Sleeping Beauty and the Drunkard. Part Three

I rose slowly from the bed.
I couldn’t take it anymore. There was only one way to deal with this restlessness.
To Shigure-san, who was still dazed, I declared.

“I’m going for a run outside.”

“Eh?”

Shigure-san’s eyes widened.

“I reckon running about five kilometres should clear my head.”

“Eh, right now?”

“Right now.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”

Shigure-san grabbed my sleeve. She spoke frantically, flustered.

“It’s freezing outside, you know? You’ll catch a cold!”

“Fine. That’ll actually make me feel clearer.”

“N-no, you can’t. It’s night already, you might get attacked by some weirdo, it’s dangerous!”

“I’m on the brink of becoming one of those strange people myself. Don’t stop me.”

“No. You mustn’t go.”

Shigure-san squeezed my sleeve tightly, her eyes glistening as she said,

“Stay here. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be lonely. Don’t leave me all alone.”

“…G-giiii…”

　A sound like crushing a hard insect escaped her. Amazing. So that’s what teeth grinding sounds like. I never knew. Hope she didn’t chip a molar.

“Let’s sleep together. The futon’s warm. Come on?”

“…………No way. I’m too worked up, I’ll throw up.”

“Does your tummy hurt?”

She hasn’t a clue. This drunk.
　Haaah, I exhaled a damp sigh and looked down at Shigure-san.
The strap of her camisole had slipped off, revealing her cream-yellow bra. The line of her collarbone, extending from her round, petite shoulders, was blindingly dazzling.
I fantasised about the softness of the curves beneath, the springy resistance against my fingertips, and Shigure-san’s reaction when she gasped aloud.
　I contemplated how beautiful and lewd it all was.
The air conditioner hummed loudly, an irritating noise.
After a moment, I resolved to abandon my pride and dignity.
Pointing at the wall, I said.

“Shigure-san, face the wall. Absolutely don’t look this way.”

“Eh?”

“If you look this way, I’ll resent you forever. I’ll haunt you for generations. Also, keep these in and listen to music until I say it’s alright.”

I took Bluetooth earphones from my pyjama pocket and fitted them into Shigure-san’s ears.
Genuine Apple products. With high-quality noise-cancelling.
Ignoring Shigure-san’s bewildered expression, I played Apple Music on my phone. The selection was Charles’ major debut album. The top track on the playlist was ‘Best Wishes to Charles Perrault’. Our song.

Though hesitant, Shigure-san turned to face the wall as I instructed.
The B-melody was nearing its end. The chorus kicked in, the song accelerating.
Enough to drown out the noise.
I lay down on the bed, pulling the futon over my lower body.
I exhaled softly.

　Then, as quietly as possible, I slid down my trousers and underpants.

“…Mmm…”

The moment I touched myself, I recoiled at my own arousal. Thirty minutes until the album ended. I’d been panicking about finishing quickly, but it might be over sooner than expected.
To get it over with swiftly, I rubbed my fingers roughly, right up to the edge of pain.

“…Fuuu…”

　Shigure-san was staring at the wall, as promised.
But maybe she really had noticed. What if she had? If she found out I was doing this in the same bed, she’d definitely hate me.
If that happened, I’d have no choice but to die honourably.
I was scared. More scared of rejection than of dying.
Even though I was scared.

“…Shigure-sa… Ugh… Shigure-san…”

It’s terrifying enough to kill me, yet somehow it connects to pleasure. Fear and pleasure make my head go haywire. My brain turns to mush.
Right next to Shigure-san, using both the real and imagined Shigure-san, I focus my consciousness on a single point. The speed and depth were the highest yet. I desperately hold back the sound. I feel like crying. Actually, I am crying.
　Just when I thought I was one step away, I couldn’t hold back. I turned my head, bringing the tip of my nose close to Shigure-san’s nape. Closing my eyes, I drew in a long breath through my nose.
Ah, good. This is good. Like this, I can fly incredibly high. Am I flying or sinking? Which is it, me? Either is fine, though.

