Episode Fifty-Three: I Just Thought — Maybe This Is Fate
Led by the hand, we arrived at a sushi restaurant with the unmistakable air of a high-end establishment, evidently one of Yui-san’s regular spots. Honestly, I’d hesitated before stepping inside, but the moment I settled onto the counter seat, the pleasant smell of vinegared rice set my stomach growling.
I had no idea where to even start, so I ordered the chef’s choice, and for the very first piece, glossy, translucent white fish, I dipped it lightly in soy sauce and took the plunge.
One bite, and my eyes widened, unbidden.
“Mm— this is delicious…!”
At the small sound of appreciation that escaped me, Yui-san, sitting beside me, smiled, happy.
“You still eat like it’s the best thing you’ve ever had, Kanata. Cute.”
Cute — hearing that, something deep in my chest clenched, tight. Flustered, I looked away, and Yui-san laughed and brought a piece of sushi to her own mouth too.
“You always eat this delicious food, Yui-san…”
No wonder, being a company president. She must earn plenty too, and watching her now, properly, I feel like she’s carrying even more of an adult’s poise than she did back then.
Impressed, I said as much, and Yui-san laughed and shook her head.
“I don’t always eat like this. Only on special days. When work eases up, or as a reward to myself, that kind of thing.”
A freshly formed piece of sushi arrived from across the counter. Squid, this time, maybe. One delicious piece after another kept coming, and it felt like this place was some kind of heaven.
“Then why’d you bring me here today? Did the negotiation with my company go well, or something?”
Taking another bite, I tried, just a little, to probe. Honestly, I have no idea at all what connection there could be between Yui-san’s company and mine.
I didn’t know if she’d actually tell me, but I tried asking anyway, and Yui-san laughed again and shook her head.
“No. That’s not it… it’s because I got to see you again, Kanata. Today’s a special day, for me.”
Looking straight into my eyes, Yui-san said it, easy as anything. Ah, come on. Hearing something like that, my heart, against my own will, wouldn’t stop racing.
I should have already known — this is exactly the kind of person who says things like this without a second thought. It seems like it’ll take a while yet before whatever resistance I lost over these four years comes back.
“Um… why were you at my company today? We’ve never had any dealings before, have we?”
Well, no helping it now. I decided to just go ahead and ask, plainly.
Earlier, the instant she saw my face, Yui-san had genuinely looked startled. So she couldn’t have known I worked at this company.
It felt like nothing short of some prank of God’s, this coincidental reunion.
“No dealings with your company, not right now. Why I was there — still a secret.”
Figured she wouldn’t tell me. It’s true, if there might be dealings between our companies down the road, I’d essentially be an employee of one of her business partners. So I understand — she can’t afford to let information slip carelessly.
“I won’t tell anyone… you could just tell me, you know. You’re so stingy, Yui-san.”
“Sorry, don’t sulk. Can’t say it right now, but you’ll understand eventually.”
I wonder if that’s really true. I sent her a doubting look, and Yui-san laughed and, deflecting, brought another piece of sushi to her mouth. Drawn along, I took another bite too. The rich, fatty otoro was so good it felt like my cheeks might fall right off.
A little late, I thought — talking while eating something this delicious isn’t really fair. It felt like every last thing could get glossed over, forgiven, buried under how good the food tasted.
Almost as an afterthought, I found myself looking at Yui-san’s left hand. Nails done, slightly grown out. On that long, pale ring finger — still no ring.
I’d felt relieved earlier, no ring on her hand, but knowing Yui-san, I couldn’t quite rule out the possibility she was simply choosing not to wear one, even so.
Unable to shake the curiosity, words that should have stayed locked inside my heart slipped out before I could stop them.
“…You’re still not married, then.”
“Hm? Ah, yeah.”
Maybe she’d noticed my eyes fixed on her ring finger, because Yui-san answered like it was nothing at all.
“When… are you going to?”
I didn’t want to ask, and yet I wanted to know. Contradictory, even to myself. Those black eyes fixed on mine, steady, as if trying to see straight through to what was inside my heart. Same as always, I can never tell what’s going on behind them.
“I’m not going to. I don’t intend to get married.”
“Eh…? Wh-what happened to the engagement? Did you break it off?”
“No, not yet. But once this fiscal year closes, I’m planning to tell my father. If I want to push my own opinion through, I can’t exactly show up empty-handed with nothing to back it up, right? This company had been struggling for a long time, so I figured it was my chance. I asked to be given management, promising results within three years. This is the third year now… I wanted to actually deliver, and prove that I’ll be fine without Shinji.”
Honestly, that caught me off guard. Because back in college, Yui-san had never seemed especially eager about running the company. Didn’t seem interested in it at all, really. Incredible. People really can change this much, in four years.
“…Yui-san, you really worked hard, didn’t you.”
