'Sorry girl'

I tugged on my school skirt several times and stood in front of the lift, anticipating the glass door to open and for me to get home as soon as possible to rip it out of my sight.

A voice whose language I could recognise but couldn't quite decipher rang in my right ear, and two girls emerged from the small staircase. One of them with bangs rushed forward, almost knocking me over, and pressed the steel button continuously.

I flipped open the pink file in my arm and looked at the notes meant for a test tomorrow, "... that Prime Minister Hamaguchi had betrayed the country, they seriously wounded him in a failed assassinatio-"

"sorry girl," the girl with bangs apologized. Instinctively, I smiled back, despite the annoyance of being called a girl and not being able to pass due to the stupid skirt.

We then entered the lift, and in my ears were the same voices chattering about god knows what, but I was able to make out two english words as they laughed, "sorry girl."


Upon entering the station, I quickened my footsteps as they scrapped against the smooth floor like sandpaper, and as usual I found a neat seat inviting me to occupy it.
I continued engaging myself in the notes about how the military in the past gained control over Japan, and reciting it painfully from memory, while enjoying myself over the breeze of the air conditioner. There was nothing much to do except to study, so I was determined to put in more effort as usual.

A while later, the same girl sat on the ground, while another friend sat on the seat in front of her, beside me. I was surprised; no sane citizen would want to sit on the ground in public. In fact, no one would dare sit on the ground due to the watchful eyes of cynical onlookers.

All of a sudden, she looked at me and called out, "hey girl!"
This time, I noticed more than just the bangs; her coal black eyes spelt innocence, her smile genuine and complete seemingly with childish teases.

I could've bitten my lip and cursed the school rules for wearing a uniform, but I found nothing but amusement within my emotions, and a little touch of happiness.


What was seen in my eyes were a white figure of bravery. A small, blue flame of hope.
She, who talked to me, who smiled at me despite my undesirable appearance. She, who did not judge her surroundings, who had not fallen into society's dark hours.

She who said "sorry girl", her pure mind filled with glory and hope that could be extinguished within the ink of betrayal and irritation in this seemingly colorful city of walking dead.