“…Hah… Hmph…”

“Hey.”

My breath caught.

“Does your tummy hurt that much?”

“Gah!!?!!?”

When I opened my eyes, Shigure-san’s face was close enough to kiss.
N-no, no, no, no. Why, why did you turn around now? I said I’d resent you forever. No, no, impossible, impossible, impossible! Because… my fingers just won’t stop.

“I-Ihyah,”

“Oh, I see. I’ll stroke it for you then.”

Ignoring my response (?), Shigure-san wriggled about. Wait, Shigure-san’s wearing earphones, she can’t hear me! This person’s still drunk, isn’t she?!
Cold fingers slipped under the hem of my pyjamas.
No.
No, no, stop it, Shigure-san. If you touch me now, I’ll go mad.

　I’ll break.

Smooth fingertips trace the skin of my stomach. I’m so hypersensitive I can feel the shape of every fingerprint. The ring finger brushes the edge of my navel, and my spine jerks. Why am I reacting there?

“Ouchie, ouchie, fly away!”

　Like soothing a child, her gentle hands stroke my belly. Round and round, Shigure-san’s palm traces circles.
Her fingers aren’t moving anymore, yet shivers crawl up my spine, shaking my brain.
No. That’s not true. Because, you know, being stroked like that on the belly… that’s perverted, isn’t it? Impossible. No, absolutely not.
　But it is.

“Go away, go away.”

My vision flickered, and I couldn’t think straight.

“Fly away—”

“…Ugh, ah…”

My whole body shuddered. My knees buckled, and my body bent into a crooked shape. Tension and release. The sensation and awareness that had been concentrated in one spot in my lower abdomen spread back through my entire body.
　Every muscle in my body began to melt.
My heart was pounding.
It felt like I’d gone further than ever before. In my belly. With Shigure-san’s hand.
My body sank into the bed, my mind floated into the sky, and I felt like I might cease to exist.
Amidst a loneliness so profound it made me want to cry, I noticed the palm still resting on my belly.
　I clasped my hand over Shigure-san’s, as if clutching a lifeline.
In that instant, like a dam bursting, the feeling of ‘liking’ overflowed.
I like you.
I like Shigure-san.
I knew it, but I understood nothing. I knew, but I knew nothing.
This is the real thing. This is the real ‘liking’.
　A ‘like’ so intense it made everything I’d felt before feel like a lie, a ‘like’ that made my head spin.
The impulse exploded.
Still half-naked, I rolled over to face Shigure-san.

“Shigure-san, I, I—”

The crucial words caught in my throat. My eyes burned, my vision blurred.
　Shigure-san stroked my head like soothing a troublesome child. So gentle. I wanted more touch. More stroking. My chest felt tight and aching.
Shigure-san was drunk, I was half-naked, absolutely not the time. Not the time in every possible sense.
But I didn’t care.
Say it. Just say it already, me.

“You know, I feel about Shigure-san—”

“Runa, has your tummy ache gone?”

Time stood still.

“………………………Runa?”

Who?
The sweet afterglow enveloping my whole body ebbed away like a receding tide.

“Shigure-san”

“……Sshh……”

“Hey”

“……Mmm……”

“Who’s Runa? Hey, I said. Since when did you start thinking of me as that person?”

“………….”

“Wake up. Shigure-san, wake up.”

Smack. I slapped Shigure-san’s cheek.
But there was no reaction.

“Shigure-san?”

“…………Sya…”

“Oi.”

Shigure-san was fast asleep.
Shaking her shoulders, doing anything at all, didn’t wake her.

I moved to the washroom, still half-naked, and took a shower. I put on a change of underwear, hand-washed the soiled knickers, stuffed them into a convenience store plastic bag, and tucked it at the very bottom of my school bag.
Then I crawled back into bed.
Of course, I didn’t get a wink of sleep until morning.
How could I?