I thought of the effort, the hardship, Yui-san must have carried these four years. While I was sniveling, clinging to memories, Yui-san had kept pushing forward, further and further, this whole time. Realizing I might be the only one left behind, stuck back in that old time — something in me ached, unbearably.
“Getting turned down by you, that’s what woke me up. If you give up, you’ll never get anything you actually want — I only realized that thanks to you, Kanata.”
Thanks to me, huh. What is it that Yui-san actually wants?
Breaking off the engagement, and then what? A new love, maybe, something like that… I wonder.
Four whole years have passed, since then. Am I already gone, from inside Yui-san’s heart?
“…I don’t remember ever turning you down, Yui-san.”
It’s true I said I’d leave. But I told you, properly, that I loved you. So, in my own heart, I never turned you down.
Grasping at whatever I could, I said it, and Yui-san laughed, out loud.
*
Once we left the restaurant, it had gone completely dark outside. I’d allowed myself, just a little, to hope — but she didn’t invite me anywhere else.
Fair enough, I suppose. Tomorrow’s a weekday too, and unlike me, Yui-san’s surely busy.
“Kanata, let me drive you home. My car’s parked nearby.”
“Eh, it’s fine, you don’t need to go that far. I can take the train.”
Feeling bad, I shook my head, side to side, and Yui-san bent down slightly to peer into my face. Those mischievous eyes stared straight into mine.
“…You don’t have to be this on guard. I’m not going to jump you, you know?”
“Th-that’s not what I meant! I just figured you’d be busy, Yui-san…”
“Don’t worry about that. C’mon, let’s go.”
She said it and took my hand. A warm palm, unchanged from back then. Unable to shake it off, I had no choice but to let myself be led along, silent.
*
The car parked in the lot was different from the one I remembered from Yui-san back then. A white luxury sedan. Not a Japanese make this time, it seemed.
“…You changed cars, Yui-san.”
“Hm? Ah, yeah. Still a hand-me-down from Yuki-nii, though. I don’t really care what I drive, as long as it runs.”
Saying that, opening the passenger door for me — that hadn’t changed either. But climbing into the unfamiliar car, the scent inside was different from what I remembered.
A beat later, Yui-san climbed into the driver’s seat. Huh, I thought. I hadn’t noticed it earlier, but now, alone together in this enclosed space, the scent was different from back then.
Right — Yui-san must have changed her perfume.
The car eased into motion, smooth.
These four years, I hadn’t changed a single thing. But Yui-san has. Something in me ached, suddenly, sharp, a small sting deep in my chest.
*
“This is fine here. That’s my apartment, right there…”
She flicked on the hazard lights and pulled over beside my building. No promise of a next time, and already, we’d arrived home.
Maybe, in Yui-san’s heart, I really have become nothing but a memory. Surprised by the coincidental reunion, maybe just a little nostalgic, and that’s the only reason she invited me to dinner — maybe there’s really nothing left, no feeling at all, beyond that.
Is this the last time I’ll get to see Yui-san? Fleeing, I reached to undo my seatbelt, and Yui-san turned to face me.
“Oh, right, Kanata. Do you have a business card? I’ll give you mine, so let me have one too.”
“Eh, um, a business card?”
I don’t usually carry them around, but I think I had exactly one tucked in my wallet.
Fumbling, I pulled a card from my bag, and Yui-san took a card case from her inner pocket and handed one to me in exchange.
Then she studied the card I’d handed her, closely.
“Web Production Division… Management Team…”
Reading my department title out loud, Yui-san smiled, softly pleased.
“Um, what’s wrong?”
“No, nothing. Just thought — maybe, getting to see you again like this, this really is fate.”
Hearing that, my heart lurched, sharp. Please don’t say something like “fate” so lightly.
Even if you don’t mean anything by it, that word carries real, heavy weight, for me.
“…You really haven’t changed, Yui-san. Charming everyone, same as always.”
I said it, sulking, and Yui-san laughed and reached a hand toward me. Frozen, startled, she gently traced the edge of my ear.
“I’ve been meaning to say this the whole time… you’re still wearing those earrings.”
Startled, I caught my breath. Wearing these earrings, the ones Yui-san gave me, had become so natural to me that I hadn’t even registered I still had them on today. Embarrassed, my cheeks went hot.
“I-Is that a problem? …I just really like them, that’s all, no deeper meaning…”
“No, it’s not a problem. I’m really happy.”
Gently, the hand at my ear pulled away, and then took my hand instead, squeezing tight.
Why? What is this? Why is she holding my hand?
Unable to read her intent, I looked at her, hesitant, and her eyes narrowed, gentle.
“Hey, Kanata. …Will you see me again?”
Those black eyes, endlessly deep, unchanged from back then, caught my heart and wouldn’t let go.
These four years, I’ve been so terribly lonely, so alone. Maybe it’s an excuse, but I think it’s because I felt, again, the warmth of a hand I’d once let go of.
Even knowing I shouldn’t, all I could do was nod, silent.