Episode 44: In the Corner of a Grey Room
Morning.
The alarm sliced through the silence.
I stepped into the living room.
The floor was cold.
The room, filled with grey light, sat hushed, holding its breath.
I should eat something. But I couldn’t summon the will to make anything. Cereal would do.
I sat down at the chair and poured the milk, mechanically. Brought the spoon to my mouth.
It had no taste at all.
A flicker of an image crossed the edge of my vision.
Yuno, cheeks full of bacon and eggs, sitting across from me. Those big, round eyes, drooping softly. Her mouth moving in small bites. Idle conversation, about nothing.
Right about now — is she having breakfast like this, with Saeko?
“I should be home early today, let’s take it easy tonight.”
“Where should we go this weekend?”
Is Saeko saying things like that to her, smiling?
“…Hh— cough, cough.”
My throat clenched shut.
In the end, even the cereal wouldn’t go down.
I stood without clearing the bowl, and my feet carried me, without purpose, toward the kitchen.
Beside the stove sat a half-used bottle of dashi soy sauce.
Something Yuno used often. For oyakodon, for finishing off simmered dishes — she always left it out, right there.
I opened the fridge, and the ingredients were lined up, neat and orderly.
Probably stocked during a shopping trip before she got sick. Bean sprouts, spinach, carrots.
Looking at the vegetable drawer, everything arranged with such care, my hand stopped.
In the drying rack, a single mug sat turned upside down.
The one Yuno always used for her hot milk.
Completely dry now.
Just that.
Just that small thing.
And my throat clenched, tight, until I could hardly breathe.
＊＊＊
I did my makeup, put on my suit.
Slung my bag over my shoulder.
Everything as usual.
But my feet wouldn’t move.
Standing in front of the door, I couldn’t take that one step.
I had no confidence I could face Saeko.
I’ll manage with remote work.
Today, I’ll stay home.
“Work from home today?”
That coaxing voice, and that expression, surfaced with it.
The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, looking up at me from below.
Stop.
Don’t make me remember.
Without meaning to, I sank down onto the sofa, leaning back against it.
— I thought I could still catch a trace of Yuno’s scent.
Her profile, laughing brightly, both hands wrapped around her hot milk.
That night she stroked my head in my lap, that voice whispered close to my ear.
The warmth of the night we held each other, drawn close, and loved.
The images surfaced, circling, refusing to fade.
Even with my eyes closed, even shaking my head hard, they wouldn’t disappear.
By the time I noticed, I’d bolted up off the sofa.
Everywhere — anywhere I looked in the room — I could feel Yuno.
Unable to do anything, I fled instead to the corner of the room where her presence felt thinnest, hugged my knees, and sat there, blankly.
Every heartbeat ached, like something being scraped away. And still, not even tears would come.
＊＊＊
Nine o’clock. Work had started, regardless.
I picked up my phone. Looking at the pile of notifications, my finger stopped.
Before I knew it, I’d opened my contacts.
Yuno’s name was there.
What would I even send.
An apology? Asking her to come back?
It’s too late for that now.
Everything I said — all of it was a lie.
I never once thought “I dislike her.”
Never once, not even a little, thought “I shouldn’t have picked her up.”
In the end my finger wouldn’t move, and I couldn’t send anything.
That’s enough now.
There won’t be any more contact, from either side, ever again.
Telling myself that, I blocked Yuno’s contact, and deleted it.
I set the phone down on the floor.
Notifications kept piling up, one after another.
Each time the screen lit up, a sound rang out. I couldn’t even bring myself to reach for it.
What is Yuno doing right now.
What is she talking about with Saeko.
Is she laughing, right now.
Is she eating properly.
Has her cold gotten better.
— Stop.
I told myself that, inside.
Don’t think about it. Thinking won’t change anything.
I have to forget.
I have to go back to who I was, before I picked Yuno up.
And still, my mind kept searching for her on its own.
Opening the drawer of memory, looking, opening it again.
I couldn’t stop it.
Yuno.
Yuno.
Yuno.
Just her name kept circling, around and around in my head.
No matter how I called it, no answer came back, from anywhere.
The notification sound rang out again.
Rain struck the window.
I didn’t even have the strength left to check outside.
Just there, in the corner of a room too grey, too large.
The dashi soy sauce beside the stove, the ingredients in the fridge, the mug in the drying rack — all of it, left exactly as it was.
Knees hugged to my chest, only time passed, quietly, by.