Confirmation

I realised I was attracted to women when I was in my first year of high school.

She was a university student who came to our house as a tutor. From the moment I first saw her, I thought she was an incredibly lovely person.

She came to my house twice a week. With my brother having moved out and my father too busy with work to come home much, it was always just the two of us in the house.

　I didn’t know if she was homosexual like me.

Because I had fallen for her, I simply declared my feelings directly. When I realised our feelings were mutual, I felt as though I could fly to heaven.

We never studied at the desk. I’d whisper words of love to her as she tried to scold me, then push her down, and we spent most of our time together in bed.

I thought it didn’t matter if I didn’t study, since I was going to transfer internally anyway.

　After all, she was four years older than me and would graduate the year I started university.

That’s what I thought, but when she suggested I apply to the same university, I changed my plans without a second thought. That’s how much I loved her.

　Even now, I have memories that haunt my dreams. My eighteenth birthday. The day my father announced my engagement.

I simply couldn’t bring myself to tell the father who had raised me alone that I loved women. I still remember vividly the pain in the palm of my hand, clenched tightly in my lap.

If I told him, perhaps he might accept it. But what if he didn’t?

　In Japan today, same-sex marriage isn’t possible. Naturally, having children is out of the question. Could he truly accept it without opposition? I couldn’t even imagine it.

Wouldn’t it only hurt Father more? He must already be deeply regretting losing Mother, and falling out with Yuki-nii.

I understand marriage is unavoidable. My parents, my grandparents – they’ve all married that way for generations.

　Perhaps he sensed my gloomy expression. Father spoke to me gently, as if trying to reason with me.

“Yui, you might feel conflicted now. But rest assured. Though Mum and I were married by our parents’ arrangement, we truly loved each other. I was genuinely happy to be with her. So you, Yui, will absolutely find happiness too.”

Hearing that — I simply couldn’t say anything more.

When I told her we were getting engaged, she smiled with a look of complexity.

I didn’t want to lie. And partly, I hadn’t given it much thought, thinking marriage was still so far off.

For me at eighteen, the promise of graduating university, entering the workforce, and then several more years down the line felt like an unimaginably distant future.

It’ll be fine, there’s time. We can still be together. I genuinely believed that.

　Why couldn’t I see that for her, a fourth-year university student, it was a reality looming right before her eyes?

That naivety was probably my downfall.

I loved the taste of her tinted lipstick, her feminine, soft figure. I couldn’t resist the way her fingers dug into my back through my blouse when she clung to me.

　We promised to be together, but all we ever did was have sex.

As a high schooler, there was almost nothing I could do for her.

I wanted to do everything within my power for her. I wished desperately to grow up quickly.

Even though I felt that way, strangely, not a single tear fell, even on the night she left me.

That day. I remember when she told me goodbye, crying.

“Yui-chan and I aren’t a good match.”

What didn’t match? I just stood there silently, not even wiping away the tears falling from those eyes I loved so much.

Ah, I see. So I couldn’t make this person happy.

That makes sense. Nobody wants a love affair with an expiry date, where you can’t promise a future.

It felt like reality had been thrust upon me.

　I’ve always been sensible. I didn’t chase after her when she walked away so easily.

Spilt milk can’t be put back in the bowl. There’s nothing I can do about it now.

I learned the weight of the word ‘engagement’ the hard way.

Even though she told me she loved me so much, she left so easily. Perhaps her feelings weren’t that strong after all.

　I thought we could stay together a little longer. I never imagined parting would come so abruptly.

I barely studied, yet I passed my chosen university entrance exam without much trouble. I hadn’t felt particularly joyful, thinking I could just advance internally if I failed.

What meaning is there in entering university without her?

Feeling utterly hollow, I was taken to a jewellery shop by Shinji as a celebration of my passing the exam, where he presented me with an engagement ring.

　When the ring was slipped onto the ring finger of my left hand, the hand that loved her, I cursed my left-handedness for the first time.

I suppose I simply cannot stop loving women. Shinji isn’t a bad person either. But loving men is something I just cannot do.

I don’t know why. Because it’s been like this since I was born. I was born this way. It wasn’t my choice.

Even while gazing at the engagement ring given to me, I imagined a future where I would buy one for someone else.

　The urge to give far outweighs the desire to receive.

I’d rather buy the ring than have it bought for me, and the same goes for sex. I’d rather hold someone than be held.

I wasn’t entirely without guilt when I pushed him away as he leaned in for a kiss, or when I desperately told him I didn’t want anything like that until we were married.

But surely a little bit is permissible?

　For just those four years of university life, I could be my true self — the woman who loved women.

In exchange, I vowed never to have a lover again.

—That pale blue box from Shinji has remained unopened ever since.

