It was a leisurely afternoon under the warm sunshine. Kir laid stretched out, with his chin resting on his arm. It was tea time.
The light breeze gently brushed Kirâs hair. When our eyes met, he gave me a raw grin.
It was a beautiful scene. Bright blonde hair, as if spun out of fine threads of gold, and purple eyes that accentuated his charm.
What would have happened if he hadnât been blessed with such good looks?
That angelic appearance, which somehow covered up his wicked personality, was praised a lot. And it seems to have become even more refined in the past year.
But you mustnât be fooled by that face. You never know when his evil nature will make an appearance again.
His name is Kir. And he is rotten to his core.
Still, seeing that smile of his, it seemed like he was in a good mood. Perhaps itâs because itâs been a while since he last attended a tea time.
I really envy his soft hair fluttering in the wind. Unable to resist, I reached out to stroke Kirâs hair.
His eyes followed my hand, but he didnât stop me. Oh, lucky!
Heâd often let me do this when we were younger, but from some point on, it just stopped. Since itâd been such a long time since Iâd last had this opportunity, I kept stroking.
It was as soft as silk. It wouldâve been great if Kirâs personality was just as soft as his hair and that angelic appearance. Then he would be the most attractive guy in the world.
Ah, thinking of charming men reminds me of that driver I met yesterday. And the absurd incident that followed.
This is something you have to share with a friend to feel better.
âYou know, I think I have a bit of a special ability.â
âWhat kind of ability?â
He asked in a bored voice, as if he wasnât particularly interested, and was only listening for my sake.
Itâs surprising how, even with his young age, he could still mask his tone and behavior with boredom. Iâm scared of how dangerous he could grow up to be in just a few years.
I continued stroking his hair, and hoped he would stay at least this nice.
âThe ability to seduce people by slapping them, perhaps?â
I said mysteriously, since itâs doubtful that it can truly be considered an ability. I was about to explain in more detail when Kir suddenly grabbed my wrist, stopping me from playing with his hair.
âAh!â
My eyes whipped to Kir, surprised by his sudden behavior, wondering how Iâd offended him. His eyes were burning like an eagleâs. The easy smile was gone, and his mouth had turned stiff and cold.
His angelic face disappeared, and a devil from hell seemed to take its place.
I shut up instinctively, sensing the dangerous atmosphere.
âWho did you slap?â
âN-no⦠what happened wasâ¦â
I started to explain, but immediately stopped when I noticed the fire of rage engulfing Kirâs eyes. I realized that he was on the verge of losing control. This was going to be troublesome.
He then shouted something I could never forget.
âI told you not to hit anyone else! If you want to hit someone, hit me! Hit me all you want!â
For a man who shouted such things, Kirâs expression was as serious as ever. My childhood friendâs secret taste hasnât changed a bit.
***
My life was absolutely pathetic.
Oh, I should be more specific. My past life was absolutely pathetic.
Yes, I am someone who died and was reborn with a new bodyâa little unique reincarnation, since I can remember my past life.
In fact, I canât even complain since half of my past lifeâs misery was self-inflicted.
My past life was on the shorter side. I died miserably at the age of twenty in an unfortunate accident. I never even got to experience a relationship, young as I was.
My previous life was pretty bland.
Thereâs this saying that âadults always know best,â right? I canât say that I completely agree, but in my case, it turned out to be correct.
You should study and go to a good university. Build up your specs. Your grades matter. Have a dream!
Of course, at that early age, the words just went in one ear and out the other. It all sounded like bothersome nagging to me.
Though my parents werenât the affectionate sort, I still lived depending on them. So I didnât know how harsh the world was. When youâre a kid, you donât realize how sad and challenging making money could be.
âAre you sure youâre here to study? You should get some better grades.â
My homeroom teacher took me aside and told me when my report card came out.
âDid you do well on your test this time? You need to study. If you live like that, youâll regret it,â and so on and so forth. I was so sick of hearing the eldersâ nagging.
Yet, despite everything, I was not interested in studying and continued living as I pleased.
âWhen you grow up, you will have to make your own living.â
âWe can only support you until you graduate. You should take care of yourself after that.â
My parents told me tiredly, instead of the usual nagging, when I handed them my report card.
My friends complain that they feel like dying after the several after-school academies their parents make them attend. But in my case, money was tight, and my parents spent so much time at work that my affairs were pretty much an afterthought.
We werenât poor enough to starve, but I didnât have the freedom to dream much and could rarely spend time with my parents. I could only see them as they went to work with a tired face.
They couldnât miss work, so they never participated in any of my events, be it my elementary school graduation, middle and high school graduations, or entrance exams. I was always alone at home, eating the food in the refrigerator when hungry, from when I was in the lower grades of elementary school all the way up.