Episode 44: Winter of My First Year. The Secret of That Day
I wonder when it was?
When I finally admitted I liked Asami-san.
When I finally admitted this feeling of mine toward Asami-san was “love.”
Bickering with her is fun.
Being protected by her makes me happy.
Watching her chat comfortably with Asakura-san makes my chest ache, and it makes me want to treat her coldly on purpose.
Before I knew it, I couldn’t stop myself from caring about Asami-san’s every little move.
Even though I was supposed to be rooting for her and Asakura-san to get together.
Even though Asami-san going out to eat with Asakura-san was, by rights, supposed to be a good thing.
Before I knew it, it had become unbearably painful.
Just watching the two of them talk comfortably made my chest throb with pain.
Just having Asami-san next to me in the sales car made my heart pound hard enough to hurt.
Every time I saw that smile of hers, something deep in my chest clenched tight.
I hate how loud my heart gets, whenever it comes to Asami-san.
Winter of my first year working.
Business trips and trade shows piling up back-to-back, work impossibly busy.
Right when I thought things had finally settled, all that exhaustion seemed to burst out at once, and I fell sick.
I woke up, took my temperature, a low-grade fever. My throat scratchy, a cough starting.
But I need to finish that document today…
It’s only on my work computer at the office. Ugh, nothing for it. I’ll just go.
Deciding that, I went in to work.
But by the time noon approached, I was already nearing my limit.
Kohn, kohn.
Coughing more than I had that morning.
Ugh, maybe I should go home… but I’m buried in inquiry responses and haven’t made any progress on the documents. But my body’s getting heavier too. What do I do…
That’s when it happened.
“Hanamori-san, your face is really red. Don’t you have a fever?”
It was Asami-san.
“…Just your imagination.”
“Don’t lie. You’re feeling sick, aren’t you.”
“I’m not, actually.”
Why does she always notice?
I didn’t want to show Asami-san any sign of weakness, and ended up putting on a brave face out of reflex.
I really hate this about myself. Why can’t I just be honest?
In the end, Tamura-san picked up on it and I ended up leaving early. Unusually, it looked like Tamura-san would be the one driving me home.
…I wonder what expression Asami-san’s making right now?
A little curious, I stole a quick glance her way.
She was looking down, her expression unreadable.
I never know what Asami-san’s thinking.
Just as I was about to get in the elevator with Tamura-san, someone grabbed my wrist.
I turned around — and there was Asami-san.
(Eh…)
“On second thought, I’ll take Hanamori-san home myself.”
Why? Why would she do something like that?
Chasing after me, even.
I’m not happy about it. Not at all.
Stop it, seriously, because it’s making me hope for things.
And yet the corners of my mouth curled up on their own, my heart pounding loud enough to be annoying.
I woke up with a start.
Getting help changing, being fed jelly—
I must have drifted off to sleep at some point as my fever climbed. Sleeping had eased some of the heaviness in my body, just a little.
Glancing sideways, Asami-san was slumped over at my bedside, breathing quietly in her sleep.
Asami-san, in my room.
Just that fact alone made a different kind of heat, unrelated to my cold, well up from somewhere deep inside me.
I could see her sleeping face.
The first time I’d ever seen it.
Only her eye area was visible, and yet her pale skin, long eyelashes, lowered eyelids all looked strangely sensual. Just listening to her steady breathing, in and out, made something deep in my chest throb.
Before I knew it, I’d leaned in close, staring intently.
What kind of face is she making under that mask right now?
Unable to hold back the urge, I gently pulled her mask down.
A perfectly straight nose bridge. Thin lips, faintly damp. Her breathing, in and out, echoing close by.
Beautiful, I thought, all over again.
And yet she’s sometimes so awkward, so odd, and that makes her precious.
—The next moment, my lips were touching Asami-san’s lips.
Soft. Warm.
A shiver ran through me the instant our lips touched.
Any thought of “I might give her my cold” had completely flown out the window.
More. I want to feel more of this. The moment I thought that, I pressed my lips a little harder. The sensation of Asami-san’s lips deepened, softly, and I found myself catching my breath.
I’m the worst.
Taking advantage of Asami-san being asleep to do something like this. The worst.
I know I’m the worst, and yet — I couldn’t stop.
“Mm…”
Asami-san’s brow twitched slightly.
Crap—!
I jerked back, putting distance between us, my heart pounding hard enough to feel like it might break. Pulse racing violently.
Asami-san shifted slightly, then settled back into her calm, even breathing.
…She hadn’t noticed.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I gently, with trembling fingers, put Asami-san’s mask back in place.
Asami-san likes Asakura-san.
No good. This kind of thing is absolutely, definitely not okay.
Getting all giddy and worked up on my own like this is idiotic.
My heartbeat wouldn’t stop pounding, loud and insistent.
Guilt and a sweet, lingering afterglow tangled together in a messy knot in my chest.
*
Sure enough, the very next day, Asami-san came down with a spectacular cold and missed work.
Definitely, unmistakably my fault.
Sorry, Asami-san.
But somehow, it felt like a secret shared between the two of us, and that made me, somehow, happy.