Episode Fourteen

I’ve always been a bit of a perfectionist. I tend to think, ‘If I’m going to do it, I might as well do it properly.’ When I get absorbed in something, I don’t leave my room. That’s just the sort of person I am.
That’s me, Amami Shigure.
I’ll help Ibara get a good night’s sleep.
Once I’ve decided that, I want to see it through.

“I want to buy all sorts of things. Bath milks, aromatherapy diffusers…”

　Bath salts and aromatherapy are classic relaxation items. Unfortunately, this house doesn’t have any.

“I’ve tried most sleep aids, but…?”

“But maybe you just haven’t found the right one yet?”

“Hmm…”

Ibara looked pensive. Had I been too hasty?
But she soon smiled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Alright, let’s go. Where shall we go?”

“I reckon LaLaport at Kaihin-Mihama Station would be good.”

LaLaport is a complex shopping centre derived from the French “la port”. It pretty much has everything.
It’s close and has loads of shops, so I used to go often, but come to think of it, I haven’t been lately because I’ve been busy. Some shops will have changed too. It’s genuinely something I look forward to.
And yet.

“Lalaport, huh…”

Another lukewarm reaction. Why?

“Would you rather somewhere else? But the only other option is heading into central Tokyo.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Probably.”

What does ‘probably’ mean?
Staring up at the empty space, Ibara murmurs as if to himself.

“That place gets pretty busy on weekends, you know… Wearing regular clothes is riskier than a uniform…”

　Wait, what are we even talking about?

†

So, Saturday arrives.
We’re meeting at the station front at eleven. Somehow it already feels like we’re proper mates, but come to think of it, the Ibara I know is only ‘morning’ or ‘night’ Ibara. In a way, this is my first meeting with ‘daytime’ Ibara.
Ibara, who stayed over at my place as usual last night, put on her uniform in the morning and went back to ‘Sereno’.
　Shouldn’t I have gone with her? I thought, but then realised the only clothes she’d brought to my place were her uniform, nightwear, and undergarments.
She must have gone home to change into her regular clothes.
Come to think of it, that was also a first. What kind of relationship is it where you see someone in pyjamas before you see them in regular clothes…? It struck me now, belatedly.
I hesitated myself, then decided on a high-neck dress with black leggings.

　Waiting at the ticket gate, Ibara arrived two minutes before our agreed time.

“Sorry I’m late!”

Huh! I couldn’t help but stare.
A big-silhouette white hoodie with denim trousers. A Nike cap with a visor. And a ponytail to boot.
An unexpectedly sporty outfit. Given her pyjama taste, I’d thought she’d wear something more girly. Well, she looks good in anything. This girl really is a natural.

Seeing her in civilian clothes like this really highlights how uniforms, while cute, are garments that force individuality into the ‘student’ mould. How to put it… When Ibara wears her uniform, she’s first and foremost a ‘schoolgirl’. But now, she feels like ‘Shinomori Ibara’. The ‘Ibara-ness’ feels diluted, somehow…
No, what am I even saying? What is ‘Ibara-ness’?
　I call out to Ibara as she approaches.

“Feeling alright?”

“Yeah, fine. Let’s go.”

With the most natural gesture, Ibara takes my arm. I don’t exactly resist.
We pass through the ticket gates and head for the platform. A train arrives almost immediately, and we board together.

“Fancy anything for lunch?”

“Eh, a doughnut then.”

　Suddenly sounding like a typical high schooler. Is that lunch? Fine by me.

“I haven’t really eaten many, you know.”

“Liar. High schoolers eat French toast or chips every day, don’t they?”

“I was a high school loner with no friends. Actually, Shigure-san, were you that kind of girl?”

“No way. I was all about club activities.”

“Art club?”

“Well, sort of.”

I’d been drawing constantly. A bit of sculpture too. It was only natural, really, since I was aiming for art college.
Outside the train window, the early winter sea flowing beneath us sparkled and glinted, dazzling in the sunlight.

“──You don’t draw anymore?”

To Ibara’s question, I answered as casually as possible.

“No, I’m not. Probably won’t again.”

†

Arriving at the mall connected directly to the station, we stopped at the food court first.
I ordered a seasonal pão de ló ring and corn soup; Ibara got a doughnut hop and a chocolate café latte.

