Episode Forty-One: Whenever We Might Have Met
Warming the instant rice porridge from the supermarket in a pot, I pressed the paring knife against the side of an apple.
Nervous with the unfamiliar knife, I managed, somehow, clumsily, to peel it anyway.
I found myself thinking, all over again — relying on “she’ll just do it for me” isn’t good enough. We live together, so I need to actually pull my own weight, be someone who can help out in return.
Why hadn’t something this basic ever occurred to me before now.
A whole year had already passed. I’d had endless chances to try.
*
I stared, blank, at the pot bubbling and foaming away.
Yui-san said she’d been mostly on her own since high school. There must have been times, like this, when she got sick too.
Did she always manage on her own, each time? Or did that girlfriend of hers take care of her — the one four years older, already a proper adult?
The timer beeped, sharp. I rescued the instant porridge from the boiling water and tipped it into a bowl.
Topped with a pickled plum, it at least came together into something passable.
Sorry, next time I’ll actually manage to cook something properly, I vowed to myself, firmly.
I carried it on a tray to Yui-san’s room. I hoped she could eat at least a little of it.
“Yui-san, I’m coming in.”
I called out and opened the door. Her room, lit only by the bedside lamp, was dim.
“Can I turn the light on?”
“Nn… yeah.”
Her voice sounded faintly strained. She pushed herself upright, then blinked at me, blank, puzzled.
“What’s that…?”
“Rice porridge. …Just eat as much as you can manage.”
I set the tray on the side table and sat on the edge of the bed, turning to face her.
“Thank you… I’m really happy.”
“It’s just instant, though.”
“That doesn’t matter. You made it for me, didn’t you?”
I hadn’t expected her to be this happy, and, hiding my embarrassment, I scooped up a spoonful of porridge. I’d already checked the temperature earlier, so it shouldn’t be too hot.
“Here, say ahh.”
Held out toward her mouth, Yui-san laughed, faintly embarrassed.
“I-I can feed myself, you know.”
“Why are you embarrassed? You’re the one who fed me, back when I had a cold.”
“Was I?”
“You were.”
Bashful, she still opened her mouth and ate anyway. Yui-san gets embarrassed too, apparently. A little cute.
“Good.”
“It’s store-bought, so the taste is a sure thing. Don’t push yourself, just eat what you can. There’s apple after, too.”
At that, Yui-san glanced toward the clumsily peeled apple sitting on the side table.
“You peeled that too? Did you get hurt? Are you okay?”
She’s rarely ever seen me holding a knife, so she looked at my left hand, worried.
I waved my left hand, side to side, showing her there wasn’t a mark on it.
“I’m fine. No injuries. Couldn’t get it perfectly clean, but…”
At that, Yui-san laughed.
“I really am happy. Thank you.”
I hoped she wasn’t pushing herself too hard, but Yui-san finished the whole bowl of porridge.
Watching her eat the apple I’d peeled, smiling, so clearly happy, I felt like I finally understood, just a little, that feeling Yui-san always gets, watching me eat.
“I got cut fruit and ice cream too, so tell me anytime if you want some. And here, take your temperature properly.”
I handed her the thermometer, and, reluctant, she took it.
“You’re really thoughtful, Kanata. Have you nursed a boyfriend through a cold before, by any chance?”
“No way. …Honestly, I called Ritsu-san and asked her what to do.”
Giving in, admitting the truth behind it, Yui-san laughed, relieved.
“Ritsu, huh. Fair, she probably was the right person to ask.”
“She told me to wrap a scallion around your neck. What do you want to do? Want to try it?”
“…No thanks, I’ll pass. I’d never be able to sleep with that smell.”
“True, it’d probably fill the whole room.”
We caught each other’s eyes and laughed. Ritsu-san really is a genuinely fun person. Caring, quick-witted, kind.
I’m glad Ritsu-san’s completely straight. If she were a rival, honestly, I don’t think I’d stand a chance at all.
“But I’m glad. I was starting to get a little jealous.”
“You’re one to talk. Who used to take care of you, before this? Your ex-girlfriend?”
Older, surely far more capable than me, probably someone who could peel an apple perfectly clean. Thinking that stirred up a stab of inferiority in me.
“No way. We never lived together. I was always on my own.”
“Hmm…”
“Eh, you don’t believe me?”
“I mean, you dated for three years.”
I’m no good, aren’t I. This isn’t okay. Yui-san’s not feeling well right now. I know I shouldn’t be saying jealous, accusing things like this.
The thermometer beeped, sharp. I glanced at it — past thirty-eight degrees. That must be rough.
