Episode 20: The Aftertaste of a Kiss Is Just Too Convenient.
For a moment, time stopped.
My head went completely blank.
The sweet aftertaste of chocolate.
Faintly mixed in, the smell of alcohol.
Only that combined sensation stayed burned into my brain with strange clarity.
And on my lips, the lingering softness of Makina.
Had it been an instant? Or something longer than that?
Even I couldn’t say.
Finally, Makina’s lips pulled away.
“Ehe… Yotsuka, you’re cute.”
There was a pause before time started moving again.
Makina smiled, satisfied, and then swayed, unsteady.
“Wh— Makina?! Hey!”
I caught her instinctively as she started to fall, and by then her eyes were already half-closed.
A sweet warmth spread from her head as it dropped, plop, onto my shoulder.
“Sleepy…”
“H-hold on, wait, right now, right now…”
My brain couldn’t keep up.
My heart was pounding hard against the back of my ribs, so loud I couldn’t breathe properly.
I got kissed, didn’t I.
Just now. By Makina.
By the Makina I love.
Like a dream.
For one brief second, I genuinely thought that.
But.
Something about it was different from my usual “like.”
The “like” I’d had until now had always fit neatly into everyday life somehow.
The smile I saw every day. Her gentle warmth.
It was a clean, safe kind of feeling, almost like how you’d feel about an idol you admire from a distance.
And yet, this hot sensation still lingering on my lips suddenly tore that “like” away, made it raw and real.
A bare, exposed girl’s body heat — the kind that makes you want to touch more, the kind that leaves you flustered at being touched.
I really do want Makina. For real.
And yet, right behind that joy, something cold catches up.
Deep in my head, another, ice-cold voice locks me back inside “myself.”
Do you really think you deserve to be happy?
Do you really think you deserve to end up with Makina?
You already know, don’t you?
Because you—
◇◆◇◆◇
The next morning, the smell of miso soup drifting from the kitchen, morning sunlight slipping through the gap in the curtains — an ordinary morning, arriving right on schedule as always.
Walking into the living room, Makina’s already at the table.
“Oh, morning, Yotsuka.”
Her usual voice. Her usual smile.
And yet, I can’t bring myself to look straight at her face — my gaze wanders uncertainly along the edge of the table.
“…Yeah. Morning.”
Somehow unable to meet her eyes, I sit down in my usual chair.
Yesterday comes rushing back all at once.
What am I supposed to say?
How do I even bring it u—
“Sorry, I guess I fell asleep until late last night…! You carried me home from school, right? Thank you.”
Not a trace of guilt on her face. Not a trace of embarrassment.
Oh.
“Mm~? It’s fine, it’s fine. Wasn’t a big deal.”
My voice comes out a little too high.
I see… she doesn’t remember.
That’s genuinely a relief.
That was just an accident. Something that happened because of the alcohol — a mistake that didn’t even leave a mark on Makina’s memory.
Good. This means things can go back to how they were.
We can go back to the same ordinary days as always.
“Was dinner okay yesterday? You had…”
“I just grabbed something quick! I’m fine!”
“O-oh, okay… breakfast’s ready, go ahead and eat.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
We sit side by side, same as always.
But today, for some reason, I shift my seat over, just slightly.
Just enough distance that our shoulders won’t touch.
It’s not that I’m avoiding her, exactly.
It’s just that I can’t quite manage our usual distance anymore.
No, I mustn’t manage it.
Right.
I’d been pretending not to see it.
I don’t have the right. Not to any of this.
◇◆◇◆◇
“Yotsuka, want to work on this decoration together?”
After school, in the classroom, Makina calls out to me, still holding the ribbon she bought that day, working on the interior.
“Oh, yeah, sure.”
No real reason to refuse, so I sit down next to her.
Just one chair’s width further apart than usual.
This much distance should be fine.
We can become sisters.
“Yotsuka, something’s off. Not feeling well?”
Makina stops her scissors and peers at my face.
Her beautiful eyes reflect me straight on.
“N-no, it’s nothing…! Really, nothing.”
Flustered, I look away, pretending to retie the ribbon in my hands.
So I don’t fall for her.
So I don’t want Makina any more than I already do.
“Really? Don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”
Makina looks puzzled but doesn’t press further.
Smiling as always, she goes back to the decorations.
The hand tying the ribbon she handed me won’t stop shaking.
I need to tie it neatly, but my trembling fingers keep letting it slip loose, unreliable.
Just like the boundary line we called “childhood friends” — which came undone so easily, so simply, just yesterday.