Having Reincarnated a Million Times I Won’t Let My Guard Down Even in a Peaceful World

62: Her Story

It was on a certain day, maybe in the summer, when a girl named Margit, two years younger than me, started working part-time. It seemed like she knew who I was.

Since we attended the same school, I reluctantly accepted that I was somewhat of a celebrity there, and I assumed that was the reason.

But it turned out that wasn’t the case.

“I often hear about you from Senior Milim.”

Margit said with a sour expression for some reason.

She always seemed to be in a bad mood. Not in a way that was apparent to everyone, but specifically towards me. I believe I must be doing something unconsciously. People can’t always be aware of their own actions, so it’s only natural to consider that possibility.

Her facial features had a lingering childlike quality, and she was short, so she received a lot of attention from the adults around her.

I wanted to receive attention too, but our relationship was far from good.

From noble mtl dot com

Whenever it was break time, she would somehow get involved with me—in a way, it couldn’t be helped since there weren’t multiple places for breaks and we naturally ended up alone in a small space.

“I don’t think Rex-san is… good.”

Let’s listen.

I’m the type who always seeks advice for self-improvement. A person can’t fully understand themselves on their own. I’ve always kept an advisor by my side.

“Senior Milim… is a person with few words, but very cool. That’s…”

Although I was supposed to be talking about how I’m not good enough, Margit kept talking only about Milim.

I was able to hear many “stories about Milim that I didn’t know.” Such as being outstanding in sports, being caring towards underclassmen, and having excellent grades.

Listening to Margit’s stories, I felt like certain points were connecting—it reminded me of what Milim mentioned before, that “a girl confessed to me.” Could it be that the person she was talking about was Margit?

Of course, it’s not like I would confirm something like that with the person herself.

Anyway, Margit, despite looking displeased, continued to talk about Milim, and I was able to keep hearing fresh information about her.

Towards the end of break time, I asked her to talk more about Milim.

Margit seemed unhappy, but she didn’t refuse—well, there wouldn’t be anything else to talk about when our break times coincided, and she probably thought it would happen naturally.

Before leaving the break room, I sent a message to Milim.

“So you were good at sports, huh?”

“Ah, yeah”

Milim’s face, which seemed somehow joyful despite lacking emojis and stamps, floated in my mind.

I thought I’d treasure our conversations with Margit from now on.