Episode Twenty-Three

During my art college days, I had three particularly close friends.
The first was Haru Hinata.
Then there was Hibari Minamikumo, another member of the Weather Trio.
And the last was Runa Yomi.

　When I was with Haru or Hibari, we were usually all three together, but somehow I often found myself alone with Runa.
Runa had this otherworldly air about her. While overflowing with talent as an artist, her everyday life skills were utterly disastrous.
Even the story of how we met was wild.
In May of our first year, Runa had collapsed on a bench in a corner of the campus.
From hunger.
　Like something out of a manga.

‘Um, would you like this…?’

Thinking ‘Art school is seriously scary’, I took a ‘Fluffy Yubari Melon Bread’ out of my eco-bag and tentatively offered it to her.

‘Eh, are you a god…?’

‘No, I’m not.’

That was the start of our friendship, which lasted roughly four years.

　Runa, too, was an art student living away from home, just like me.
She was what you’d call the ‘well-off family’ type, residing in a high-rise apartment complex three grades above mine.
The sort with a gym inside and a concierge permanently stationed at reception.
But, to reiterate, Runa simply lacked any life skills whatsoever. Completely absent.
　Despite being wealthy, if left to her own devices, she’d only eat stir-fried bean sprouts from the student cafeteria or instant noodles. She had no particular interest in food and was indifferent to nutrition; she’d even nearly collapsed from dehydration during the summer.

Having started cooking for myself to save money and grappling with the difficulty of preparing just one portion, I seized the opportunity and began cooking for her.
　Fortunately, Runa seemed to like my cooking, and she started spending more and more time at my place.
Hare, with his sharp tongue, called it ‘baiting’, but that wasn’t my intention at all.
It was just that, before I knew it, we were sleeping in the same bed.
Eventually, it became the norm, so for her twentieth birthday, I bought her a pillow.

　Then—
Then, after various things happened, she vanished from my life.
Now, it seems she’s thriving as an illustrator back in her hometown of Hokkaido.
Just recently, she illustrated the cover for a novel nominated for the Naoki Prize. You could call it a splendid career.

“Come to think of it, Yomi’s apparently coming back to Tokyo.”

Haru muttered suddenly.

“I suppose Tokyo’s easier for freelancers, come what may.”

First I’d heard of it.
Then again, Runa doesn’t use social media, so news about her circumstances rarely surfaces in the first place.
Nibbling on basil-infused tomato and avocado bruschetta, Haru grumbled.

“Can that girl even manage living alone properly? He’s definitely the type who couldn’t set up Wi-Fi on her own, right?”

“Ahaha, surely not.”

Breaking apart an arancini (Italian-style rice croquette) with mozzarella cheese inside with my chopsticks, I thought, “Nah, totally possible.”
Forget Wi-Fi, even sorting her rubbish seems doubtful.
Basically, Runa has no interest in anything outside her work.
At least, she used to be like that.

“She might just turn up at Ame’s place again, you know. Saying something like, ‘My electricity got cut off, help me out’.”

“Ahaha, no way.”

Picking at the fritto misto (Italian-style tempura) of prawns and squid, I thought, “Nah, that’s not happening.”
After all, that’s how Runa and I parted ways.

Once things had settled down a bit, I ordered another drink.
Still, everything they serve here is absolutely delicious.
The arancini are superb, with the tomato risotto filling and melted cheese inside pairing perfectly, and the fritto misto batter is piping hot and wonderfully crisp.
I’m quite partial to the combination of savoury rice and sweet drinks, so I inevitably reach for the cassis orange. Sweet and delicious.
　Above all, the time spent with my easy-going friend is pure joy.
Our reminiscences blossom and flourish, bursting into full bloom like a flower field.
We vented plenty of work grievances, and had plenty vented to us.
All that chatting makes your throat dry.
So we drink.
The drinks are delicious too.
I find myself thinking, ‘Blimey, alcohol is this good?’
Suddenly, Haru, her face flushed red, said.

“Ame, how many glasses is that for you?”

“Eh? I think it’s my third…”

Probably.

“Oh. Ah… then I can still manage… right? I could probably handle about three glasses of Cassis Orange, I reckon.”

“No problem, no problem.”

Smiling broadly, I downed what was likely my second glass of Cassis Orange. Sweet and delicious.

“Drinks are lovely, aren’t they?”

“Oh… hang on. Was it only three drinks…?”

“Refill, please.”

Feeling light-headed, I ordered another round.
I might be getting a bit tipsy.
Suddenly, Haru said as if remembering something.

“You know, didn’t you have some weird way of getting drunk?”

“Huh?”

A weird way of getting drunk?
　Hmm, what happens to me when I get drunk again?
Come to think of it, I recall Haru once telling me, “You absolutely mustn’t have more than two drinks when there are men around. Absolutely not.”
What did she say after that? I feel like I’m so close to remembering.
Something about being a heavy drinker… yes. Something like that.
Laughing drunk. No.
Crying drunk. No.
Angry drunk. That’s not it either.
　I remember now.

‘That face of yours when you get clingy after a few drinks? Proper nasty, that.’

──That’s it.

The waiter came over and placed a glass in front of me.
Drink. Eat. Drink. Drink.
The cassis orange is sweet and delicious.

My memory pretty much goes blank from around that point.
Until waking up the next morning in the same bed as Ibara.