“Pretty professional, huh?” Kawahara-san said from beside me. “Obviously, I invited you here because I wanted to get you involved with the students, but honestly, it was mostly because I wanted you to see what we’ve built up over the past five years.”
I looked at the bashful look on her face. Sure enough, either this was a trick, or she was a genius.
Finally, the appointed start time arrived, and though it seemed that some of the participants were still not present, we went ahead and began forming groups with the students. For the first groups, the professionals were sorted out based on the students’ prospective industries, so Kawahara-san and I were separated. Just before we parted, she threatened me with a, “If you bully any of my kouhai, I’ll kick you again.”
I was urged to sit in a chair placed in the middle of a circle with a number of students seated around me. They all gave me a loud, hearty greeting of, “Thank you for coming!” which I replied to with another awkward smile.
“First period will now begin. If you have any questions, please ask one of the circulating members. Have fun, everyone.”
Regardless of how nervous the glimmering gazes pointed my way made me, we were given the signal to begin. The students once again greeted me in unison. I felt like I had suddenly been appointed teacher or something.
“Good morning. I’m Tabata Kaede. Pleased to meet you all.” I decided to start off with some small talk. “This is my first time participating in this conference, so I’m actually pretty nervous. I hope I can ask you all to please be gentle with me. Um, well…I was invited here today by Kawahara Risa, who was the group representative as a senior two years ago.”
Unable to say anything particularly interesting in front of this attentive group of students, I decided to just launch into an explanation of the work I did. I explained about our company, our duties, our primary clients, and the benefits—the sort of things that one would speak about at a job fair.
My clumsiness was somewhat inevitable; I had never listened that closely during my time as a student. I should have pinched more techniques from those speakers back then. Of course, if you told my student self that one day I would be the professional, standing up there talking to students, he would have never believed you.
The students gave me their undivided attention, faces serious. Once I was finished talking about my work, it was time for some Q&A. As I fielded questions about the job-hunting process and making connections, wondering what I would do if I was faced with an actually difficult question, one of the students, who happened to be wearing a name tag, raised their hand. I remembered reading about this in the pamphlets—the ones wearing name tags were members of the group.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what were some good experiences you had during your time as a student, things that you learned a lot from, if any?”
That was their question. It was probably a question from the manual.
The word “growth” was proudly emblazoned as one of the key principles by which this group operated, so that was surely what they were interested in hearing about. Good experiences, things I had learned a lot from—one thing immediately came to mind. But having no idea how much use it would be for them to hear about it, I immediately dismissed the thought.
But then…I reconsidered it.
Maybe it was fine if it was no use to these kids. It was fine to learn about things that you had no actual use for. Then, you could make choices that would actually benefit you.
I looked one time across the whole group and then began to speak.
“Well, I wouldn’t call it good, but there was one experience that I learned quite a bit from.”
I took a slightly deeper breath than usual.
“I hurt someone important to me and came to regret it.” I could feel the air within the circle growing heavier. The weight of the air seemed to match the tone of my voice.
“When I was a student, I hurt a very dear friend, and I completely destroyed something that she had valued.”
One baby-faced girl, probably a freshman student, stiffened.
“By the time I came to regret it, it was too late, and there was no way to undo the damage.” I carefully chose the words that would best get my message across. “And it wasn’t as though I hated this person. On the contrary, I held her in such high esteem that when I saw her going down what I thought to be the wrong path, I decided it was my job to correct her behavior. What happened was the result of my own selfish actions. There might even be some of you here who have gone through a similar experience yourself.”
One boy nodded weakly.
“Even now, I still regret it. This might sound arrogant of me, but I’m glad that I was able to acknowledge that regret. The regret of causing that hurt is still rooted within me and makes me strive to be as honest with other people as I can. It makes me think about sincerity.”
Even though I had no idea if that was yet something that I had achieved.
“Realizing that I hoped to never again do something like that, to never again harm the people that I hold dear, was the experience from my time as a student that has had the greatest influence on me, both in terms of my professional and my everyday life. I still strive, a little more each day, to be a safe haven for others. To be someone who would never harm those special people—which might sound a little awkward to hear, but that’s the truth.”
Somehow, I had managed to tie things back to my opening words.
Now that I was speaking about it, for the first time something occurred to me. Perhaps giving this talk was the reason I had come here. The reason for all the time that had passed since then.
I gauged the students’ reactions, wondering if I should prompt them for the next question, when I looked up.
Then, our eyes met.
My eyes met hers.
The whole time I had assumed it was one of the group members who had been circling the room, but when I saw her out of the corner of my eye, standing there behind the students, watching, there was no doubt.
Our eyes met, and I stopped breathing.
She nodded once, hesitantly. Her eyes still on mine, her lips parted once and then closed. Kawahara-san had told me that she hadn’t planned on attending. Standing there in her suit, she just stared at me.
“Tabata-san, are you all right?” the group member who was sitting in the circle asked me, and time began to move again. I quickly apologized with a, “Sorry,” then concluded, “I hope that answer was sufficient?”
By the time I looked up, she was already gone. I thought she might have just been an illusion, some convenient illusion born from my own scars.
Finally, the first period came to an end, and I gave the suitable farewells as I stood. I had to look for her, just in case. There was nothing I had in mind that I would do if she was there, but still…I had to try.
I searched desperately through the announcement of a break period. Surprisingly, I found her quite easily. I spotted her from behind, heading alone for the cafeteria exit. Before I realized it, I was already stepping towards her.
It was fine if she was an illusion. There was nothing that I hoped to do, nothing that I could do. And yet, my legs moved.
I only started considering what to do after I started after her. Finally, I found myself outside, looking all around. She was walking down the boulevard. I saw her shoes crunch down on the fallen leaves on the ground.
She was no illusion.
There were no obstacles between me and her slender back. If I hurried, I would be close enough to tap her on the shoulder.
We had only known each other for a few short months, but the one I knew I was supposed to be standing beside was right there.
I thought about calling out to her, but I was halted by an overwhelming fear.
Every action you take has a chance of making someone else unhappy.
I didn’t want to be hurt. I was afraid.
…And yet.
I want to see you again. I want nothing more than to see you again.
Maybe now, you would accept me, with all my mistakes and all my weaknesses. Me, someone so different from you. It’s because of you that I became the person I am today. You made the lies that I told a reality.
My pace quickened, and I caught up, just behind her. Obviously, I was afraid. I was still me, after all.
She might just ignore me. She might even reject me.
But that was fine.
She could ignore me. She could reject me.
If that happens, I just need to get hurt again.