Episode Ninety-Six: I Love You Enough That Even That Would Be Fine
After a flight long enough to make your head spin, the plane finally touched down on the runway.
Once the arrival announcement finished, I pulled my carry-on from the overhead bin and stretched my stiff, cramped body, long and slow.
London Heathrow, for the first time in two years for me.
I’d already flown through here so many times that my feet carried me automatically along the route, familiar, without a single wrong turn.
Switching off airplane mode on my phone, a message had come in from my brother, Kaname.
Apparently he’d gotten his driver’s license while I was away, and was picking me up from the airport. Back when I’d returned to Japan for college, Kaname had still been in middle school — now he was twenty, in college himself.
Jet lag made me unbearably sleepy, but here, it was still just past noon.
Collecting my suitcase, fighting back a yawn, I headed for the arrivals lobby, and there, a full size bigger than I remembered, my little brother waved at me.
*
“You’ve gotten even taller since I last saw you… did you pass Dad’s height?”
Rolling his suitcase along ahead of me, his back had grown unrecognizably broad, and I called out to it.
Black bomber jacket, jeans — from behind, he looked every bit a grown man now, noticeably more solid than two years ago.
“Yeah, exactly. Dad was really annoyed about it. And I’m still growing, too~”
Turning back to grin at me, I could still catch a faint trace of the boy he used to be — but boys really do grow up fast.
The hand carrying my suitcase had gone knuckled, rough — remembering his small hand from before, something in my chest ached, faintly bittersweet.
Reaching the parking lot, I spotted a familiar car. A well-worn Land Cruiser. My father’s beloved car, the same one he’s driven for years.
We’re past the age of family outdoor trips now, but my father’s still stubbornly attached to this car, keeps driving it, treasuring it.
Kaname, driving this car — I never once imagined, back when he was small, that a day like this would come.
Compared to Yui-san’s car, this one sits noticeably higher, and climbing into the passenger seat with its clear view all around, a nostalgic scent reached me.
“Kaname, drive carefully, okay?”
Playing the big-sister role despite being a paper license holder myself, Kaname pouted, faintly displeased.
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry. You can sleep if you want, honestly. You’re actually tired, aren’t you, sis? Every time you come home you end up holed up in your room, sleeping the whole time.”
“You know, Kaname, since you never come back to Japan, you probably don’t get it, but jet lag is genuinely rough. Nine whole hours of time difference.”
Bantering lightly, but relieved by how confidently he drove, I let my body sink back against the seat.
Watching the nostalgic streets slide past the window, drowsiness crept in, gradual, and before I knew it, I’d fallen into a deep sleep.
＊＊＊
My first trip home in two years turned out exactly as Kaname had predicted.
Jet lag, as always, refused to clear easily, and I spent the first several days of my one-week trip home cozying up to my bed instead.
I message Yui-san every single day.
Being apart, the wish to see her keeps welling up, endless. On lonely nights, I hug my orca, as if to distract myself, and fall asleep thinking of her.
The new year drew close.
Nothing much to do, I’d skipped breakfast and was lounging on my bed when I heard a knock at the door and lifted my face from the pillow.
The door opened, modest, with a small creak, and my father peeked his face through the gap.
“Kanata, want to have lunch together? I got sandwiches, and scones too.”
My father said it, smiling, delighted. I nodded and got up from bed.
*
After the sandwiches, while I brewed tea for the two of us, my father pulled the scones from the paper bag and set out strawberry jam, then clotted cream.
My mother and Kaname were both out, apparently, so it was just my father and me at home.
Two teacups lined up on the dining table. Since it was after a meal, I’d chosen Earl Grey.
The scent of bergamot brought Christmas, just recently passed, rushing back to memory. The body wash used in the bath amenities — such a lovely smell, that.
Even in the middle of the most ordinary moments, Yui-san’s presence always seems woven in somewhere, and every time some small trigger brings her back to mind, it sets my chest burning.
*
“Never imagined you’d end up working at Yui-chan’s company, Kanata. I was genuinely shocked when I first heard.”
Spreading jam on his scone, my father smiled, happy.
Four years ago, when I’d parted from Yui-san and come back to London, my father had visibly, unmistakably drooped, dejected, for anyone to see.
He’d been the one who’d insisted, so confidently, “you two are bound to get along” — surely he never dreamed, not in his wildest imagination, that his own daughter and his best friend’s daughter simply wouldn’t click.
But as it turned out, exactly as my father had predicted, we hadn’t just gotten along — we’d fit together so perfectly it became something far more than friendship.
“It really was pure coincidence, ending up at Yui-san’s company. I’m working hard there now, as her secretary. It’s genuinely fun, every single day.”
