Episode Thirty-Seven: Don’t You Want to Do Something Else?
Curled up on the sofa, in that spot between her legs that’s mine and mine alone, movie playing, I toyed idly with Yui-san’s left hand, holding it, stroking it, restless.
Department store event halls, packed with chocolate this time of year. Valentine’s Day, not much further off now.
Something that should feel exciting, and yet lately, it’s become one of my biggest sources of worry — this whole winter event, drawing steadily closer.
Someone this endlessly, hopelessly popular is bound to come home with a mountain of chocolate.
And thinking about that leaves me, genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, feeling anything but amused.
Pale, long fingers. Short nails, done in color. I trace my fingers over them one by one, down over the smooth back of her hand, confirming each detail.
Yui-san, who’s openly declared she doesn’t do girlfriends — I’ve managed to win her “special.” But every time an event like this rolls around, it drives home, hard, exactly what that actually means.
Right now, maybe I really am her “special.” But how long that lasts, I have no way of knowing.
I know that becoming someone’s girlfriend doesn’t automatically mean the relationship lasts forever.
Breakups always come without warning, and in Japan right now, same-sex marriage isn’t legally recognized, so no matter how far this relationship goes, it stays parallel lines that never quite meet.
It’d be nice if I could just say I’m happy this way, as things stand. But there’s no guarantee at all that Yui-san’s feelings won’t wander somewhere else.
Ugh. I wish Valentine’s Day just didn’t exist.
Even if I gave her chocolate myself, it’d surely get buried under a mountain of chocolate from every other girl.
I don’t want her accepting chocolate from anyone but me.
If we were dating, I could say it. Turn them all down.
Then I’d be the only one giving you chocolate. Not just one more among a crowd.
I could never say something like that out loud, not in a million years — and yet I still, always, wish Yui-san would understand that selfishness of mine anyway.
I want to voice the kind of selfishness only girlfriends get to say. And I want her to laugh and forgive it. With that same gentle smile she always has.
My hand was squeezed back, gently. Kanata, her voice said softly by my ear, and I turned my whole body toward her.
Her palm, cupping my cheek. Eyes, looking straight at me. A hand slid to the back of my neck, drawing me in, and, understanding I was about to be kissed, I closed my eyes.
One gentle touch first, then, tilting, meeting again and again from different angles. Accepting her kisses like this had, somewhere along the way, become second nature.
The movie was probably at some important turning point, and yet, with each repeated, heated kiss, I could feel the arm around my waist tightening, and, unable to bear it any longer, I pushed at her shoulder to put some distance between us.
“…Yui-san, that was… long…”
Our lips parted easily enough, but the arm around my waist showed no sign of letting go. Deep, bottomless black eyes stared straight at me.
“Aren’t you watching the movie…?”
Why the sudden kiss? Just a moment ago, Yui-san had seemed completely absorbed in it.
“Mm, well, you looked bored. Figured maybe we should do something else instead.”
Hearing that, something in me went cold.
I wasn’t bored. I had been watching, in bits and pieces. I understood the story too, more or less.
I’d just been distracted, lost in thought, here and there.
Maybe, because I’d started playing with her hand, she’d assumed I wasn’t interested.
Yui-san really is frighteningly perceptive. She catches it instantly, whenever I’m not fully focused.
But leave it to her to take that and turn “something else” into a kiss — so exactly like her, in a way.
“It’s not that I’m bored…”
“No? Want to watch something different, then?”
Yui-san’s left hand reached for the remote. I caught it and gripped it tight, stopping her.
I don’t need to watch something different. Whatever we watch, I’d probably stay exactly the same, today.
Still holding her hand, I looked straight into her eyes, and her long lashes blinked, rapid, several times.
Puzzled, I pulled Yui-san’s hand and fixed it back against my waist myself.
I want, somehow, to keep her far away from Valentine’s Day. I almost wish I could lock her up in this house, isolate her from every girl out there.
For that, I need her to fall for me even harder. I want her so completely absorbed in me that she has no room left to look at anyone else.
“…I do want to do something else, after all.”
“Eh?”
I’d said it myself, and yet, apparently not expecting me to actually say something like that, Yui-san froze for a beat.
Her gaze searched, trying to work out what I meant. Maybe I needed to say it more directly.
I gripped the front of her white loungewear hoodie and pulled.
“…I’m saying, kiss me.”
Said plainly, clearly, and, finally understanding, Yui-san’s eyes widened, faintly startled.
