Prologue
Seven Years of Age
"You bookworm!" one of the boys teased me. "You'll never be anything good . . . aside from an over-obsessed bookworm!"
I stayed silent as I continued to flip to the next page of the book.
"Ha!" the rest of his little gang snickered playfully.
"Not gonna talk, girly?" the boy flicked my forehead. "No wonder you fail P.E. class!"
Again, the rest of them snickered at me.
By then, tears had started to fall from my eyes . . . falling to reach the tip of my chin. Those tears fell down onto the delicate pages of the book, leaving a translucent splotch onto the words.
"Crybaby!" he pointed his finger accusingly at me, guffawing as if he never laughed before.
Soon, I was sobbing . . . and sobbing . . . and sobbing . . . and sobbing. How could they be so mean? Was I not good enough for them? I have tried and tried again and again to become better in any sport, but I was horrible in each and every one . . . from soccer . . . to basketball . . . to baseball . . . to even the simplest of them all—running. What sport could I possibly do now? Everyone is different, no?
A boy of our age stood up against the crowd. He walked in front of me with his arms wide, as if he was a blockade. His eyes couldn't be seen, and his beige hair was much different than from the others. He was none other than Fuji Syusuke—the guy whom everyone loved and adored, aced every single sport out there, and was number one in anything he did, including academics.
"Stop it, you all," he said, eyes now open to reveal his enticing cerulean eyes. "You're being too harsh. No one should have to go through such circumstances. Everyone is different, no?"
His last phrase . . . was what I just said in my mind previously. The exact words . . .
The boys cowered back from their actions. It was the popular Fuji after all. No one dared oppose his entity.
"Apologize," he commended them.
They were hesitant to reply, "We're sorry."
Soon, they scrambled away from the two of us and I thanked him for saving me.
"Arigato, Fuji-kun," I bowed my head in amity and respect.
"It was nothing," he smiled, eyes now closed. "Saa . . . Which reminds me to ask . . . What is your name?"
"Suzuki," I stated my last name cheerfully before including my full name. "Suzuki Yukoto."
