In a world where a single glance can condemn you and a kind heart is easily mistaken for a threat, Gouda Takeo has long accepted his fate. Two meters tall and built like a fortress, he's used to the fearful stares, the empty seats, and the children who cry at the sight of him. But when he saves a delicate girl from a molester on a packed train—only to flee before she can even learn his name—Takeo's life is set on a collision course with a misunderstanding of epic proportions.
Because the girl h
My Love Story!! Beyond the Misunderstanding - Gorilla Runs on the Train
Morning rush hour. The train bound for Minatosaka Station was packed so tight with passengers it was like a tin of sardines.
Gouda Takeo stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of it all. Two meters tall, 120 kilos. A short, squared-off buzz cut, small black eyes with double eyelids, a thick gorilla-like face and heavy lips. His Shuei High navy blazer was a custom 4L, and even then it looked ready to burst at the shoulders. Every passenger around him unconsciously leaned away, trying to put even a little distance between themselves and the giant high schooler.
(Again, huh.)
Takeo let out a small sigh inside his head. He was used to it by now. Get on a train, and the seat next to him stays empty. Walk down the street, and people step aside. Kids he passes burst into tears. That was just daily life for a man named Gouda Takeo.
Every time the train pulled into a station, more people poured in. Takeo was gripping a hanging strap, but his hand was so strong the metal handle creaked in protest. The salaryman standing next to him flinched at the sound, shoulders jumping.
(Sorry about that. I'm not trying to scare anyone.)
Apologizing silently, Takeo hunched his shoulders, trying to make himself smaller. But a two-meter body doesn't get smaller.
That was when it happened.
Takeo's sharp 2.0 vision caught sight of a single high school girl at the far end of the car. She wore a Koizumi Girls' Academy uniform. Soft chestnut hair that fell to her shoulders, the ends feathery and light. Big, round brown eyes. Maybe 155 centimeters tall. Small, delicate — a girl like a little bird.
Right behind her stood a man in a suit. His hand was reaching, unnaturally, toward the girl's skirt.
The girl was trembling, twisting her body desperately to get away. But the wall of the packed train blocked her — there was nowhere to run. Her big eyes brimmed with tears about to spill over. She bit her lip, choking back her voice.
The passengers around them all pretended not to see. Some closed their eyes. Some dropped their gazes to their phones. Some stared out the window. Not one person tried to help.
Takeo's body moved first.
Before he could think, his massive frame was already charging toward the end of the car.
"Hey, you!!"
His roar echoed through the car. Takeo plowed through the crowd, charging forward. Passengers screamed and scattered left and right. It was like a giant beast splitting a herd apart.
The molester turned around. His face went pale in an instant.
"W-what, you—"
Before the man could finish, Takeo's huge hand clamped down on his arm. His grip was judo national-tournament level. The man's arm creaked under the pressure.
"Where the hell do you think you're putting that hand?"
Takeo's voice was low, rumbling up from the depths of the earth. His small eyes narrowed with rage, his thick lips tightening. His gorilla face had twisted into something even more terrifying.
"N-no! I was just — I bumped into her, that's all—"
The moment the man tried to make excuses, Takeo grabbed a hanging strap with his other hand. No — more accurately, he crushed it.
Crunch.
The sound of metal and plastic shattering. The strap's handle crumbled to pieces in Takeo's grip. Fragments clattered to the floor.
The car went dead silent.
Every passenger stared at Takeo, dumbfounded. The molester's knees began to shake violently.
"You're getting off at the next station."
Takeo spoke quietly, still gripping the man's arm.
"Y-yes... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."
The man repeated his apologies, half in tears. In the face of Takeo's giant body and monstrous strength, he seemed to have lost even the will to resist.
The train slid into the next station. The moment the doors opened, the man was dragged out onto the platform by Takeo, practically tumbling. A station attendant noticed the commotion and came running. Takeo handed the man over and stepped back into the car.
The doors closed.
The air inside was still tense. Passengers kept stealing glances at Takeo. Looks that were somewhere between respect and fear — impossible to tell which.
Takeo turned toward the girl he'd saved.
She was looking up at him, her face a mess of tears. Big brown drops spilled from her eyes, one after another. Her shoulders trembled in small, quick shudders.
"Th-thank you so much... really, thank you..."
She bowed over and over. Her chestnut hair swayed. Her voice shook.
"Um, your name... may I ask your name...?"
She lifted her face. Her tear-wet eyes looked straight at Takeo.
In that instant, something deep in Takeo's chest gave a great, heavy throb.
(Cute.)
That was what he thought.
And the very next moment, he was already running away.
"Be careful. Next time, ride where there are more people around."
That was all he said before he leaped out onto the platform of the stopped station. He ran. Ran. Ran. His two-meter frame sprinted full speed toward the ticket gate.
(Why'd I run, me?)
He tsukkomi'd himself internally.
(She just asked my name — why the hell did I run? That's so lame.)
But he couldn't help it.
He couldn't look that girl straight in the face.
He knew what he looked like — a gorilla. Up close, he'd just scare her. Right now she was grateful. But if she got a good long look at this face, she'd definitely recoil. Once that thought hit him, running was the only option.
He passed through the ticket gate and came out into the plaza in front of the station. Minatosaka Station sat at the heart of the city, a major transit hub. Beyond the plaza spread the redeveloped district, "Grand Front Minatosaka," lined with new commercial buildings, a cinema complex, and a supermarket. Amid the morning rush of commuters and students, Takeo stood alone, shoulders heaving.
"...Hahh."
A deep sigh.
