Episode 5: The Price of Rain

Getting soaked to the bone in that downpour probably wasn’t a good idea.

I’d had a bad feeling about it. That spine-tingling chill hadn’t gone away even after my bath.
I wanted to believe it was just my imagination, but the discomfort in my body only grew as night fell.

Finally, I couldn’t move from the bed.

“38.5 degrees…”

Yui-san, taking the thermometer, furrowed her well-shaped brows. I pulled the duvet up over my mouth, almost as if to escape the look she gave me from where she stood by the bedside, a look that seemed to want to say something.

“…Kanata, you haven’t had dinner, have you? What do you fancy? I’ll go and get something.”

“It’s alright, I’ve no appetite…”

“You really must eat something. Your temperature might rise more tonight, and if it does, you’ll need to take some fever reducers.”

The voice coming down from above was unexpectedly gentle. Yui-san sat down softly on the bed and peered up at my face.

Her worried gaze made me feel relieved. Thank goodness. I’d braced myself, thinking she might be angry.

“…What could you manage? Rice porridge?”

“I hate rice porridge. It’s tasteless…”

“What about rice gruel?”

“Hmm, I suppose I could manage that…”

“Right then.”

With just that, Yui-san stood up. The bed springs creaked.

“…Yui-san…”

The voice that called her name was weaker than I’d expected, surprising even me. She turned around, her hand already on the doorknob.

　It’s not as if loneliness could be conveyed by a glance alone.

Yet somehow, I found myself hoping.

Hoping she’d notice my feigned strength, my inability to admit how uneasy I felt.

“…I’ll be back soon, it’s alright.”

After confirming I nodded, the door closed softly with a pat. Only the ticking of the wall clock echoed through the room. Even though it was my usual room, where I’d been living for two months now, it felt strangely desolate.

My fever-addled, foggy brain churned through thoughts.

This was the first time I’d caught a cold since moving in with Yui-san. We have separate rooms, so I suppose there’s no real worry about passing it on if we’re careful. But, for better or worse, today is Saturday, and the hospital is closed tomorrow too.

　It was the usual time for dinner, yet I couldn’t tell if my stomach was empty or not.

The few minutes until Yui-san returned felt truly long.

“Kanata, I’m coming in, alright?”

I turned towards the sound as the door opened. It’s strange how Japanese people are – the moment I caught the pleasant aroma of bonito broth, my stomach, which shouldn’t have been empty, growled sharply.

　Such a delicious, inviting smell.

Leaning against the headboard, I sat up as Yui-san placed a tray on the side table and sat down on the bed.

Delicious-looking egg rice porridge. I could tell at a glance it wasn’t some instant packet.

“…So, Yui-san, you can cook, huh…”

Honestly, I was surprised. Since we often ate out or ordered takeaway for dinner, I’d hardly ever imagined her cooking for herself.

“I never said I couldn’t do it, just that I don’t usually.”

Yui-san stated it matter-of-factly, seemingly unconcerned, then scooped up some rice porridge with a spoon and brought it to my mouth.

“Here, open wide.”

“I’ll have some…”

The flavour of the broth spreading in my mouth made me genuinely think, this is delicious. Having her feed me felt a little embarrassing, but perhaps because my fever had me feeling dazed, it felt like being in a dream. I obediently moved my mouth, chewing quietly as prompted.

“It’s delicious…”

“Really? I’m glad. You can leave some if you want.”

I had indeed thought Yui-san’s house seemed a bit too well-equipped with cooking utensils for someone who didn’t cook.

“Yui-san, you don’t usually cook… so why… can you cook…?”

When visiting girls’ homes, I imagine she makes things for them. Somehow, I could picture that too.

But the words Yui-san uttered, without changing her expression, were entirely different from what I’d imagined.

“I grew up in a single-father household, so I can manage household chores to a certain extent. My dad was always busy and hardly ever home when I was a kid.”

Come to think of it, I realised. I’d heard about her father and her brother, but I’d never heard Yui mention her mother.

“When I was little and caught a cold, my dad made me some rice porridge once… but it was shockingly awful. That’s when I decided I’d take care of myself from then on.”

Yui chuckled oddly, and I found myself laughing along.

　The image of the president of a major Japanese corporation desperately trying to nurse his child brought a smile to my face.

Perhaps her father really was too busy to be home much. But one thing was clear: Yui had been raised in a loving home.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have grown into such a kind person.

Despite saying I had no appetite, I ended up polishing off the rice porridge she’d made for me.

　As Yui tucked the futon up to my shoulders, switched on the bedside lamp, and turned off the ceiling light, I reached out in a fluster.

My lifted arm felt heavier than usual, but my fingertips barely caught hold of the hem of her T-shirt as she tried to stand.

“…Are you leaving already?”

Yui blinked several times. She must have been surprised, but I couldn’t care less.

“I’m just taking the dishes away.”

“No, that can wait. Stay here.”

I squeezed the words out. I just wanted her to stay. I didn’t know why.
I felt like an abandoned kitten. Being alone in this room was far too lonely.

Yui chuckled faintly, looking exasperated, and sat back down on the bed.

　See? Just as I thought. If I ask like this, she usually laughs off most of my whims.

I held out my hand, wanting her to take it. Understanding my wish, Yui-san’s fingertips gently entwined mine.

“Yui-san, hold my hand… the whole time… until I fall asleep.”

“…All right.”

This person is surely kind to everyone. Not just me. I know that.

　Even knowing that, once I tasted this kindness, I realised I’d already gone too far to turn back.

Like my true nature was being dragged out bit by bit, only clingy words slipped from my lips.

“When I get a fever, I always have scary dreams…”

“…You catch colds because you come home soaking wet. If you’d called me, I would’ve come to fetch you.”

“But… Hayakawa-kun said he’d walk me home.”

“You’re easily persuaded, aren’t you, Kanata? Being this gullible makes me a bit worried.”

“I’m not gullible…”

“Then why did you go on a date with Hayakawa-kun?”

She pressed further, saying that if I lived alone, it wouldn’t have been strange for him to come up to my flat then. And I realised she was probably right.

　She couldn’t deny she’d let her guard down a bit, knowing he saw her work attitude at the part-time job too.

“It wasn’t a date… really…”

“Hmm…”

It wasn’t a date. That was true. Because they hadn’t even held hands.

They’d just gone to the zoo together and looked at the pandas. That was all. Nothing special happened, and she’d have been troubled if it had.

The only miscalculation was lending him Yui-san’s umbrella because of the rain.
I didn’t like the thought that it had created some sort of opening for something to happen next.

But I must get it back. Yui-san’s Burberry umbrella.

My gaze falls on our intertwined fingers. Matte, solid black nail polish. Neatly trimmed, short nails.

　Not a single hangnail, meticulously cared-for fingertips. Why did my heart pound so hard, thump-thump, when the hand holding mine was unmistakably female?

I must have been more tired than I realised. Combined with feeling unwell, closing my eyes brought sleepiness creeping in.

I pulled the joined hands close to my chest, as if hugging them. I’d just fall asleep like this.

　With this hand, surely I won’t have any frightening dreams.

“…Goodnight, Kanata.”

I hear the soft voice calling my name.

Before I can reply with “Goodnight,” I find myself sinking into the bed, already fallen asleep.