Episode 40: I Wonder If Something Would Have Changed, If I’d Said It
It had been almost two months since Yuno quit her part-time job.
One afternoon.
I’d just wrapped up an online business meeting and stepped out to the office smoking area for a cigarette.
Rattle, rattle, rattle.
The sliding door opened, and Saeko came in, pouch in hand.
“Hey, good work.”
Saeko gave a soft laugh, lit her cigarette, and let the smoke curl up slowly.
She drew it in deep, then let it out, long and quiet.
Her profile looked, somehow, tired. Or maybe down.
“That girl.”
At Saeko’s words, my heart gave one hard beat.
“…Eh?”
“The one I used to live with. We ran into each other at the building… I told you about her, that time we had drinks.”
“…Ah.”
“I wonder if she quit. Haven’t seen her around lately at all.”
“…Not sure, maybe she did.”
How transparently false. I disliked myself for it.
Saeko tilted her face up slightly and let out a stream of smoke.
“Yeah, probably. And right after we finally ran into each other, too…”
I couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t even properly look at Saeko’s face — just smoked, breathed it out, repeated the motion, flat and mechanical.
Deep in my chest, guilt swelled, slow and steady.
“You know, I probably never managed to tell her ‘I like you.’ Why couldn’t I say it, I wonder.”
“…………”
“If I’d said it, I wonder if something would have changed.”
Saeko let out a small, self-mocking laugh and tapped the ash from her cigarette, quiet.
“I’m pathetic, huh. I really was an idiot.”
“…Saeko, you have a girlfriend, don’t you. You need to treasure her properly.”
My chest stung.
It sounded like the right thing to say. It wasn’t right at all. I just wanted Saeko to stay away from Yuno. Wanted to make sure their feelings never found their way back to each other. That alone, wrapped in the skin of something reasonable, dressed up as my own self-interest.
“Yeah… you’re right.”
Saeko smiled, somehow gentle in the eyes, and pressed her cigarette butt into the tray.
“Well, I’m off to my client visits.” She turned on her heel and left the smoking room.
Left alone, I let out a slow stream of smoke.
Saeko’s words were still echoing in my head.
— I probably never managed to tell her ‘I like you.’
I haven’t said it either.
Not once, to Yuno. I’ve kissed her, held her, made her quit her job, told her I’d support her. Done all of that, and never once put it into words.
— Why couldn’t I say it, I wonder.
Saeko’s line kept repeating.
Why can’t I say “I like you” to Yuno.
Because I’m afraid of getting in too deep?
Because my pride is in the way?
Asking myself the same question, over and over, I dropped the cigarette butt and left the smoking room.
＊＊＊
“Welcome home~”
When I got home, Yuno had come right up to the door to meet me.
Looking up at me, cheeks faintly flushed. The corner of her mouth lifted, happy.
That expression was so dear to me, I pulled her into a tight hug, without thinking.
Her soft body carried a faint, gradual heat.
“Hehe, what’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
We stayed like that for a while, holding each other, until Yuno gently pulled away.
“I’ll get dinner started.”
And then —
As she turned toward the kitchen, Yuno’s feet wavered, unsteady.
Thud.
She collapsed straight down onto the floor.
“Eh— Yuno!?”
I rushed to her side. Her eyes were narrowed, breathing rough and laboured. Her face was clearly more flushed than before, her lips dry and cracked.
I pressed a hand to her forehead, and it was shockingly hot. Like it might burn my palm.
“…That’s a serious fever.”
I glanced at the wall clock — still six in the evening. There should still be a clinic open somewhere.
I scooped Yuno up in my arms, hurrying, and carried her out to the car.