I, who advocate giving up, feel like a disqualified person

"...You really think so?" She turned to look at me. Although she was still trying to appear angry, I could tell that her mood had brightened considerably.

"Of course I think so." I had already given up on this matter. If someone hadn't told me face to face that she supported me very much, I would have had no reason to continue.

"Well, I'm impressed," she said, standing up suddenly from the bench. "If you want to hear my story, then you can hang out with me from now on."

"Of course no problem." I'm free in the afternoon anyway, so as long as I don't get caught by nosy people, it'll be fine.

"It will take a long time to tell the story of what happened to me." Looking very happy, she walked towards the classmate who was holding a sign to promote the event.

. . . . .

"Actually, I really hate school." "Oh, I feel the same way."

Even as we two, armed with our crudely crafted tickets, searched for a magic classroom within the facility known as campus, our conversation was unkind to the concept the building represented. I've long harbored a dislike for schools, believing that these seemingly magnificent halls of learning aren't filled with people seeking education, but rather like garbage cans, accepting anyone with the most awful personality or attitude. These individuals have severely tarnished my impression of the school.

But I didn't know that Xiaoye beside me also had the same idea. It seems that we can resonate with each other to some extent.

"Maybe it's because of my appearance and my breasts." She touched her hair that fell to her ears, then looked down at her breasts that were big enough to cover her steps. "These have always troubled me."

"..." I didn't know how to respond for a moment.

"Children are like this. They're always curious about those who are different from the group, and they have an innate rejection and hostility towards them." She sighed slightly, "This silver hair isn't dyed; it's the color I was born with."

Silver hair is actually white hair. This happens to people with genetic defects who lack melanin in their bodies.

"Although it doesn't attract any curious looks now, when I was a child, I felt inferior because everyone else had black hair and I had this color. I was also ridiculed for no reason - I didn't choose to be born this way."

"Well..."

I've actually felt this deeply. Not just hair, but even facial freckles or birthmarks, a slightly heavier build, a shorter stature, or a stuttering voice—all of these can be grounds for exclusion and malicious jokes. This is actually a form of bullying, yet parents and schools dismiss it as childish play because the children are so young.

"My hair was fine... but when my breasts started to develop, the shame I felt when people brought it up was hard to describe."

"..."

Secondary sexual characteristics are what we call puberty. Even without understanding biology, during this period, you'll instinctively notice differences between yourself and the opposite sex. Furthermore, the development of certain organs can make many people timid... though I've never experienced this myself.

"So my hatred of going to school finally built up to the point where it exploded in junior high. From that day on, I never wanted to go to school again, and I even didn't want to leave the house at all." She seemed to be recalling her feelings at that time. "Thankfully, my mother understood me and didn't force me to leave the room. Instead, she arranged for me to take a leave of absence from school so that I could do what I wanted. But I found that there was nothing I wanted to do."

"...taking a leave of absence?" That's what caught my attention. If only my parents were so open-minded... ah, well, it suddenly occurred to me that I did take a few days off from school.

"When I had nothing better to do, I'd look through the submissions and outlines on my mother's computer from new writers, or those who'd already completed a work but hadn't released a new one. It was then that I suddenly realized how cruel things are in this world."

"..."

"We're all new writers, but some can write captivating stories right from the start, with a writing style that feels quite comfortable. Meanwhile, some have absolutely no noteworthy qualities at all... We're all working towards the same goal, but there are many geniuses in the world who are gifted from the start."

“..Yeah.” Although he said that, it seemed to have nothing to do with hating school.

"So after comparing them, I feel like I have no reason to escape. Even though I still don't like school, as long as I transfer and don't run into those guys, I can still continue my studies."

"I see." I thought she would decide to become a writer herself - I guess I've read too many novels and comics.

"Then, I'll go find a book to read." She looked at the invitation ticket in her hand and patted my shoulder. "The classroom is right here. The performance will start soon."

"Just in time," I couldn't help but agree, lining up with her to check my ticket. "But you said you like finding books to read. Are you looking for classics or something?"

"No." She shook her head. "Of course I read the works of those who have submitted their works online."

.........

Well, it's magic, after all, so it's understandable that I don't understand how they pull it off. But I didn't feel admiration for them just because I couldn't do it myself. Perhaps it was because there weren't any big scenes like fire-breathing or people-sawing, but I felt that this performance, worth ten yuan per person, was really lackluster. Xiaoye and I briefly paused in conversation due to the need to follow the rules of the show. After about half an hour, we left the small club room with the others.

"Ah... it's really unforgettable." "What's so unforgettable?"

I think the conversation between her and me was like the funny guy and the supporting guy. Then it was the funny guy's turn to talk about how unforgettable it was.

"For example..." "Okay, no need to give examples. I'm watching it too, and I've already made up my mind whether it's good or not." There's no need to spend time dwelling on things like this. "Are there any other places you'd like to visit?"

