Episode Ninety-Five: Just Because You’re Lonely Doesn’t Mean You Get to Cheat
Christmas had passed, and now, on a Saturday morning, the whole city had started taking on that distinct year-end atmosphere.
Dragging my oversized, packed suitcase, I stepped out of my apartment and locked the door behind me.
That silver suitcase, well-loved since my college days, still bears scuff marks here and there, but it’s still going strong — lightweight, durable, and my favorite.
Its suspension-equipped casters are quietly engineered, so even leaving this early in the morning, I could walk the apartment’s shared hallway without making a sound.
Starting tomorrow, I’d be using my long holiday to go home to London, where my parents live. And, honestly, this would be my very first trip home since becoming a working adult.
The last time I went home, I remember, was March of my senior year of college, right before starting my job.
Even last year, my father had invited me more than once — “come home, come visit” — but between being desperately busy learning the ropes at work, and flights never exactly being cheap, I kept putting it off, and before I knew it, two whole years had passed without going back.
A few minutes earlier, a message had come from Yui-san: “I’m here.”
Taking the elevator down to the ground floor and passing through the shared entrance, outside was still dim, and I felt that distinctly sharp, biting chill of a winter morning.
Beside the apartment, a white sedan sat parked, hazard lights flashing. Yui-san’s car. Waving, I saw her notice me from inside and get out of the car.
Wearing a black coat, she raised a hand toward me and smiled.
“Morning, Kanata.”
“Good morning. Thank you for going out of your way to see me off today. The suitcase is heavy, so… this really helps.”
“No, I just wanted to see you off, don’t worry about it.”
Yui-san took my suitcase and loaded it into the trunk with practiced ease.
Rubbing my arms against the cold, even through my coat, I climbed into her beloved car, and Yui-san, as if she’d been waiting for exactly this moment, handed me a warm bottle of milk tea.
Switching off the hazard lights, the car pulled out. Our destination — the same place where Yui-san and I first met. The gateway to the sky, Haneda Airport.
*
“Oh, come to think of it, Ritsu-san had a souvenir request.”
“Oh yeah? What’d she want?”
“Perfume, apparently. She said she’s starting matchmaking activities next year, so she wants ‘something that gives off good-woman energy.’ But scent preference is such a personal thing — do you think it’s really okay for me to just pick something?”
“Matchmaking activities? She mentioned that before too, but Ritsu was actually serious about it? I always figured it was a joke.”
“Same here…”
Matchmaking activities, huh.
Thinking about it properly, Yui-san and Ritsu-san, two years older than me, will both turn twenty-seven next year. Wanting to seriously start looking for a lifelong partner around now isn’t strange at all.
Though, these days, marriage isn’t everything, and I suppose it depends on the person.
My close friend Yuuri, for instance, has no boyfriend at all right now, and yet she’s pouring herself entirely into work and her hobbies, living a genuinely fulfilling life.
It’s not that Yuuri’s never had a boyfriend — there’ve been decent people, here and there.
But Yuuri’s own priorities have always stayed fixed: music first, then work, then, occasionally, a boyfriend — so, looking back over her whole romantic history, both the relationships and the breakups have always been fairly light, easy affairs.
That kind of free, wandering-cat lifestyle of hers — I genuinely think it’s wonderful, in its own way.
No need for anyone else to weigh in. As long as the person herself is happy, that’s all that matters, and there’s room for all kinds of happiness.
“…What do you want for a souvenir, Yui-san?”
Watching the scenery slide past the car window, I asked, quiet.
“I don’t need anything. Just having you come home is more than enough for me. Ahh, just thinking about not seeing you for a while makes me genuinely lonely already.”
Letting that slip out with a sigh, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Since becoming her secretary, this would be the longest stretch we’d ever been apart.
I’m sure I’ll get terribly lonely too, so, honestly, I’d brought the little orca along on this trip home.
He’s my precious partner, the one who’s gotten me through every night without Yui-san, so just having him along makes an enormous difference in how secure I feel.
If Yui-san’s going to be this lonely too, just like me, maybe I should have left the seal — the one I’d taken back to my apartment — with her instead. That thought crossed my mind, briefly.
“…Just because you’re lonely doesn’t mean you get to cheat.”
Just to be safe, I said it, a small jab. Yui-san laughed off my little scolding, easy.
“With a girlfriend this cute, why would I ever cheat?”
Hearing that she meant it, genuinely, from the bottom of her heart, put me a little at ease.
It’s not that I seriously doubt her. But once real physical distance sets in, we can’t see each other whenever we want, and I do worry, sometimes, about whether some dormant bad habit of hers might stir back to life.
That’s exactly because I, more than anyone, understand just how popular Yui-san is.
