At the prestigious private elementary school, 000, the ancient buildings and beautiful gardens spoke of its storied history. The brick structures, despite the passage of time, retained their elegance. In the schoolyard stood centuries-old cherry trees, their delicate pink petals dancing in the spring breeze, exuding a quiet beauty.

The blue sky and warm sunlight streamed through the classroom windows, brightening the entire school. Children’s laughter echoed from the playground, peaceful and cheerful.

Yet, Yota’s heart was a stark contrast to this bright scenery.

Yota walked alone down the dark hallway. His steps were heavy, his face etched with deep sadness and fatigue. He moved along, feeling the cold walls, looking like a prisoner confined in a cell. His eyes had lost their vitality, and his gloomy face was shrouded in shadows of despair.

Yota’s inner world was submerged in endless darkness of hopelessness.

The old wooden floor of the hallway creaked with each step, and ancient paintings hung on the walls. These paintings boasted of a glamorous past, but to Yota, they were just relics of a distant era. The dim lighting barely managed to chase away the shadows.

Other children whispered as they watched Yota pass by.

“That’s Yota, isn’t it? He looks so weird…”

“I heard he got bullied again?”

“How can a kid like that go to this school?”

“Haha… don’t say things like that, it’s sad…”

To Yota, these whispers felt like daggers stabbing into his chest. Deep inside, loneliness and pain swirled. He lowered his head and quickened his pace toward the restroom, with no hope left in his heart.

Entering the restroom, Yota locked the door behind him. The tiles were spotless, the mirror clear. The restroom was impeccably clean, with a fresh scent lingering in the air.

Yota sat down on the toilet and pulled out a small book from his pocket. It was a book on economics, business management, mathematics, and archaeology—something more suited to a college student. He sighed deeply and began to read, but the words didn’t register. The loneliness and pain in his heart weighed heavily on him.

Silent tears streamed down Yota’s cheeks, falling onto the book. His hands trembled, and his body felt the chill of the floor, causing him to curl up even more. His tears flowed slowly and ceaselessly. How long had he cried? Eventually, his mind started to calm. He seemed to have grown accustomed to such situations. However, this familiarity only drove him deeper into despair.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Suddenly, he laughed maniacally. The sound echoed off the restroom walls.

“If I can endure a little longer… I’ll grow up and make them crawl at my feet… hahaha!!!”

Tears still filled Yota’s eyes as he laughed. It was a mix of despair and anger, his voice shaking, eyes gleaming with a sharp light.

“I have a dream. One day, I’ll succeed with my meticulous business plan, gain power, and make them crawl at my feet!!! Just a little longer… no matter how hard it is… then my parents will come to see me…”

A serious, sorrowful expression appeared on Yota’s face. His hands shook, and tears wouldn’t stop. He closed the book and lifted his head. Tears streamed down his cheeks. The overwhelming loneliness and sadness from deep within him could no longer be contained.

Suddenly, cold water poured down on Yota from above. His clothes were drenched, and so was his book. Outside, he heard the mocking voices of other children.

“Hey, wasn’t that a bit too much?”

“Haha… we have to do at least this much… haha.”

Yota trembled as he stood up. He took his wet clothes and book and left the restroom. As he walked down the hallway, he had no time to dry off. Water dripped from his clothes. The children in the hallway reacted in various ways. To Yota, it seemed like everyone was laughing at him or avoiding his gaze. His face was pale, and his lips trembled.

Back in the classroom, Yota changed into the spare clothes he had brought. As he carefully dried his wet book, his heart grew even heavier. The classroom was silent, with darkness slowly creeping in. When the end-of-day announcements were over, the other children went home. Yota, too, prepared to leave, but strangely, he didn’t want to go home.

“Even if I go home… no one’s there… I’ve been alone since I was born… always… alone… but I’m not sad anymore… then why… can’t I stop crying…?”

A sad expression appeared on Yota’s face. His voice trembled, and his eyes were still filled with tears. Instead of going home, he decided to read. Yota sat at his desk and opened a book. It was a high-level book on business, economics, and mathematics, far beyond his age. He read intently, as if it were easy.

After a while, he finished reading and reached for the archaeology book. Yota seemed especially focused on the archaeology book. Studying archaeology was his hobby. He lost track of time as he read.

The last page of the archaeology book turned. Yota concentrated on the final part. The book contained an excerpt from an ancient text, the last part of an ancient literary work. This portion wasn’t a modern translation but a photograph of the original manuscript.

“This part makes no sense… it’s the first time I can’t understand something in a book… maybe because the ancient text is old and torn, missing parts?”

Yota kept rereading the same section. “I just can’t understand… but why… why are the tears flowing so much…?” He was filled with questions.

Tears rolled down Yota’s face. The overwhelming loneliness and sadness from deep within could no longer be contained. He looked up at the window. Under the darkening sky, the moonlight dimly shone.

The last part of the ancient text was magnified. It read:

“In the end, I am alone……(torn).”