The Romantic Comedy Didn't Matter
I first met that girl in kindergarten.
Right after my reincarnation.
Even though I had been a high school student, I was now a little child, and the sense of disconnect was overwhelming. Because of that gap—because I was still eighteen inside, forced to think and move through a child's world—I had no friends.
I pushed them away, and the other kids never came near. Letting them in would have felt like denying the eighteen years I had already lived.
Looking back now, that was probably the most childish thing I could have done.
Seven years without a single friend. Then, on the day I transferred kindergartens because of family circumstances, I saw her.
That silver-haired girl.
She was radiant.
Cute and beautiful didn't even begin to cover it. She seemed to shine brighter than anyone else.
Long silver hair cascading down like a fall of snow. Clear blue eyes framed by long lashes. Features that were both adorable and beautiful, all in perfect harmony. She looked as if she didn't quite fit in with the children around her, yet her expression said she couldn't care less.
It felt like watching a pure white snowflake land on a pitch-black canvas.
The girl sat alone, drawing a picture.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. She was the first brilliant light I had seen in this new life, and without realizing it, my gaze locked onto her.
At the same time, one thought rose in my mind.
I want to know her.
I wanted to know. It was curiosity—curiosity about something that shone so brightly. In this new life filled with nothing but confusion, it was the first time my heart had truly raced with any real will of its own.
At least... that was how I saw it back then.
Seven-year-old me walked up to seven-year-old her.
"What's your name?"
I think that was the start of us being together.