“They say it’s better to let a fever run its course, but are you okay? Want to take something for it?”
Asked that, Yui-san shook her head, side to side.
“I’m fine, I can hold out a bit longer.”
I urged her to lie down and pulled the blanket over her. Then Yui-san looked at me, steady.
“…Kanata, you know, you keep worrying about my ex…”
My hand was taken. Her palm was noticeably hotter than usual.
“I said we dated for three years, but we only actually saw each other twice a week. But with you, this whole past year, we’ve been together every single day.”
“…That’s true.”
“So, honestly, we’ve already blown right past those three years, a long time ago.”
“The number of times you actually saw each other might be true, but… you loved her, didn’t you, Yui-san?”
If we’re counting shared, everyday time, maybe I actually come out ahead. But that’s a separate question entirely. What I want to know is about feelings.
Because Yui-san “dated” her. Properly. And she’s never once said she wants to “date” me.
Maybe you really did love her more than me.
Because I can’t even become your girlfriend. On that count alone, I’m not even standing on the same ground.
“I loved her so much. I wanted to be with her forever. Never once thought we’d break up.”
My heart ached like it might crack open. Even in past tense, I didn’t want to hear about someone else you’d loved.
Maybe it was the fever weakening her, but unlike usual, when she always deflects and refuses to answer, today she was unusually talkative.
A tangled, contradictory feeling — wanting to hear it, and not wanting to hear it — churned, swirling, in my chest.
“I thought there was no way I’d ever meet anyone I could love more than her. I was a kid, though.”
Her hot palm reached out, stroking my cheek. Those black eyes stared steadily at me, at my eyes threatening to spill over.
“But… it seems like love in your teens and love as an adult are completely different things. I don’t think about my ex anymore, not even for a second. I’m completely absorbed in you, Kanata.”
The palm stroking my cheek slid gently down my neck, coming to rest against the necklace at my collarbone.
“Yui-san…”
“…There’s something I have to tell you. I’m sorry. I couldn’t work up the resolve to say it, and you’re so kind, letting me get away without asking — I’ve been leaning on that, this whole time, over and over.”
“…Is it really that hard to say?”
“If I could avoid it, I would. Because I want you by my side forever.”
Why would she say it like that. Like she believes that if she actually told me, I’d leave.
Hearing her say that made even me afraid to ask any further.
“…It’s fine. Whenever you feel ready to tell me. I’ll wait, as long as it takes.”
I looked at her, weaker than I’d ever seen her. Fondness welled up in me, overflowing. I laid my own hand gently over the palm still pressed against the necklace at my chest.
Yui-san smiled, relieved. But that smile carried something aching underneath it, and it squeezed at my chest.
“I don’t want to graduate. Maybe I should just fail a year on purpose.”
“Fail a year? That’d be a waste of tuition.”
“I wish we’d met sooner. Our fathers are friends — why didn’t we ever meet before now?”
“True. Though, honestly, I might not have wanted to meet a Yui-san who already had a girlfriend.”
Because you’re devoted, aren’t you. If you’d had a girlfriend, I’m sure you never would have so much as glanced my way.
I don’t want to watch you be gentle to some other woman.
“I think… whenever we’d met, I would have fallen for you regardless. Thinking that, maybe this timing really was the right one. A moment when you didn’t have a boyfriend…”
Growing drowsy, her eyes drifted closed gently, and I took her hand, tucking it back under the blanket.
I never said it, but I feel exactly the same.
Whenever we’d met, I’m sure I would have fallen in love with you.
Even if this love never gets its happy ending, I don’t think I’ll ever regret falling in love with you, Yui-san.
Before long, the even rhythm of sleep reached me, and I gently let go of her hand.
And then, careful not to wake her, I brought my lips to hers.
“…Good night, Yui-san.”
After that light, brief kiss, I stepped out of the room, careful not to make a sound.
I might catch her cold. But even if I do, it’s fine. I know she’ll take good care of me, thoroughly, in return.
*
Looking back on it now, I think — starting from that night, no, probably long before that even, Yui-san had already been struggling, quietly suffering, torn apart inside.
No matter how much I turn it over, I never arrive at an answer. But I can still believe, at least, that being loved by her was never a lie.
The reason she could never bring herself to tell me — maybe it was because, even carrying the guilt of keeping something hidden, she still wanted, desperately, to stay by my side.
I don’t know anymore. Not now.
That was the first time I’d ever loved someone for real. Maybe I was still too young, back then, to hold the whole of her.
The memory lodged deep in my chest hasn’t faded at all, even now — it’s still bleeding, even now.
Once winter ends, a second spring will come.
The last season I ever spent with her.