"Of course, I saw the video game club on my way here." "I bet it's packed." Students only see one thing that grabs their attention: anything unrelated to study. And among these, the thing students talk about with relish, and teachers and parents gnash their teeth on, is gaming—but the real fault isn't entirely gaming, just as Arthas didn't kill his father simply because he picked up Frostmourne. Many things can hinder students' learning. Even if they hold a pen in front of a textbook, if their minds aren't focused on learning, what's left on the page isn't notes, but formatted doodles.

"It's okay, we can wait." "Then let's buy something to eat while we wait."

Using overlapping time to accomplish tasks is something we learned from elementary school word problems. However, most of the time, no one considers this in such detail. In my opinion, it's simply a habit of wasting time.

So after I mentioned it, the only sound coming out of the two people's mouths besides talking was the crunching sound of potato chips being chewed.

"Sure enough, there are quite a few people here." "Of course."

While I could play games on my phone, the atmosphere in the game club reminded me of my childhood in the arcade. So, I wanted to buy a couple of game coins.

That's right, this gaming club actually got an arcade machine from somewhere and brazenly moved it into the club room. You know, it's pretty loud when it's turned on. It's okay for cultural exhibitions, but does the school really monitor them when they're playing normally?

"...Just sit in the hallway and wait." "No problem."

So we squatted in the busy corridor and ate potato chips together.

"Come to think of it, it seems like quite a few people have confessed their love to me." She suddenly said something that I myself had no experience with.

"That's really annoying." Although I hadn't experienced it myself, I could understand it if I put myself in her shoes. It seemed likely that none of the guys who confessed their feelings were drawn to her personality, but rather to the parts of her body that were associated with puberty.

"That's right. Even if I asked them to tell me what they like about me, none of them would be able to answer." She couldn't help but feel a little annoyed when she said this. "Even if they said I'm pretty, it would be fine..."

"I guess he's too shy to respond."

As for adolescence, you can use phrases like "the shyness of adolescence" or "the haziness of adolescence" to brush off any situation. Oh, no wonder so many people praise youth; it turns out it's so convenient.

"Is appearance so important?" "Yeah, I'm pretty good-looking. If I were uglier, you probably wouldn't approach me."

It's hard to tell whether this is self-deprecating or self-deprecating, but the truth is probably like this. Although appearance cannot determine everything, it is not possible without appearance.

"Does that mean you won't talk to me even if I'm ugly?"

"No, you're still beautiful even if you're a little uglier." It's like dropping a little water into ink; you can't see any difference. But this question is really hard to answer.

"...What if I'm really ugly?"

Well, here comes the more difficult question to answer.

"That depends on whether you have an interesting personality. I'm quite drawn to interesting people, and if we can get along, I won't worry too much. People crave conversation." Even if one can tolerate loneliness, even those who truly believe in loneliness will engage in conversation if someone who meets their needs appears nearby. Furthermore, loneliness and solitude are not the same thing.

"Eager to talk..."

As if she had understood what I said, she savored it for a moment before falling silent. I didn't interrupt her thoughts, but continued to watch the shrinking line in front of the game club and put potato chips into my mouth.

......

Whether I'm happy or not, the moment I touched the old, unresponsive waist and buttons, I felt like I was transported back ten years. While I wasn't as innocent back then, games were my biggest reason for staying in this world. Without the various games that pulled me out of the haze of my heart, I wouldn't have any future at all.

It seems like I have a lot to be thankful for. But I probably won't have to thank games one day, because they will be with me for the rest of my life.

"Ah, that feels great."

I still go to the arcade sometimes, but it's never as exciting as it is now. Maybe it's the atmosphere and the selection of games... It seems like the people in this club didn't just form it for gaming.

"Although I was always beaten down, I still thought it was quite fun." Xiaoye was also sighing for some reason.

"..Playing games requires someone with a good mentality like you." Otherwise, the joysticks in the game hall wouldn't break so quickly.

"Are there any other places you want to go? Are you still going to the esports club?"

"No, forget it." She shook her head. "I've played enough games. I'll just spin around."

“..Oh.” I don’t have any objection to this. It’s good enough to be able to save energy.

"Speaking of which, Sheji, how did you first come up with the idea of ​​writing a novel?"

"As for me..." he thought briefly, "I probably just thought I could probably write what others wrote. Besides, I've read a lot since I was little, so I've accumulated a lot of knowledge. So, I imitated others' methods and added my own style... Over time, I ended up writing so much."

"It sounds so casual." She couldn't help but sigh.

"I can't help it...I'm just learning other people's techniques and creating with existing things."

"I think the style is very good, at least it is more impressive than the ones I often see." I always feel that the praise from Xiaoye is not very credible, as if he is tricking me into writing more.

"That means I'm completely out of the mainstream and don't even know the basic rules of creation." Having said that, I still made it this far.

“What do you think of your work?”

"What else can I do...I just relied on luck to become famous." That's why I didn't take it to heart at all.

"If that's all you think, then I have to tell you." She suddenly became serious, which made me feel uneasy.

"Wha...what?"