Three minutes' walk from the station's east exit, the sign for the pastry shop "Patisserie Lumiere" came into view. In its third year of business, it was a popular spot tucked into a corner of the station-front redevelopment. The display case always held twenty-plus kinds of cake, and there were twelve seats for eating in.
(Cake... I feel like cake.)
Cake first thing in the morning? Come on — he tsukkomi'd himself again and started walking toward school.
Shuei High was a private school in the northern hills of Minatosaka City. Founded sixty-eight years ago, about 720 students in all. Its motto: "Sincerity and Wisdom." The route to school ran along a row of cherry trees, and here in April, petals were drifting down all around.
Takeo passed through the school gate and headed for Class 2-3. The classroom was on the second floor, south-facing. A bright room with morning sun streaming in.
"Morning, Gouda."
The one who called out was Kurihara Osamu, his afro-haired friend.
"Yo."
"You're huge again today. Something happen? You've got a scarier face than usual."
"Huh, do I?"
"Yeah. Well — guess that's normal for you."
Kurihara laughed lightly and headed back to his seat.
Takeo sat down at his own desk and gazed out the window. Cherry blossom petals danced in the wind.
(I wonder if that girl's okay.)
The scene from the train wouldn't leave his head. Those small, trembling shoulders. Those eyes full of tears. The way she'd bowed again and again.
(She was cute.)
He thought it again.
(But, whatever.)
Takeo shook his head. Don't think about it. Thinking about it is pointless.
After school, Takeo skipped club and went straight home. The Gouda house sat in a residential neighborhood in northern Minatosaka — a slightly old single-family home. Next door stood the Sunakawa family's newer house.
"I'm home."
"Welcome back, Takeo. You're early today."
His mother, Yuriko, poked her head out from the kitchen. Permed hair, pierced ears — a woman with real guts.
"I'm gonna go over to Suna's for a bit."
"Okay, okay. Be back by dinner."
Takeo dropped his school bag — not a randoseru, his school bag — in his room, then checked the second floor of the house next door from his window. Sunakawa Makoto's window faced his own. The curtains were open. The sign that he was home.
Takeo went outside and slipped through the Sunakawa front door. A path he'd walked thousands of times since childhood. No need to ring the bell.
"Suna—"
He climbed the stairs and opened the door to Makoto's room.
Sunakawa Makoto was sprawled on his bed. Glossy black hair with just the front lightly swept aside — a fresh, clean cut. Long, cool black eyes. A lean 178-centimeter frame. He wore his Shuei High uniform without a single thing out of place, and somehow looked like a picture doing it.
"Knock, at least."
Makoto closed the book in his hand and sat up.
"My bad. But it's me."
"It's because it's you that I'm saying it."
Makoto gave a small laugh. Despite the cool exterior, his expression softened around Takeo. That was the privilege of a friend since age three.
"So, what's up today? Did you go and do something again?"
"How'd you know?"
"It's written all over your face."
Makoto sat on the edge of the bed and crossed his long legs.
Takeo plopped down on the floor and started telling him about the morning. Finding the molester on the train. Charging in yelling. Crushing the strap. The girl asking his name — and him bolting off the train.
Makoto listened in silence. Every so often, his brow twitched in exasperation.
"You caught a molester. That's so you."
"Yeah. That one — my body just moved on its own."
"Crushing the strap was definitely overkill, though."
"Well, I couldn't help it. I was pissed."
"Your anger's usually for a good reason. Especially this time."
Makoto stood, grabbed a water bottle off the desk, and drank.
Takeo hesitated a moment, then spoke.
"But man, that girl was seriously cute..."
Makoto stopped mid-sip and turned around.
"Huh."
"What's with that face?"
"Nothing. It's just rare for you to call a girl cute."
Makoto sat back down on the bed, smiling faintly.
"Maybe the girl you saved will fall for you."
At those words, Takeo shook his head with exaggerated force.
"As if that'd ever happen!"
His voice rose a little.
"She's bound to like a handsome guy like you. That's how it's always been, right?"
He laughed it off, mocking himself. Inside, there was a small, stinging pain. But showing that on his face felt like losing, somehow — so he laughed.
The smile vanished from Makoto's face.
"Do you actually mean that?"
"Mean it or not, it's the truth. Middle school — three times in a row. Every girl I liked confessed to you."
"That's—"
Makoto started to say something, then stopped.
Silence fell over the room.
"Ah, it's fine. I was born under that kind of star. I know it."
Takeo stood and gave Makoto a light pat on the head.
"See you, Suna. I'll be home by dinner."
"...Yeah."
Makoto's reply was short.
Takeo left the room. The sound of the door closing.
Makoto lay back alone on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
(The girls you fall for all end up liking me. That's probably for a different reason than you think.)
Makoto closed his eyes.
(But for now, I won't say it.)
Back at the Gouda house, Takeo took a bath.
His own face reflected in the bathroom mirror. The glass was slightly fogged from the steam. He wiped it with his hand, and there it was — a gorilla's face. Short buzz cut. Heavy features. Thick lips. Small eyes.
"Yep. A gorilla, all right..."
He muttered.
Memories from childhood surfaced through the steam.
Kindergarten. When they played tag, he was always "it." Because he made a good "gorilla monster."
Elementary school field trip. When they took the group photo, the kid next to him said, "No way, I don't wanna be in a picture with Gouda-kun." The teacher, being considerate, had Takeo stand at the very edge.
First year of middle school. The first girl he ever liked. Her name was Sato. A gentle girl with a cute smile. He worked up his courage and talked to her. She smiled back. But on graduation day, the one she confessed to was Makoto.
Second year
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