An Adult's Advice
My life had nothing to do with women. The extent of my interactions with them might have been the girls in my elementary school class. But just like any boy back then, the only feelings I had toward those girls were mischievous pranks, and in that way, I squandered the one chance to build a friendship with the only woman who remained in my life even after I became an adult.
All-boys middle school, all-boys high school, and an engineering department where the gender ratio was practically extinct... Even after puberty awakened my sexuality and I became a vigorous adult full of youthful energy, loneliness always lingered in my heart. Whenever I heard stories of friends dating someone, I felt a fresh envy sprouting within me.
But in a society where the competition to find a partner was so fierce, I couldn't afford to chase after romance. Without any real opportunity in that cutthroat world, I focused solely on landing a job, and in the end, all that remained was a workaholic who lived and died for his career.
People around me would say about a guy like that, Isn't your life going to feel empty? Even my parents, who had only ever pushed me toward academics and success, started feeling anxious and urged me to get married. But for someone like me, who had spent most of his life keeping women at a distance, it didn't really matter.
I'll just live like this and die when the time comes. That was the vague thought I harbored as I went through the motions. Then, one day, she appeared like a beam of light, illuminating my gray world.
"H-Hello, it's nice to meet you. I'm the one from the client company who contacted you..."
She was a new hire at the client firm. Her demeanor seemed so precarious, unaccustomed as she was to the working world. After that, we crossed paths often for business, and before I knew it, I found myself helping her out from time to time.
At first, it was purely professional. But as time passed, those interactions turned into a connection, and soon we were exchanging personal messages.
"My parents have been nagging me lately. When are you going to get married? Do you even have anyone...?"
"Same here. Since we're in the same boat, how about we give dating a try?"
"R-Really? Is that okay?"
Becoming a couple happened so naturally. Once we officially started dating, we went to many places together, confirming each other's feelings along the way and nurturing our affection—or so I thought.
And in the midst of it all, I realized something: having a lover made my heart race like nothing else. Every little thing she did was endearing, and whenever she expressed her love for me, I felt an indescribable joy, as if I could float away, even without any material reward. Day by day, I fell deeper, so when she was struggling, I reached out without hesitation.
"I got a severance package from the company. Things aren't going well there..."
"Don't worry. I'll take care of it somehow. Just trust me and follow my lead."
I loved her. My feelings were undeniably love, and because of that, I wanted to give her everything. Even when my paycheck wasn't bad, I spoiled her endlessly, dressing her up and whispering to her at every moment: I love you. Stay with me forever as my lifelong partner... I believed without a doubt that those feelings would bear fruit someday.
"Let's break up."
Maybe that's why her sudden words hit me like a thunderbolt.
"Why? Things were good between us."
"That's just what you think. Did you really believe I'd fall for you just because of some gifts? That I'm some cheap girl?"
I only wanted her to be free of sadness. I thought that if she felt material abundance, she wouldn't worry about the future and would express her love for me. I believed that was enough.
It was enough for her—the woman who had given me my first intense love—to simply stay by my side.
"Sorry, but let's end this. I've already found someone better than you."
But she had already turned her heart away from me, and by her side was another man—not me. And they'd been together behind my back. In an instant, the love I held for her twisted into betrayal.
"Oh, and don't be pathetic and ask for all the stuff I got back, okay? That would be so lame."
Yes, I hate her. I resented her for shattering the first sense of purpose in my life and the future it promised. But a corner of my heart still held affection for her, so to suppress that hatred, I drowned my emotions in alcohol that day.
But no matter how much I tried to bury it, the fire wouldn't die. Like how liquor fuels flames, my resentment toward her only grew, etching itself into my mind even as I drowned in that river. And when I began my second life, those emotions continued to dictate my heart.
I hate her. I can never forgive her. But in this child's body, revenge was impossible, so I could only wait out the time endlessly. And as those years passed, they brought me a cold clarity. Before long, I was deeply reflecting on the moment she betrayed me.
There had been signs. That her affection for me was cooling. But up until then, things had been good between us. I believed her shy whispers were genuine, but could even those have been an act? Or maybe not an act, but a change of heart.
Didn't she say it herself? That she wasn't some cheap girl who would fall for mere gifts. Maybe my actions—thinking material comfort was enough—burdened her, or made her feel belittled.
As that possibility dawned on me, my hatred for her slowly turned into self-loathing.
I know. Overall, it was her fault. But that's just from my perspective. From hers, it might look different. Even if it's a slim chance, considering that possibility filled my heart not just with hate, but self-doubt too.
No matter how much I tried to cling to resentment, a nagging suspicion lingered in my heart...
After years of this, one conclusion settled in my mind.
It's because I loved that I was betrayed.
Whether she betrayed me or I betrayed her, liking someone inherently involves weighing each other's hearts. It's a fragile bond that shatters the moment the balance tips.
If maintained perfectly, happiness awaits—but having failed at first love, I lacked the skill to keep it steady. No matter how hard I tried, I feared betrayal. And I worried my efforts might hurt her...
