"I failed again... I'm really useless."
Mira whispered softly. In the corner of the club room, she sat with her head down.
Hiyori approached. "Mira, what happened?"
"The presentation didn't go well. I caused trouble for everyone."
Sora observed with interest. "But you prepared so much, didn't you?"
Mira nodded. "But results are everything. No matter how hard I try, I never succeed."
Hiyori sat quietly. "Mira, there's a voice speaking inside you."
"A voice?"
"A voice that blames yourself. In psychology, it's called the 'inner critic.'"
Sora opened their notebook. "Inner critic?"
"It's the voice in your mind that harshly evaluates you," Hiyori explained.
Mira looked surprised. "Does everyone have one?"
"Yes. To varying degrees, many people do."
Sora thought. "But criticizing yourself isn't bad, right? Reflection is important."
"Sharp observation," Hiyori smiled. "Self-criticism and self-reflection are different."
"How are they different?"
"Self-reflection is objectively examining yourself. Constructive thinking like 'This aspect was lacking. Next time I'll do this.' "
Mira asked. "And self-criticism?"
"It's general, absolute negation like 'I'm useless' or 'I always fail.' In cognitive therapy, it's considered a type of 'cognitive distortion.'"
Sora took notes. "It's not specific, it negates your entire character."
"Yes. That's the problem," Hiyori continued. "It negates not the action, but your very existence."
Mira said quietly. "But this voice protects me somehow."
Hiyori's expression became serious. "What do you mean?"
"If I blame myself before failing, when others blame me, it doesn't hurt as much."
Sora had a realization. "It's a defense mechanism?"
"It might be," Hiyori answered. "By preemptively criticizing yourself, you try to soften criticism from others."
"But," Sora objected, "that means you're always hurting yourself, right?"
Mira looked down. Hiyori said gently, "Sora is right. Preventive self-criticism leads to chronic low self-esteem."
"Then what should I do?" Mira asked.
Hiyori thought. "First, recognize that voice. Just noticing 'Ah, the inner critic is speaking now' creates distance."
"Separate the voice from myself?"
"Yes. The voice is part of you, but not all of you. Maintaining yourself as an observer is important."
Sora experimentally suggested. "What if you give that voice a name?"
Hiyori's eyes lit up. "Interesting approach. In cognitive behavioral therapy, there are techniques to externalize thoughts."
Mira laughed a little. "Critic-kun, or something?"
"That might work," Hiyori smiled. "Personifying the voice makes it easier to view objectively."
Sora proposed further. "What about arguing back with that voice?"
"A self-compassion approach," Hiyori acknowledged. "In response to 'I'm useless,' you reply 'This time didn't go well, but that doesn't determine my worth.'"
Mira tried it. "But isn't that being too easy on myself?"
"Criticism and compassion are different," Hiyori explained. "When a friend fails, what would you say to them?"
"'It's okay' or 'You'll do better next time'..."
"Right. But why can't you say that to yourself?"
Mira fell silent.
Sora said quietly. "You only apply strict standards to yourself."
"That's a double standard," Hiyori nodded. "This is also one of the cognitive distortions."
Mira began writing in her notebook. She listed "Critic-kun's words" and "Words to a friend" in two columns.
"Good," Hiyori encouraged. "By comparing, you'll see the irrationality of self-criticism."
Sora read. "'You're worthless' versus 'You tried hard'... they're completely different."
Mira pondered. "But if I stop self-criticism, won't I stop growing?"
"That's a misconception," Hiyori answered. "Research shows self-compassion leads to better long-term growth than self-criticism."
"Why?"
"Self-criticism creates fear and avoidance. But self-acceptance creates safety and courage to challenge yourself."
Sora summarized. "Being too scared to act versus accepting failure and moving forward leads to more growth."
"Exactly," Hiyori smiled.
Mira said slowly. "Can I become friends with Critic-kun?"
"That's a good goal," Hiyori encouraged. "Not completely eliminating it, but hearing the voice without being dominated by it. That's balance."
Sora suggested. "When you hear Critic-kun's voice, try saying 'Thanks for your opinion. But I'm okay now.'"
Mira showed a genuine smile for the first time. "I'll try it."
Outside the window, the sunset illuminated the club room. The dialogue with the inner voice would continue. But gradually, it might become gentler.
"The voice that blames yourself is a protector born from past experiences," Hiyori said finally. "But as an adult now, you can nurture a new, kinder voice."
Mira nodded. Facing self-criticism, she took one step forward today.