The Monologue of Sae Chabashira

Since I became a teacher, or even before I became a teacher, I have a problem that I can't talk

about with anyone.

That is, I keep having a certain nightmare over and over again.

The events of that day, which I will never forget, will be repeated in my dreams.

The nightmares change form with each visit, sometimes from my point of view, sometimes from

someone else's, sometimes with different conversations and processes.

But there are some things in common that are the same.

It means that no matter how many times the story is repeated, the "ending" is the same.

・・・・・・ At that time, there was nothing for us B class to fear.

Our momentum was overwhelming the other classes, and we were within reach of Class A.

Of course, it was not a smooth road.

By the time I was promoted to the third year, the number of classmates who had left had

increased to six.

Nevertheless, in the third year, no one was missing and we accumulated class points.

I believed that I could graduate with an A class without missing any more students.

Until that day, that time.

It was the end of the third semester, just before the graduation exam, the last chance to turn

things around.

The homeroom teacher appeared with a stiff expression on her face and told us about a new

special exam.

Initially, we had no fear of that special test.

The rules were simple and straightforward, and we had no doubt that we would be able to clear

them without difficulty.

But that optimistic mood lasted until that assignment came up.

The scene switches, and I'm screaming at the class.

My best friend crowded me with an angry look and grabbed me up by the chest.

The class, which had been united as one, collapsed in an instant.

It's okay.

He muttered, his face full of resignation and realisation.

But I couldn't make up my mind.

There was no way I could be prepared for this.

He had been with me for three years, and his presence was no small thing.

An irreplaceable classmate, an irreplaceable best friend.

An irreplaceable, important person of the opposite sex.

He was a bit on the uptight side, but he was serious, kind, and more dependable than anyone

else.

This is a face he has never shown before.

That time when he reached out his hand to me under the evening sky, somewhat shyly.

I fought back the tears that were threatening to come and said, "I'm sorry"

"Thank you for your cooperation. ....." And

The relationship between the two of us will come to an end as soon as it has begun.