Episode One Hundred and Six

Several days passed. Ibara seemed perpetually distracted.
She’d stare blankly at the ceiling while opening her notebook, or suddenly fall silent mid-meal.
It was clear she had worries, yet whenever I asked, she’d evade the question.
Even when I discreetly asked Aki-san, she’d just tilt her head and say, “I don’t know.”

“Listen, Ibara──…”

　After hesitating, I told Ibara about Kikuno-san.
That a message had come via Hiname-chan, asking for contact. Including what Aki-san had told me – that she was Ibara’s aunt.
Having finished explaining, I cautiously watched Ibara’s expression.

“Aunt Kikuno?”

　Ibara furrowed her brow, her well-shaped eyebrows knitting together.

“Any idea what that might be about?”

“…I’ll give her a call.”

Saying that, she tapped away at her smartphone.
Probably saving the contact details in a screenshot or the memo function.
Soon, Ibara pressed the phone to her ear, left the living-dining area, and headed towards the bathroom.
　The sound of voices conversing drifted through.
The door muffled the words, making the content hard to make out.
Still, it was clear the exchange wasn’t calm.
About five minutes passed, perhaps. With the phone still pressed to her ear, Ibara returned.

“Shigure-san, may I give Aunt Kikuno your contact details?”

“Eh?”

“She said she’d like to have them in case of an emergency.”

　What kind of emergency?
But the fact she asked meant Ibara trusted Kikuno-san. So I wanted to trust her too.

“Sure.”

Nodding, Ibara gave my number over the phone.
After a few more words, she pulled the phone away.
Her lowered profile betrayed an exhaustion she couldn’t quite hide.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing.”

I sensed a thin yet hard rejection, like a sheet of ice.
But I wouldn’t be deterred by that now.

“If you don’t want to say, you don’t have to.”

I met her eyes as I spoke.

“Whatever you say, I won’t stop liking you, Ibara.”

Her slender throat trembled slightly.
It reminded me of a lost child holding back tears.
　Ibara’s eyes darted left and right before she exhaled sharply and murmured softly.

“…Really?”

My heart clenched beneath my ribs.
The same ache I felt when I heard Ibara cry out “I can’t sleep” in Sereno.
But this pain cut deeper, far deeper than back then. It must be because I’ve changed.
　I drew her egg-shaped head close.

“It’s true.”

So please, let me protect you.
May only gentle, merciful rain fall upon your sky, you who are more precious than anyone in the world.

†

“How should I start with this sort of thing?”

“Anything’s fine. Anything, from anywhere.”

“…You heard about my family from Aki-chan, didn’t you?”

“Sort of. I can only imagine, though.”

“Yeah. Well, I reckon it was pretty much as you’d imagine. We lived in the countryside, but it was like a mansion.”

Ibara called it “the countryside,” but that just meant “not Tokyo” – it was actually a fairly prosperous part of Kantō.

“We had servants at home, and as a kid, I thought that was normal. Looking back, it’s pretty embarrassing.”

“Growing up in that sort of environment, I suppose it’s hardly surprising…”

After all, people can only live within the scope of what they can see.

“Is that so? But, you know how there’s this image of wealthy people living leisurely, taking it easy? Our home was nothing like that at all.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My father would go out in a suit every day like normal, and he was hardly ever home at weekends either. I don’t have a single memory of him playing with me.”

My throat tightened.
I forced myself to swallow the harsh words. I was surprised at myself for even thinking such things.

“Mum was strict too. She’d just lecture me whenever she opened her mouth. Not about tidying my room or studying, though.”

“Right.”

“She always told me to fulfil my role without running away. Hey, Shigure-san, what do you think my role was in that house?”

“…I don’t know.”

“To be a cute, pretty doll. Strangers were constantly coming and going in that house, and every time, I was made to greet them. My job was to smile sweetly, bow, and be praised for being adorable.”

　A thin, hollow smile touched Ibara’s lips.

“It wasn’t that I disliked it, you know. I understood Father was working hard, and I liked being praised as a lovely little girl. But somewhere deep down, I always felt like I was just a doll to those people.”

Behind her eyelids, the image of Ibara as a primary schooler appeared.
　A princess in her Sunday best. Smiling, yet with a hint of loneliness in her eyes.

“I ran away once.”

“You ran away?”

“When I was eight, I think. I heard important people were coming to the house, so I slipped out of my room and hid in the neighbourhood park. Then suddenly it started pouring with rain, and I got completely soaked.”

She laughed, ahaha.

“I should have just given up and gone home then, but I got scared. I thought I’d get told off if I went back looking so dirty, all soaked through. So I hid under the slide in the park, ate the sweets I’d brought, but really, I was hoping just as much.”

“Hoping?”

“That since my hair and clothes were such a mess, maybe they’d be kind to me.”

　Ibara’s tightly clenched hands were white and taut, like plaster casts for drawing.

“In the end, the maid found me in the evening and gave me a proper telling-off. But when I got home, on my way to the bath, I saw them. In the guest room, laughing with those guests in suits.”

I understand, Ibara said.
I understood everything perfectly.

“They were important guests, weren’t they? Adults have responsibilities. There are so many people who depend on them fulfilling their roles. Rescheduling is impossible. They don’t have time for a child’s whims. They can’t afford to worry. I understood all that, but—”

But.

“It was as if I didn’t matter at all.”

The corners of Ibara’s eyes were dry. Yet, I thought she was crying.
Inside the eighteen-year-old Ibara, the eight-year-old Ibara was crying. In a past now beyond reach.
I wanted to be gentle with her.
If only there were a time machine, I’d go without hesitation to offer her my umbrella. But now, all I can do is hold her hand, and that feels frustratingly inadequate.

“I realised this wasn’t my place. Quite a few people in showbiz came round to the house, and they’d jokingly give me their business cards. So I phoned the numbers on them, asked about agencies and auditions, sent videos without telling them, went to interviews, and got accepted.”

“Right.”

“When I ran away, they didn’t even try to stop me. Honestly, it kind of moved me. Like, wow, these people really, truly couldn’t care less about me.”

Unable to say anything, I stroked the head nestled against mine. A long, drawn-out sniffle. Her eyes were slightly red.

“So why now, all of a sudden…”

“Did you hear from them?”

Ibara nodded.

“Aunt Kikuno seemed worried and tried to get in touch. I visited my mother’s family home once years ago, and she’s been concerned about me ever since.”

“…What did your parents say?”

“They said to show my face once.”

She lowered her dark eyes.

“Then they said to come back after finishing high school. No need to take entrance exams. They’d sort out a job for me there.”

“But that—”

“I won’t go back.”

Ibara gripped my hand. Hard enough to hurt.

“I absolutely won’t go back.”

“Ibara…”

“I’m not a child anymore. I’ve got Aki-chan too. If it comes down to it, I could become an idol again. I won’t go back. I’m staying here.”

Ibara looked up at me, clinging to me as she spoke.

“Is it okay for me to stay here? It is, right? Please, I’ll do anything.”

I couldn’t bear it any longer and pulled her slender body close.
A body so delicate and fragile it seemed it might melt away at any moment.
How much loneliness must she have carried inside her?
Holding her tightly, I caught the scent of citrus lemon.
Ibara’s scent, unchanged since the day we first met.
She timidly returned my embrace.

“It’s alright. I’ll stay with you forever.”

It’s pathetic, not something an adult should say, but I need Ibara too.
Just as much as Ibara needs me.