Episode 37: Why Did I Catch Her Cold, Anyway?
A few days later, in the sales car.
“Kohh, koh-gohh!!”
I coughed violently. Inside my mask, the coughing wouldn’t stop.
“Achoo! Achoo! Koh-gohh!! Uugh…”
Honestly laughable, on some level. No, it’s not funny. It hurts.
The day after that whole caretaking episode, I came down with a spectacular fever of my own. My body’s currently serving as a full-blown nest for cold viruses. My voice has gone completely raspy, full husky mode.
Hanamori, in the passenger seat, fully recovered and cheerfully scrolling her phone, said:
“That’s definitely my cold, huh.”
“…koh, yeah, probably.”
“And it looks way worse than mine was? Sorry about that.”
“Koh-koh-koh… no, no, it’s fine.”
I have no choice but to admit it. When Hanamori had it, her coughs were cute. My version of this cold, on the other hand…
“Here.”
Hanamori held out a bag of throat lozenges toward me.
“…What’s this?”
“Throat lozenges.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“It’s, well, a thank-you. Sort of.”
Hanamori said it, looking away. Her cheeks were faintly red.
“Thanks… koh.”
I took out one lozenge, pulled my mask aside, and popped it in. Honey lemon flavor. A gentle sweetness spread, easing my throat.
“Tastes good.”
“…Good.”
Hanamori smiled, just slightly. Her expression looked, somehow, pleased.
I found myself remembering that day.
At Hanamori’s apartment, meaning only to walk her home, and somehow ending up caretaking her.
Her chest, catching my eye despite myself when I helped her change. Her sultry, sensual expression as she took each spoonful of jelly.
Just remembering it, heat gathered in my core.
My heartbeat sounded unnervingly loud.
…Ugh, stop remembering this stuff, alone with her in the sales car.
And then, right as I was leaving the room, I thought Hanamori had said something.
In a small voice.
“Suki.” Like.
That’s what I thought I heard.
But probably, no, definitely, it was just my imagination. Maybe she’d said it deliriously, feverish. Or maybe it was an auditory hallucination on my part.
Maybe I’d misheard a different word entirely, or maybe it had been directed at someone else.
(…But what if it was real?)
Covering with a cough, I glanced sideways at Hanamori and asked, quietly.
“Hey, so, that day…”
“That day?”
Hanamori looked up from her phone.
“When you had the cold, Hanamori-san.”
“Ah, yeah.”
Hanamori looked straight at me.
My heart gave a hard jolt.
(Is it okay to ask?)
(If that was real.)
(No, but, what if it wasn’t?)
I suddenly got scared.
Scared to hear the answer.
What if she said, “No way that happened. Gross.”
“…No, never mind.”
“Eh?”
“Just wondering if the jelly was good?”
“…? Yeah, it was good.”
Hanamori tilted her head, puzzled.
(Ugh, no good. I really am spineless.)
I coughed again. This time it was a real cough.
“Koh-goh-goh-goh!”
“You okay?”
“I—I’m fine… koh.”
“Asami-san.”
“Hm?”
“About that day.”
Hanamori said it, her expression turning a little serious.
“What did you want to ask?”
“Eh, no, um…”
“You started to say something just now, then stopped.”
“Ah, ah, that’s…”
I fumbled, flustered. Hanamori’s gaze was unnervingly sharp.
“Could it be.”
Hanamori leaned in slightly.
“That I said something weird?”
“W-weird, like what…”
“Was I saying anything, while I was out of it with fever?”
“Y—you didn’t say anything! Nothing at all! Nothing!”
I denied it desperately. My face was hot. Definitely red.
Hanamori stared at me intently.
A few seconds of silence.
Then, Hanamori gave a small laugh.
“…I see.”
“Y-yeah.”
“Well, good, then.”
Hanamori said that and turned back to her phone.
I let out a long breath.
(That was close…)
But, hm. What is this uneasy feeling in my chest?
Should I have asked?
Was it better not to?
I looked out the window and drank my tea.
“But it’s weird, though.”
I said, and Hanamori tilted her head slightly, looking my way.
“I had a mask on the whole time in your room, so I figured I wouldn’t catch it.”
The instant I said it.
Hanamori’s eyes went wide.
Blinking, twice. Three times. Four times.
And then — her face gradually, steadily turned red.
“…!”
Hanamori’s eyes darted away, and she turned her face aside.
“…Sometimes it still gets passed on, doesn’t it.”
Muttered, in a genuinely tiny voice.
“Eh?”
“I mean, well, um… distance, and things like that…!”
“Distance?”
“…We were close. Sometimes it spreads even with a mask on, …you know.”
Hanamori’s voice kept getting smaller and smaller.
I tilted my head.
(…Isn’t she being oddly flustered about this?)
But I couldn’t figure out why.
“Well, I guess that’s true.”
I nodded vaguely and turned to face forward again.
Hanamori, still gripping her phone, sat there, face red, looking down.
A short silence passed.
Coughing away, I found myself feeling, somehow, happy.
(…Ah, this is just too cute.)
(I really do like Hanamori. Genuinely.)
But I still don’t have the courage to say it directly.
Rolling the lozenge around in my mouth, I gave a small laugh.
Hanamori, too, looking out the window, was smiling just a little.
Her profile, faintly red.
For some reason, she looked happy.
Might just be my own hopes mixing in, might be nothing more than my imagination.
I started the car quietly, heading toward the next client.
The air flowing between us felt a little sweeter than before.
A little warmer, somehow.
Parked at the client’s lot, I checked my phone. A LIME notification.
From Asakura-san.
“Want to grab drinks next Wednesday?
There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
A short message, but it landed with unusual weight.
My heart gave one hard, heavy beat.
(…Eh, wait, is this…?)
Feeling a gaze on me, I glanced sideways, and Hanamori, in the passenger seat, was looking my way. The moment our eyes met, she looked away.
Pretending nothing had happened, I quietly slid my phone into my bag.
My palm was still hot.