“Is doughnut for lunch acceptable, Shigure-san?”

“Not really.”

Today was special.
　I savoured the gentle saltiness of the corn soup and the chewy texture of the pão de ló alternately.
Ibara’s Donut Hop was an assortment packed with various bite-sized doughnuts. Her eyes sparkled at each one as she ate them like treasures.

“Shigure-san, what should I do?”

“About what?”

“They’re all delicious.”

As if she’d never eaten Mister Donut in her life.

“Well, the Donut Hop is supposed to be delicious all round.”

“This means I can’t feed you any, Shigure-san.”

“You don’t have to.”

Besides, weren’t you just trying to foist the flavours you dislike onto me?
Still, I have to admit she looks incredibly pleased eating them.
I tore off a piece of the Pierre Marcolini collaboration chocolate pongering and offered it to Ibara.

“Want some?”

“Yes, yes!”

When I tried to put it in the Donut Hop container, Ibara pleaded with her eyes.
No, that’s not it.

“…Well, I suppose I have no choice.”

I carried the plucked piece to Ibara’s mouth.
Her small lips parted, pinching the doughnut between them.

“Yummy.”

“Glad you like it.”

I feigned nonchalance, but inside, my heart was pounding wildly.
She’s so cute.
This little devil. You shouldn’t do things like that to anyone but your true love.

　After a light snack, we moved on to the cosmetics shop. The one with the distinctive yellow design – basically, L’Oréal. They stocked bath products and room fragrances too.

“You mentioned trying aromatherapy, didn’t you?”

While looking at the spray-on fragrance products for bedding, I asked Ibara.

“What sort did you use?”

“Lavender. They say it helps you sleep.”

Ah, a classic choice.
Though, judging by her tone, it probably didn’t suit her. Ultimately, these things are best matched to your own preferences.
Ibara’s favourite scent.
Ever since we met, she’s always carried the same fragrance. A crisp, fresh citrus note, reminiscent of summer. The scent of citrus.
　Recently, I figured out what that scent was. Shampoo and hand cream. She uses citrus-based products for both.

“But you do like citrus scents, right?”

“Yeah.”

Right then, I chose a verbena pillow mist. It’s a herb with a scent similar to lemon. I picked up a sample and sprayed it onto my sleeve.

“Here.”

“Eh?”

“Have a sniff. What do you think?”

“Oh, right.”

She brought her face close to my wrist and sniffed.
Her reaction was clear from her expression. She seemed to like it.

“Shall we buy it? I’ll pay.”

“Hmm… I think it smells nice, but…”

Huh? She didn’t seem too keen.

“This is pillow mist, so you spray it on your pillow, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“I’d rather have something that smells like you, Shigure-san.”

“Eh… what⁉︎”

Was that… something incredible to say?
Do my sheets really smell that much? I thought I washed them properly.

“I want to know what perfume you use, Shigure-san.”

“Like I said before, I usually go for the budget stuff. Make Me Happy’s Green, for example.”

“What’s that like?”

“Eh? Well, bergamot and rose… or something? Anyway, I’ve got it.”

She took a stick-type container out of her handbag and handed it to Ibara.

“Right then.”

For some reason, Ibara sprayed the perfume onto her own wrist right there and then.
　She sniffed it and tilted her head.

“It smells completely different somehow…?”

“Perfume changes scent over time, you know.”

Immediately after spraying, it’s the top note. Then the scent changes as the ingredients evaporate, moving to the middle and last notes. That’s how perfume works.
Yet, Ibara looked unconvinced.

“Hmm, that’s not what I mean. It’s more fundamental than that.”

“Oh? Well, they do say perfume interacts with your natural scent, so—”

I started to say it might change depending on the person wearing it, but my voice caught.
Because Ibara had buried her nose in the crook of my neck.
She drew in a sharp “shoooh” sound, inhaling the air trapped between my high-neck collar and skin.
　N-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n

“I prefer this smell when sleeping.”

This smell?
That’s the smell of my sweat, you know.
I jolted awake at the piercing gaze of the shop assistant.
Twisting away, I pulled myself free from Ibara. Grabbing my wrist, I practically dragged myself out of the shop.
My face still felt hot.
Oh dear. I thought, I might never be able to set foot in this shop again.