The female student who was supposedly molested by Renya has been caught. Apparently, she and her friends had been doing it for fun. I don’t care what the reason was, but when I heard about it, my blood boiled.
(Renya hadn’t done it after all! But how could she have said something like that!)
It turned out to be a false accusation, so many people were apologizing to Renya. Everyone in the soccer club had also apologized to him and tried to convince him to come back to the club, but he had refused, saying that he had blanks and wanted to concentrate on studying for exams.
Renya had accepted the apology and didn’t seem to be angry, but that was all. If someone spoke to him, he would respond normally, but his expression would never change, and he would never speak to anyone himself. He treats everyone the same way. Even to us, his childhood friends. It was as if we were strangers.
The day I found out the truth, I came to Renya’s room and apologized. I would have done anything if I could have been forgiven, if I could have gotten back to the way things were before. I didn’t care if he beat me, and if he demanded my body, I was willing to give it to him.
My apology was readily accepted. But that was it. He didn’t ask for anything, and he didn’t laugh at me like he used to. I thought he was angry with me for what I had done, but I was wrong. He just didn’t have any emotions towards me. No matter how many times I apologized, it didn’t change the attitude of Renya, who has already forgiven me and doesn’t have any emotions on top of that. I apologized, forgave me, and that was the end of it. Even if I wanted to go back to the way things used to be, it wouldn’t be possible unless Renya became the way he used to be. My words can’t reach the heart of Renya, who has started to treat strangers, classmates, childhood friends, family members, and everyone else the same way.
Even when I invite Renya, who is reading all the time just as he does when he is isolated, to play with me, his expression doesn’t change one bit. On the contrary, he refuses when there is a book he wants to read. For Renya, my childhood friend who I have known for more than ten years has become a stranger who is no more than a book he wants to read.
I didn’t want our relationship to end like this, so I asked Renya’s mother about the school he wanted to go to, and I followed him along with another female childhood friend of mine. (The other male childhood friend was not academically qualified)
When I overheard him talking with his classmates about soccer, I was hoping that things would go back to the way they used to be, but no.
“I miss you, Renya…”
Today, too, my voice could not reach Renya.