Yes, so it was only natural I'd reach this conclusion. If I never love in the first place, no one gets hurt. The verdict of a coward with no drive left to even try.
"...That's the gist of it."
After loosely dramatizing the story up to that conclusion and sharing it, she—who had listened quietly—refilled my empty glass and posed a question.
"So, it's the tale of a man who suffered heartbreak from his first love—the first romance of his life—and met a tragic end in an accident."
"As I said, it's not my story."
"Right, it couldn't be, since you're no longer of this world."
"But for some reason, it didn't feel like someone else's story. The protagonist's situation..."
She'd surely take my words as truth. She might question if I was getting too immersed in a stranger's tale, but such doubts meant nothing to me. Whether it was from a past life or a story detached from me now, what mattered was that I'd gained wounds and insights from those memories, etching them deep into my heart.
"In short, you got so wrapped up in that story that you're now afraid to form bonds with anyone?"
"...Is that hard to understand?"
"No, I get it. Love really does hurt people a lot, after all."
Maia tilted her glass, taking a sip as she spoke. Her eyes held a subtle bitterness, as if the story struck close to home.
"My husband and I had our mismatches too. It was a strategic marriage for business expansion, so there was no affection at first."
"...Not that it's my place, but is it okay to say that so openly?"
"Hehe, what can you do? It's the truth. And whatever it was like before, now we're all lovey-dovey~"
True, when I first saw them, their relationship didn't seem bad at all. And that was surely thanks to the fruit of their union at the center of it.
"It started unwanted, but we gained our one and only treasure from it. So precious, someone I want to protect... That's why I hope she'll be happier than anyone from now on."
Yes, their once-awkward bond had mended because of that child. Hearing this, I realized my conclusion wasn't entirely right—but as just one of countless human experiences, it wasn't the absolute truth either.
No one could guarantee that someone burned by love's betrayal, like me, dreaming of a marriage like theirs wouldn't achieve the same result. So, it was too soon for me to change my mind...
"Anyway, that woman was way too much~"
Was there something to deny in the story now? As she drank and grew tipsy, she shared her thoughts on it.
"Dumping the guy who stood by her when she lost her job like an old rag? Even if she had reasons, that's no conscience at all."
"True, but maybe the guy had faults too."
"Gifts overwhelming her, making her feel cheap... Sounds plausible. But listening to this, a few possibilities come to mind."
"Possibilities?"
"The woman who dumped the protagonist—did she maybe have family debts?"
Debts. Come to think of it, she'd mentioned family troubles often. I'd wired her large sums a few times, so Maia's guess wasn't far off.
"If there were debts, the picture clears up. Family falling apart, job gone—she panics and reaches out to this guy, that guy. When cornered, you grasp at any hand to put out the fire."
"So, dating multiple men for support to save her family?"
"Could be. And fooling around like that, she realizes: Huh? I'm pretty popular. Maybe I'm an amazing woman after all?"
A burst of laughter escaped me. And as her confident smile formed, certainty dawned.
"Young women are like that. More dating experience, and they overvalue their chastity, getting arrogant. It started to pay off debts, but all that love from men makes her think, I deserve someone better than this nobody."
Her words, as if she'd met many such women, hit me like a blow to the back of the head. Like answering the doubts I'd harbored alone, she pinpointed possibilities I'd never considered.
"Well, it's hearsay, so I can't say it's the truth. But assuming the story's real, she had her own circumstances—selfish, self-justifying ones she'd accept."
Self-rationalization and the arrogance of youth. Having sized up my ex like that, she gave a wry smile and met my gaze steadily.
And she said,
"And if that's true, then the man had no fault at all."
I had no fault. The way I'd doubted myself wasn't wrong.
"No... fault?"
"Sure, inexperienced in love, he was clumsy. Made mistakes that burdened her. But his heart was pure love, and she never once refused it, right?"
Yes, she never refused my gifts. Her one-sided exploitation wasn't from disappointment—it was just using me. Sucking me dry, then discarding me when done... All justified in her self-rationalizing mind.
"Exactly. The man did nothing wrong. Heartbreak hurts, but no need to torment yourself over it."
It wasn't my fault. Just bad luck with the first one. No need to cling to the past or fear pursuing happiness with someone new.
"...Really."
Even with her opinion, the wound in my heart wouldn't heal, and a voice laced with doubt slipped out.
"Really... do you think so?"
Could someone like me, ruined from first love, truly love again without hurting each other?
"Hard to say for sure. I'm an outsider to the story too."
As she stood and approached, arms open wide, she pulled me into a hug and whispered,
"But you're still so young. Too young to base your whole worldview on someone else's tale... Wouldn't it be a shame to let one story dictate the rest of your life?"
As an adult, a mother to one child, and now to me as her own—her advice.
"So, keep listening, keep pondering, keep seeking answers. A boy wandering in puberty is perfectly natural."
Her view—that my inexperience caused this wandering, so I needed more experiences—lit one path for me.
"I hope... you're right."
The wound from my past life still lingered unhealed. But if it was just one of many human truths, it was too soon to let it dictate my future. That was the conclusion.