"There's a reason your work has become famous," she told me seriously. "It's not a fluke, it's destiny. I think it's unique. While it may not necessarily fit the mainstream, it will definitely inject fresh creative energy into our platform."

"...Wait, you mean..."

No, I shouldn't care about this kind of thing at all.

"I've been following your novel for a long time. From the time you started it to the time you abandoned it, it was only three months. But the amount of text, enough to fill a whole volume, and the fascinating content are enough for me to place my bet on you."

"...Bet...bet?" My heart was beating so fast.

It's as if to say that my fame was just a farce arranged by others...and the person who happened to be caught up in it just happened to be me.

"...Although it was just out of selfish motives, I did read the comments and surveyed readers before proposing it to my mother. And your skills are definitely worth it..."

"That's enough, no more..."

I should have thought of this from the beginning. If nothing special had happened, how could I have become famous overnight, and how could such an editor have approached me? It would have never happened in my dreams.

"...You have to believe that you really have that ability..."

"I know...I know."

I just pretended to be calm and looked at her face, but I had no idea what to say next.

Talking about the past

After realizing that everything I have is fake, I find that I still have nothing.

What is real is no longer important to me at this moment. I should have realized long ago that no matter how hard I struggle, what I possess is not my own.

That's fine.

After understanding the situation I'm facing, I can't figure out how to face it. Angry, sad, or happy? I don't know. I can't tell the difference. Whether it's fake or real, it's fine. Anyway, my life goes on, and what needs to be done will eventually go on.

Because I have lost hope for the outcome, it doesn't matter what the ending is.

Chapter 7: Talking about the past

"Shouldn't I tell you this?" She looked very nervous, probably because I had remained silent since I heard that I was artificially chosen to hype the incident.

"I'll know sooner or later anyway, so it's not too late to know now." I finally smiled, just to reassure her. "It seems that I'm not just lucky... I'm so lucky, I can't believe it."

"There's nothing unbelievable about this. You were already very popular to begin with, but you refused to sign the contract..."

"I didn't say I wasn't happy about it." Why did she look so uneasy? Did I look sad? "So, I've accepted it, and things will go on as normal. For example, you can still ask me for manuscripts, and I can write what I want to write... Anyway, no one knows the behind-the-scenes story, so I'll just accept the fact that I'm a popular writer."

None of this comes from the heart. Even if I had the resources to be prominently promoted, I still can't accept the idea of ​​achieving so-called success in this way. I want to avoid this fact, I don't want to write about it anymore... Something that should have been discarded as black history long ago, yet I confidently continued to this extent. Ah, it's ridiculous, unbelievable. How could such a thing happen in the world?

"Sheji? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, just... I'm a little thirsty from eating too many chips. I need something to drink..." I glanced around, trying to escape her concerned gaze. My heart longed for a brief moment of peace. While the amount of information wasn't overwhelming, the impact of this news was significant.

"It's okay, I'll buy it for you. Just wait here and don't run around." She ran away quickly before I could react.

"..what is going on."

My own experience was like that of the protagonist in a novel. Yes, that protagonist had a childhood sweetheart with whom she could talk about anything, and who always told her stories. But the stories she told were plagiarized from existing works. She wanted to be a writer... but she had no talent. And yet, being the protagonist seemed to have an inherent aura, and simply by submitting her work, she was successfully recognized as a talented writer.

"...But he's not a genius."

Despite his talent, the manuscript was initially rejected. It was only because of another person that it was published and garnered widespread acclaim. So, it's not that good things are sought after, but rather that things that are sought after are naturally considered excellent. When an ordinary person is hailed as a genius by many, they truly become geniuses.

Where did this story come from? I kept searching in my chaotic mind, and then I finally remembered the source.

"Literary girl...huh?"

A light novel with a rich literary atmosphere. While the events within it are unlikely to happen in real life, it's still incredibly captivating. And, if only I could live in that world more than once. Surrounded by strange people, encountering bizarre events. Even more enviable, the protagonist has a senior who uses her own work as food. It's almost like the classmate sitting behind me named Haruhi Suzumiya. If that were the case, I might not be so concerned that my achievements weren't entirely due to my own strength.

Is there something I really want to achieve? Otherwise, why would I feel so lost?

It seems to be true. I actually still hope that I can achieve things that others can't...that should be the case, right? But then again, it feels completely different. I don't understand.

"...You don't understand, do you?"

I muttered to myself. This is what the protagonist's childhood sweetheart said to him in a literary girl's novel, before jumping off a rooftop. Surprisingly, she survived... but that's a story for another time. While this character is a bit scary, I don't dislike them—the more peculiar their personality, the more I'm drawn to them. Yandere, tsundere, whatever. Whether their values ​​are correct or not doesn't matter. There's always a shortage of people like this in the world, which is why I want to connect with them.

What exactly do I not understand? Like the protagonist, Xinye, I don't understand anything at all. But to put it another way, who in this world can truly understand anyone else? Even seemingly loving couples often harbor secrets. As long as we don't know, it's fine. As long as we don't know, it doesn't exist, and we can live in peace.