Hirunaka no Ryuusei - Vol. 7 Ch. 47
- Thread starter MangaDex
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it's alright baby come here. let me tuck you to bed and make you hot chocolate and read you bedtime stories. you deserve better anyway
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When I first read it I was like 18-19 and I was furious 'why they are not honest with their feelings??' 'why is it so hard for him to fuck them all and be with her??'.
After reading it again now that I'm 24, I understand his point of view. I also understand his feelings. He is an adult, a teacher, a protector. He is not allowed to "love" her this way. And it makes me so sad. I find him such a tragic character because he must be responsible and draw a line even tho he loves her. He cherish her so much that he puts him feelings aside just for her own good.
Aahh man I really get depressed reading this. My heart clenches so much for sensei
After reading it again now that I'm 24, I understand his point of view. I also understand his feelings. He is an adult, a teacher, a protector. He is not allowed to "love" her this way. And it makes me so sad. I find him such a tragic character because he must be responsible and draw a line even tho he loves her. He cherish her so much that he puts him feelings aside just for her own good.
Aahh man I really get depressed reading this. My heart clenches so much for sensei
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So naturally, he hadn’t seen this coming – that this time, he would be the one to walk away. Even so, he understood his position as a teacher, and he understood his position as her uncle's friend.he was also her guardian.
Teacher. Guardian. Not a lover. The guilt made it difficult to breathe… but he couldn’t take advantage of her like this. She had her whole youth ahead of her, whereas he was tied down with all the responsibilities of an adult. He couldn’t drag her down with him.
Every time he ignored her gaze, answered her tonelessly, or passed her in the hallways without a glance, he felt like screaming at her:
—I’m doing this for you.You have to understand. I’m doing this for you. I’m a dirty guy, and I don’t want your ruin on my hands. This was never up to me. I do miss you. I do love you. And I’m sorry—
As if she could hear him. As if she had reason to trust him.
He took another long drag from his cigarette. He didn’t know how soon he’d be forgotten. After all, she was a headstrong, spirited girl. And he knew that the other guy was stealing her away, little by little. He saw it in the ever-changing way she looked at that boy. Each glance they shared stung like a papercut, slowly nicking away whatever hope he had left — that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late. But she wasn’t one to hopelessly carry on. He knew it.
Then again, sometimes he would notice her out of the corner of his eye at moments she believed no one was looking. Those were the only moments she allowed her easygoing smile to drop. She appeared downcast, lost, and unsure of herself. Often, she would stare unfocusedly at the sky, maybe looking at the past, maybe hoping for another daytime shooting star. A corner of his lips raised despite himself, vindictively glad that he was the one to have left her with those scratches
Teacher. Guardian. Not a lover. The guilt made it difficult to breathe… but he couldn’t take advantage of her like this. She had her whole youth ahead of her, whereas he was tied down with all the responsibilities of an adult. He couldn’t drag her down with him.
Every time he ignored her gaze, answered her tonelessly, or passed her in the hallways without a glance, he felt like screaming at her:
—I’m doing this for you.You have to understand. I’m doing this for you. I’m a dirty guy, and I don’t want your ruin on my hands. This was never up to me. I do miss you. I do love you. And I’m sorry—
As if she could hear him. As if she had reason to trust him.
He took another long drag from his cigarette. He didn’t know how soon he’d be forgotten. After all, she was a headstrong, spirited girl. And he knew that the other guy was stealing her away, little by little. He saw it in the ever-changing way she looked at that boy. Each glance they shared stung like a papercut, slowly nicking away whatever hope he had left — that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late. But she wasn’t one to hopelessly carry on. He knew it.
Then again, sometimes he would notice her out of the corner of his eye at moments she believed no one was looking. Those were the only moments she allowed her easygoing smile to drop. She appeared downcast, lost, and unsure of herself. Often, she would stare unfocusedly at the sky, maybe looking at the past, maybe hoping for another daytime shooting star. A corner of his lips raised despite himself, vindictively glad that he was the one to have left her with those scratches
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I understand his motives but it's still hurt. Akh.
