Chapter 165: Fitting In

Those who cared about my feelings could be counted on one hand; most treated me like air, completely ignoring my existence.

When I realized this cruel truth, I hadn’t yet become friends with Gu Fan. That was when I was still in the first or second grade of elementary school.

Because my mother was busy with work—often having to go out for social engagements even after clocking out—I was boarded in a shared dormitory near the school.

Though I was young, I had already shown a solitary nature. I kept a certain distance from both my classmates and the slightly older students sharing the dormitory.

During lunch breaks, I would go alone to the school’s shabby old canteen to get a bowl of mediocre multigrain porridge. Being cautious by nature, I didn’t dare to venture to the newly built canteen with its richer menu.

Without any outside intervention to correct me, young as I was, I behaved like an emotionless machine, rigidly cycling between dormitory, canteen, and classroom.

Maybe I was cute as a child—though I think it was more likely because I was so small—that some teachers, seeing me walking to and from school all alone, would consider my feelings and accompany me for a meal or walk.

However… such kind-hearted teachers were few. Most, like my mother, were busy adults scrambling to earn a living, with no intention to bother with a difficult child like me.

Besides, I didn’t want teachers to get too close. If it were classmates my own age, I could at least chat about childish topics or make an excuse to slip away.

But if it was an adult, it was hard to refuse. What if they got angry and hit me? I was so small and fragile; I’d probably get hurt badly. So I reluctantly ate lunch or dinner with them.

In those moments, I always felt constrained, chewing on fried noodles I once thought delicious but now tasted like nothing, my cheek muscles stiff and sore.

In a way, before meeting Gu Fan, I preferred living alone. I didn’t want anyone to disturb me.

A cold-blooded loser like me simply couldn’t care about others’ feelings, constantly trying to guess their thoughts and act accordingly—it was exhausting and often led to wrong judgments that made things awkward.

Someone who can’t respect others doesn’t deserve friends. Forced relationships only hurt both parties. I didn’t want to fall into such twisted bonds. I just wished for quiet, unchanging days.

Even though I tried to avoid contact, a group of bullies with a taste for mischief set their sights on me.

I don’t know when I caught their attention. By the time I realized I was being bullied, my body was already covered with bruises and wounds, and I was sobbing dazedly in the school’s wooded corner.

I hated those bullies’ actions, but I was also grateful that their cruelty gave me the chance to meet Gu Fan, who was wandering the school grounds…

I sat on a bench inside the abandoned church, tilting my head back to gaze at the broken skylight above.

Today’s weather was gloomy, with no sun. The clouds drifting across the skylight were iron gray, thick and layered, seeming ready to collapse and crush me, making it hard to breathe.

This kind of dreary weather always made me feel dizzy and lethargic, wanting to curl up somewhere warm and sleep deeply.

I can’t say whether I used to feel this way before, but after becoming a catgirl, my thought patterns shifted subtly in many ways.

My messy thoughts fluttered wildly in my mind, with a strong sense of melancholy at the core.

Gu Fan was not by my side.

I took off my shoes and crossed my legs clad in black tights. I had wiped the dust off the bench with a wet wipe beforehand. Since becoming a catgirl, one big change was how much paper I used every day, so my small backpack was stuffed with various feminine supplies.

Returning to the church after a long time, I realized that whenever I went out formally, it was either accompanying my mother to buy food or discuss business, or wandering around with Gu Fan. Rarely did I travel alone.

I took a deep breath, lamenting that I wasn’t as suited for living alone as I thought. At least for now, Gu Fan’s absence left a hollow feeling in my heart that was hard to bear.

I had thought about abandoning everything and stepping forward on my own.

When I did that, I truly felt the freedom that had accompanied me in the past.

But soon, a swarm of challenges flew at me like locusts—problems only solvable through social interaction, which I struggled to handle alone.

In middle school, trying to adapt to life without Gu Fan, I forced myself to pay attention to my facial expressions and keep a smile on my face.

At the same time, I carefully listened to everyone around me to find who the social butterflies and clique leaders were. I hoped that by actively associating with them, I could easily make friends and gain support in all aspects of life.

Gradually, some people began inviting me to eat at the canteen or the Snack Street outside of school.

But… these friendships I forced myself to make didn’t bring me joy. Though life became more fulfilling and convenient, my heart often felt thickly stifled, and my emotions seemed to stall, leaving only a perfunctory smile.

Back then, I felt like I had become my mother. When she took me to business banquets or dinners, I noticed how often she had to adjust where her face was pointed. The unfamiliar middle-aged men said things I couldn’t understand, and my mother had to tidy up her expression to respond appropriately.

Even I, as the child being brought along, had to try saying playful things under my mother’s cue to engage warmly with those men.

But those words, no matter if they came from my mouth, were never my true feelings.

After conforming like that, I would anxiously clench my fingers. The more people I knew, the more I felt invisible barriers forming around me.

Those so-called friends hid within the crowd. If I wasn’t careful with my words and actions, strange rumors would spread after a few days.

Even if I didn’t feel all eyes on me, I still felt trapped, losing all escape routes. Being among ‘friends’ felt like being dragged along against my will, which was unbearable.

As these thoughts crossed my mind, I involuntarily let out a heavy sigh, only then realizing I had been holding my breath for quite some time.