Episode 45: Am I Not Enough?
More than a week had passed, curled up in the corner of the room.
I’d barely looked at my phone. When hunger struck, I’d shove instant food into my mouth, take a bath, sleep on the floor. That was the whole of it, repeated, flatly, over and over.
At the back of the fridge, the green onions I’d bought for Yuno’s cold had gone limp and wilted.
In the grey-sunk room, only Yuno’s face stayed vivid.
That proud, happy expression, laying out a dish made from some newly invented recipe on the table.
That profile, hugging her knees on the sofa, laughing brightly at the TV.
The weight and sweet scent of her head, settling silently against my shoulder whenever sleep took her.
I’d thought it would fade with time. Instead, with each passing day, “it” only grew more vivid.
What is she doing now.
Yuno’s probably completely absorbed in Saeko by now, having forgotten all about me.
Well — if she’s doing well, that’s enough.
As long as she isn’t alone. As long as she isn’t lonely. That’s enough.
Every time I told myself that, my chest creaked, audibly.
I’d stopped being able to take calls from staff. The company’s decision-making had likely ground to a halt. I knew it, and still couldn’t move.
I pulled the bedsheets out of the dryer.
I’d washed them, again and again, trying to erase every trace of Yuno. And still — no matter how many times I washed them, Yuno’s scent stayed soaked into the fabric, refusing to leave. That soft, sweet smell.
“…Why…”
Slumped in front of the washing machine, a voice that wasn’t quite a voice leaked out of me.
I had no idea how much time had passed after that. By the time I noticed, it had gone dark outside the window. Another day, ending. Without having done anything at all.
That’s when —
Ding-dong.
The intercom rang.
My body reacted on its own. Maybe — that hope coiled, swirling, deep in my chest.
With shaking hands I checked the intercom screen, and there was Matsuyama Maho, half in tears.
The moment I opened the front door, tears spilled from Matsuyama’s eyes. Her mouth trembled, and then——
“President!! I’m so glad you’re alive!!!”
She threw herself at me, full force, and hugged me.
＊＊＊
I showed Matsuyama in and made coffee.
She sat down on the sofa, hands folded together on her lap, and looked up at me, hesitant.
Her expression held the look of someone unsure where to begin, mixed with the urgency of someone who felt she had to say something regardless.
“…Are you… alright…?”
“…Sorry. I was just a little under the weather.”
“That’s not the face of ‘a little.’”
Matsuyama’s brows drew together, and her eyes dropped back to her lap.
“You weren’t answering anything at all… everyone’s been so worried. Saeko-san, Saruwatari-san, Inukai-san, all of them…”
Hearing Saeko’s name, I couldn’t help frowning.
A short pause, then Matsuyama looked up at me, glancing slightly from below, hesitant.
“But… I’m really, truly glad you’re alive, President.”
Her voice trembled, just slightly.
“…Can I ask what happened?”
Eyes down, I told her everything, up to now.
That I’d kept Yuno locked away the whole time.
That Saeko had come while I was out, and I’d seen the two of them embracing.
That I’d completely lost all confidence in myself, spat lies at Yuno, and driven her out.
The words came out in pieces, slow. Matsuyama listened, solemn, hands wrapped around her coffee cup. Several times she opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again. She repeated that several times over.
Eventually she took a sip of coffee and spoke, quiet.
“President… is that really alright with you?”
“Alright…?”
“Never telling her how you felt…”
“It’s fine now. That girl went back where she belongs. That’s all there is to it.”
I said it, spitting the words out, and tried to stand.
But my legs wouldn’t hold.
Maybe from not eating properly for over a week. Or maybe for some other reason.
My body swayed, unsteady.
“President—!”
I sensed Matsuyama rising in a hurry, and before I knew it, both her arms were holding me up. A hesitant pressure settling at my shoulder and waist.
Not quite an embrace — more like she was carefully bracing me to keep me from collapsing.
“…I’m fine. Just got a little dizzy.”
“You’re not fine. I can’t stand to watch you like this, President.”
Matsuyama’s voice was lower than usual.
For a while, neither of us moved. Matsuyama didn’t let go either.
In the quiet room, only the sound of the rain echoed.
“President.”
A small voice, close to my ear.
“Are you planning to stay like this… forever?”
I couldn’t answer anything.
“Are you going to keep dragging around Yuno-san’s shadow, like this, forever?”
Matsuyama’s arms seemed to tighten, just slightly, around me.
Again, no words would come.
After another pause, she went on.
“What if it were me——”
“…Eh?”
Then, eyes lowered — hesitant, but with a voice that held something certain underneath it, she said:
“…Would I not be enough?”