Otherworldly Commentator: All I Wanted Was to Watch Commentary Videos in Another World, But I Ended Up With Broadcasting Gear!

I last had something called a friend back in the first year of junior high, if my memory serves me correctly.

Though to be precise, since I was already a loner in elementary school, that first year of junior high was the ‘only’ time I had a friend.

Because of my parents’ job transfer, I moved to an unfamiliar place after graduating from elementary school. Somehow, that change prevented me from being labeled a loner in my new school, and I barely fit in with my class.

I’ve forgotten their names, but I was close with two boys, and we always acted as a trio.

They must have thought something about me, always eagerly joining conversations only when it was about games or anime.

At least they never treated me poorly.

—Until that incident.

It was an unusually bright after-school sunset.

All the other classmates, trying to enjoy their freedom from parents and teachers, left the classroom, except for us three.

We didn’t have a purpose, just lazily floating in aimless conversation.

When we got bored of that, we spontaneously stood up from our desks and started play-fighting, like sumo wrestlers.

It seemed like an endless, unchanging, yet happy time.

I just watched them and laughed.

Then, with a loud crash, our smiles vanished.

A friend, who lost his balance during the playful scuffle, crashed into the window behind him and shattered it.

It was a frail and swift occurrence, over in the blink of an eye.

The two in front of me discussed what to do, whether to apologize to the teacher.

To us, at that time, breaking a window seemed like the end of the world, though it was just a pane of glass.

We didn’t want to be scolded by the teacher.

We could apologize, honestly, but that would mean getting in trouble.

But ignoring it and pretending to be someone else seemed morally wrong.

What should we do? What can we do? Their voices echoed in my head as if amplified by a microphone.

And watching them, I…

The next day, the teacher brought the two to the morning homeroom and bowed to the classmates.

No one blamed them; they laughed it off as “those guys causing trouble again.”

But I, sitting in my seat, couldn’t laugh.

Regret for abandoning my friends and running away cracked my heart.

At the same time, a crack formed in our friendship.

From that day, they stopped talking to me.

I couldn’t speak to them either.

After a while, I stopped going to school.

While shutting in my room, I immersed myself in reading and hobbies, living as if I had forgotten everything.

In hindsight, anything would have been fine.

I should have said I’d apologize to them.

Ethically, it’s questionable, but staying silent together might have eventually made it all disappear.

Just doing something instead of looking the other way and running away would have been enough.