Episode One Hundred and Twenty-Eight

“Did you dislike blue cheese?”

Runa lowered her voice across the table.
Her gaze rested on the antipasto starter.
Thinly sliced figs lay beneath Gorgonzola cheese, mixed with nuts and drizzled with honey.

“No, not at all.”

I carefully lifted the fork and placed the antipasto in my mouth.
The rich sweetness of the honey, the freshness of the fig, mingled with the cheese’s flavour.
I’d braced myself for the fancy combination, but it was fine. Properly delicious.

“It’s delicious.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

Runa took a sip of her pre-dinner champagne and glanced at me with concern.

“Just tell me if you’re feeling unwell.”

“I’m really fine. More importantly, what about the pizza? Margherita or Quattro Formaggi?”

“Ame should choose. It’s Ame’s celebration, after all.”

“Hmm, alright then… Margherita it is.”

“Got it. — Ah, excuse me.”

Runa raised her hand, and a waiter promptly arrived.
Alongside the Margherita, Runa ordered marinated aubergine and olives.

“Once again—”
—she said, holding the stem of her slender champagne glass.

“Congratulations on going independent, Ame.”

“How many times is that now?”

“About three, I suppose.”

“It’s the fourth. I’m delighted, though.”

“Well, it is a celebratory occasion.”

Runa’s elegantly tinted lips curved into a gentle arc.

“You always said it was your goal. I never imagined you’d decide so soon, though.”

“Well, circumstances being what they are…”

　I reached for my aperitif too. A Mimosa. Champagne mixed with orange juice, low in alcohol and easy to drink.

“Truthfully, I thought I’d wait a bit longer, build up my skills and connections first…”

“But timing is everything… though saying that sounds rather irresponsible, doesn’t it?”

“No, thank you.”

Probably, there’s no such thing as perfectly right timing. All that’s left is to try my best not to regret it.

“And… thank you for all your advice.”

Runa helped me out with so much this time. From filing the business registration to preparing for tax returns.
On top of that, she even introduced me to several art-related job opportunities.
I really can’t thank her enough.

“Don’t worry about it at all. It’s just me repaying a favour.”

Runa gave a soft smile.

“I’ll properly thank you next time.”

“What are you talking about? I was the one who caused Ame all sorts of trouble back at art school, no, wait.”

The margarita and marinated aubergine arrived. Without touching them, Runa continued.

“No, that’s not it.”

“Runa?”

“It’s not about debts or favours. I just want to do something for Ame.”

Whether it was the alcohol or the effect of the dim, indirect lighting,
Runa’s cheeks appeared faintly flushed.
Even now, having let go of so much, seeing that expression made me uneasy.
　I looked down at the menu as if escaping.
A short pasta dish with a chilli pepper symbol caught my eye. Shizuku, who loves spicy food, would probably like this sort of thing.
Come to think of it, I changed the subject.

“How’s Shizuku been lately?”

“What do you mean?”

“Her entrance exams and all. I wonder if she’s drawing properly.”

“She’ll be fine. That girl will definitely pass.”

　Getting into art school is a lottery. There’s no clear formula guaranteeing success.
Still, hearing that from a practising artist and art school prep tutor put my mind at ease.
While repeating the entrance exams twice or thrice isn’t unheard of, passing first time is always preferable.
Deftly folding the edge of her pizza with a fork, Runa continued, “But you see…”

“She’s fundamentally serious… or rather, she tends to overwork herself. That’s what worries me.”

“Ah…”

I understood.
I had that tendency myself, to a large extent.
At times like this, I truly felt we were sisters.

“I hear it happens sometimes. People burning themselves out at prep school.”

“Yes. That’s why I try to keep an eye on her, to make sure she doesn’t get too fixated…”

　I’m incredibly grateful.
Just being allowed to stay there is more than enough.

“Maybe we should let her take a breather. Summer holidays are coming up soon.”

“Summer holidays, huh…”

The words felt so distant.
Just a few years ago, they came around once a year, without fail.
Working adults don’t get proper summer holidays.
　At best, you cobble together paid leave for a long weekend. If someone asked what I did last summer? I couldn’t say.

“You too, Ame.”

“Eh?”

“Freelancers, if they’re not careful, end up working non-stop. Weekends and holidays be damned.”

“True…”

“Ame, you’re not very good at taking breaks, are you? Though you’re rather good at making others take them.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“You are.”

Runa wiped tomato sauce from the corner of her mouth with her thumb.
That careless gesture hinted at traces of her student days, when she had zero domestic skills.
A trivial memory surfaced. The day I boiled bulk-pack pasta piled high in the supermarket, made arrabbiata with frozen seafood mix and tinned tomatoes, and served it to her.

　—Perhaps Runa was right after all.

“It won’t get back on track straight away, and you’ll probably feel anxious or panicky without work. But why not treat it like a summer holiday from life? Just take it easy.”

“A summer holiday, eh…”

Even hearing that, all I could think was how amazing Runa really was.
Right now, I couldn’t possibly be so magnanimous.
　As I fell silent, Runa gave me a questioning look.
She opened and closed her perfectly shaped lips hesitantly.

“──Hey, Ame.”

She finally spoke.

“Would you like to go somewhere sometime? Just the four of us: Ame, me, Shizuku-chan… and Shinomori-san.”