Episode Sixty-Five

37.4 degrees.
A temperature slightly above the ‘slight fever’ range, and a pervasive sense of fatigue enveloping my entire body. A hazy, blurred vision. Joint pain and a vague, nagging sore throat.
It was a full-blown cold.

‘Sorry, I’ve caught a cold.’

I briefly considered the risks of pushing myself, but in the end, I sent the apology message.
　Truthfully, I’d agonised over it. I knew exactly how Ibara would react upon reading it.
The message was marked as read immediately. Before any reply came, I sent another in quick succession.

‘Don’t come to visit, alright? You’ll catch it.’

‘Already on my way.’

But you’d only just marked it as read.
She’d probably just left home, I’d overslept due to the fever. Her decision was swift.
　The phone slipped from my grasp as I tried to resend the “Don’t come” message. My eyelids felt heavy. Perhaps I was more exhausted than I’d realised.
I managed to send only “Fine,” but as that thought, that this Japanese could be interpreted any number of ways, floated through my mind, my consciousness dissolved into drowsiness and vanished.

　†

When did my mother tell me that I’d always been a child who couldn’t sleep alone?
I don’t recall how the conversation came to that. Anyway, it seems that even when given my own room, I stubbornly refused to sleep alone, always slipping into my parents’ futon between them.
I must have felt lonely. Perhaps I envied my sister, feeling she monopolised all the affection.
　Still, a parent’s heart wants their eldest child to become independent.
For me, who refused to sleep alone, my mother bought a ridiculously huge stuffed sheep named Miss Mary.
True to my mother’s plan, I took a great liking to Miss Mary, who was worth hugging, and began to happily climb into bed.

Perhaps because I continued such nights until my high school years, even now, occasionally, a sheep stands at my dream-bedside.

“Baaah”

That particular night, Mary stood on two legs, skilfully using her black hooves to stroke my head.
By any measure, it was ripe for ridicule, and upon calm reflection, a rather eerie creature. Yet strangely, it didn’t raise any questions – such is the nature of dreams.
　The occasional touch of her cold hooves felt pleasantly soothing, and I rubbed my cheek against her, almost as if seeking affection.
Then Miss Mary would pull her hand (or was it her front leg?) back as if touching something hot, and that felt strangely lonely.
In the dream, I wandered aimlessly around some street corner, searching for Miss Mary who had vanished in the blink of an eye.
But I couldn’t find her.
　I can’t sleep alone.
Feeling on the verge of tears, I turn a familiar corner, only for a cold tongue to suddenly lick my forehead.

“Gyaaah!!?”

“Waaah!”

“Eh? Ah, Ibara⁉︎”

　I jolted awake, and the first thing I saw was Ibara’s face.
I reflexively tried to sit up, and a wet towel slid off my forehead. So that was the source of the cold tongue.

“What the… You gave me such a fright…”

“Fukku!”

Ibara burst out laughing, as if she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She laughed out loud.

“Ku, ku-kuh-kuh, ah-ha-ha! Shigure-san, what a scream. Gyaaah! Gyaaah!”

“…Can’t help it. I was startled…”

“Fufu, you just said ‘Gyaaah’, didn’t you? Gyaaah!”

“Shut up.”

Thud. My back, which had started to sit up, hit the bed.

“I told you not to come.”

“You didn’t say I wasn’t allowed to come.”

“Grrr…”

Whether it was the fever or not, I couldn’t think of a good retort.
Ibara repositioned the damp towel that had slipped off onto my forehead.

“What if you catch it?”

“Because I wanted to see it. Your face when you’re sick and weak, Shigure-san.”

“What on earth…”

It’s not that she was worried or concerned or anything like that.
But maybe it’s better this way. Might actually be easier on the mind.

“Shigure-san, is there anything you want me to do? I can look after you.”

“You just want to be a thorn in my side, don’t you?”

“Mmph. Want me to make some rice porridge? I can make the instant kind.”

“No thanks. I just had some jelly.”

　And medicine too. That’s probably why I fell asleep.

“Ah, right. I brought something lovely from Aki-chan.”

“Something lovely?”

“This, this.”

Ibara pulled a silver parcel and a storage container from her handbag.

“Chamomile and elderflower tea leaves, and honey-preserved ginger. I’ll make you some honey ginger tea with this.”

　The gift was rather stylish. Typical Aki-san.
Ibara boiled water in the kettle and, surprisingly efficiently, prepared the ginger tea.
Sitting up, I took a sip. “Thank you.” The scent of chamomile rose. The natural sweetness of honey spread, mingling with the sharp, tingling sting of ginger on my tongue.
　The gentle warmth soothed my weakened stomach terribly.

“…Delicious.”

“I’m glad.”

The bed springs creaked. Ibara, sitting on the edge, placed a hand on my cheek.
Ah, I thought.
This sensation. The same as the hooves of the bipedal Miss Mary that appeared in my dream.
Chillingly cold, yet pleasantly smooth fingertips.

“…Ibara. Did you touch me while I was asleep?”

She flinched.
Ah, this kid really did touch me.

“Pervert.”

“N-no, I didn’t touch you.”

“Really?”

“…………Just your cheek. I wanted to check your temperature.”

“You did touch me.”

“Sorry, did you mind?”

Ibara’s eyebrow tips drooped.
It wasn’t that I was angry. I didn’t mind being touched, and I’d even said before that she could do as she pleased while I slept.
I just wanted to confirm. That the sensation of someone touching me in my dream was indeed Ibara’s hand.

“No,”

“It’s fine. I’m lying down, so just do whatever. You can leave if you get bored.”

“Right.”

Nodding, Ibara moved to the rug.
Hugging a beanbag cushion to her stomach, she plugged earphones into her ears and tapped her phone.
Probably watching another ‘Charles’ video or the next episode of some foreign drama.
Seeing her earnest back made guilt prickle at me. We should have been at the aquarium right now.

“Sorry I caught a cold.”

“Not at all. Your health comes first, and this feels rather romantic in its own way.”

“Feels romantic,” huh.
Come to think of it, she said something similar last time too.
Does seeking that “feel” in our relationship stem from being swept up in dating, or from insecurity?
Well, probably the latter.
　Gender and age difference aren’t problems only I carry. They’re exactly the same seeds of anxiety for Ibara too.
So today I tried to act “appropriate,” yet here I am in this state.
Even though I’m older, I’m hopeless, I tend to think negatively. I want to blame it on the cold, but…

“But it’s such a special White Day.”

Ibara spun around.
　Her large eyes blinked rapidly.

“Did you remember, Shigure-san?”

“Of course.”

If someone asks you out on a date and specifies the 14th of March, anyone would realise.
I closed my eyes, my thoughts drifting back to that night a month ago.
The 14th of February.
The Valentine’s Day that came so soon after I started dating Ibara.