I thought I might want to give one to someone someday. But since that would surely never happen, I bought myself a necklace in a red box instead. That was always my vow.

　When I became a university student, I stopped hiding that I was homosexual. I was surprised by how many girls approached me – far more than I’d imagined.

I didn’t mind the hassle; any cute girl would do. Each time it happened, the pain became just a memory.

It doesn’t hurt anymore.

After that love – which couldn’t really be called love – ended, I felt like I was at the very bottom of the deep, deep sea.

Four years of university would pass in the blink of an eye.

　The time I could touch a woman’s body was also running out.

Just as I was about to enter my third year, my father contacted me. He said there was a girl he wanted to have live with me in the house where I lived alone.

The daughter of a friend of my father’s. Apparently, she was set to enrol at the same university starting in spring. I replied that there was a spare room and it was fine by me.

When I went to pick her up at the airport and met Kanata for the first time, I thought, ‘You’ve got to be joking.’

I hadn’t been told such a lovely girl would be coming.

Living with her for four years will be quite tough, I thought.

Someday my bad habits will be discovered. Thinking about how she’d react then made me feel a little scared.

I’d sworn so firmly to myself, “I won’t fall seriously in love.” That vow crumbled away in an instant.

　Her smile is adorable. The way she pretends to be aloof yet craves affection, the sweet tone she uses when asking for something, her slightly stubborn side – it’s all so endearing, so utterly endearing I can’t bear it.

She genuinely tried to understand me. She tried to be there for my pain.

Kanata pulled me up from the deepest, darkest depths of the sea with astonishing ease.

Serious, sincere, the complete opposite of me.

　She tried so hard to peer into the depths of my shallow heart, built up with lies and evasions.

I fell in love with that Kanata.

Just one word from her – ‘Don’t go’ – and I couldn’t move a step from here.

I truly felt grateful this girl was straightforward. It was fine for it to be just a one-sided crush. I thought that if this love were to be reciprocated, this time I truly wouldn’t be able to recover.

　If I could just create happy memories, I could live on no matter what happened from here on.

I thought Kanata was the last gift God gave to pitiful me.

I wouldn’t be so greedy as to want her heart too. As long as I loved her, it didn’t matter if she didn’t love me back.

Truthfully, I knew. Kanata was different from the others.

　I shouldn’t have touched her. Even if our feelings had been mutual, the day would come when I’d hurt Kanata.

Even if we were happy now. The day would come when I’d make this girl I adored cry.

So, if I loved her, I shouldn’t have done this.

I knew it all, every single bit.

Once I’d touched her, it was over. After that, it was like tumbling off a cliff – my feelings just kept swelling, accompanied by pain.

　I couldn’t help but love her. Even knowing my own dishonesty would wound her deeply.

I wanted to give her everything I could offer now.

I’ve never once regretted loving a woman. But I’ve often wondered what future might have been possible had we been born into different circumstances.

Yet simply gazing at her sleeping face beside me fills me so completely.

When I wake tomorrow, if you’re beside me, I need nothing else.

I was supposed to be the sensible type.

The day Kanata left. When Ritsu asked if I was truly sure I didn’t want to stop her, dragged along to the airport, my legs gave way and I couldn’t move.

Sensible? That was a lie. That I didn’t need to be loved? A colossal lie.

　I was terrified of hurting her more, of being hurt more. Terrified beyond endurance.

Even though I loved her so much it hurt, chasing after her and trying to stop her now, I couldn’t do anything.

I couldn’t even make a promise.

Kanata isn’t homosexual. It’s my fault she became this way. Because I fell in love with her. I twisted her pure heart.

　It was utterly selfish. My whims deeply wounded her.

Because I wished for even a moment of happiness for her.

Kanata is different from me.

I mustn’t pursue her any further. It would only hurt her.

I know this, so why am I now, undeterred, watching the departing aeroplane?

My hand, clutching the returned necklace, hurts.

　I realise my vision is blurred because I’m crying.

I think to myself, how stupid. If I cry, I won’t even be able to watch her plane disappear.

Thud. Someone slaps my back hard.

“…What are you crying for? Over one little heartbreak? Serves you right for making so many women cry all this time.”

Despite always swearing like a trooper, it was Ritsu’s gentle voice. I propped up my body, threatening to collapse, with what little pride I had left.

　I know.

Spilt milk cannot be put back in the bowl. It’s too late now. There’s nothing I can do.

There were so many things I truly wanted to say.

Time and time again, I swallowed them down, swallowed them down, and poured every ounce of my feeling into those words: “I love you.”

Not a single bit of this feeling is a lie.

It was pathetic, and tears came. I hated myself for being so powerless, unable to do anything.

　If only God would grant me one more chance.

I would do anything. I swear I’d never hurt that girl again.

If we ever meet again someday, then — surely.