Having a popular girlfriend really does mean there’s never a moment of true peace — something Yui-san might never fully understand, however long she lives.
The car sped along the asphalt, toward the airport. Sunrise, not much longer now.
In the eastern sky, through gaps in the grey clouds, a pale orange light had started filtering through.
＊＊＊
Parking in the lot connected directly to Terminal 3, I pulled my suitcase toward the check-in counter.
Once on the plane, all that’s left is sitting — and yet that stretch of just sitting always feels impossibly long.
My feet swell, my back aches, and by the time I arrive, I’m always utterly worn out just from the travel itself.
Going home was my own decision, but honestly, parting from Yui-san is genuinely, unbearably hard. A little late now, but I found myself thinking — I should have let her hold me more, before we left.
Once check-in was done and my suitcase checked, I finally felt light, unburdened.
Passing through security thirty minutes before the flight would leave plenty of time, so, until then, I still had this time with Yui-san.
“Hey, Yui-san. We’ve still got a little time, want to check out the observation deck, since we’re at it? Might get to see all kinds of planes.”
“Observation deck? Sounds nice, let’s go.”
“Might be a little cold, though…”
“If it’s cold, we can just come back down. Since we’re here, let’s go take a look.”
Saying that, Yui-san laughed and pulled my hand.
Heading up to the observation deck on the fifth floor, the top level of Terminal 3, even with the sun already up, the season meant a cold wind cutting through, and the wide-open space held only a scattering of people.
International flights, probably why — one massive passenger jet after another, from all kinds of airlines, taxied toward the runway, an impressive sight.
Silver wings caught the morning sun, glittering, dazzling.
“Which airline are you flying today, Kanata?”
“JAL. Flight forty-three, to Heathrow.”
“I see. Then… from here, maybe I’ll be able to see your plane off.”
I studied her profile, lit by the morning sun, faintly lonely. Just a few days apart, and yet being within easy reach versus being suddenly, truly far — the feeling is completely different.
Maybe she was remembering that day I left Japan. Thinking that, something pricked, sharp, at my chest, like a needle.
“…Yui-san, so, um.”
Taking a small breath, I looked at the plane visible past the fence, and, without looking away, gripped her hand, tight.
I sensed her turn to look at me. But I kept my eyes forward and spoke.
“I’m planning to tell my parents. That I’m dating a woman. Of course, I don’t plan on saying, yet, that the person is you, Yui-san. This trip home — that’s what it’s for.”
“Eh…”
I could tell she’d caught her breath. I glanced at her, gentle. Catching the morning sun, her deep black eyes shimmered, wavering, anxious, like the surface of water.
“Why? You don’t have to force yourself either, Kanata. I’ve kept this secret this whole time, so—”
Yui-san surely understands, deeply, the weight of what it means to tell your parents something like this. And the anxiety that comes with it too.
But I shook my head, side to side, and smiled. Blowing away her unease.
“I’m not forcing myself. It’s fine. Because I believe, absolutely, that they’ll understand.”
Once spring comes, I’ll turn twenty-five soon enough. Marriage is becoming more and more a matter of individual choice these days — but my parents’ generation married, and had children, far, far earlier than people do now.
Maybe that’s part of it, but lately my mother’s been asking, more and more often, “isn’t there someone nice?” People who think seriously about marriage, like Ritsu-san, will probably keep increasing too, going forward.
I could keep deflecting, sure, but there’s a limit. My parents won’t stay in England forever either. Eventually, they’ll come back to Japan. Probably, not in the too-distant future.
When that happens, I’ll need to explain that I’m living with Yui-san. One way or another, there’s no avoiding it forever.
It’s not that I have to force myself to say it now. There are all kinds of ways to handle it. But I don’t feel any need to hide it either.
I just want to tell my parents honestly.
That I found someone I genuinely want to spend my whole life with. That the person just happened to be a woman.
Even if we can’t marry right now, our hearts are connected, deeply, strongly.
And someday, I believe, a day will come when Japan’s laws change too. A future where people can simply live side by side, loving each other, regardless of gender. I’m certain of it.
“…Do you really think they’ll understand? Won’t they be against it?”
Her voice, faintly weak, unlike Yui-san’s usual self. Our joined hands squeezed mine back, tight, anxious.
“It’ll be fine. So, next time, come with me, and meet my family. I want you to see the city I grew up in too, Yui-san. London’s streets really are beautiful. It’s a bit far, and the trip might be exhausting, but…”
I looked into those eyes and smiled. And something in Yui-san’s tense expression seemed to soften, ease.
“…Yeah. Next time, I’ll definitely come with you. I promise.”
Shoulders close together, we watched the plane climb, straight, into the sky. Our breath turned white, dissolving into the clear, cold winter air.
But our joined hands, however long we stood there, stayed warm.