It began early on in elementary school. I think it was in the third grade, back when friend groups were beginning to settle. We used to move a lot because mom's work forced us to so I never had any proper friends. I don't think anyone from my old schools remember me much. If they do, they probably think of the crybaby who relied on the teacher too much.
Mom stopped moving us all over Japan when I was third grade mostly because my grades weren't doing too great and because she managed to find a new home job. I still didn't have any friends. Though, I talked to the neighbor sometimes but he was much older than me and probably only remembers me as the cute little kid who lived next door before he moved onto college. In fact, he probably only talked to me because I was cute (I have childhood photos, I know what I looked like).
Anyways, it was already late in the school year when it happened. The other third graders had some sort of unspoken, not-written list of rules that everyone had to have memorized. Rule number three: You must have at least two friends by the middle of the school year. And, as luck would have, I moved into town after the deadline.
The first day I was approached happened on my birthday. I remember being excited to eat some treat that my mom packed for my lunch. Three kids stood across from where I sat in the cafeteria - they eventually became familiar faces, it was always those three unless one was absent - and they had a very snobby expression. One might of have been snickering. Another snatched my bag from the table. He looked like a halfway inflated balloon after a birthday party.
They inspected my food, taking everything out one by one, then threw the empty bag at my face and announced that I had some disgusting germ-thing left in my bag and if anyone sat near me, I'd infect them with some nasty disease that only I had. The closest person to me was at least two arm's length away in either direction.
Everyday the closest person to me got farther and farther away as the three bullies developed their disease lie and added more reasons. Anyone absent due to sickness caught something from me. Breaking a bone was karma for feeling sorry for me.
Eventually I told my neighbor about it. I'm not sure why I told him and not my parents or a worker at the school, but that's what I did. He promised me he'd do something about it and three days later I was called to the office to talk about the bullying and identify who was at the core. The next day my teacher lectured us about bullying until our ears were falling off. It slowly died down but it never went away. The three kids caught me the following week to shout about the rudeness of telling on them. After that they only did things while no one was watching. At least it was better than it was before.
"Are you doing good?" my neighbor asked after a month.
I nodded. "Yes, thank you...ah…" I played with the hem of my shirt and looked away, realizing that I'd never known his name. "What's your name?"
He chuckled like he enjoyed watching my nervous habit. "It's Tsukishima Akiteru."