Episode 35: I want to see you, Nana. I want to hear your voice. I’m lonely. Just one word is fine, please reply.

“Washing machine, right? Fridge, right? Then microwave, rice cooker and… Haa, I hope I haven’t forgotten any electrical appliances… Is there anything else we need?”

“Erm… I don’t know. What could we possibly need?”

“What’s wrong with you, looking so distracted? Honestly, this child worries me. Shouldn’t we have chosen a university within the prefecture after all?”

“It’s fine, I’ll manage somehow… Everyone else is doing it, so I can too.”

Under the bright LED lights of the electrical shop, I opened and closed the gleaming lid of the brand-new washing machine, letting my mother’s words wash over me as I went through the motions.

　Over a month had passed since that day. February was drawing to a close.

I’d been accepted into the private university in Tokyo I’d originally aimed for with surprising ease, sealing my future path.

My long-dreamt-of new life in the city was just around the corner.
Yet why did my heart feel so unmoved? I wasn’t excited at all. I was going through the motions of preparing for enrolment and my new life as if it were someone else’s business.

　I hated this suffocating town where you weren’t even allowed to exist unless you blended in ‘normally’.
I wanted to get to a place where I could live openly as my true self.

I wanted to meet someone. I wanted to talk to someone. A girl who liked girls, just like me.
Because I wanted to believe I wasn’t the only one feeling this struggle to live.
　I truly believed that if I went to the city, met a girl who liked girls, and fell in love, I could turn this sad first love into a memory.

But now—.

“Next is bedding. Come on, Nana, let’s hurry.”

“…Right.”

I stared at my mother’s back walking ahead of me, trailing behind.
Without even knowing if this ending was for the best, time passed relentlessly.

　Since then, Mitsuki had sent me messages repeatedly.

At first, it was “I want to talk, even if it’s just on the phone.”
But I only replied, “Sorry, I need to study,” and without listening to Mitsuki’s words, I flung my phone onto the bed.

After the entrance exams ended, I didn’t go to school, so days simply passed without me seeing Mitsuki’s face.

　Even then, undeterred, Mitsuki kept sending messages over and over.
After I kept ignoring them, perhaps realising I had no intention of discussing this matter further with her, clever Mitsuki quickly changed her approach.
From then on, messages about everyday trivialities, or about Tasuku, or photos, started arriving one-sidedly, even if I didn’t reply.

　Whether this stemmed from genuine feelings for me or was purely calculated, I couldn’t tell. Having no desire to unravel the truth at this late stage, I ended up merely skimming the messages without replying.

‘I want to see you, Nana. I want to hear your voice. I’m lonely. Just one word is enough, please reply.’

Occasionally, such heart-wrenching messages would arrive in the dead of night.
　Mornings after seeing such messages felt like my heart was being twisted and crushed.

Hey, Mitsuki.
Have you ever sent Yamato similar messages saying you want to see him?
The carefree smile of Yamato, whom I didn’t even want to remember, flickered in my mind, and jealousy threatened to make my head explode.

Yamato. I wish you were just a hopeless piece of trash of a man.

He seems like a complete idiot, yet he’s such a thoroughly decent bloke that it makes me hate him to death.
The fact that I’m seriously entertaining such petty resentment feels like having the ugliness of my own heart starkly thrust back at me. I felt a little down, wondering if I’d always been this unpleasant.

　The only time I ever sent Mitsuki a message was after learning I’d passed the entrance exam for my chosen university.
I felt nothing. Yet in that moment, I knew our paths had finally and definitively diverged. I’d chosen this outcome myself, yet somehow I couldn’t bring myself to genuinely rejoice at the word ‘Passed’ displayed on my PC monitor.

　After learning of my own acceptance, I felt I had to contact Mitsuki first.

At first, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tear apart the thin thread connecting Mitsuki and me, the one I’d pulled towards me myself.

I sent just one message to the chat screen filled only with messages from Mitsuki: “Got into uni.” It was read immediately, but there was no reply from Mitsuki.

　And since then, the messages from Mitsuki stopped abruptly, as if the taut thread had suddenly snapped.

＊＊＊

I don’t know if it’s true, but I once read in some magazine that the probability of a first love blossoming into marriage is about 1%.

　Whether one in a hundred is considered high or low probably varies by person, but then, what would the probability be if it were with someone of the same sex? Setting aside the fact that same-sex marriage isn’t even an option…

It must be an astronomically low probability. After all, in the countryside, it’s difficult enough just to find someone of the same sex who could be a romantic prospect.

　Thinking about it now, I feel rather embarrassed at how childish I was, how I’d almost started believing in that miracle-like possibility of less than 1%, realising just how much my head was in the clouds.

What on earth was I expecting?

Heartbreak is something everyone experiences at least once in their long life. In fact, it’s rather fortunate it was a minor wound. I still have room to recover. I can keep walking forward.

　Even though I’d gambled my entire life to stay by Mitsuki’s side, the wound was shallow compared to being brutally rejected and discarded like a rag by her. So, this was for the best.

Even as I repeated these excuses to myself, trying to justify it all, the real me screamed at me from inside the closet I’d locked so securely once more, her voice so loud it felt like my throat would split.

――You coward, running away and hurting Mitsuki just because you didn’t want to get hurt yourself. You know it’s true, don’t you?

I can’t lie to myself, and I won’t forgive myself.

　I should have stopped, but before sleep, I always thought only of Mitsuki. No matter how hard I tried to banish her from my mind, it was futile.

Sometimes I’d wake in the night to find my pillow soaked through with tears.
I didn’t want to know what dreams I’d been having, but I knew they were terribly sad.
I often lay awake, unable to sleep, until morning came.

　I hated myself for constantly checking my phone for messages from Mitsuki, even though I was the one who pushed her away.
Even now, I still haven’t been able to throw away that small white box I never gave her on Christmas Day. Even though I can never give it to her now.

Mitsuki. Mitsuki. Mitsuki.

All I can picture in my mind is her innocent smile.
Her soft voice calling me ‘Nana’. Her sweet scent. The strength and warmth of her arms holding me.

I can’t forget a single thing.
I hate myself so much for being this pathetic. At this rate, I’ll just end up hating myself more and more.
How can I forget? I want to be freed from this agony already. I pushed her away to achieve that, yet here I am, clinging on with such pathetic lingering feelings – it’s utterly ridiculous and absurd.

　My days passed like a tedious paper theatre show. Having slipped back into this colourless world, I found myself eighteen years old, an adult, without any preparation whatsoever. Yet nothing changed. Even as the number increased, I remained just me.

March. The season of farewells finally arrived. I spent every day snivelling, and before I knew it, graduation day was upon me.