supposed to be.
But I didn’t know the answer either.
Still, after reading all those articles, I thought that’s what I should do, so I stubbornly focused only on how to praise her.
“…That’s why the discussion didn’t come together.”
“Yeah.”
Yamamoto’s right.
Of course the discussion wouldn’t come together.
I wasn’t thinking about praising Ichi wholeheartedly in the first place.
All I’ve been thinking about is how to praise Ichi.
But what did I want to say to Ichi?
Yamamoto’s words made my rigid thoughts feel just a little softer.
The articles said that for a friend’s representative speech, you should praise the other person.
So, I kept thinking about how to praise Ichi, nothing else.
But that’s not right.
The job I was entrusted with… it’s not about giving a friend’s representative speech to praise Ichi.
The job I need to do is to convey something to Ichi.
What to convey.
One correct answer is to praise her.
But that’s not the only correct answer.
“What do you want to say to Ishida?”
“…I…”
What did I really want to say to Ichi…?
The first 20,000 points!
It’s in sight!!!
I’m already tearing up!
Thank you all so much!
Really, thank you!
But don’t enjoy GW without me!
Don’t leave me alone!
Let’s all fall as far as we can fall!!!
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