He thought that was because no one else wanted to take on that burden other than Yamauchi, but that didn’t seem to be the case. The reason no one a.s.sociated with Tatsumi wasn’t because he was a burden—or because they had to go out of their way for someone visually impaired, but because they didn’t want to be seen by Yamauchi. That’s how it seemed anyway.
“Is that so? Please don’t worry about that sort of thing.”
It doesn’t bother me, Tatsumi added, to which the three of them responded impressed.
“&h.e.l.lip;&h.e.l.lip;you’re pretty pa.s.sive, aren’t you, Konno-san?”
They must have come expecting the worst. Tatsumi smiled wryly at Ichikawa’s doubtful voice. If he had a pa.s.sive personality, he wouldn’t have let Kusamakura’s rejection to his invitation bother him so much. The problem wasn’t that big of a deal to Tatsumi at all.
“&h.e.l.lip;&h.e.l.lip;since I don’t like to rely on other people’s a.s.sistance, and don’t want to be a burden to others, I’m just glad you care.”
“What is this guy, an enlightened monk?”
“It’s nothing that pure.”
Tatsumi waved his hand as he smiled bitterly at his coworker’s overstatement.
“So, as a new employee, I didn’t really care about what the princess said, or defying her, it’s not like she’s a manager or anything, so I ignored her and tried becoming a candidate to a.s.sist you, Konno-san.”