“I’m relieved to hear you’re enjoying the work. But please, come home at least once a year. I worry, not seeing your face enough. Your mother even said, ‘maybe Kanata found someone nice in Japan and doesn’t want to come back’ — but that’s a separate matter entirely, even if you do have a partner.”
My father crossed his arms, looking genuinely unconvinced, and said it to me.
A thought crossed my mind, suddenly. Maybe now, if ever, is the chance to actually say it.
Because that’s exactly what I’d wanted to tell him — the whole reason I’d flown all this way home, over half a day, from Japan.
“Actually, about that… there’s something I want to tell you, Dad.”
I gripped my hands tight on my lap.
Suddenly, strangely, something felt off.
I’d told Yui-san, so confidently, “it’ll be fine” — and yet, for some reason, my hands were trembling, my throat tightening, painfully. What is this feeling?
—Am I… nervous, maybe?
I looked at those eyes, the same pale brown as mine. My father set his teacup down gently on its saucer and looked at me, steady.
“Something you want to tell me?”
Asked so gently, I nodded, small. My gripped palms had gone damp with sweat, and, without even tensing them, I could feel my legs faintly trembling too.
“Yeah… um… so…”
My voice, shrunk small, trembling — sensing my nerves, my father’s eyes crinkled, and he smiled, gentle.
In the time we’d been apart, I thought his eyes carried a few more lines than I remembered.
But that gentle gaze hasn’t changed at all, not since I was a child.
“It’s okay, take your time. Talk it through once you’re calm.”
A voice I knew so well, nostalgic.
Childhood memories came flooding back. Whenever I cried, inconsolable, my father would always sit me on his lap, pat my back, gentle, and talk to me in exactly this soft voice, until I settled.
I drew a deep breath, filling my lungs, and let it out, slow. Something in me eased, just a little.
It’s fine.
Once more, I looked straight at my father.
“Dad, I… I have someone I’m dating. Really kind, wonderful, someone who loves me from the bottom of their heart. I love them so much, and I want to spend my life together with them.”
I said it all in one breath. My father, who’d just been listening, nodded, small, once.
Almost like he’d already guessed what I was about to say, those eyes never wavered at all.
“I see. So, do you want to marry this person? Is that why you came home this time — to talk about that?”
Looking into his eyes, they seemed, somehow, a little sad, faintly wet.
I shook my head, side to side, in answer.
“No. We can’t marry… because she’s a woman.”
“Eh, a woman…?”
Startled by the sudden confession, my father froze, speechless.
Understandable, I think. I never once imagined myself falling for a woman, either, until I met Yui-san.
“…Yeah, I’m sorry.”
My hands, on my lap, trembled, faint. I couldn’t lift my face.
I believe, absolutely, my father will understand. He’s always listened to what I have to say, never once dismissed me outright.
But — actually saying it, contrary to what my heart truly believed, left me seized with a tension beyond anything I’d imagined.
This isn’t something logic can explain. Even I, myself, was confused by the mismatch in my own feelings.
After a long stretch of silence, my father, frozen like a statue, let out a breath. “Fuu.”
“I see. A woman, huh… well, that’s certainly a surprise.”
Tentative, I lifted my gaze. My father rubbed his beardless chin and let his leaning-forward body sink back against the chair, relaxed.
What would he say? Watching carefully, my father looked into my eyes and smiled.
“Kanata, there’s no need to apologize, no need to say sorry. Whoever you fell for must be a wonderful person.”
Hearing that, the tension I’d been holding, taut, eased. That warm gaze seemed to soak straight down into the very bottom of my heart.
“…Yeah. We can’t marry, can’t have children, but… I love her enough that even that would be fine. Just being able to be together makes me genuinely happy.”
“Finding someone you can love that deeply, from the heart — that’s rare. Something that might only come once in a lifetime, if you’re lucky. Treasure that feeling above everything else. It’s fine. I’m not against it. Thank you, for telling me.”
The strength drained from my shoulders, and I nearly slumped, boneless.
“Thank you, Dad. …If, going forward, dating someone of the same sex ever causes you any trouble…”
My father cut me off, calling my name — “Kanata.”
“As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters. I don’t care what anyone else says. Whatever happens, I’d never think of it as trouble.”
A steady, unwavering voice. Not a single shadow of doubt in it, genuinely, only a father’s love for his daughter — and I understood, then, that every worry I’d carried had been unfounded.
“Bring her home sometime. I’m entrusting my precious daughter to her, so I’d like to at least see her face.”
Saying that, my father smiled, bright, and, drawn along, I laughed too.
“…Yeah, thank you. Next time, I’ll definitely bring her along. She’s really beautiful, so I think you’ll be surprised, Dad.”
The moment he sees her face, even just once, I’m sure he’ll instantly realize exactly who my girlfriend actually is.
Without question, he’ll be shocked.
Because Yui-san looks, unmistakably, almost like a living image of her own mother.