Episode 23: That Was, Probably
That night.
Sitting across from each other at the table, eating dinner.
Yuno seemed somehow distant, her eyes unfocused. No light in them, chopsticks moving mechanically.
Bringing food to her mouth, chewing in small movements, reaching for the next bite. Just that, repeated, again and again.
“Yuno.”
No answer.
“Yuno?”
“Hm?”
She looked up with a startled blink, eyes opening wide, blinking several times. Those eyes found my face at last.
“You seemed somewhere else.”
“…Huh?… Oh, maybe. I’m probably just a bit sleepy.”
A loose, easy laugh.
After that, Yuno talked for a while about her part-time job. Her supervisor’s pet phrases. A scary moment during a night shift. Her voice was bright, she even threw in gestures as she spoke.
Her face was smiling, yes.
But the depth of her eyes was not.
These were meant to be funny stories, yet every time she finished one, her gaze drifted quietly somewhere far away. The phrase putting on a brave face floated through my mind.
＊＊＊
After my bath, I came out to find Yuno leaning against the sofa, sitting with a cushion hugged to her knees.
I settled a little way off with my coffee and stole a glance at her profile.
Her eyes were turned toward the TV, but the gaze was hollow, passing straight through the screen. A faint crease between her brows.
Different from dinner. Maybe she’d run out of the energy to keep the brave face up.
Then, unbidden, the sofa scene from the other night came to mind.
Being pressed gently down into it, lips meeting, deepening slowly —
My body ached. Grew warm.
Was my body expecting more of that? Anticipating a continuation?
What am I doing.
My head said that, and yet I found my body already being drawn toward Yuno.
The closer I got, the louder my heartbeat grew. Yuno’s warmth just there. Her breath within reach.
Lean.
I rested my head against Yuno’s shoulder.
After a while.
“…Ahah. Cute.”
A hand settled softly on top of my head.
Gently, gently, it moved through my hair. Just that, and something deep in my body ached warmly.
What next, my body held its breath.
My heartbeat quickened.
— But.
Slowly, the hand stopped.
Yuno quietly returned her hand to her lap and let out a small breath.
“…Big sis, I’m sorry. I’m not feeling great today. Can I… borrow the bed?”
“…Hm?… Of course…”
“Sorry.”
Without turning around, she rose slowly to her feet.
Until her back disappeared into the bedroom, I couldn’t move from the sofa.
＊＊＊
The next morning, Yuno was herself again.
“Maybe because I slept so well last night? I feel so much better!”
She narrowed her eyes and grinned, wide and bright. Her cheeks were a healthy pink, her voice had energy back in it.
Last night felt like it had never happened.
She’d just been exhausted from the unfamiliar night shifts going on and on. I needed to make sure she slept properly in the bed.
That was what I thought.
＊＊＊
The president’s office, afternoon.
The sky through the window was a flat, heavy grey, at odds with yesterday’s clear spring blue.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Excuse me.”
“Yes.”
Click.
Matsuyama came in, glancing cautiously around the room as she entered.
Since the incident the other day, she’d apparently become significantly more careful about opening the president’s office door.
She set the coffee on the desk with a quiet clink and turned to go.
“Thank you, Matsuyama.”
“Not at all.”
A few steps toward the door, and she stopped.
“Um, President…”
“What?”
She was quiet for a moment, then turned back toward me.
“About Yuno-san…”
“Hm?”
Matsuyama’s eyes dropped, and she turned her body back toward the door.
“No, actually… never mind. Sorry to disturb you.”
I’d caught her hand before I knew it. Snap.
Hearing Yuno’s name had made me do it, reflexively.
“Yuno what?… What’s going on?”
Matsuyama looked down at the hand holding hers, her face going steadily red.
“P-please let go…”
“Sorry. But — Yuno what?”
Matsuyama, face still turned away, said it quietly.
“…It might be better not to talk about it here.”
Something went cold inside my chest.
“What do you mean…?”
“Are you free this evening?”
＊＊＊
After work, I went with Matsuyama to an izakaya near the station.
I poured us beer, ate the appetiser in silence, watched the bubbles disappear at the bottom of the glass, deliberated over how to begin — and in the end asked directly.
“…So. What’s this about Yuno?”
Matsuyama put her glass to her lips. One sip, eyes dropping to the table, a small pause.
She still seemed to be going back and forth over whether to say it.
I waited without speaking. The noise of the izakaya felt strangely far away.
At last, Matsuyama slowly opened her mouth.
“About Yuno-san and Saeko-san——”
“…Eh?”
A small, involuntary sound escaped me.
— End of Chapter Three —