Then, without pause, my body was flipped, and my back sank into the sofa.
Kissed like she meant to devour me, I pulled her in by the neck, clinging back just as hard.
I want her looking only at me. I want a real promise. Swear it to God, please — that you’ll never love anyone but me.
I can’t be as easygoing about this as the girls Yui-san plays around with.
Somewhere in the middle of that breath-stealing kiss, my whole body shivering, my mind going hazy, I felt something cool graze my stomach, and, startled, I broke the kiss.
“W-wait, Yui-san…!”
A mischievous hand had slipped under my loungewear. Just as it neared my chest, I scrambled to press it still.
“What is this hand…!”
“…No good?”
If I let go, even slightly, I felt certain it would push even further. I gripped it tight, through the fabric.
“No good.”
“The movie’s boring, isn’t it? Don’t you want to do something else?”
How does “the movie’s boring” turn into “let’s have sex” — what kind of logic is that.
Kissing’s fine. I’ve already let that much slide, so there’s nothing to be done about it now.
But sex is off-limits. That’s my last line. We’re not even dating — something like that just feels wrong.
“I said kiss me, but I never said I wanted it to go that far…”
At that, Yui-san’s brows drew together, faintly displeased.
“…Kissing like this, doesn’t it ever make you want to have sex, Kanata?”
Huh? A startled, undignified sound slipped out of me, and I froze. As if I could possibly answer a question like that.
Kissing Yui-san feels good, I think. Something warm kindles low in my stomach too, sometimes.
I love her, hopelessly, endlessly, so I suppose that’s just a natural bodily response, nothing to be helped — but saying that to Yui-san is far too embarrassing.
If I said yes, it makes me want to — I have a feeling she’d genuinely never stop, after that.
“What about you, Yui-san?”
Grasping at straws, I turned the question back on her. I had no idea what else to say.
“I want to. I want to touch you more.”
Answered so easily, straight back at me, that I couldn’t bring myself to look directly at her, looming over me. My whole body felt like it might catch fire.
“…What kind of feeling is that, exactly? Touching me — it’s not like it feels good for you, right?”
“A girl’s body feels good just from touching it. Even more so, if she’s someone you like.”
Someone you like — I see. Spoken like someone with real experience holding a “someone she liked.” Genuinely irritating. I know jealousy over someone from the past gets me nowhere, but still.
“Hmm…”
I stroked her smooth black hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear, and, along the way, traced my fingertip along the curve of her ear.
After brushing over her earring, I pulled her in close by the neck and brought my lips right to her ear.
“…Any girl would do, wouldn’t they. Yui-san, you idiot. Pervert. Skirt-chaser.”
Then I bit down, just slightly hard, on her earlobe. I thought I heard a small ow, but I let go of the arms wrapped around her and pushed her shoulder back regardless.
“No. I’m not doing that kind of thing with someone I’m not dating.”
Declared plainly, and Yui-san slumped, deflated. Reluctantly, she pulled back off me, though she clearly wasn’t fully convinced.
“…It’s not like just anyone would do, though.”
She said it, sighing, stroking the ear I’d just bitten.
“…So then, does that mean everyone you’ve slept with, up until now, was special to you?”
That’s not exactly fun to hear either. I pushed myself upright too, pouting, and Yui-san shook her head, side to side.
“No way. I’ve never once let myself sleep with anyone I didn’t actually like.”
“Really?”
“Why would I lie about that?”
That’s true, I suppose. But still.
It’s still irritating, isn’t it — someone who’d probably get swept right along by any cute girl’s invitation.
“…Yui-san, how many chocolates do you usually get for Valentine’s Day?”
Thrown by the sudden question, Yui-san’s eyes went round.
“Eh, Valentine’s?”
“How many chocolates did you get last year, Yui-san?”
I asked again, and her gaze wandered, thinking it over — clearly enough that I could easily imagine the number was too high to even guess at right away.
That number of chocolates is probably close to the number of women you’ve slept with, isn’t it.
“…I don’t think I got that many, honestly.”
Lying so transparently that I reached out and pinched her cheek, hard.
Ow, Yui-san protested, but I didn’t care.
“Liar. You got so many you can’t even give me a number.”
Not much longer until Valentine’s Day now.
I made a firm vow to myself — whatever chocolate Yui-san brings home, I’m eating every single piece of it myself.
Yui-san’s not even that into sweets to begin with, so my chocolate alone should be plenty for her.